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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
 
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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
 
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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
 
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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
 
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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
 
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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
 
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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.

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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
 
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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
 
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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.

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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
 
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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.
 
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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?

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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
 
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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
 
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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.

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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.

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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.

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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
 
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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
 
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Chapter 321
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

CHAPTER 321

No matter how much food you made, a Tyranitar would make it look like a small portion. It had taken me all morning, but I'd baked a hazardous berry-based cake (as it turned out, baking was in a whole other ballpark than cooking, and I was not great at it), bought out a crap ton of raw meat south of the city that Buddy had carried for me with Extrasensory, and a bunch of random Pokemon-friendly sweets— or at least the label said it was friendly for all Pokemon regardless of species.

Sweetheart had finished it all in a minute and a half. She'd eaten so much of it that I'd needed to slow her down so Honey could get some. Luckily, he ate nowhere as much as her. The rest of my Pokemon with me either couldn't or didn't need to eat, though not for lack of trying. Once Meltan saw Sweetheart and Honey eating, they got jealous and tried to have a piece of Cheri berry that they quickly spat back out ruined and full of rusted metal. I did learn that they could do little shocks through their tail, though it had been an accident; they'd released a tiny spark from the sheer amount of disgust they'd felt, barely enough to feel a jolt up my arm.

That had been thirty minutes ago. We were out of the city up north close to where Jasmine took me to talk and recount the stories about her colleagues, where the sea met steep, jagged knife-like cliffs and waves battered the island day in and day out. You could smell the salt in the air, hear the ocean constantly to the point that the occasional stretch of silence without a wave to crash into the bluffs was odder than not. Jellicent was flattened into a disc above the picnic blanket, shielding me from the sun and ejecting cold air down so the heat wouldn't affect me too much. Cassianus hovered next to us with two of their eyes on a certain battle and the rest focused on analyzing each fiber on the straw hat they currently levitated in front of their face. Oh, that hat was mine; it was the one Mira had bought me for my birthday that I'd worn today. They'd wanted to 'study its structural integrity' to see if it could be worn in fights, somehow, and I'd answered that I could probably find a steel cap for them if they wanted one so bad.

As for the rest of the team? Sweetie and Honey were playing tag in the distance, hence the 'fight'. The rock type was always the hunter due to Honey's agility making things unfair for her otherwise.

Another rumble beneath me. Tyranitar let out a guttural roar and stomped a foot against the ground. It rose, rose, rose until it looked like it would burst open and spew the world's innards out into the world; instead she sent the protrusion forward as if it was a wave of solid earth. Mimi rode atop her head and cheered, though they made sure to hide behind one of the spikes on her back whenever they got scared. Electivire was not idle— he never was. With a teasing grin, he hopped left and right before blurring into golden lightning, easily avoiding the wave which exploded behind him with heated mud and shards of pointed stones. He was speed incarnate, and he was growing faster by the second as he got going.

But! She'd laid a trap for him. The earthen wall had obstructed his vision, and she'd begun to wrap rock from the ground around her tail. With a swift movement, she turned and swept her tail toward Electivire. The rock around it shattered into a thousand pieces of shrapnel that would have torn through me like paper, and it exploded in Electivire's general direction. Fast or not, Sweetheart had sent the rocks in an arc too wide for him to dodge through movement alone. He slid on the grass until he came to a stop, leaving scorched plants behind him, and held up his hands with a hefty grunt.

The rocks never touched him. Through magnetism, he held them back as if he had a psychic barrier to pull on, and a ring of electricity burst through his fur, throwing them back at Sweetheart. The dark type snorted when they helplessly bounced against her and tapped the ground below her with another foot. With a rumble, pillars of rugged stone answered her command, already sharp and ready to cut and crush whatever was in her way—

"She's getting too into it," I complained. "Tell her off."

Claydol looked smoother now that they were out of the Pokemon Center, their crags and dents having disappeared under a new layer of clay. One of Cass' pink eyes swiveled my way. But my King, the Jester looks like he's having the time of his life. It would not be efficient to stop their battle now, according to my many calculations. The hat rotated under their careful gaze and their turret-like hands levitated to touch the straw. Such wonderful material… I wish to dissolve and study it. No, I wish to wear it on my head forever. And the ground type did so, placing the hat on their head and spinning it around with pleased eyes and a cheer from their soundboard.

Cute. I was—

My heart dropped when Honey laughed as he ducked under a slab of rock that might have sent him straight back to a Nurse Joy, and then he weaved around another, and another, and another. They all buried themselves behind him and made the earth shake, sending plumes of dirt high into the sky— some even went and fell into the ocean.

"You just don't want to be distracted from your fun," I said, rolling my eyes. Still, I was glad they'd come out of their shell and actually refused things now. "It's okay. We might have to fix this up before we leave, though. Trainer étiquette and all of that." Glancing at the state of their playground, Sweetheart kept upturning more and more earth while Honey's electricity burned some of the grassland when he got too carried away.

Case in point, the electric type placed a hand on one of the massive slabs buried in the earth and sliced through it like butter with another electrical barrage. He gathered the debris around his fist as if it was covered in glue and started punching the rocks Sweetheart kept sending. Each strike brought with it a brilliant, blinding explosion of energy that rendered the smaller rocks red with heat and the larger ones broken by his side. Sweetheart argued that counted as contact. Of course, never to be outdone by his baby sister, Honey cackled and said he'd give her the win if she was so desperate for one, targeting her competitiveness as he beckoned her with a hand encased in cracking electrified stone.

It obviously worked, and rules were adjusted.

"These kids have so much energy, it's like nothing happened at all," I said. We were really kicking nature around here, with how the place was starting to smell like cut and burned grass.

Buddy sighed, saying that just looking at them was making him tired.

"Kinda," I agreed. "Well, better Sweetie tire herself out now so she naps later in the day."

The game of tag continued in earnest, with Honey having to work for his buck. In a straight fight, I imagined Sweetheart would handily win, but this was a game to both. Or at least I thought so until Honey, close to losing through a surprise patch of liquified earth which bogged him down and spread far enough to stop him from quickly escaping, began gathering up energy around his fist as the stone around it crumbled.

Huh, that was interesting. She hadn't rendered the solid dirt to mud through TE manipulation, but used ground water instead with Surf for a slower and more discrete trap. She was really getting into this ambush predator thing we'd pushed for in the fight with Byron.



Argh, this was annoying. There was so much potential there, potential that I didn't have the energy to think about at the moment. My Pokemon might have recovered well from Coronet thanks to not having gone through the Distortion World, but it was me who was holding them back, now. Even after the meeting with Mallory and Rood, the spark was still missing. Something was still missing. Was it because I wasn't involved in the actual fight? If I was out there, giving out directions and actually battling, would I find the motivation that had made me go through countless sleepless nights to study each and every single tactic employed by my opponent?

While I was deep in thought, in order not to lose, Honey snapped a finger from which electricity coalesced, and with a harsh motion, he sent it flying. It was a weak blast, barely thicker than a Thundershock and dimmer than even that, but the goal wasn't to harm.

Sweetheart's left leg jerked back as soon as the electricity hit her, and she tripped before she could send another set of rocks barrelling toward Honey. With a loud crash, she tripped and fell back, carving a Tyranitar-shaped hole into the earth. The rock type screamed in anger in frustration and called for my name, which made a bunch of wild Pokemon which had gathered a few hundred feet away to watch the fight run off. Starly, Furret, Sunkern and the like. Honey was still panting from how he'd exerted himself near the end of that training session.

I jogged my way toward the two, carefully avoiding craters, ravines or even small hills created by the earth-waves Sweetheart had made. Once I reached her, she was still thrashing around and whining about how it was unfair how she'd lost. It was so cute my lips nearly involuntarily smiled, really. I crouched next to her and ran a hand over her hardened plate after motioning for Honey to come over.

"C'mon, I know you can get up on your own," I gently said. "Don't be a crybaby, now."

She clamored that he cheated, that he sucked, that he deserved to fall off the cliffs and a million other things. That was good news. When she was actually mad at someone, there was rarely any meaning to her screams. I kept soothing her and waited for Honey to get here, even if he was obviously taking longer than needed. He could have been here within a second if he wanted to, but he was dragging it out because he was nervous.

"Where did Mimi go?"

The metallic blob squealed from somewhere in Sweetheart's vents.

"Ugh, get out of there! That's— that's not meant for you!" I put my head near one of the vents on Sweetheart legs and called out for the steel type. "She's going to forcefully kick you out if you don't get out of there. Right?" I waited for an answer from Sweetie, but she was too busy whining to care. Mimi squeaked and I saw a glimpse of metal at the edge of the hole. I quickly snatched the Meltan with a victorious grin and watched them squirm in my hand.

"Don't go in there, alright?" I scolded.

Mimi echoed a sad mewl with something akin to tasty.

"Were you munching on the grains of sand in there?" I asked. There were minerals in them. Upon closer look, the blob was covered in a little sand. My answer was a metallic burp that smelled like iron and rust. "Well that explains everything. Using the fight as a distraction? You little devil! I thought you were scared!"

Sweetheart slowly got up and patted herself down, having finished her tantrum. Mud, grass and dirt slid off her armored plating and she asked for Mimi to get back on her head as her cheerleader, which the steel type hastily obliged after I warned them not to sneak into her vents again.

I'd missed this. The chaos, the personalities clashing. We'd all had a heartfelt reunion when I'd released them for the first time out of the Center, of course, but now it was like everything was back to how it usually was, and for once it did not feel like the world was leaving me behind, but I was being dragged along with it.

Not fully, however. As soon as she'd been done eating, Sweetheart had asked me when we'd start training again because she was eager to fight and keep growing. Despite Buddy calling it mildly insensitive, Honey trying to silence her by putting a hand over her mouth, Cass calculating the best way to respond to this was silence (they just didn't want to step on anyone's toes) and me dodging the question by saying we'd have that conversation when everyone was back from the Center, it left the question turning over in my mind like a seed had been planted.

An annoying one, not that I'd ever tell her that. The real answer was that I didn't know. I would fight Byron again because I had a fiduciary duty to Poketch to give the Conference my best shot, but I truly didn't know.

"Took your time there," I told Honey.

The electric type scratched the back of his head, not bothering to find an excuse. Instead, he shied away from Sweetheart's glare.

"So, were the rules of this game of tag actually established before you started, or were you just bs'ing it?"

The two agreed that they agreed on a framework of rules mostly based on Honey's fight with Volkner's Electivire. That was what I'd figured, but they added that they both had to hold back, relying on simple attacks because it would make the game unfair.

I crossed my arms, ignoring the vibrating phone in my pocket. "So what constitutes a simple attack?"

Honey shrugged, and Sweetheart called him stupid. I thought they'd start bickering, but the rock type added that him forcing her to move with his electricity obviously went against the spirit of the game, which was something I could agree with. Honey countered by arguing that using the water underground wasn't simple either, but she said he'd upped the ante with that electrified stone fist thing he'd done. He grunted noncommittally and whispered with twisting tails that if he hadn't done anything, he would have lost.

"Hon, it's a game. You could have let it reach its natural conclusion," I gently scolded with my hands on my hips. "Would you have liked it if she just created an earthquake under your feet and opened a rift there to trap you so you couldn't win? And let's be honest here, she would have won if this wasn't a for fun thing. You can't fly just yet, kiddo."

The electric type nervously shuffled toward her, head hung low in shame, and he offered her a genuine apology for breaking the terms of the game without warning. When he was done, he kicked some dirt and looked away. Sweetheart huffed and blew some darkened grains of sand in his face, which made him cough and shake his hand to clear the air. That reaction had her grin, but I had to intervene again to tell her not to do that when he'd just apologized. Really, it was all in good fun given that Honey gave her the win and asked for a rematch— a best of three.

"Yeah, and when you lose the best of three, you'll ask for a best of five," I teased.

Sweetheart stuck out her scaly tongue at him and snorted, and he gave her a thumbs down while he complained that she was getting too cocky; he would prove her wrong very soon. She grinned, all sharp and menacing, ready to rise up to the challenge. As a final jab, she brought up that there was a reason Mimi was on her shoulder and not his, which the steel type gasped at. They loved being the center of attention while acting all innocent. While they went back to take their place, I finally checked my phone. It had vibrated three times while I'd been mediating this 'conflict'. What greeted me were three notifications from a panicked Maylene.

Maylene - Im so sry

Maylene - I messed up with Cecilia

Maylene - I interrupted her conversation with Hydreigon and now shes super pissed at me im sry i rly fucked up

Maylene - It was an accident i thought she was gonna get hurt

I winced and bit my lip. With how Cece spoke with Zolst, it was easy to see how someone could get the wrong idea. After what she'd done against Jupiter, that dragon was going to be a lot. I stared at my phone for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. Already, I could see Cece had left the group chat, which was whatever. So long as she wasn't going to run away somewhere so she could be alone…

You - Is she back?

Maylene - I teleported her w Kadabra. She didnt want to talk to me and i knew trying to mend things right now would make things worse so idk if i should have intervened i didnt

You - Alright, thanks. Talk to you later.

You - Don't beat yourself up over it. It's not really your fault.

I called out to my Pokemon and told them playtime was over for now, something that both were annoyed by but understood when I explained the big picture. While Cass was fixing up the terrain as best they could and teaching Sweetheart in the process for a change, I gathered our supplies and made sure we wouldn't forget anything. This morning and afternoon had been fun, but my girlfriend needed me.

If only I'd had Princess, the trip back would have been so much faster.

I missed her. And I missed Sunshine and Angel, too.



I'd recalled Cass only when I'd made it inside the hotel. Cecilia's flats were in the entryway to our condo when I came back, hurriedly thrown off and not placed orderly to the side as usual. The place itself looked normal without an object out of place, which was good news. I figured maybe she would have trashed it again like she had at Lake Valor, but that appeared to have been a one off. Calling out for her, I made my way deeper into the apartment. Usually, Cece would have been sitting at the dinner table typing away at her laptop doing research, or maybe browsing the forums on her phone while watching the news.

"I'm in the bedroom," her voice called back as loud as it could be, which wasn't very much outside of specific circumstances.

It was hesitant, and most of all it sounded defeated. Almost as defeated as it had been shortly after she'd died, but not as bad. The way my legs immediately started running her way without my conscious doing was no longer a surprise; Cece was just that important to me. I nearly tripped on the little ledge up the corridor leading to our bedroom, scrambling my way forward until I found myself facing her. She didn't just sound defeated, she looked like it, too. Not on her face, for it looked like she would nearly always vacillate between pissed or pissed outside of the little rays of happiness that occasionally shone through, but in the way she carried herself. Her head hung low, eyes avoiding contact and staring blankly at the ground. Her shoulders were tightly wound inward, and while there were no traces of it left on her face or in her eyes, there were dried tears on her cheeks. Hydreigon's Pokeball sat alone on the bedside table, dents and all.

Talonflame was with her, a wing carefully laid on her foreleg. I gave the flying type an appreciative look— Arceus knew that her presence had been needed.

"I was gonna call you," Cece quietly said, her hands sinking against the mattress. "But then I remembered you must have been having a good time out, and I didn't want to get in the way of that, so—"

She was in my arms before she could finish that sentence. "Stupid," I berated her, carefully running a hand through her hair behind her head. After a few seconds, our foreheads touched and her trembling breath brushed against my face. "I will always be here for you, okay? Always, no matter what happens. Understand?"

Her lips thinned; for a moment, I thought I'd have to fight her on this, but she nodded. "Yes. The truth is…" she trailed off and quietly gasped when my thumb caressed her cheek, just enjoying the moment. There was a certain harshness when it passed over one of her stitched up scars. "That— feels nice. Your hands are so soft."

"Mhm. Perks of having new skin, I guess."

"The truth is," Cece repeated herself, "I probably would have ended up calling you anyway. Chase is busy, Denzel is asleep, Mira and Maeve are… gone, but they've got issues of their own and we aren't close enough. Pauline and Emi… they wouldn't work. Louis, maybe." After a short sigh, her eyes widened a smidge. "Oh. I assume you know what happened, then."

"The big picture," I confirmed. "Maylene messaged me— she feels horrible for what happened, okay?" Maylene was probably still kicking herself despite my message; I'd have to call her about it later and try to mend things between these two. It'd be a shame to have gone through such a story and let something like this get in-between our friendships. Coronet and beyond had linked us for life. "It's fully within your right to be angry, but you have to understand. Maylene's a good kid, sometimes to her detriment, even. The world wounds her again and again, yet she tries her best to do right by it, still. So of course if she thinks you might be in danger she'll do something about it." Cecilia's mouth twitched, and her jaw clenched. "It's okay to depend on her, too, like she's been depending on us. She's seen what you've seen."

It was difficult to tell when her eyes moved, but an attentive person could do it, still. When Cecilia glanced away, I kissed her forehead, then gently dragged her to lay down on the bed with me, our faces still close. She was clearly still vexed at what had happened, and that was okay. Talonflame hopped on as well, quiet and well-mannered. You'd almost think she'd been raised to be a 'proper' lady. Meltan had already crawled away from my wrist, intrigued by Talonflame's natural bodily warmth. Their little tail wagged as they approached the flying type, who seemed unsettled at their constantly changing body. Cecilia looked up at me, and a wordless agreement passed between us; she wiggled closer and put her hands around me, taking a deep breath against my chest.

"Want to eat something? I can cook you some food," I whispered.

There was a beat of silence before she answered. "I'm okay. I'd like to stay like this for a while."

Cute enough to make me melt. "Okay; if you're sure. Tell me what went wrong today, then."

We stayed like this while she told me not only about the incident with Zolst, but everything that went on today from start to finish so I could get all the facts. Admittedly, Cece describing Maylene as flustered at her for nearly pinning her against the wall while she demanded to see her aura was hilarious, though I got it and kind of wished that had been me. Still, I'd already known she was gay or bi with how she fell in love with Virtuous me— here she just didn't know it yet, it seemed. Hopefully this wasn't anything like an unrequited crush and she'd just gotten caught off-guard, because that'd just be so messy; Cece having to break her heart would suck and I'd miss our friendship too much. It'd be smothered, extinguished before it could even properly bloom.

If it was a crush, maybe it'd be better to just say nothing, wait and let it fade when we went to Unova so we wouldn't have to mess things up. The distance would be of great help.

But then, things got serious. It was easy to see where the misunderstanding had taken place— Cecilia had asked for privacy, but not gone into much detail as to why, which was entirely within her rights; Maylene, who was still admittedly pretty normal, freaked out when her Lucario told her about how Zolst was feeling such rage toward his trainer, and she acted accordingly to prevent a potential accident.

No one was at fault.

"What if you…" it was difficult to find the right words. "And you think he won't let you speak to him one-on-one again?"

Cecilia's fingers clenched my shirt behind my back, her nails digging slightly through the fabric and sending tingles down my spine. "I don't know, I can't do anything right," she sighed. Talonflame protested by scolding her for giving up too quickly. "I know, I know. I can't let defeat cloud my reasoning, I'll have to try again. It's not like it'd be good to keep him in his Pokeball for too long anyhow, and he needs to eat, and—" Cecilia cut herself off, squeezing me tighter. "He'll think I had a protector there and it's set me back weeks. Possibly more than that." Her voice was muffled in my chest. She sniffled. "I considered just ripping off the band-aid and trying again immediately, but it's best to give him some time to cool off or it might actually be dangerous, especially without Slowking here."

My hand streaked through her hair. "You're right. Better safe than sorry, we don't want you in the hospital again." A flicker of doubt flashed on her face, and I could immediately tell what she was thinking. That a trip through the hospital would be worth a repaired relationship with her starter. "Baby, look at me." I gently grabbed her face with my hands and looked into her pale eyes. "What you need is to talk to him, not let him hit you until he's satisfied— and he wouldn't like that anyway, Zolst loves you! No matter how long it takes, I'm sure you'll have him back to his silly antics in no time."

"I hope so." Her heart was in it, this time.

"Hope is good," I said. "Hope is what keeps you alive when the chips fall and the knives are out."

"Ugh. I love you."

I snorted, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "What was that groan?"

"Nothing," she said with a hint of a smile. "Anyway, how was your day?"

Beaming, I launched into everything I'd done today, and she was happy to listen. Eventually, when all was said and done and we continued talking about anything that came to mind, we must have fallen asleep because when I woke up, the sky was filled with the orange hues of sunset. The fact that I'd actually had an interrupted streak of sleep took a few moments to sink in, even if that had only been for… three hours according to my phone. Talonflame had fallen off the bed with her back to the floor and her talons up in the air—

Arceus, where was Mimi? They must have sneaked off somewhere while we'd been asleep. Rubbing my eyes, I turned toward my girlfriend. Cecilia's body was twitching and she was mumbling in her sleep, as if distressed by something.

She must have been in a nightmare.

I poked her in the cheek, and when that didn't work I lightly shook her shoulder until she woke up with a deep, raspy gasp of air that woke up Talonflame. The fire type's sudden scramble to her feet bumped her wing into the bedside table, knocking the lamp over and shattering the bulb. There was a familiar squeal, and Meltan crawled from under the bed, intrigued by the shards of glass that I'd have to clean up later.

"It's me," I softly said, clasping at her shoulder. "It's just me, baby. We're okay."

Her face slowly scrunched up, as if she remembered what she'd just seen. "Thank you for waking me. Were you—"

"I was fine, no worries. Hungry?" Her head tilted to the side, then nodded. "I still got some groceries leftover from earlier. 'Guess I'll make some food and let my team out." I slid away from the bed. "Falling asleep wasn't the plan."

Sweetheart was too big and heavy to be out in the condo, but I released the rest of my team and got started on something simple. There was still enough rice to last us days, and the raw meat I'd bought included chicken. While Buddy took over in Mimi-watching duties and was having what looked like a good time talking to Talonflame about her favorite sights when she went off flying who-knows-where, Honey and Cass helped me around the kitchen. The psychic liked giving me utensils or spices whenever I asked for them like a sous-chef, and they were very curious about them, too. Supposedly all Lakhutia had was salt from their cavern; they were an isolationist bunch that didn't let many traders in.

When they asked what cumin was made of exactly, though, I came up empty other than the fact that it was a plant of some kind.

The kitchen was pretty wide open to the entire condo, so I could see Cecilia sitting on the couch in the living room, her laptop on her knees. The fact that she was working again was good; I'd need to keep an eye on her in case she went into a self-depressive spiral again. Having this Role was enjoyable and it was important to not get hyper focused on my conversation with Rood and Mallory. It'd be a while until I'd get another one of those, and while I'd learned a whole lot about systematic failures and Team Plasma's endeavors, I hadn't actually gotten anyone's numbers or names for the original goal of the conversation: connections.

Speaking of, I needed to go to a Unovan embassy to get started on my Trainer Visa soon. Better early to get it out of the way. I'd go get the process started when Princess was out of the Center. She was the next one supposed to be out.

"Grace," Cece called from the living room. "Sarah Newman is in Sinnoh again."

Unconsciously, I stopped lathering the chicken in spices. "Oh. Oh, shit. She must have heard. Has she… spoken out to anyone yet?"

"She was never one for publicity, apparently," she said. "She's in Jubilife and has demanded to speak at the ceremony to celebrate Craig's life."

It was rather morbid, that this ceremony was now stated to be the day after Justin's funeral; we'd have to go through this sorrowful process back to back. Craig's funeral would be later, and as we weren't close, we wouldn't be allowed to come in.

Time was ticking… hopefully Mira would find Lauren before next week; I wanted to believe she wouldn't miss her brother's state-mandated ceremony and funeral, but—

I shook my head, chasing those thoughts away. If anyone was capable of finding her, it was Mira, and maybe Newman would try as well. They must have known each other.

When dinner was finished, Cece and I ate face to face in a comfortable silence often broken by bursts of chatter. Honey was eating by the TV to watch one of his cartoons with Mimi on his shoulder, Cass was still on their research binge about spices using my laptop, and Buddy was hovering behind me, nearly finished with his newest book that he sometimes told me about if he came across an interesting history tidbit. His latest obsession was a series of wars between the petty kings and queens of Kalos shortly after the collapse of the Chivalric Age: a stretch of a century and a half from the 1100s onward where conflicts were decided with Pokemon battles between chosen fighters instead of the bloodshed of war. Honestly, it was a wonder it had lasted that long, but honor was everything, back then. Eventually, the region would unify under one kingdom, creating a dynasty which lasted until the Great War.

Charles III Montreuil was the last of his line. His children and family were killed along with him. History was crazy like that, and I was learning a lot just through osmosis from Buddy's rants.

My feet poked at my girlfriend's legs under the table, and it felt good to see her body-language soften at each instance of contact. Eventually, when we were close to finished, Cecilia took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

She let go of her fork, which clinked on the side of the plate. "I was thinking… if I'm going to take my time to fix what I've done to my Pokemon," On the floor at the side of the table, Talonflame's eyes flickered my way cautiously, "I might need to leave. For a while."

It took a—

It took a bit to make sense of the words in my head. My body suddenly felt like it had been trapped or squeezed in a tight space. Somehow, it was like when you woke up after falling in a dream.

"Leaving. Like…" I probed for more information, trying to keep my voice still.

"I don't know where exactly," she continued. "Probably on one of the wilder routes like 220 or 211."

I tried to scrounge up memories of those routes from the maps Denzel used to buy, remembering I'd never actually been there. These were rarely sought after because they lay south of Twinleaf, one of them being composed mainly of ocean and islands in the strait between Johto and Sinnoh down south. There would be no reception, meaning I wouldn't be able to contact her for however long she stayed either by text or call.

I wouldn't be able to see her.

To touch her.

To hear her voice.

To talk to her.

She must have seen how morbid I looked, because she added, "only when all of my Pokemon are all out of the Pokemon Center, and I wouldn't miss Justin's funeral, either. We still have time." She leaned forward and reached toward me.

I flinched away. "Did— did I do something wrong?" My voice came as a stammer with a nervous, incredulous laugh, and my hands clenched below the table.

Pain flickered across her face. "That's not—"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." A sigh left my lips, and I realized my hands were beginning to sweat. "I shouldn't have said that."

"But you said it."

"I did."

"And now doubt is creeping in." Cecilia touched her heart and closed her eyes. "Now I don't want to leave. My heart. It aches. This wasn't… the goal, but maybe this will do us some good. To help return to normal again, like the last time we had to deal with this—"

"The last time was never this pronounced." I cut her off. Why did I cut her off I didn't want to cut her off I should shut up I should shut up. "I don't even know what normal is! I've never had that! We've never had that." My eyes felt wet. "At least let me come with you. I won't get in your way, just… please."

At this point, the commotion had reached the ears of even our Pokemon in the living room, who were all watching us with bated breaths.

"Maybe not normal, but just unable to live without seeing you for twenty-four hours is—" her defiance evaporated from one second to the next. I could see it written in the way her body lay about. "Fine. Maybe you can come with me. Maybe it's fine."

Talonflame chirped worryingly at her side before shooting me an unappreciative stare.

I realized what I'd done immediately. I was taking away her freedom to act; her need to be a trainer; her independence. The three things which she had internalized and desired since she had been a young child yearning to escape from the dark clutches of her father.

"I gotta— wait, I have to just go in the bathroom and clear my head. Don't leave, okay. Please," I spoke at a rapid pace as I shot up from the table.

When I passed by Honey, I asked him to shout for me if she left. I locked myself into the bathroom and ran the tap to wash the tears off my face. When I cut it off, it continued to drip into the sink, each drop a hollow echo that had reverberated in the silence of the room.

"Get a hold of yourself," I muttered, staring at my tired face in the mirror. "You're better. Be better. Don't twist yourself into the Role of a villain."

Cecilia was right. This wasn't even about being normal, this was about being healthy. No person with a healthy mindset would have reacted the way I have. She wasn't even leaving yet, but what about the future? What about Unova, where she would most likely have to spend days or weeks away from me on jobs with Professor Juniper or talking to whatever politicians or Gym Leaders she needed to? What about my own goals? We wouldn't be joined at the hip twenty-four seven like we could be these days.

"Legendaries, I'm pathetic."

I loved her. I loved her so much that I hurt her, because it felt like she'd been abandoning me.

The door swung open, and I barged through back into the living room, then into the kitchen. She was still here, staring at me with a blank look on her face. Electivire gave me a discreet thumbs up, meaning that she hadn't even tried to leave.

"I'm sorry; I was completely wrong and I hurt you." It was difficult to look into her eyes for too long without feeling like shame was dragging my head down like an anchor around my neck. "You should leave whenever your team is ready and rekindle your relationship. I'll be…" I swallowed. "I'll be fine. Don't hold yourself back because of me."

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"I—" her breath caught in her throat. "If you're sure."

"I am." I wanted to tell her that I was happy she wasn't leaving yet, that we didn't need to speak like she was going to slip away any day now, but I didn't. It might influence her decision, and I'd now learned that my words had more power over her than they ever had.

I just didn't know how she could be so strong, still.

"So, um." I awkwardly shuffled in place. "Can we— go back to normal, or do you want me to leave for the night? I can stay at a Center or something; I'll basically have the entire place for myself." Deep inside, I was praying she'd say no.

"Stay. Of course, stay," she said, and I couldn't help but breathe in an immense sigh of relief.

I hadn't fucked up to catastrophic levels.



It was the next day now; the thirteenth of May. While Cecilia and the others had gone to visit Chase in the hospital, I'd left his room early to go see someone else. Denzel looked peacefully asleep, even with a mask keeping him asleep on his face. His chest rose up and down slowly, and his body was nearly sinking into the mattress below him. According to the nurses it was made of specialized material— an air-fluidized bed, one of them had called it— to minimize the pressure on his back as much as possible. He'd already had all of the dead skin removed and gotten a skin graft two days ago across his entire back, but it was still healing. His arm was hooked into an IV from which fluids continuously pumped into his body.

If he'd been awake right now, he'd be in agony, but he'd be up within the next few days, or so the doctor said. I smiled as I held onto his hand and brought it up to my cheek. It was warm. He'd done so much for us; without him the world might have ended. He was just as much of a hero as the rest of us, and he would get none of the credit he deserved.

The reason I hadn't come here as often as I should have was…

Well, his parents were allowed on the island by the League, even through the lockdown, and they visited often. The last thing I wanted was to come face to face with his mother. Emilia had warned me of her ire, and to be honest, I understood. All of the warnings she'd heeded Denzel, everything she'd said, her holding him back from journeying for a year— all of that was now vindicated within her mind. She might have thought that maybe if I hadn't come to Twinleaf at the start of the Circuit, she could have convinced him to stay.

God, I needed to see my dad again, or at least talk to him beyond a good morning and good night every day. My mom, too.

Hm. I wondered if they'd find Froslass by the end of the week in Coronet. Recovery operations were still going on there.

After gently lowering my best friend's hand back on the bed, I grabbed my phone and dialed Maylene's number.

"Hey. Sorry I took so long to call." The truth was, I'd gotten distracted yesterday trying to salvage my relationship from a pivot toward disaster. "Yesterday got busy. Oh, I hope I'm not bothering you, I know you're working hard."

"No, it's okay," she said, clearly nervous. "I'm sorry, I must have ruined your night with this stuff."

"No, actually. Um, it was me who fucked up, completely unrelated. I think I salvaged it, though. Barely." It had been awkward after. Very awkward, but at least she'd stayed and Talonflame had forgiven me already. Awkward was better than cold.

I must have been quiet longer than I thought, because Maylene spoke up again. "So, what's the— the verdict?"

"She's spiteful," I explained. "But give her a few days and she'll be back to normal. Plus, she's still willing to help with your dad and stuff, and you know, your aura was apparently better than your Lucario's, so we'll see what she thinks about Chase's. If it's the same she'll probably want to see you again. It's sort of therapeutic for her. Reminds her of what she's lost, but in a good way."

Maylene exhaled on the other end of the line as if a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank the Legendaries. I thought I'd ruined things. It's good that she still wants my help; I can't be the one always taking from you both. I need to give back." I heard a bump of some sort on the end of the line, and then a soft scrape, as if she'd laid her head on the table. "Should I message her another apology or should I give her some space?"

"I'd say give her some space for now and message in a few days when she thinks better of you— I'll keep you up to date on the vibes." A moment of silence passed, and I leaned against the backrest of my chair with an analytical frown. "You really care about her, huh?"

Carefully, I listened to see if there would be any sudden movements. Instead, all I caught was the pausing of a breath; one held half a second longer than usual.

"Yeah, she's nice in her own way. Like, an 'it can't be helped, I'll help you' kind of way, but obviously I didn't know her before she died," she slowly spoke, attentively choosing each word. "I didn't ask before, but why're you so quiet?"

A hasty change of topic.

Man, I could read her like a book. This was going to suck.

"Oh, I'm just in Denzel's room right now." I smiled at his sleeping face. "I guess I unconsciously get quiet even if he can't wake up. Plus, my friends have been saying I speak too loudly sometimes 'cause I'm still not used to not hearing properly, so I'm tempering it. Anyway! How's work?"

"It's going pretty well! I got a really needed boost in my confidence and it looks like my Gym Trainers are coming to the idea that I'm in charge, so I won't have to do anything radical like fire people," Maylene said. "No news from my dad yet, but he's lost a lot of his leverage. Anyway, uh, if you want I—I should have the time to ha—hang out pretty soon this week-end for a few hours." Now she was the one who'd gotten all quiet. Maybe what I'd said had gotten to her and she was self-conscious.

"Sure, why not." If I was supposed to survive without Cece, I might as well give it a try soon and use the opportunity to go check on Bella and Night and spend the entire day away. "I was actually in need of someone to get me into shape again, so maybe we can make it a semi-regular thing." I was actually planning on going on a run with Honey after I was done here, just to get started on my own like old times. I silently chuckled and stared at my unconscious friend. He was the one who'd gotten me into it all those months ago north of Jubilife. "Though I doubt you'd have the time—"

"I'll make time!" she screamed. "I—I mean it should be fine, haha…"

"Woah, so passionate," I said with a teasing laugh. "Chase is like that! He'd get excited at any opportunity to get me to work out with him; I bet he'll be pissed I'm doing it with you now after I ignored him for so long."

"Okay— Arceus, I need to ask so many questions! But first if you want to get into shape we need to talk about your diet." Holy crap, I'd never heard her speak to quickly. "Then we can move on into what kind of muscles you want to develop— I'm assuming legs, 'cause trainer, duh! We actually have an indoor gym for people and Pokemon we can use underground, so we won't need to go somewhere else…"

Oh, boy. She was even more into this than Chase was, wasn't she?



Perhaps it was thinking of Denzel's own parents, which had me contact mine as soon as I was out of the hospital, or maybe it was getting a figurative cold splash of water on my face yesterday evening when I'd nearly done something I regret— manipulating the girl I love into doing what I wanted to her detriment. Maybe, more simply put, I just missed them and decided I'd had enough of avoiding them.

They'd been staying in a hotel a twenty-minute walk away from mine, this one a lot more humble and affordable. You could still see traces of the old architecture much of the actual, official League Building was made of. Cecilia had called it gothic, a style much more prevalent in Solante, the continent with Kalos, Paldea and Galar. They probably would have met me anywhere and gone out themselves, but I'd only messaged them once being in front of the place. Honey was with me, a boon of reassurance and kindness in case I blew up at them again, and as always, Mimi was there, around my neck this time. Honey also served to soothe my endless worries of a sudden, lethal attack: he would always react faster than them with Protect. Cassianus and he worked in shifts.

I winced when I saw them step out of the empty establishment, already prepared for the worst, but relaxation came easier than I thought when Electivire placed a hand on my shoulder and I saw something else—

My parents weren't angry about me blowing them off; they were genuinely happy to see me again.

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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Chapter 322 - Ozymandias
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

CHAPTER 322 - OZYMANDIAS

Seeing my parents together sure was an oddity. In my mind, they remained two separate entities never to be in the same room simultaneously. I was under no illusion that they'd get back together or some other nonsense; my father had never been one to forgive large slights. Sure, he'd look you in the eye, smile, shake your hand and overall be civil, but he'd never, ever forgive you. He'd lost more hair this year than the last five, it felt like. It usually had just been on his temples, but I'd seen it thin on the back of his head on the way to this bench right next to their hotel. As for my mom, she was hollow, still grieving from losing my grandmother to Galactic. It was mildly terrifying, how hollow she looked when she'd been so peppy and bubbly before. It was almost like staring into a mirror.

Dad's arm wrapped around my shoulder, and he pulled my head on his. "I hope you've been doing better, Grace." Hearing him speak like that was enough to have guilt tunnel through my skin and into my heart. "Your mother and I…"

"We missed you," she exhaled, grabbing one of my hands. "We know you've been through a lot, and we—" Dad glanced at her with a warning in his gaze. "It's okay if you don't want to tell us right now. We'll wait until you're ready."

The tightness within me slightly loosened. "Thanks. I missed you guys too." I gripped the side of the bench and forced a smile. It was the truth, I had wanted to see them again despite how we'd had an argument, but… "Sorry for yelling at you last time. I understand that you're my parents and you want to know what's going on with me."

Everything just felt so stiff. Like I was speaking to acquaintances I hadn't seen in a while, not the people who had brought me into this world. It saddened me greatly, weighed down on my soul like an anchor, to understand that things weren't supposed to be this way, yet to know that there was nothing to be done about it.

My father cleared his throat. "So, Sam and I, we were thinking about what comes next."

"Hm?" I didn't like the sound of that. My instincts were clamoring to get out of dodge like alarm bells. "What do you mean by that?"

A beat of silence passed. "Please don't worry, we won't actually force or pressure you into anything, kiddo," he said. "It's just that you won't be staying on this island forever, right?"

"Right…" I murmured, glancing at the passersby to distract myself. This late in the evening, there were more people than usual, but not that many. It was good enough to have a conversation of this nature in public. Not wanting to intrude unless I gave him a signal, Honey was currently engaged in some conversation with a Raichu a few dozen feet away. I didn't know what it was about, nor if the Raichu was trained or wild, but he kept glancing my way every few seconds.

My mother ran a hand through my hair, which felt nice enough. "We think it'd be good for you to stay home. Not for good, only for a while," she quickly specified. "Maybe see someone like Aliyah again; they have good therapists in Jubilife." Mom raised a finger, as if she'd expected a rejection. "You could come by to Twinleaf if you need to get away from all the noise in the city; I—I'm just about done finishing the paperwork to inherit the house." Her skin paled, in that moment, like even thinking about this was sickening her.

"We think it'd be good for you to get some routine back into your life," dad said with a saddened smile. "I've been looking at getting you some piano classes for the summer, maybe. Meet some new people."

I sighed.

We were just;

Not operating on the same wavelength. They were looking past me, and I past them.

But given everything that had happened—

Maybe it was a good idea. Not that a therapist would work; Aliyah had been the best the League could offer me and I doubted even she would be able to help me as I was now. Maybe I'd say yes anyway to get them off my back, but I wasn't sure.

"Can I think about it?" I asked.

Both of my parents became joy incarnate, in that very moment. Pressure bled away from their faces, leaving only the happiness that could only come from thinking your child was on the road to recovery.

Maybe I was. I was in a better spot than I was two, four, six days ago. It was always one step at a time. Aliyah had told me once, that recovery was not a straight line, but a tumultuous path full of twists and turns. That it was about the destination and the work you were willing to put in.

Yeah.

Yeah, I'd think about it.

"Can we hang out a little more?" I asked, suddenly feeling a little shy.

My mother knelt in front of me and held both of my hands in hers. "Honey, your dad and I would want nothing more than that."

Dad rubbed his chin. "You hungry, kiddo? What do you say we go grab a bite from Arlyle's? They've got one a few streets away."

I wasn't hungry, but I wasn't going to say no to those fries.

"Sure."



The week-end.

"You know," Gardenia said for what she felt was the thousandth time, "the next time you need me here, it'd be nice if you didn't text 'I NEED HELP' in all caps."

It was the middle of the night, and Maylene had basically summoned Gardenia to her Gym— accidentally, according to her. Normally, Gardenia would be sleeping at this hour, trying to get her three to four hours of rest before starting work again, but life had other plans. The grass type Gym Leader yawned as she lounged on the mat in her friend's bedroom, resting her head on her palm. Usually, Maylene would have said something about not putting her hand in front of her mouth, but the younger girl was currently busy rummaging through her closet. Her laptop sat in the corner of the room, half-closed and dimly lit.

"I never said you had to come over!" Maylene protested, looking deeper into her closet. "I thought you'd just call me."

In the corner of the bedroom, Lucario groaned and curled up into a ball. Gardenia figured there was no way he was going to sleep tonight, with how panicked his trainer was.

"I thought you needed help with your dad, not that you needed help to pick clothes for your… hang out."

"If it was an Oscar issue, I just would have called Cecilia— sorry, that sounds rude."

"No, no, I get it," Gardenia lied. It hurt a little, that her little sister wasn't relying on her any longer, but to be fair, she had failed to actually show up when it mattered and Cecilia Obel knew more about handling situations like these than she did. Gardenia frowned, realizing something. "Wait, Oscar?"

Maylene nodded, still facing her closet and relentlessly tapping an anxious foot against the floor. "Yeah. She doesn't call Clarence 'dad' either. I took that from her." She shrugged nonchalantly. Gardenia wasn't used to seeing her talk about her father without shrinking in fear; she had made a lot of progress quickly.

Maylene threw a slew of clothes back, all of them landing on the mat-covered ground that served as her bedding. First to go were the martial arts gis. She pulled out a white gi, its fabric soft and worn from countless training sessions. She hesitated for a moment, fingers tracing the familiar material, before throwing it aside. Gardenia internally sighed in relief; what a horrible choice that would have been. Next came a variety of tank tops and sleeveless shirts. Bold reds, deep blues, and stark blacks fluttered through the air, landing haphazardly on the floor. Then came the athletic shorts, the sport bras, the jogging and yoga pants, the t-shirts—

"I don't get it," Gardenia said. "Aren't you just doing sports stuff together? Just wear something other than your Gym Leader uniform so you can be more casual and call it a day." She waved a dismissive hand at Maylene, who glared at her.

"I need to pick something that makes me look good. Obviously, I don't know what that is." She ran a hand through her short, pink hair and bit her lip. "Just help me out? Sorry for making you panic, I just— I was a little overwhelmed."

Nia sighed. "I can't be mad at you for long," she said with a slight smile. It wasn't like she couldn't relate to this; she had been nervous about what to wear when meeting up with Candice for… at least a year and a half after they'd met, and she still fished for compliments all the time. Gardenia sat cross-legged and hummed, grabbing a pair of gray shorts off the ground. "What I said does still apply, though. You don't have to overthink it, unless you want to ask the kid out somewhere else after or before."

"N—no! I don't. This is something to help her, nothing more."

Gardenia tilted her head, happy to tease her. "But you want to look nice."

"I do! But I don't know— I look too much like a kid and I hate it! I mean, they…" she trailed off, and her cheeks reddened. She looked down at her feet, as if ashamed of herself.

Gardenia's gaze softened. That was a new one; Maylene had never complained about her figure before.

"C'mon, Maymay, you look great, and you are a kid. So are… they?" Gardenia wasn't really sure about what was going on, but her time as a Gym Trainer and Leader had taught her to go with the flow of things. "Where is this coming from, anyway? The times where Candice would bring this up, you usually said a bigger chest would be annoying because you move around so much and it'd get in the way." It wasn't unusual for a teenager or even young adults to worry about these things. Maylene just had never been that kind of teenager.

Granted, she'd never been in love with anyone else before. Grace Pastel was somewhat average, as far as things went. That Cecilia Obel girl had… grown up fast, which happened sometimes.

"And even if you don't get any bigger, it's not the end of the world," Gardenia added, thinking of Candice— who was obviously the most beautiful girl on the planet, and it wasn't even close. "And hey, I'm not saying looks don't matter for… relationships of a vague nature." She gestured at Maylene. When she realized what Gardenia had alluded to, she told her to shut up through clenched teeth. "Okay, okay! Anyway, they do, but not as much as what's in here." She pointed at her own heart. "And you've got a heart of gold, Maymay. How sweet you are is your strongest asset. I'm sure your friend will think you'll look good, anyway; who wouldn't?

Maylene groaned. "Ugh, you're right; I'm just feeling insecure, I guess. I haven't been thinking straight these past few days." When Gardenia barely managed to contain her snort, Maylene squinted at her. "What's up with you? You were angry at me and now you're laughing at me."

"Hey, I'm not laughing at…" wait, she was laughing at her. "Anyway, if this is just to help her, why go through all of this?" Gardenia asked. "You know, you never worried about stuff like this before."

Maylene stayed silent for a few seconds and had that flabbergasted look she sometimes pulled when she ran out of words. Gardenia was having way too much fun with this, but she couldn't push that hard. Better let her realize that she liked Grace on her own without her doing— and honestly, that idea was still so weird and foreign to her that it left a strange taste in her mouth, even after she'd let it percolate there for a few days. She didn't know Grace Pastel much, but what she did know should have had Maylene less than satisfied. Maybe she was looking at it wrong.

She'd kept it a secret, of course; normally she would have told Candice already, but she was… struggling with Craig's death.

Gardenia would have also laid it all on the table and told her about her feelings, had Craig not died and they both hadn't been swamped with work. There was only so much she could delay it by, but now wasn't the right time. Odds were, it'd just scare her off when what she needed was her closest friend, not to have to rethink and reframe all of their interactions since they'd known each other. All she could do right now was be there for her until she finished mourning, and then Gardenia could finally get the feelings she'd been carrying for years off her chest. She had waited for four years; she could wait a few more weeks.

Normally, she'd only act if the odds of success were ninety percent or higher, but screw it. It might ruin everything, or it might make her the happiest woman in the world. Either way, Gardenia was done wallowing in the self-pity of being in love with her straight best friend. A perfect opportunity with the highest chances of success would never come. She had to take matters into her own hands.

"Because… just because!" Maylene finally answered, threw her hands up and then jabbed a finger toward her. "Plus, you want to look good when you hang out with Candice, too! You always go the extra mile when you're with her outside of a work setting!"

Ouch. That was true enough, but in the most hilarious way possible. "'Guess you're right, Maymay, sorry about that. Here," Gardenia grabbed a blue top from the ground. "Wear this tank top— leave a little stomach exposed. That's always nice, and yours is great; your back, too. Wear the black yoga pants. Or I guess you could call them dark gray. They highlight your form nicely." She threw the clothes at Maylene, who caught them flawlessly, as always. Her reflexes were top notch. "There, you're all set. You don't need my help for underwear, do you? Though you know, if your friendship ever veers that way, I'm open to help—"

Maylene turned as red as a tomato. "Ugh, Nia! I've—I've told you a million times it's not like that!" she silently hissed, mindful of Lucario. "She has a girlfriend!"

"I'm just joking around." Gardenia snickered and went up to side-hug her friend, right before doubt began to creep in. Doubt at what if she was doing was okay. Grace had a girlfriend, one she was apparently very close with. She didn't know much of what had gone on in Coronet, yet it was evident both girls had gone through much with Maylene.

Was she a bad person for this?

Gardenia stared at the ceiling to think, pursing her lips as she debated her inner self. She didn't know enough about Grace or Cecilia to know if Maylene had a chance or not; she wasn't doing this with the goal of sinking their relationship, and to be honest, thinking about it a little longer, she remembered that both girls were supposed to leave the country in a few months, so her friend's odds were actually low. Chances were, the distance would turn this endeavor to a hopeless one, which meant that Maylene had to at least get a foot in the door and make this Grace girl notice her romantically before she left Sinnoh if she wanted this to be anything more than a passing summer crush.

Maylene had her work cut out for her, even if she didn't know it quite yet. Gardenia wanted to help more than she was, but going too fast might ruin things before they could take hold, and micromanaging a bunch of traumatized teenagers sounded like a bunch of work she couldn't deal with right now. Plus, getting involved involved would make her question her own actions even more.

It was just…

Gardenia knew what it was like, to pine for a girl with a hopeless crush— she'd known how that felt like for years. It hurt, even now. She could relate to what Maylene was going through, or what she was going to go through very soon. Gardenia knew Maymay well enough to understand that at her core, she preferred avoiding tough issues instead of tackling them head on, but it was only a matter of time until she realized her own feelings, anyway, and then the hurt would begin. It was why she was still pretending with this whole 'she's just my friend' shtick despite being emotionally smart enough to know better. She had blinded herself, hoisted her inner feelings onto a throne of lies, hoping it wouldn't collapse, hoping it would last forever.

Still, Gardenia decided there was nothing wrong with a little push. She watched Maylene hang her clothes back in her closet, humming a happy song to herself now that she knew what to wear. She couldn't have been more obvious if she hung up a sign spelling out 'I'm in love' on her back. Honestly it was a wonder the other girls hadn't figured this out already, with how often they saw or spoke to each other.

Ah, this is so confusing, she thought with a heavy breath. At the heart of it all, she just wanted to help her friend, the strangeness of the situation be damned. If it petered out or led to a preemptive rejection because Maylene couldn't be more obvious if she tried, then Gardenia would be a shoulder to cry on. Again.

"You know— what if I don't know what to say?" Maylene muttered as she closed the closet hidden in the wall.

"What?" Gardenia scoffed. "Don't you two text and call and stuff? There's gotta be a dynamic already established, right?"

"I mean, I guess? Everything feels kind of formal because I'm scared to overstep. I used to do it with Cecilia too, but she's a little angry at me at the moment and we just started talking again." Was that her way of reassuring herself that Grace was just another friend? Probably. "Anyway, it's not the same over the phone… don't look at me like that! We haven't been on our own since— well, since we got our hearing aids!"

"Ah, yes, the time where she asked if you wanted to get matching pink ones," Gardenia deadpanned. Not exactly a sign in and of itself, but it at least meant Grace considered they were close. "Wasn't that like slightly over a week ago? Just act natural."

Maylene's arms dropped limp to her side. "You don't get it."

"No, I do! You'll be nervous at the start, but hey, once you start talking to her about working out, you'll get into the groove of things and you'll be able to go with the flow."

Maylene's face went through a myriad of emotions, in that moment. She wanted to fight her, Gardenia knew. To go into every detail, as if they could plan everything she was going to say. In the end, she relented. "Yeah, that probably makes sense… wait, what if I talk too much and weird her out? Because I already talked to her about that stuff for way too long on the phone until she actually had to hang up and go see her parents. What if she gets bored of it, Nia?"

"I mean, she listened to it the first time over the phone, no? Did she sound bored then?"

Maylene fiddled her thumbs. "I don't think so? She always sounds super interested in stuff, I think, and she's really excited to get her body moving again."

"Then you'll be fine."

"…what if I make her work too hard on accident? My standards are way too high because I mainly work on myself and Pokemon…"

Legendaries have mercy on her soul. She wasn't even involved in any of this, and she was more mentally tired here than she'd been after work today. While Lucario snored, having finally fallen back asleep, Gardenia spent the next ten minutes reassuring her friend that things were going to be okay. That so long as she didn't overthink things, she'd live through tomorrow fine and hopefully have a great time. It felt good to see her be a normal kid and worry about crushes, for a change. After the shadow that Galactic had hung over Sinnoh, talks like this were welcomed.

Maylene quietly crawled to her laptop, typed a short sentence and started rhythmically clicking on the trackpad. "Thanks, Nia. Sorry for calling you over so late, I'll make it up to you somehow. You can give me some of your paperwork, if you want; if you give me the right info I'll fill it out for you."

"Nah, don't worry about it, just have a good time on your… whatever this is."

"It's a lesson. She's my student and I'm her gym coach." She sounded slightly miffed, just like every time Gardenia had tried to hint that maybe there was something more to this. "Alright, I'll call your Kadabra over; he must have gone downstairs to exchange knowledge with mine when he realized this would take long." Maylene slowly got up and tiptoed around Lucario. "Feel free to stay here in the meantime, I'll bring him."

So;

It hadn't been Gardenia's goal to look at what was on Maylene's laptop screen. She'd just gone to look out the window to get some fresh air. Veilstone's was noticeably worst than Eterna's, and Gardenia believed they should have started working on a green city program to solve some of their pollution issues, but one thing at a time—

Anyway, when she turned back around, all disappointed in the air quality, she noticed something in the corner of her eye, and it really wasn't her fault that Maylene hadn't put her laptop to sleep or turned it off. Gardenia had always been observant. You could put something at the edge of her peripheral vision for a split second and she'd be able to tell you what it was in detail nine times out of ten.

'How to know if you are gay'. There were a few tabs open of articles or blogs about this, along with a test that would probably ask really obvious questions with really obvious answers that really, only gay people in denial took in hopes of getting a different answer. Gardenia would know; she had been in the same position three weeks after meeting Candice and she realized that maybe she'd been looking at her lips and thinking of kissing her a little too much, let alone having her on her mind so much to the point that she started having weird domestic dreams about living together with her. Getting a home somewhere next to a boreal forest to combine both ice and grass, getting married, growing old together—

Three weeks. "Damn you, Candice. You had me wrapped around your finger so quickly and you didn't even know it," Gardenia whispered in the night.

Anyway…

The point was: Maylene wasn't completely clueless. She would most likely spend the next hour or so scouring through this, though Gardenia doubted her nerves would let her fall asleep right away anyway. It was only a matter of time until that domino fell, and once that began, the revelation would be sooner rather than later, as predicted. Gardenia didn't stare for long, deciding to act as if she hadn't seen anything.

Knowing Maylene, there was a way she'd remain in denial even after this. Gardenia would strike a conversation with her about it the next time they spoke to at least get that first hurdle out of the way.

When Maylene came back with Gardenia's Kadabra, they shared a short hug.

"Let me know how it goes, okay?" Gardenia said. "Keep me updated on this; I'm rooting for you."

Maylene scoffed. "Wha— okay I guess? You're being weird."

"No I'm not." Nia squeezed her shoulders. "Good luck, Maymay."



Maylene's Gym was a lot more active this week-end than before, which made sense considering they were going to be the first one to reopen. I could see them filtering through the lobby, sometimes carrying heavy cardboard boxes or transporting Pokemon to other areas of the gym. I'd been waiting for a few minutes for Maylene to get here, but she was late. Maylene was a busy person, and though she did have the next few hours free, normally she would have thrown herself into work anyway, so she was using this time just because I'd asked her to help. My phone rang with a message from Cece— a picture of Sweetheart having fun out of the League with Scizor looking annoyed at all the noise she was making and Talonflame flying over her. I'd handed her over for the day so she'd be able to do something other than stay in a Pokeball all afternoon. Her size made it difficult to accommodate her and have her out at all times like the others, so making time for her like this was something I'd wanted to do for a while.

My body shivered, and I hugged myself. It was a little cold— I'd dressed with working out in mind, not thinking about the fact that Gyms had air conditioning on during the summer. It was the worst on my legs and neck. I had tied my hair up into a ponytail so it wouldn't get in the way, so my nose was starting to get a little runny. There was a change of clothes in my bag (along with the rest of my team; Mimi was around my wrist, as always, content to observe until they fell asleep) because of the plan to see Bellatrix and Nightstalker after this; even so, it was a little too late to get changed when Maylene would get here any minute now.

I spent the next two minutes scrolling through my phone until she got here, peeking her head into the lobby from one of the hallways leading upstairs to her room and office. She sighed in relief to herself when she saw me, and then responded to my wave with a timid one of her own. Nervousness was plastered all over her when we walked up to each other. The way her eyes darted around, unable to stay fixated on one spot; her need to take a deep breath before meeting me; her uneven steps when she was usually more confident in her stride.

Hopefully this wasn't too much pressure on her. I didn't want to get in the way of her work.

"I'm so sorry, I was… busy," Maylene said. She wiped her hands on her yoga pants and then hid her stomach by crossing her arms. I could relate, as someone whose palms sweated often when I was nervous. "I hope I don't look weird or anything…"

"Hm?" I looked her up and down. Honestly, I'd expected her to be in her official Gym clothes, but this was kind of typical for the kind of activity we were going to do as well. "I mean, you look great like usual? You're rocking those clothes for sure, they look good on you." Honestly, I didn't think she'd show this much skin, but it genuinely did look nice.

Maylene beamed, making a little Dedenne-like squeak. She must have really liked compliments.

"And hey, just letting you know, I really appreciate you doing this, okay?" I wanted to reassure her that I didn't have any kind of insane expectations, or anything. "We can just hang out and have a good time. Really, I just wanna take my mind off things."

Maylene slowly nodded, digesting my words with a huge grin. "Cool, um, working out is great to do that. We should go then." A little nervous laugh escaped her. She was so much more at ease than moments ago.

Instead of going up the stairs this time, she led me down. The Gym was a lot less polished down in the lower floors. Paint was chipped here more often, and boxes of stuff littered the ground everywhere— the few ones that were open had anything from unopened packets of Pokemon food, to electrical wires to extra light bulbs. The lights here were a little dimmer than upstairs, but overall this wasn't that strange of a place. It was just surprising, because when I pictured a Gym, I pictured something pristine.

I glanced at Maylene, who was still smiling. "You know," I walked up to her level with my hands behind my back so we were side by side, then tilted my head at her, "I didn't know you had a thing for praise."

Maylene's soul jumped out of her skin. "W—what do you mean?"

I nudged her arm with my elbow a few times. "C'mon, don't play coy with me! I get it, you know." Plus, she must have not gotten praised much growing up with her dad, so it made sense. "I'll keep that in mind from now on."

"I mean, I won't stop you… do whatever you want." Maylene turned away from me.

I grinned. "Yeah, 'cause you like it; it's fine."

"...maybe I like it. But who wouldn't?!" she hastily protested.

"Did I ever say people wouldn't? I even said I got it!" My laugh reverberated through the basement, and Maylene was forced to admit defeat. She was a fun one to tease, but I couldn't go overboard with it, or I'd get too focused on 'winning' the conversation instead of having fun. "Woah, look at that."

The space opened up into a vast chamber, its ceiling high enough to make me forget I was underground. Rows of equipment, some familiar and others I'd never seen before, filled the area. Iron weights, punching bags, treadmills, stationary bikes… there really was a lot here. The floor was a patchwork of different surfaces—rubber mats, grippy tiles that fit together like a jigsaw puzzle and smooth concrete.

"What're you doing? C'mon, it's just a gym," Maylene said. She dragged me over by the wrist, then froze and took her hand away as if she'd just touched a stove. "Uh, anyway, usually this place would be filled up around the mornings or in the evening, but it's been unused since the bombings for obvious reasons." She led me to a small expanse of soft mats. "We should have the whole place to ourselves this afternoon."

"Great! So, how do we start?" My eyes wandered toward the treadmills, which were nearby—

"No, before doing anything, you've got to stretch. It's important; always stretch before doing any strenuous activities."

"Right, sorry. I guess I thought that was, like, optional."

My friend stared at me like one would a helpless child. "Oh, boy…"

"I'm not— I'm not stupid! I just needed a little refresher, that's all." Legendaries, was there anything more embarrassing than looking clueless in front of an expert? "I get it…"

"No you don't. First and foremost, stretching helps to increase blood flow to your muscles so you warm them up and prepare them for your workout. You reduce the risk of injury by making your muscles more flexible and less prone to straining and tearing…" Maylene continued rambling about the importance of stretching for at least thirty seconds until she stopped. "Why're you making that face at me? Did— did I bore you? I'm sorry."

Ah. Most likely, it looked like I'd been studying her.

I held my hands up. "Not at all! I like listening to people talk about what they're passionate about. It's really cute and it lets me pick their brain a little. You wouldn't believe how many times I've had to listen to my friends rant." I started counting on my fingers. "There's Emi with contests, Pauline with fashion, Denzel with streaming and celebrities… Maylene?" The Gym Leader had turned away from me and was starting to heave and muttering to herself. "Are you okay?" I went to touch her shoulder—

"I'mperfectlyfine!" She spun and clapped her hands, though her face was a little red. "Anyway, stretching! Since today we'll be focusing on legs, we'll do leg stretches."

Maylene directed me to sit on the mats, and I followed her instructions. Maylene introduced me to something called sitting hamstring stretches, demonstrating in front of me. After sitting, she extended her right leg forward, flexed her foot and slowly bent at the hips, reaching towards her toes until her hands easily touched them. Even if her back was bent forward, it remained completely straight, and she took a series of deep breaths as she moved. After holding the position for thirty seconds, she switched legs, repeating the motion with the same careful precision. There was a certain grace to her movements. The subtle tension beneath her skin coming from her lean muscles exerting themselves; she might not look it at first glance, but she was really fit if you looked a little deeper. It was kind of like seeing a gymnast at work.

"You're really flexible," I noted.

"You've got to be, if you want to fight," she said, as if this was as easy as breathing to her. "Oscar used to say my body had to flow like water. He's a shit parent, but I think that advice was sound— anyway, you start as well."

It was a lot more difficult than it looked. No matter how much I pushed, my back wouldn't bend as much as Maylene's, and it felt like someone was pulling the tendons out of my thighs. When I said I'd be tapping out, Maylene came over and kept her hand on my back to push me.

"Ow, ow, ow."

Maylene scoffed. "I'm not pushing that much; don't be a baby. Just hold a little longer—"

She cut herself off, for some reason. After a while, I spoke up again. "Hasn't it been thirty seconds?"

"Y—yeah. Switch legs." I heard her audibly swallow. Was she nervous again? I hadn't said anything odd.

After those stretches, we moved on standing hamstring stretches, which were even harder somehow, but Maylene said it was better to ramp them up. Luckily, that was it for my thighs, because they were already on fire; somehow, sweat was already accumulating on my skin, and I hadn't even started to do anything workout related yet! The next set was easier and focused on my lower leg. Maylene had me push against a wall and fully extend my leg until I felt a pull in my calves. This pose, she had me hold for a full minute for each leg.

"There, see? That wasn't that bad!" she exclaimed with a triumphant smile. "You did pretty okay, for a first timer."

"My legs already hurt a little…" I whined a little more than what was necessary.

"That's good; that's what makes you feel alive, right? Now, the actual warmup isn't done. You've got to do a little cardio before we get into the meat of things. You were looking at the treadmills earlier, so set up a run for ten minutes. Here, I'll do one with you." Again, she was speaking twice as fast as usual. She reminded me a little of myself when I'd dump all my knowledge about the ways Gym Leaders fought after studying them. "Oh, drink water first, though. I assume you've brought some?"

"Mhm." Bending over, I pulled the water out of my bag and started drinking.



Maylene couldn't stand to look at Grace drink water.

Her eyes kept gravitating somewhere they shouldn't have because Gardenia put some weird ideas in her head yesterday. At least she'd come in clutch, and thanks to her Grace had told Maylene she looked great. Great! She was on cloud nine right now; this would be able to sustain her all day tomorrow when she got back to work. She was cute! Cute! And she looked great, and was cute, and great, and cute, and everything was going well! So well it was hard not to smile all the time!

"So do I just go on the treadmill now, or?" Her friend (and there was nothing more than that) had come over wearing gym shorts she had bought the day prior, according to a message she'd sent, and she was wearing another one of her simple t-shirts that was more baggy than not. It was so large in fact that it basically covered her shorts. Maylene figured that maybe that was for the best for her soundness of mind, even if Grace looked really good in anything. It was one of her merch samples with her Togekiss flying into the sky on it; a little corny, but in an endearing way. Maylene knew she missed her starter, and this was a way to feel closer to her until tomorrow when she'd get her back.

The Gym Leader decided to turn away from Grace for the safety of her own mind, but it'd be impolite not to look at someone who was talking to you, or at least in their direction. Maylene had tried her best to keep her eyes from wandering, which meant that ninety percent of the time she was looking at random stuff around Grace instead of at her. She'd allowed herself to slip when she'd helped her stretch, but had no idea necks could be that…

That what?

Maylene internally shook her head. This was Gardenia's fault. "S—sure." She averted her gaze again, sheepishly scratching the back of her head. "Keep it at a light jog for now, you don't want to exhaust yourself."

Grace gave her a lazy thumbs up reminiscent of her Electivire. "Sure thing."

Both girls got started on their treadmills, with Maylene deciding to go at a sprint, which was her warm up. Plus, going fast would help clear her head from the thoughts that shouldn't be there. The girl shut her eyes, closing herself off to the world. It was only the blood pumping in her legs, the sound of the treadmill and her feet stomping on the ground every split second.

It wasn't just because of Gardenia.

Yesterday, Maylene had discovered she was most likely some shade of gay. She'd never thought about liking people until she'd met—

Better not finish that line of thought.

Anyway, she found girls attractive, which was what gay meant. Not any girls in particular, just girls in general, of course. Maylene had believed that maybe there'd be some nuance to it or that every girl felt the same way, but apparently not. This was something she'd never felt with boys, but then again she'd never had friends her age until now, so maybe it'd be different at some point. Maylene had gone to sleep with that knowledge in her head and hadn't even told anyone yet, not even Lucario. What was the point, anyway? It wasn't like it would lead to anything. It wasn't like it mattered; she could just keep going as she was now and be happy with what she had. It was important not to get greedy.

Breathe in, breathe out; Maylene was a machine who rarely got physically tired. She was on top of the world right now, and she would remain so as long as she didn't let her mind wander. As long as she kept her eyes shut and didn't look to her left for too long. As long as she told herself that this was nothing more than a desperate need for friendship with someone her age she'd lacked her entire life.

Once the ten minutes ran out, Maylene opened herself up to the world again. The treadmills beeped continuously, and they slowed down progressively until they came to a stop over the course of another two minutes.

"How was it?" Maylene asked.

"I'm okay," she heaved, leaning against her knees. "That was the warm up, though?"

Maylene couldn't help but admire her for trying so hard when she was so weak and fragile… like glass, really. Scarred all over, even if you ignored that half her body was burned. Sure, there was her arm from the raid, but Maylene had recently discovered one on her back— a Paras bite, Grace had nonchalantly called it. It made Maylene want to protect her.

"Yeah, it was." Her throat felt dry no matter how much water Maylene drank. "Ready for the next thing? We're doing squats next."

"Whaaat? Don't I get a break?" she pleaded in that sweet, higher pitched voice.

"You can get a break after the leg press." Maylene pointed behind her with her thumb. "That's after the squats, now come on. I assume you know what those are like."

Grace pouted; it was difficult not to be enthralled by the way her lips moved. She did a lot of stuff with her lips, come to think of it; Grace was a very expressive person. Pouting, smiling, lip-biting, pursing, tightening— really, you'd think that she'd run out of ways to move them, but Maylene was pretty sure she got to see a new one every time they spoke. Today it had been the hint of a smirk when she had complained about her legs hurting. One new one was good; Maylene didn't need to covet for any more today, or she'd get greedy.

Don't get greedy.



As it turned out, my squatting form was awful. I had no idea why until Maylene told me I had to keep my chest high and my heels on the ground, and it instantly became twice as difficult. Luckily, she was going to go easy on me after those because it was important not to go too hard for my first time in the gym, so I was looking forward to that. My legs already felt like they were on fire and I was dripping with sweat. Not only that, but every breath of air I took made my lungs feel like they were on fire by the end of my sets. I was a little ashamed, but hey, this was what I'd come here to do and my stamina would slowly improve the more we did this.

Having Maylene here was a godsend, really. She was here to tell me when I messed up, but she also made the experience a lot of fun; if she hadn't been there I'd probably either have given up or fucked up with the machines, somehow. To help me, she put a moderate amount of weight on the leg press and then I finally got my break. I was lying flat against the mats where we'd stretched, and she stood a little ways away from me.

"You know," I exhaled. With each breath, I sucked in air like every breath would be my last. "Going to the gym is tough, but I kind of get it."

"Hmhm. It's a lot of fun, and it can make you feel like you're progressing toward a personal goal you set. Or, you know, you can push yourself to vent out your frustrations." Maylene crossed her arms, but not shyly like she'd done earlier in the day, covering up her stomach. "Usually I'd blast a motivational speech in my headphones or something."

"Motivational speech?"

"Yeah… like those videos online of people telling you that you can achieve your goals or to keep pushing. It's a little embarrassing." Her voice was quiet, and she blushed a little.

I pushed myself up to sit. "Not at all. If that's what got you through your childhood, then I'm glad you listened to those. You know," my head tilted to the side, "I believe in fate and stories stuff." Talking about stories with her wasn't something I felt comfortable with, especially since that part of me had hurt her so much. I still felt guilty over that, during sleepless nights where all I had for company were my thoughts. I didn't feel like I deserved forgiveness, but I was done arguing about it. "If you hadn't, maybe we wouldn't have met. It's like that with everyone I know; every little action they took in their lives led them to this, the specific combination of things they needed to do to meet me and save the world. It's a little mind-boggling, really—" I blinked, then covered my mouth. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I just think the sum of the little things that make the world is beautiful, I guess."

"You don't have to hold yourself back, you know? You can just speak your mind with me," Maylene said.

"I know. Just not… that."

She squinted at me with suspicion and slowly made her way toward me. The Gym Leader sat in front of me cross-legged, and suddenly I felt very, very small.

"You're feeling guilty again, aren't you? About our Gym Battle."

I couldn't bear to look at her in the face at times like these. "I know you've forgiven me and that we're friends, I just haven't forgiven myself."

"How long until you do?"

"I don't know. I just know I won't until it feels right, and I don't know when that moment will come," I muttered, tapping the floor with a finger. It was worse now that I'd gotten confirmation from seeing Virtuous help Maylene directly. I could have had an effect.

Maylene grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. "I'll stay by your side until you do. And if it takes longer than a few months, I'll call every day when you… leave." Pain flashed across her face for a moment. "Maybe I'll take a sabbatical when Sinnoh's back on its feet for like a month. I'm sure Cynth can find some work for me to do there, even if I'd need to get diplomatically trained. The point is, I won't give it a rest until you feel like you have nothing to atone for."

Smiling, I glanced up at her. "Thanks. Sorry for souring the mood."

"I mean, I was gonna ask you what kind of videos you look at, but this was okay, too," she laughed. "You have… soft hands. Can I say that?"

"Why wouldn't you? I've gotten a bunch of compliments over them lately, it's pretty sweet." Our fingers were interlocked; I hoped she didn't mind the sweat too much. Actually, I probably smelled terrible right now. Her hands were a little bigger than mine. "Yours are kind of coarse, but I like it. Must be from using them so much; it's an interesting texture."

She snorted. "An interesting texture? Who talks like that?"

"It's not weird! I'm sure people say that sometimes."

"Yeah. Just you, you dork." Then, as if Maylene had realized something, she went quiet and a shadow began to loom over her face. "I think that's the end of your break." She stood up, and I let go of her hand. "Let's get you started on the second half. I'm gonna go pick up some dumbbells, and you're going to do lunges."

"Huh."

For some reason, from this point onward, Maylene looked a little restrained. She gave short answers for my questions, not sounding anywhere as passionate as she had minutes ago, and when I tried to steer the conversation away from gym stuff to see if that was the problem, she got even worse. It was odd, considering I thought things had been going really well before; we'd had a fun day and for a little bit, things had been so much lighter. Maylene had adjusted to post-Galactic life so quickly, and I had let myself get swept up by her inner strength. It had been… mindless fun. Something I couldn't experience with anyone else, as things stood right now.

So why? Why had she closed herself off and deprived me of that?

The question had frustrated me enough by the end of our session, while we took a bit of a break on the mats, I was willing to throw one final wrench into her plans to just get back into her shell. Sure, every muscle in my body was aching (somehow, focusing on legs had made even my arms hurt), but it was going to be a joke, anyway.

Not a serious attempt at sparring.

"Hey, check this out." The corner of my lip stretched into a smirk, and I put my hands up. I threw a jab in the air— "Ow, ow, my arm. Ugh." My left bicep throbbed a little, pulsating with pain.

Maylene chuckled. "What's with you?"

"Hey, I made you laugh. C'mon, let's spar!" I kicked forward so clumsily than Maylene laughed again at the fact that I nearly fell over. "Blegh. My legs feel like jelly."

"You're silly, you know that?" she said with a sigh. "It's kind of a new side to you."

"Believe it or not, I used to be a lot like this; I just grew up this year, I guess." That was for obvious reasons. "You kind of bring it out of me." That, and I wanted to cheer her up again. More jabs, this time slower so I didn't accidentally pull something. "So are you gonna fight me, or not? Show me what you got."

Maylene pondered for a moment;

She put her hands up. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

I froze up. "W—wait, what?"

"Three, two—"

"What?!"

"One."

Maylene blurred forward—



Her form was so clumsy it looped back to kind of being adorable. She was wide open, hadn't centered herself and her hands weren't actually covering her face. Was Maylene a little unfair, moving so quickly she'd barely have time to react? Yes, maybe. Her reaction was priceless, though. The way her face slowly moved from smugness to disbelief, then how her hands moved to protect her face. The human body was easy to provoke like that; it wanted to protect the brain above all. Maylene wasn't actually going to hurt her, she'd just wanted to scare her a tiny bit and knock her down. Instead, she swept Grace's feet—

Huh. The grip on her soles felt wrong. Maylene continued sliding a little more than she was used to, and it was then that she remembered these mats were the usual commercial stuff gyms usually bought, not the tailor-made ones that covered the Veilstone Gym's training rooms. She tripped, but she managed to catch herself before she could actually fall on Grace.

Maylene was still on top of her, though. She was now hovering over her friend. Her arms were extended, palms pressed firmly into the ground on either side of the girl's head beneath her.

"Crap," Grace groaned. "Maylene, are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Are you—"

Her breath caught in her throat.

Power over your own mind was never eternal; all misapprehensions of this scale were eventually bound to disintegrate into dust, either through your own reasoning, by getting dragged into reality or a mixture of both.

Maylene had tried.

She'd tried so hard. But there came a moment where one could no longer keep spinning a web of lies they wrapped themselves in; one where delusion would crumble apart from the tiniest moment like an avalanche started by a single pebble. Here, with Grace below Maylene, her golden hair splayed out around her head, radiating like the sun's corona; here, where her pale, sweaty skin and her freckles glittered under the ceiling lights; here, where she panted and stared up at her with her beautiful green eyes; here, where Maylene was close enough to catch her intoxicating smell.

Here, where she had asked Maylene if she was okay after she'd been the one to risk hurting her on accident.

In this single instant;

The grand facade Maylene had built, convincing herself she felt nothing, lay in broken fragments shattered beneath her feet. Every protective layer of this cocoon she had weaved around herself collapsed with but a single thought that spread within her mind like a drop of dark ink in water. A deep longing from far within that she had desperately buried within the deepest reaches of her mind and tried to keep under lock and key.

It hadn't been enough. All of that, undone by one mistake; one fraying notion that would both brighten and darken her world.

Ah, I want to kiss her.

This moment; it was perfect. Too perfect, and that made Maylene want to rip her heart out and beat it up for having a mind of its own. With this revelation came clarity. The truth now stood stark and undeniable. Every lie she had told, every facade she had upheld, every thought she had interrupted, unraveled in an instant. That feeling she'd had when looking at Grace and Cecilia had been jealousy at what they had. The constant need to look at her, the anxiety, the yearning, the dreams, the way she loved her so much that it fucking hurt.

It was all out there for her to see. No longer could she pull the wool over her eyes and ignore the obvious.

And with that clarity came the pain, because it was hopeless. Unrequited love that gnawed at your heart, leaving her hollow inside. Where every interaction would be laced with the sting of impossibility, and yet, she knew she would still cherish those moments, even if they led to nowhere. This pain, it was relentless, it was excruciating, it was agony.

It was love.

"Maylene?" Grace asked. She was frowning, now.

"Sorry," she said, feeling strangely calm. Her skin was tingling with warmth and cold. It was as if an hour had passed, yet it had only been seconds. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

Grace didn't say anything, so Maylene took that as her cue to leave.

She wanted to run.

Why did it have to be her?



The pace of her steps quickened the further away she got from me. My back lay against the ground, and I stared up at the bright, fluorescent lights on the gym's ceiling. If you focused and let it get really quiet, you could hear the ventilation chugging along in pipes right above the room.

I hadn't stopped her from leaving. Couldn't stop her. I'd been blind to it until now; the fact that she liked me, and not Cece. With the way she looked at me, things were undeniable. I'd only seen Cecilia stare at me that way, and for a moment I thought she'd actually go for it and I'd need to stop her.

Why?

Why, why, why, why why, why, why? Why me? I wasn't— I wasn't right for her— the timeline— I didn't embody virtue— this couldn't be real— it didn't make any sense— it wasn't supposed to be this way

Maybe I had misread things?

No. No, I had not.

I exhaled, letting my hands cover my face. "What the hell…?"

I just couldn't make sense of it. The pieces didn't fit right. Even if she'd forgiven me for what I'd done during our Gym Battle, I had murdered dozens in front of her, thrown the entire world under the bus just to get my daughter closure, and if it hadn't been for her, I might have done so much worse and she knew it. I was just a sick, sick person who got lucky Cecilia even bothered to look her way. Who was lucky she'd even gotten another chance.

My eyes were tearing up. Sniffling, I slowly rose to the ground and stared around the empty gym with a vapid, empty feeling inside of me. When had things grown so complicated? Since when had she felt this way? It couldn't be before Coronet. Maybe after? During? No, that felt too soon. Things would just be so much easier if she thought of me as a friend instead of this.

To be honest, it'd be easier to pretend not to have noticed anything. To act clueless and greet her with a smile when she came back as if nothing had happened. She'd probably go along with it, too. It just wouldn't be fair to her, would it? I'd be using her. A finger hovered over my metallic bracelet, but I decided otherwise. None of my Pokemon would be able to help me with this.

What an unmitigated disaster.

"What do I even do?"

Talk to her right when she came back and let her down gently? But then she'd take her distance from me, just like when Louis had gone off on his own after realizing he'd had no chance of rekindling things with Cecilia, and it took months for us to actually be friends again. Cece would be leaving after Justin's funeral, and if I couldn't depend on her and Maylene was also not an option, then—

I wasn't going to survive without some major pain, even if I went back to my dad's.

Arceus damn it, what was I going to tell Cece? I had to tell her; it wouldn't be right to keep this hidden.

There were no clean options, nothing that would leave everyone unscathed and allow us to go back to how things were before. It was all different shades of how selfish I really was. One had to be, to not want to reject a girl she didn't love back romantically just for her own well-being.



Maylene barely made it back in time to her room before aura started whipping up around her like a storm. Her body felt tight. Untempered. Tears began to stream down her face and wouldn't stop. She curled up in a ball, rocking herself back and forth as the cold blue light encompassed more and more of the room, lashing out at anything it touched. Like the crack of a whip, sparks and arcs of blue energy flew out in all directions. Each strike left a faint, smoldering mark on the walls and furniture, as if the room itself was being etched with her pain.

She recalled her lessons; the many times she'd had to calm herself down from exploding at work because of how overwhelmed she got. Maylene took a few deep breaths, muttering assuring words to herself. She couldn't close her eyes, not when Grace breathless below her was still imprinted on her mind. Little by little, Maylene's aura receded within her. Her breathing steadied, her sobbing grew more controlled, and at last, her heart stopped beating against her chest like a prisoner trying to escape by breaking through their cell.

It wasn't fully contained; it still coated every inch of her skin, but it'd be enough to let people touch her, and that meant it was enough to grab a phone without breaking it, at least. Immense guilt wracked her when she glanced at Cecilia's contact information— more blue flames burst from her hand and cracked the center of her phone screen. Biting on her tongue to focus, Maylene called Gardenia for help.

Help with what, she didn't know. Maybe all she wanted were reassuring words that everything was going to be okay.

It took two calls for her friend to answer. On the other end of the line, Maylene could hear a bunch of people talking. Gardenia must have been in a meeting, but she'd answered the phone anyway, and thank Arceus, because Maylene couldn't stop herself from saying it.

"Nia…" she quietly sobbed. "I think I'm in love."

"Oh. Uh, wait a sec," Nia whispered Maylene heard a chair rasp against the ground. "If you'll excuse me, I have to make myself scarce," she spoke, louder this time. "Yes, yes, I know— It's a family emergency! Roland, you keep things running around here, I don't know how long I'll be gone. Arceus, don't be an ass. Five minutes. Ten!" As soon as a door closed, Gardenia sighed. "Yes. What happened, Maymay?"

What even had happened, in truth? What had made her have this thought, this malignance that had spread so fast it now encompassed every inch of her consciousness?

"I—I don't know, we were just… having fun and then I saw her. Really saw her. And now I just know that I love her, and it hurts, and I can't handle this." She clenched at her heart through her shirt. It was fluttering, confused as to if she should be happy or sad. "I ha—have no chance; it's utterly doomed."

Another door closed; keys jingled as Gardenia locked it shut. "Okay, now breathe, alright? I know it's hard, but you need to calm down and take a deep breath for me. Come on." The Gym Leader did so too, as if to guide Maylene through it. "Good job. Now, this is important. Did you tell her anything?"

"Wha— of course not!" She wanted to scream it out into the world, to tell her so desperately, but she wasn't going to ruin things. Maylene sniffled and wiped her eyes with her arm. "I don't think she knows."

"Can you describe the moment for me a little bit, if it isn't too hard?"

"Okay. Okay, uh, I was," a hiccup interrupted her, "She goaded me to spar with her, 'cause I think she knew I was feeling down. I held her hand before then, and I just— it was so right, but it also wasn't, so I stopped myself and kept my distance the rest of the work out." Maylene couldn't break her promise to Cecilia, especially when she'd been forgiven and they were talking again. Plus, it was just… getting in-between them wasn't something a good person would do, nor did she want to. "Anyway, the mats were wrong and I was running on auto-pilot, so I fell on top of her, and it was like the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, and she immediately worried about me, and—"

She clenched at her phone with a groan, suddenly wishing she had some tissues.

Gardenia whistled. "Oh, you fell for her harder than I thought—"

"Than you thought?!" Maylene's mouth gaped for a split-second, and she shivered. "You knew about this?"

"Maymay, of course I know. I've known since the day your dad came over and I saw you staring longingly at her and her girlfriend. At the time, I just thought it was a crush, not… all of this. I'm sorry for not telling you, I thought it'd be better if you figured it out on your own."

"I'd rather not have figured it out at all," Maylene moaned. "I probably knew, deep down. It was just easier to pretend it wasn't even there, because now it— now I know that I'm way in over my head." A short silence sunk in, and Maylene finally reined in her aura for good. "Nia?"

"Remind me again, how long were you on top of her and making eyes at her?"

Maylene pondered it for a moment, and the longer she thought about it, the more she realized it had been a long time. Ten seconds, maybe? Twenty? "Between ten and twenty seconds?"

"Shit."

"Do you think she knows?" Panic surged within her, turning her breaths shallow, and her leg anxiously bounced. She decided to stand up and pace around the room to distract herself, walking around her kitchen island. "She doesn't know, right? Right?!"

"Maybe? Let's look at this logically. She definitely didn't know until today, or she wouldn't have hung out with you and spoken to you that much when she already has a girlfriend, unless they have something like an open relationship or are poly or something, but I mean there's no way to actually know that. They haven't shown any signs of this, so let's just assume they're like an average couple."

Maylene nodded along, though she had no idea what the hell any of that meant. She was a lot more preoccupied with figuring out if she'd ruined things with Grace and Cecilia right now.

"If she knows, I'm sorry Maymay, but it's probably over? If she doesn't, you'll know because she'll probably act like nothing happened— you'd have to have to be insane to be that dense, but if she hadn't figured it out before now, then maybe it's possible." Maylene heard Gardenia tap something against her desk. "If she doesn't know, then the question is, what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what is your goal with this?" Gardenia's tone was a little stern, and she put emphasis on each word. Maylene knew why— she had known exactly what she'd meant, yet had acted like she hadn't because the question was difficult to answer. "I know what you're going through. I've been doing this song and dance with Candice for years— though she only had a one-sided crush, she wasn't actually dating anyone— the point is, if you want to give up, you'll need to take your distance. It'll be more painful in the short term, but better for your long term mental health. Think of it like ripping off a band-aid."

Even thinking about it was making her nauseous. "Do I have a choice? I mean, I have no chance— and I don't want to be a homewrecker. That's not who I am. So logically, I should…"

Yes, she should give up. Maylene needed to send Grace on her way and distance herself from her. Work would be a convenient excuse; she would probably throw herself into her Gym and work longer shifts anyway to distract herself from the pain, so it wouldn't even be a lie.

So she needed to.

She needed to…

Maylene winced, collapsed on her couch and screamed in a pillow.

"You don't want to," Gardenia guessed correctly. It was hopeless, it was meaningless, but she still couldn't give up. "It's going to hurt. It's going to feel like someone has reached into your ribcage and is crushing your heart," she warned in a grave tone. "I won't lie, the odds aren't in your favor, but if you really want to give this a go, all you can do now is act like your usual self, stay restrained no matter what you want to say or do to her, and wait for an opportunity. Play the long game like I did. Not that you have to wait for Cecilia to die, of course! That's not at all what I meant…"

"An opportunity for what?" She was genuinely asking, this time. "I don't want them to break up. They'd never be the same again and I'd feel at fault anyway."

Gardenia sighed. "Oh boy, this is complicated. Okay, then irrelevant of all of that, you've got to at least make Grace notice you as like, an option, and it has to be before she leaves. Plant a seed in her mind, so to speak."

"How do I do that? I already told Cecilia I would back off…"

Gardenia was seized by a wild coughing fit. "Excuse me?"

"I think Cecilia knew before me." Thinking back, it would explain a lot of her actions. The question was, why hadn't she gotten more angry at her? Why was she even speaking to her? The drama with her Hydreigon would have been the perfect opportunity to poison the well and make sure Grace would keep her distance. Maybe she was just that good of a person, unable to cut Maylene off in her hour of need even if she'd be able to do it with a single word. "I told her I wouldn't get too close."

"...Maymay, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?"



Euuuuuuuuugh.

This sucked. I was both physically and emotionally exhausted. My head throbbed with a nascent headache, pounding against the walls of my skull.

I checked my phone again, noticing it had been twenty minutes since Maylene had left. Part of me wanted to run off, but that was probably the worst thing to do, at the moment. Instead, I waited in the gym, looking around at the machines to distract myself from the sinking pit in my stomach.

"If she isn't back in another ten minutes, I'll try to find her," I whispered to myself. There was no way that bathroom excuse was real; she was most likely in her office or room. I crouched next to an inclined platform of gleaming metal and thick padding Maylene had called a chest press and pressed my face into my hands. "What a mess."

It'd be another six minutes until Maylene was back. I didn't dare to look her in the face, not when I knew. Instead, my eyes fixated on the ground, where her feet shuffled uncomfortably from side to side.

"Sorry I dipped for so long," Maylene muttered. "I had to call Gardenia because of work stuff."

I was too drained to try to figure out if that was a lie or not. "It's alright. I needed rest anyway because my legs still hurt."

"They're going to hurt a lot longer than this, trust me." She cleared her throat, grabbing her own wrist with a hand in a self-soothing motion to close herself off. "I probably have to get back to work; we were together longer than planned anyway and I have a lot of stuff to catch up on, so…"

Thank God. This place was so suffocating now when it had felt so liberating earlier. "Yeah. Thanks for the help."

"You okay?"

I did my best not to freeze up and forced myself to look her in the eye. "Yeah! Don't worry about me. I learned a lot today; it was great."

"I'd— I'd walk you out, but I need to clean up here first. Put the dumbbells back in place and all of that." She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced away. "I'll text you later."

"Yep. Talk to you later." I grabbed my bag as calmly as possible. "Uh, do you guys have showers here, actually? So I can wash up and change."

"Yeah, just go back down the hallway and turn immediately to the left; they should be empty," she quietly said.

I took a step forward—

If I was going to tell her no, now was the time.

It had to be now.

Do it.

I pivoted on my heel.

"Maylene?"

She stared back at me. "Hm?"

"I can't—" I can't reciprocate your feelings. I don't like you like that, I'm sorry. Say it! "—wait to do this again."

A timid smile stretched across her lips, followed by a relieved sigh. "Thanks. Me— me too."

I left and opted to go shower at a Pokemon Center instead; this place was doubly unbearable now.

Fuck me.

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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Chapter 323 - Turning Point V
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

CHAPTER 323 - TURNING POINT V

My head against the wall of the shower. The usual comfortable caress of the water against my skin felt cold, empty and void of any safety. The sound reverberated through my tiny stall, so quiet behind the ringing in my ear. The endless blare usually wasn't this loud. Noticeable, yes, but this was the loudest it had been since my eardrum had burst. It was there, constantly nagging, pestering me even if I plugged my ears. Sometimes I'd close my eyes and try to imagine today hadn't been real. If I hadn't gotten ahead of myself and not offered to spar, Maylene wouldn't have fallen on top of me. Our eyes wouldn't have crossed for so long, and I would not have seen the love take shape within her right then and there.

The problem still would have remained, yet I would have been ignorant of it. Sometimes, that was best. Maylene probably would have kept hurting, which… wouldn't have been ideal, but it wasn't as if she wasn't hurting right now, was it? Forced into what I'd realized had kind of been a date, from her point of view. That must have been why she'd been so nervous near the start and asked about how she looked.

And my actions, God, my actions. Complimenting her looks, holding her hand that long, indirectly calling her cute— and that was just today. So many of our interactions since we'd come back from saving the world had been laced with these… innocent games from my point of view, but hope from hers. Odds were I'd given that crush life when I should have smothered it from the beginning. Instead, it had been watered, cultivated, tended to, and allowed to grow unchecked; fuck me, I was dense! If I'd stopped it from the beginning, then it would have been so daunting to burst. Not so damaging to all of us.

I clenched a fist, contemplated slamming it against the wall before figuring that would be really fucking stupid. If I'd been in Maylene's position— actually, I didn't even have to shape it that way. Back in Eterna City, when Cece and I had been on the cusp of dating, I'd believed she hadn't liked me back, but it was the little ways she'd go out of her way to stay with me and her actions that kept the ball rolling in the back of my head, that told me that maybe, just maybe, I had a chance.

Though our circumstances had been different, given that I'd known her engagement to Louis had been a sham rather early. Still, how long would I have contented myself to get crumbs of her affection if it hadn't been? To bask in the occasional ray of sunlight she'd afford me before turning back to Louis every day if it had been real?

Weeks? Months? I would have given up, eventually, or at least I believed so, but not right away.

The water from the shower cutting off interrupted my train of thought— I must have gone over my allotted ten minutes. I wrapped myself in a towel and paced toward the Pokemon Center's girl's changing rooms to put on my new clothes, ignoring the glances and the murmurs from the other girls who'd been using the washrooms. Not like I could hear whatever they were saying without my hearing aid in, but I imagined they must have been surprised to see me here. Cecilia had told me about some of the speculation about our involvement in Coronet, but 'luckily' the trainer community had settled on the narrative being that we'd only been there as support in Coronet's lower levels and that Craig, Cynthia and the Elite Four had been the ones who had made the real difference.

Normally, I would have found this irritating. To have done all of this with none of the credit, when I would rather have my Role within this story ignored than misconstrued. Today, I was too preoccupied to care. Once I was changed into traveling clothes (thick pants, boots and a simple blue shirt) and had my hearing aid back in, I found myself sitting in the Pokemon Center's lobby, contemplating what to do.

I'd dressed to go to route 215 and see Bellatrix and Night, but part of me wondered if I shouldn't just text Cecilia right now and go back to the League. The awkward part was that I'd have to go back to Maylene's Gym to ask to use her Kadabra, but maybe I'd manage to avoid her and get a League Trainer to help me instead. As Cecilia had learned from communicating with Maylene, current protocol meant that only the Gym Leaders had the authority to move their Kadabra around due to their current scarcity, but I was hoping I was a common sight and that they'd just sweep it under the rug, maybe…?

"Hello?"

No.

No, that was stupid. One, it'd get that particular employee in trouble, and two, Cecilia had just gotten Scizor and Toxicroak back from the Pokemon Center. I'd do well to let her have these few hours of peace before I dropped all of this on her. Arceus, tonight was going to be miserable. My body was already shaking at the uncomfortableness that was to come. How was I supposed to tell Cecilia that I wanted to keep seeing Maylene regularly and that I didn't like her back? How would she take it, if I told her the truth? That Maylene was the only person who currently could give me pure, carefree and unadulterated happiness not weighed down by how broken we were? It hadn't been set in stone before today, but now I knew.

I couldn't.

"Are you okay? You're Grace Pastel, right?"

Could this girl take a fucking hint?

Lanky, short brown hair, doe-eyed like she hadn't had a bad day in her life, and with a Dratini coiled around her neck. That last bit gave me a pause. Those were extra rare, even in Indigo, their country of origin. Denzel had wanted one, once.

"Sorry, I'm preoccupied right now." I was short and to the point, allowing a bit of frustration to leak into my tone.

"I bet you are!" The girl laughed, petting her Dratini, who cooed back at her. "You were looking at that phone like you wanted to kill it."

"Right," I grunted. "Anyway, I'm leaving."

I shot up and made my way to the exit—

"Wait! Could I please have an autograph? My little brother's a big fan!" she asked, pulling out a badge-case from her backpack. "It'd mean a lot to him."

Groaning, I speedwalked toward her, snatched her badge-case and a marker out of her hands and signed its back. She smiled as if I'd just made her day, which was enough to get me to calm down, if only slightly. Normal. This was normal. I had fans. It just was unusual after so long.

"Sorry for bothering you! If you see Denzel, you tell him Ashley hopes he's doing okay!" she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth.

I hesitantly nodded before remembering that there'd been a girl Denzel had gambled with at the Game Corner back when it had still been open. One who had beaten the odds and gotten a Dratini. In fact, he'd told me they'd helped each other because they'd both wanted one.

Small world. He'd probably be glad to see she was doing fine after the bombings.

Now that I was free from the shackles of social interaction, Cassianus popped out of their Pokeball with the device's familiar hiss. The fact that I'd been so panicked I hadn't walked to the Pokemon Center with them spoke volumes of the gravity of the situation. What if someone had attacked me? With bleary blinks, the psychic observed the world around us. After rummaging through my bag for a moment, I handed them my straw hat. With a happy, artificial cheer, the Claydol levitated it on top of their head.

The decision had been made. I was going to see Bella. While I doubted a Pokemon as wild as her would have any advice for human relationships, we hadn't seen each other in a long time and I missed her and Night. My leg muscles were strained, but just walking shouldn't be that bad, especially after that long break in the Center.

Once we got to a more deserted street, I spoke up. "Sorry I've been silent. Something happened… something really difficult to deal with."

It is true that you appear preoccupied by something. I wanted to wait until you brought it up on your own. If you hadn't, it would have meant you did not desire to speak of it, Cass said. Clearly, they had a lot of learning to do about people, still, but they were doing their best. It is difficult to quantify emotion, but I would say you appear 68% more morose than usual. May I know what happened?

Hesitation gripped me for a moment, but what was the harm in telling them, anyway? I explained the entire situation from start to finish, including the fact that I'd had no idea of it until an hour ago.

Cass' hands rotated and hung close to their body. Ah, I see. Well, my King, your predecessors would sometimes take concubines that they would see romantically even while being married. Occasionally, you had women who all got along very well despite—

"It's not like that with her," I interrupted. "Also that's just not… I don't think I get those, anyway, but yeah, it's not like that."

Pauline, Emilia and Denzel's attempt at polyamory and it collapsing, taking Pauline and Emilia's relationship down with it was still fresh in my mind. I'd still rooted for them despite not exactly getting it, but one couldn't ignore the fact that these things were dicey and dangerous. Imagining Cece with another girl made my skin crawl with doubt. I assumed it was kind of taking a leap of faith. As I was now, would she even stick around? Especially after tonight?

Sure, I had believed Maylene to be romantically interested in Cecilia, but that hadn't bothered me because I already knew Cece just did not look at her that way at all. On the contrary, before 'figuring it out' and even after that, I'd wanted them to get closer so Cecilia would have someone else to rely on.

"Even if I was in love with Maylene, I definitely wouldn't do it. Cecilia wouldn't agree to it, and I've seen what forcing two people who don't want this leads to. There'd be three, in this case; that was a hypothetical."

Of course, Cassianus said, their eyes dimming. It was just a suggestion, you do not have to think anything of it. The vast majority of the time, this arrangement was forced on these women anyway. Some of them led miserable lives! That would be your right, of course, but—

I softly clicked my tongue. "You're thinking like these are old times again, Cass. We don't do that anymore."

The psychic hummed. My apologies. Updating memory banks.

"No worries, pal, you're still adapting to modern life." I patted their body and smiled. At least it was only my human relationships which were on fire.

Then I remembered Cecilia would have to deal with both soon and guilt tunneled into my heart. It was a claw digging through my chest, almost painful enough to make me physically react. I adjusted my collar and gulped.

The rest of the road to route 215 was largely silent, save for Cassianus asking about a few new things they saw on the way there. Perhaps they knew I didn't feel like talking, or that they wouldn't be able to offer much help, or a combination of both. Still, there was companionship in silence, and that was the kind of support I needed right now. Anyone other than Buddy would have been desperate to dig into my worries to find a solution to my issues right this instant instead of letting it simmer in my head. Honestly, I wished I could just ignore it, but it wouldn't be right. I had to be a good girlfriend to Cece.

Stepping through the gate brought back a lot of memories. It was this very moment, where I'd brought hundreds of wild Pokemon only a few hundred feet away from Veilstone, that had set me on a collision course with Maylene. Without the pride, ego and the fae ways my first stay with Bellatrix had offered, our battle might not have been anywhere as harsh. I did not fault Bella for this, for Pokemon were fundamentally different from people, and she had offered me guidance when I had been lost in the wake of Solaceon. She had allowed me to rediscover myself as a person.

Rain softly pattered against the barrier Cass had raised encompassing both me and them. They hated any form of water. Even rain proved too much for them. The deeper we stepped into the woods, the quieter things became. The world felt heavier, as if I was wading through thicker air. Bella's domain was in full effect, here. Occasionally, Pokemon would stop to look at us. A group of Burmy hanging from a tree branch to our right greeted us with a cheer, a Spinarak scuttling across the floor crawled up to me to ask if I needed directions, a Spearow asked to land on my shoulder to speak about her troubles. Here was where my title was at its strongest, but it wasn't the only reason why Pokemon were so friendly.

Bella's route was simply a lot more communal than most. Possibly more than any route in Sinnoh. Word about me had spread and basically every Pokemon here knew of me. Bellatrix had practically turned this place into another home for me, and I felt so at ease. The quiet, which I thought would be disconcerting, allowed the ringing in my ear to nearly fade. It was as if this whole thing with Maylene had just been a nightmare and the world was right again.

They remembered.

"You've never met her before but she's nice," I continued explaining to Cass. "Or, I guess she's nice if you're on her good side. Strict, but follow the rules and you'll be golden!" I raised a finger. "Just follow my lead. Since you're with me, you should be safe."

The ground type wavered in the air. Should be? May I get the odds in number, please? I would like to know how likely I am to cease existing today.

"Will be! You will be safe!" I quickly rectified. "Sorry, I worded that weird. You have nothing to worry about, Cass! She tolerates Sunshine, and you're a lot more easygoing than he is."

Ah, then I shall survive the afternoon. A cheer, dulled by the domain, emanated from their body, and multi-colored light shone out of their eyes. Anyone who can handle the Enforcer for more than twenty minutes has a tempered soul.

"I wouldn't go that far…" I muttered. "Where is she, anyway?"

It'd been forty minutes since we'd entered the route, which was twice as long as it had taken Bella to get here last time. I wasn't worried— if something had happened to her, then the effects on the route would have fallen as well. We meandered through the woods without a goal in particular, crossing into off-route territory while I recounted the many lessons the Hatterene had afforded me in the time we'd known each other. Cassianus seemed interested enough, though the more I spoke about her, the more terrified they got. If anything, it kept my mind off Maylene for the time being.

It took another twenty minutes for Nightstalker to show up. The Decidueye first announced his presence by letting sunlight peer through the canopy and wresting the rain clouds away from us. With a loud thump that left a pit in the earth, Night landed as suddenly as ever. Cassianus' hands jumped away from them and an alarm sound blared out of their body. Their hat slid in front of one of their eyes, as if that would hide them at all.

I supposed that if someone hadn't been expecting that, it would have been scary. "Relax, this is Nightstalker, the Decidueye I spoke to you about." Though their nerves were clearly frayed, they blinked and bobbed their head, slipping their hat back on.

Night's tight, leaf hood was more tattered than usual, and his gaze wasn't as piercing as I'd grown used to. His feathers weren't as well taken care of, either, as if he'd stopped grooming himself. The ghost type nudged his head at me with a deep caw that resonated through the woods, welcoming me into these Sacred Woods once more.

"Thanks." I walked up to the owl and wrapped him into a tight hug. His feathers were prickly. "Night? Everything okay?"

His gaze grew softer as he told me that everything was more than okay.

Bellatrix was expecting.



The Fae were creatures fueled by belief. With mental strength and the ability to trick themselves into believing something, the world followed along with them. In a way, they had learned to use the inherent rules of the universe and push that to their advantage further than any other type. That was why they were most familiar with domains and how they worked, though even then, trickery and subterfuge would bring them nowhere. Attempts to pierce the veil and to game this system would not bring them anywhere closer to immortality and power. Artisans of stories, they were, but just like everyone else there was a limit to how far their skills could bring them.

Nightstalker warned us, lifting one of his wings up ahead. Feathers dotted the area in front of us, sharpened like glaives and embedded in the dirt, tree bark or bushes. They glowered with a menacing purple that was unsettling to look at for too long. It was reminiscent of the Distortion World, but obviously nothing compared to that hell. It was easy to see how ghost types drew from that world now that I'd been there and back. I glanced at Cassianus, who looked half fascinated and half terrified of those feathers.

"What's that for?" I asked in their stead. "Some kind of protection for her?"

Night nodded, explaining that he'd arranged his feathers in a ring around Bellatrix. Should anyone cross the threshold without his permission, even from above, countless spirits under his authority would swarm the intruder and render them unconscious, giving him time to fly over and inspect them to see if they were an actual problem or a wild Pokemon who had made a mistake. Normally these would have been invisible to the naked eye unless you were in tune with Distortion as a concept, like Honey was, or a ghost yourself. Fortunately for us, turning it off required Night to gather the spirits back into his feathers, which gave them that nefarious purple glow and had them emanate that smoke. He'd done all of that without breaking a sweat when the perimeter he'd set was huge. Such fine control, both over TE and what must have been thousands of spirits. It was another reminder that there was a reason why he was Bella's partner. Noticing my impressed stare, Nightstalker hooted, saying that we were lucky Turtonator wasn't present, or he would have demanded a battle right this moment.

"He's not with us today, I'm afraid. He's getting healed at the Pokemon Center, as are Princess and Angel, though I'm sure you're right. It would have fired him up to fight you. I'm actually getting Princess back tomorrow."

The grass type nodded, smiling with his eyes, after which he crossed the threshold without an issue.

"Is this a good idea?" Claydol asked out loud. "Can you confirm that this is one hundred percent safe? Should you not disable it fully?"

Decidueye shrugged and explained that it would take too long to set it up again if he collapsed the entire structure.

"Come on, Cass. Night's trustworthy; if he says it's safe, then it's safe." I jumped over the boundary, and while it made me feel a little queasy, that was that. The vibration around my wrist signaled that it had woken Meltan up, and I soothed them with a pat. Outstretching my arms, I added, "come on, see? If I made it through okay, you can— actually, do you just want me to recall and release you?"

"No, of course not. I am your sworn protector, I must be able to do something like this…" Cassianus' head and arms retracted close to their body, they closed their eyes, and they rushed past the row of feathers. "I—I did it! I'm alive!"

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Of course you are, silly." When Nightstalker quietly noted Claydol's… peculiarity, I nodded. "They're a little skittish, but I mean, it's what makes them special. They've saved my life countless times from the moment I met them, and they know when to get serious. A weird side is cool, too. They used to be all computer-like and stuff."

"I can still detect your vocalizations." Cass' eyes turned to X's and they shivered in the air. "Your actions are suboptimal and not conducive to our survival in the presence of a Pokemon capable of terminating us with mere cognitive effort. Recommending the recalibration of behavior immediately."

"Well, they still do it when they're angry or they're being petty, as you can see," I confirmed.

It took us another twenty minutes to get to Bella, which was welcomed given how tired my legs were. She hadn't gone that far away from the route. Nightstalker directed us toward—

My first reaction seeing her was to gasp.

She was upright, but unconscious and looked so hollow. Her pastel pink and blue hair had dimmed as if someone had drained the life out of her. Glamour— near-transparent pink dust— swarmed everything around her, clinging to her skin, hair, the dirt, trees and even turned the droplets of rain above her pink. While Nightstalker had ended the rain around us, a tiny cloud remained above her head, pouring on her continuously. It was loud, and deafeningly so. The sound of rain hammering against nature to give her the quiet she needed to give birth to a child.

Hatterene, as a species, were all female. They did not mate with any Pokemon to lay eggs, but created one through their desire to have a child. The egg was nearly finished forming in her dress-like hair, with only the top edge remaining empty. Bringing forth a new lifeform through belief took so much out of her she was barely recognizable.

"Is— is she going to be okay?" Beauty was something that made you grow quiet when you saw it. Like stepping into a cathedral, or walking through Spear Pillar. It was something that you were scared to touch, lest you tarnish it with your impurity. She was… beautiful. "Will she survive?"

Nightstalker wrapped a comforting wing around my shoulder. If it had taken a few days longer, he explained, she might have died in exchange for her child's life. As it stood right now, however, the egg would be finished today and she would awake soon after. With her being so strong, she would be back on her feet within a few days. The reason why Night was so disheveled must have been because for a while, he must have doubted if she'd survive or not. It must have rattled him, and he'd been alone the entire time. After hugging him again and telling him how sorry I was for what he'd gone through, I took another look at Bellatrix.

This egg;

I knew this Pokemon. This was Theodora, the Hatenna Bella had given Beast before she'd left route 215. Just like her mother, it was a mixture of white, pale pink and blues. Even in this timeline, things were consistent.

So why could Maylene not be?

Decidueye leaned against a tree, crossing his arms. He too, was quiet in order not to bother his partner, but he asked me what was on my mind.

I gulped. Normally, I would have wanted to maybe speak to Bellatrix about this, but it wasn't like she'd be available. Of course, I'd stick around until the egg was finished forming and she was awake again; I wouldn't miss this for the world, but it was kind of… weird to speak to him about these issues. Sure, we were close enough to, but that had never really been the shape of our relationship.

There was a first time for everything, apparently. After laying a towel on the wet dirt, I sat down and patted the area next to me. He sat down and began to pick at his feathers, waiting patiently for me to begin. I told him everything to the best of my abilities, though I did not talk about the different timelines and merely glanced over what happened in Coronet. Nightstalker already knew I'd been given the Plume according to Bellatrix's story— that I'd been chosen to save the world from calamity, but he still found it difficult to believe that I'd been in Coronet and lived. The world being ripped apart atop Coronet, its spine and highest peak, was the reason why Bellatrix had managed to push herself far enough to have a child.

"Now I'm dreading tonight," I sighed, hugging one of Claydol's hands. They'd given one to me to hold onto for support. "I don't even know what I'll say. Why did this have to happen…"

The grass type hummed, placed a feather in my hair and asked a question. What do you think about this Maylene girl? He knew of her, though according to him, they'd never met in person because of how young she was, so it was only Cynthia that came by to negotiate sometimes. Her and her so-called horrible Garchomp or friendly Togekiss.

With my body curled inward, I closed my eyes and lay my head against my knees. "I mean, she's a good girl. She's one of my main drives to do better, because I don't want to hurt her again. She's pure-hearted. I guess that's why the thought of her liking me somewhat just repulses…" I bit my lip. That wasn't true, but using the strongest word was my feeble attempt at putting some distance between the concept that she could love me. "No, that's too harsh. It's not like I don't like her personality, or that I don't find her attractive." I wasn't blind. Maylene was extremely fit and pleasing to look at. "It just doesn't compute. Like, I don't want to taint her. And that makes it impossible for me to reciprocate what she feels. I think it'd be the same way without Cece, honestly." Even without my girlfriend in the picture, I doubted I could bring myself to love anyone else. It'd feel phony. "Maylene should just find someone who'd do right by her."

Nightstalker sagely said that the heart wanted what the heart wanted. That it wasn't anyone's fault she was into me. He followed up by warning that if I kept being so wishy-washy about this, I risked losing both Cecilia and Maylene, in which case the answer was right in front of my face.

"It is, isn't it?" I sighed, which slowly turned into a frustrated groan. "I honestly think it might just be relieving to reject her. To be done with this whole thing." Air flowed in through my clenched teeth. "Here's the thing, though. I need her."

Both Cass and Decidueye stared at each other. I raised both of my hands, and the former let out a sad beep when their turret-like hand rolled onto the floor. "Stop it. Don't go there."

Nightstalker shrugged, saying that it sounded like I wasn't helping my case.

"No. I know what it feels like when I'm newly in love with someone. I get tongue-tied, and I get nervous around them, and I blush, and I can barely look that person in the eye." Each time I listed a new element, I raised a finger. "I get butterflies in my stomach when we touch, I think about kissing them and cuddling and— anyway! It was like that with Cecilia, and it's always been like that even the two times I've had a crush in school. I have none of that with her. I just can't see her that way because— well, I told you already. It's just not my shape."

Cassianus chimed in as quietly as possible as their hand stuck back to their side. "Is she merely a friend, then?"

"No. She's… more than that." A best friend? No, Denzel was my best friend, and the vibes I had with him were completely different. "But she's also less in some ways? I mean, I know a lot less about her than I do my other friends because we haven't known each other as long, but I care a lot more about her? It's like, more intimate?" My head bumped against the tree behind me. "Is there a word for someone who's more than a typical friend but less than a girlfriend?"

Neither Pokemon knew, though Night insisted Bellatrix would know, given that she was good with words.

"Anyway, thanks for hearing me out, Night. It kind of helped putting it all into words, and it helps to have done a practice run to know what I'll say to Cece." Bellatrix would have been far less direct than he was in his questioning, but putting me on the backfoot was what I'd most likely face. "The crux of the issue is that I'm a selfish girl who wants to have her cake and eat it too."

Decidueye hooted, saying it wasn't wrong to be selfish, if you knew what it would lead to.

"Well, for now I hope I still have a girlfriend at the end of the day. That'd be nice." Shivering, I hugged myself and allowed Night to wrap me in closer. "My parents said they'd see about getting me a therapist. Maybe instead of everything else, I can discuss all of this crap. Throw one of my problems at 'em."

I got to hear all about how Nightstalker didn't understand how therapy even worked until he froze against me. All of our eyes converged toward Bellatrix, whose egg rolled out of her hair— Nightstalker cradled it in his arm, and it was only when I registered that he was somewhere else that I felt the cold wind from his movement flow across the woods. I rushed to follow him and knelt at Bella's side. The glamour slowly disappeared around her, as did the rain, but she was breathing, even if she looked like she was in pain. As he'd said, she would be fine.

Thank the Legendaries. I couldn't take any more loss.

Nightstalker stared at the egg with so much love he looked like a different person. His piercing irises were now soft and blurry at the edges, as if he was about to cry. He brought it close to his face and cooed, feeling at the outer shell with his beak as the pink dust bled away from its outer layer. Seeing him like this was honestly making me a little emotional.

"You did good." I ran a hand through Bellatrix's hair, which was as coarse as what I imagined a bale of hay would be like. I laughed at her sleeping face as my heart burst with joy. "You're going to have a daughter."

She wouldn't wake up for a while yet, but the worst had passed.

Both Bella and Theodora were going to be safe and sound.



When the Keeper of the Sacred Woods awoke, she pulled herself upward with the massive claw attached to her head. Night immediately handed me the egg— which was so light it might as well have been a helium-filled balloon— and rushed to his lover's side. It felt odd, holding her. It wasn't just that her egg felt fuzzy like cotton instead of the hard shell I'd expected. I was already attached despite not knowing this little baby because I'd seen her grow up through Beast's perspective. Strangely enough, Bellatrix hadn't struggled anywhere as much to bring Thea to life in that timeline, but from what I'd understood, me sticking around for longer and getting a larger dose of fairy TE had made her wish for a daughter really badly. Maybe that had been enough?

At first, Bella hastily chastised Nightstalker vocally for acting like she was a damsel in distress, which considering I'd never seen her actually speak, spoke volumes about how close the two were. She was bent forward as if the act of standing straight was painful for her, and her eyes, which were usually so full of starlight and a reflection of the vast firmament above us, were darkened and cloudy. Her mind must have been foggy from how much she'd imposed her beliefs upon the world and won. With a sudden panicked shriek accompanied by her lashing out with her claw, she demanded to know where her egg was. To know if she had succeeded like she'd seen in her dream.

Then Nightstalker pointed at me, and all was right in her world again. The power of love for your child truly transcended species. Just like Night, I'd never seen her look like this. So non-threatening. She nearly looked affable, if you ignored the fact that she had too many teeth for her mouth and her grin was too wide to be natural.

"Hi," I said, before realizing I no longer had to whisper. I was still cradling the egg in my arms as gently as could be. "I swung by to visit."

It seems the strings of fate knew when to make you show up, sister. Her voice was distorted and far weaker than usual, but she was still coherent. And who is this? Bellatrix eyed Cass, who I introduced to her before handing her egg back.

Nightstalker kept hovering over her, clearly terrified she'd be so weak she would accidentally drop it, but she paid him no mind.

I'm sorry, my King, but that is a horrifying creature. You lied to me, she does not look nice at all, Claydol spoke into my mind while simultaneously greeting her. "Well-met. I have heard many good things about you from my liege Grace Pastel, and they did not disappoint! You look like a very trustworthy individual, and congratulations on the new egg."

Bellatrix stared at him long and hard until inch by inch, the ground type found themselves behind me.

Containing my giggle proved impossible. "Cass… she can read minds."

"Error detected. Please disregard the previous eighteen point six seconds, Keeper of the Sacred Woods. A malfunction in my programming occurred. Initiate reset protocol." Their eyes darkened, and they fell upon the ground a lifeless doll.

"Sorry about them, they're silly!"

While Cass 'reset' themselves, Bellatrix noticed the presence upon my wrist. Oh, and this one. Such a powerful mind brought before me, she hummed curiously and brushed her claw against Mimi, who squealed in fear. I'm happy to see you've added two more members to your gathering, sister, she said with an ever-widening smile that never ended.

"And so am I for you." I eyed the egg. "Congratulations."

It took a lot from me, and I will remain weaker for a while yet, she said. Childbirth is not an easy task, for us Hatterene. What brings you here, my dear sister?

"It's nothing," I muttered, glancing at Night. "I just felt like seeing the two of you." He did not respond, yet I knew he would keep my secret.

Better not ruin the moment.

Bella stroked my hair with her claw. If you ever want to speak of it, I am here. Even through the distorted voice, I could tell how gentle she was being. I am not one to steal secrets, unless it's for the right price of course. Now, her eyes shimmered as stars began to slowly gather there again, why don't you tell me why you're looking at my child with such knowing eyes?

"I really can't hide anything from you, can I?"

We kept exchanging knowledge deep into the evening, I about Coronet and her about old stories and how she would allow her mind to slip in and out of them as needed to not grow too predictable or lost within a world of her own making that no longer represented reality, and I assured her I would come back for Theodora's hatching (and sooner than that, of course). She would need to wait until July for one last push of belief to get the child out of the egg. Should it have cracked right now, Thea might last a few hours before fizzling out in a puff of glamour as if she'd never existed.

How I already knew her daughter's name?

That, she could not pay enough for quite yet.



The dreaded hour had come. I'd recalled all of my Pokemon for this, even Meltan.

I had manage to get home by asking for a League Kadabra instead, since they were freer in the evening. Honestly, once the ones from Kanto-Johto would be there sometime this week, navigating the region and getting places would be so much easier without that bottleneck on teleporters.

I heard her coming in first, and it made me feel like my entire body was being squeezed out like a cork. My hands lay flat on our dinner table to stop them from trembling, and I took a deep breath before calling her over. It crushed me seeing her so happy knowing what I was about to do to her. She must have had a relatively good day with her team. Phone still in hand, she snaked her arms around my neck from behind, and leaned down to kiss me on the cheek as she slipped Sweetheart's Pokeball back onto the table.

Fuck.

"Is something wrong?" She must have noticed I hadn't been as into it as usual.

My heart was going to explode. I was going to die. "Hey. You should, uh, you should sit," I dryly said. "I have… news regarding Maylene." This was the right thing to do. I couldn't chicken out this time, or it would be ten times worse when she figured it out on her own and realized I'd kept hanging out with Maylene.

She hesitated, grabbing onto her arm and squeezing it tight. "I was talking to her earlier." A void formed in my stomach, and nausea took a hold of me. "She told me you had a good time. Are your legs okay?"

"Cece, this is important."

Once, she could ignore, but twice? Cecilia steeled herself with a hardening gaze that felt like a thousand pounds laid upon my shoulders, and she sat opposite of me with her legs crossed under the table.

"So it is," she declared with a defeated sigh as if she'd known this had been coming. She moved her arm subtly next to the purse she'd been carrying, and Scizor was summoned with a flash of red. "For tough conversations, I need someone to tell me if I'm slipping. I hope you understand." Scizor looked at me with a few confused blinks, but settled into his role immediately, fitting in behind Cecilia like a missing piece of the puzzle despite his clear, lasting ire toward her.

"Yeah, I get it." My words had too much power over her, after all. Each breath was tougher than the last. The effort to open my mouth, a herculean one that made sweat pour through the pores of my skin. My palm, already slick with sweat, slid against the wooden table. It was as if every instinct, every part of my body was screaming at me not to do this, but it was too late. I had jumped off the metaphorical plane, and now I could only hope I'd stick the landing. "So, um." Teeth sank into my cheek so hard I tasted metal. "Maylene likes me. She's in love with me."

The tension was so thick you would choke on the air. "Did she confess to you?" Cecilia asked with rising anger.

"No. I just figured it out because of how she kept looking at me," I quickly said. God, the last thing I wanted was for Cecilia to blame Maylene for this. She relaxed, if only slightly. "Long story short, she… looked at me in a way that only someone in love with me would. I've worked it in my mind over and over, but that's the only way this situation makes sense to me, even if I wish it wasn't real. But that's the thing, Cece. I don't— I don't see her like that."

"So? What did you say? She seemed quite unphased this evening."

I licked the blood off my inner cheek and bounced my leg against the floor. "I don't like her like that," I repeated. "But I didn't say anything."

Cece's eyes widened, but then she broke into a sad smile. "...I figured it would come to this." Her legs uncrossed, and she rose from her chair.

I shot up from my seat. "Cece, let me explain—"

She laughed. "Clearly you like her. You just don't realize it yet—"

"No! Listen to me. I am dense, I admit it. I should have figured this out sooner and done something about it, but I know my heart. I know what it's like to love someone. I feel it every day with you. If I loved her, I would have told you. I'm laying all the cards on the table, aren't I?"

Narrowing her eyes at me, Cecilia stayed there, her hand flat against the table as she contemplated leaving. Scizor hissed at her, telling her to say something, and she shook herself out of her stupor. "You're telling the truth. So then why?"

"Because I—" How I phrased this was going to be the difference between disaster and not. "Look, no matter what I say, I don't want you to change your plans to leave, okay? I need you to promise me that."

Cecilia drummed her fingers on the table, but thankfully sat back down. "That depends on what you say. I can't in good conscience agree to that."

Scizor and I shared a look, and he nodded behind her. Good enough; he would push her to leave regardless. "Right now, I don't think I am capable of not rotting away in my bed in a depressive spiral if neither of you are here for me."

"I knew it." She angrily jabbed a finger in my direction. "I knew it was worse than you wanted to show—"

"Of course, Cece! Because I have to hide it, because you'd stay if I didn't and I want what's good for you!" Both of our tones were rising, edging close to the point of no return. Desperate to find a compromise, I gripped my shirt in an attempt to calm down. "And listen, I know this is selfish of me. I know I'm kind of leading her on; I'll try to stop doing stuff that can be interpreted wrong. Maybe when you come back, I'll have gotten better and I'll be able to tell her that she should give up on me."

Another deep breath as she gathered the strength to answer and not fold with a soft, yet irritating buzz from Scizor. "Look at this situation. Really look at it. Tell me that if things were reversed, you would be completely okay with this," she demanded, her voice a low, threatening whisper.

"Honestly? Yes, though I can't know because I'm obviously not in that situation, but I thought she had something for you and I wouldn't have minded you getting closer." I meant it from the bottom of my heart, too. If I knew she needed someone else, be it Chase, Maylene or anyone, I'd let her do it so long as it didn't get beyond that. Granted, just like her, maybe I'd start doubting, and it'd nag at me until I broke. "At the end of the day, this is your decision. If you want me to tell her no, I'll tell her. I'll tough it out for the weeks that you're gone. I'll have my parents, and Denzel is waking up soon."

Cecilia looked at me;

Shook her head;

Rose again.

"Oh, no. I understand."

I blinked, incredulous. "I told you it's not like that!" Was she really going to do this? "I don't like her. It's entirely platonic from my side, at least!"

"I… acknowledge this, as I acknowledge your right to crave her presence. As I said, I understand." She turned away from me and strode toward our bedroom. I followed her, calling out her name louder and louder. "That doesn't mean that I'm not hurt by it." She opened our closet and ransacked through her clothes, shoving them in tight bundles inside the bag lying next to the bed.

"Then ask me. Ask me to never see her again, and I won't!"

"No. If I have to ask you, Grace, you will grow to resent me for it. If she can give you something I can't, then I have clearly failed somewhere along the line. I suffer for my sins. I suffer for waiting too long. It is what it is."

I scoffed, struggling to register what I'd just heard. "It is what it is? You can't just sum up this past year with an 'it is what it is' just because you like to distance yourself from things that hurt you, Cecilia. You can't."

When she did not respond, I threw everything at the wall. Everything. Said I'd do anything to keep her, said that we were leaving soon anyway and that the crush would fade, that I would rebuild myself, that I thought Maylene liked her instead, forgetting I'd already told her, that I would block her—

"No need. She shouldn't suffer because of us. The decision has been made, no matter what you do. Do me a favor and help her with her father when I'm in the wild. I will keep helping her until then; do not tell her about this, she will blame herself."

"W—what? That makes no fucking sense! You're speaking in tongues right now!"

Did she want me not to talk to her, or did she want me to help her? I couldn't wrap my head around her thought process. So then, desperate to cling to her, to understand her, I gave in to anger.

"Don't be all holier than thou, anyway. I saw it on your face when I told you!" I yelled so harshly my throat hurt. "You knew about this, and you didn't tell me anything! This isn't just on me!"

Mistake. Scizor stood in-between us, threatening me with his claws, and I nearly let my powers flare up to get him the fuck away. Nearly.

"I know," she replied, zipping up her bag. Her shoulders hunched together and she kept not wanting to look at me. "This isn't just on you. I never claimed it to be. This is what I believe is best for the both of us."

"Then talk to me—"

"I can't do that, because every time I go against you I get the urge to drop to my knees and beg for your forgiveness, and I have grown tired of it." She shrunk as soon as she realized she'd raised her voice. "This isn't even just Maylene. This is just the straw that broke the Camerupt's back. I can't take much more of this, or I'll lose myself forever. I'll just become a puppet whose only goal is to please you."

I broke down into tears. "Are you saying I'm like Abel to you?"

Just when she'd been about to give me the time of day, Scizor bumped her back with a claw. "That's not— it's not what I said. Don't put words in my mouth."

I tried. Tried, tried, tried until I was empty. Nothing ever worked. I wish I could know what she was thinking so I knew exactly what to say to get out of this unscathed without breaching her privacy. Desperately, I threw in a last ditch effort when she was nearly gone.

"Is this it, then? Are you abandoning me? After everything?" I sobbed. Snot had joined in the mix; I must have looked terrible, but it didn't matter.

It was difficult to tell with how blurry everything looked, but her gaze softened. "I—I could never do that." She held out a hand toward my cheek. It froze in mid-air, and it retreated back at her side before it could touch me. "I think it's best we… go on another break, Grace. Figure ourselves out."

"Don't do this. Don't do that thing where you take a drastic decision because it makes you feel in control, please," I begged, unable to stop the tears. "We can talk this out. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it. I'll fit into that Role." I collapsed on my knees at the entrance of our condo, unable to gather the strength to stand.

"You need this just as I do, love." She crouched at my side, grabbed my hand and placed it against her cheek after kissing it softly. "I love you, Grace. But loving you hurts, sometimes." Her tone was as unwavering as a glacier, but tears were rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, but maybe this is for the best. Even if I want to rip out my tongue for saying such words." She stood back up, opening the door. "You can stay in the condo. I'll—" she sniffled, "sleep in a Center. Talk to the others; focus on your team; I'll have Chase to help me. Again, I'm sorry."

The door slammed shut.

Yeah.

Against the floor, I stared at the ceiling.

"Did I just… get dumped?" She'd called it another break, but it felt so much more serious than that.

It was so quiet. I could only hear my heart, defeated and bleeding, against my ribcage, the blood pumping in my ears as the adrenaline slowly drained out of my body, leaving me a tired heap barely able to twitch.

My ears started to ring until they encompassed everything within the confines of my head.

Today felt like it wasn't real.

"I gotta pick up Princess tomorrow."

My voice was so vacant it was barely audible.

Maybe sticking around with my parents for a while wouldn't be so bad.

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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Chapter 324
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

CHAPTER 324

I awoke against the cold, hard floor with eyes still bleary from having slept for so long. Again, I'd been bound by incessant nightmares, but they weren't about what lurked in our reflection within Distortion, just beyond our reach. These were far more typical. This was the third time I'd gone to sleep, and the third time I had been wrecked by nightmarish visions of Cecilia. I'd see things that had not happened, like her berating me before leaving and calling me worthless, all the way to her deciding that she'd be better off without me after spending months apart and finding fulfillment with another girl in Unova.

I felt sick. My stomach roiled, yet I hadn't eaten in so long nothing but acid came up my throat. My entire body hurt from having slept on the ground for this long. I glanced at the analog clock on the wall near the turn toward the living room and saw that it was three in the afternoon. Of the next day. I'd done nothing but lay there, drifting in and out of sleep for eighteen hours straight. I'd run out of tears, having cried too much to start again, and there was no energy to be found within me.

Yet I had to stand up anyway. For my daughter. For my other Pokemon.

With a heave, I pushed myself off the ground. Clumsily, at first. Stumbling and bumping into walls as if I'd been inebriated. There was still dried drool on my chin that I slowly wiped off as my legs carried me to the bathroom. Collapsing on the toilet like a puppet whose strings had been cut off, I finally stopped holding back and allowed myself to pee.

I hated this place, I realized as I looked up at the darkened bathroom's ceiling. The circumstances we'd been given the home hadn't been ideal, but there were too many memories there. Waiting for Cecilia to come back with food nearly ready and her kissing me good evening. How we slept at night sharing each other's warmth. Cuddling on the couch under a blanket while watching TV. Looking at her work with a dumb grin on my face and watching her slowly find herself again, along with her goals. Clearly it hadn't been enough. I was nothing but a herald of misery and pain whose mere presence had clipped her wings and kept her shackled to the earth.

I flushed the toilet and slowly watched the water drain and turn clear again. Shower. I needed to wash myself next. Change my clothes. Then eat something. Drink water. Go outside and pick up Princess. A very direct and simple outlining of tasks for the day that drained me just thinking about it. It felt monumental, slightly out of reach, but I knew it was my mind playing tricks on me. It wasn't— I was going to be fine. I just needed to make it through this. I dragged my feet back to the bedroom where I'd left my Pokeballs and grabbed Buddy's. Subconsciously, I glanced toward the gouged out closet.

It was still open and nearly half empty, but some of her clothes were still in here. Immediately, I shot down using bringing them back as an excuse to see her again, but it didn't help that the idea popped up in my head in the first place. I ran a hand through the remainder of her clothes, bringing one of her few shirts' sleeve up to my face so I could smell—

Ugh.

Stop it. Just stop it. My grip on the sleeve slowly loosened until I got a hold of myself and slammed the closet shut. I needed to get out of this house.

Back in the bathroom, I spent five minutes leaning my head against the wall to mentally prepare myself for this shower, which was built into a bathtub. Lethargically, every piece of clothing on me fell to the ground. I released Buddy out of his ball, and instantly he figured something must have been wrong; my face must have looked worse than usual.

"I had a fight with Cece; I fucked up with her," I dryly explained, unwilling to spend too much time dwelling on yesterday's events. The more I spoke it into the world, the more tangible it became. Like a story taking shape. "I won't be seeing her for a while. Can you help me wash? Please?"

He answered with nothing but a nod and a pained, dimming stare, knowing to stay silent. I sat down in the bathtub, hugged my knees and waited for the heated water to wash over my skin. With a glow in his eyes, he lifted the liquid soap and washed me, ever so slowly. His mastery of Extrasensory had improved leaps and bounds. Once my hair was wet, he used the water to lift each bundle, slowly untying them as he ran shampoo through the loosened strands. He'd tell me when to close my eyes, when to open them and he was just… what I needed.

Moping was well and good, but I needed some sort of plan to get out of this rut. My teeth sank into my bottom lip to use the pain to focus, causing me to taste some shampoo of the in my mouth. Blegh. Disgusting, just like me. Both my body and mind had to catch up with what I needed already.

Maylene. I had to keep my distance from her. As Cecilia had said, it wasn't on her. It was me. It wasn't so much a punishment for her as it was something that was needed for all of our well-beings. The… argument yesterday evening had been the splash of cold water I'd needed, and while I couldn't claim I knew what the hell I was doing, this was a whole lot better than going to see her as soon as I could. That would be a betrayal. Knowing her, she would ask me to work out again next weekend, which was when she'd make time for me, but I'd find an excuse to say no. Usually, either of us would call or text, but I'd cut back on those to merely check in on her work and her father as well and disallow anything veering past the usual small talk.

My nails dug into my wet palms strongly enough to leave marks. That resolution was unfortunately hurting as much as I thought it would, but it was one I should have taken right away as soon as I'd figured Maylene out, anyway. What I'd done, putting it off, had just delayed the inevitable. Plus, Cece would be here this week and they had an actual normal friendship going, or at least it looked that way from the outside.

Okay. This was good. Better than being a lump of flesh sleeping on the floor. More painful, but better.

Once the shower ended and Buddy put conditioner in my hair, I released Honey next, whom I gave the same, short yet to the point explanation of what was going on. The electric type wrapped me into a hug which Jellicent distorted himself to join, and the tears I thought I'd run out of came out flowing again. Buddy told Honey I hadn't eaten yet, and he immediately got started on a meal. Something with eggs. Mimi came next (the Meltan found themselves at home on my shoulder, whispering metallic chimes in my ear) and then Cass, who clumsily asked how my conversation with Cecilia had gone.

Had they not despised water, Buddy might have sprayed them with some. They realized quickly enough when my eyes glanced down at the floor in defeat, though.

"After I finish eating, we're picking up Princess from the Center and I think I'm gonna go for a flight once she's all caught up," I droned emotionlessly. "Maybe stay someplace in Sunyshore for a bit, I dunno. I don't think I can stay in this condo. Come back when Sunshine and Angel are ready to be picked up."

In what I assumed was an attempt to cheer me up, Mimi jumped off my shoulder and onto the couch. Mimicking Jellicent, they split off a part of themselves you could barely call a clone and started piercing it with a needle at the end of their arm you could call a sword if you were generous. Play-fighting. With a saddened smile, I dragged them back toward my shoulder after kissing their little head. Mimi pulled at my hair, resonating with a curiosity that had their eye spin around in a lazy circle inside their golden gear. More seriously, however, Jellicent asked if I was certain this was a wise move.

"I could find a Pokemon Center here Cecilia isn't in, I know. It's not like there's just one." I rasped my knuckles against the couch, idly browsing through my phone. Nothing from her, obviously, but just having her contact information there was agonizing to see. It was like my phone was taunting me. Aside from my parents, there was only the usual daily check-in from Melody and Jasmine to see how I was doing. The former had also asked me if I wanted to give a speech about Craig during the Poketch after-party once his ceremony was done— which I answered with a resounding no. I simply wasn't capable of it. The latter was a lot of complaining about work and all the proceedings needed to get things done. "You know, maybe Pastoria or Floaroma would be better. All that open air where Sweetheart would be able to join us more often."

This time, it was Honey who chimed in from the kitchen asking about my parents while he beat some eggs. I had told them I'd think about staying with them, and according to him, if open air was what I was after, Twinleaf would be a great option, especially when I'd have my mother with me and my dad a mere flight away. Buddy nodded along, adding that perhaps my father had been right when he'd said I need something new to focus on. If it wasn't going to be training and badges, then it better have been music. I could at least give it a try.

Subconsciously, I winced at how much sense they were making. "Yeah. 'Guess you're both right. I need to focus on training again sooner rather than later," I sighed, leaning back against the couch so much my body practically sank into the pillows. That was going to be a whole lot of work. Honey yelled again, asking what I'd do about Denzel. I wanted to say he had Pauline and Emilia, that just like usual I'd hurt him unintentionally as I did others, but I ended up nodding. "Yeah… I should stick around for at least a few more days so I can stay with him. He's going to be utterly lost."

"A good king does not leave those in need, especially not in their darkest hour," Cass helpfully said before turning their attention back to the window.

Meltan demanded to see what was so interesting, so I used them as an excuse to keep moving— part of me believed they'd done so on purpose, too. There was a balcony I'd only been on once, the day we'd gotten this hotel condo. Cece would use it far more often, especially at night to see the lights.

After struggling to get it open due to how weak I still felt, I leaned against the railing, inhaling the fresh afternoon air. I wringed my hands together tightly and stared at a pair of Starly which had perched right to the side. The slightly larger bird was grooming the other, with his beak deep in the scruff of her neck as she kept letting out loving coos.

"None of that!" Cassianus yelled with glowing eyes. "Shoo! Shoo, you abominable little creatures!" The air around the two Starly vibrated enough for them to fly off, but not before hurling a few insults our way. "It appears the world itself was trying to taunt you. Luckily, I was here to intervene. I must apologize for being so slow."

I laughed silently, exhaling air out of my nose. "Cass, they're just birds. It's fine. I'm not gonna freak out every time I see two people… I mean, I don't know if they were together, but you get the gist of it."

There was a chill when Buddy followed close behind, noting that his presence most likely would have had them flee anyway. The Jellicent extended his limb, wrapping a tentacle around my shoulder. I leaned into the cold touch, squishing myself against his face as he warmed himself to mimic the temperature of human skin. My legs suddenly felt as if they could barely support my weight, and I sniffled, wiping a bit of snot off my nose with my arm.

I missed her so much. Sure, seeing the Starly hadn't made me angry, but it did mildly remind me of her, like everything else. Everywhere I looked, I saw pieces of her.

I could make it through this. Surely.

When Honey called out to us with scrambled eggs, potatoes and cheese, he'd also grabbed Mimi's scrap metal to feed them and made another meal for himself. We all ate together, and I had Buddy discover his hatred of anything egg-related. Despite not needing to eat, I'd thrown pieces of it at his head in a competition with Honey to see who could aim at its center. The ghost had recoiled, collapsing on himself like a dying star and nearly exploded all over the room. That was sheer disgust. Honey took a bit of offense until I reassured him that his eggs tasted really good. It was mindless fun, really. Playing with food like we were ten years old.

But any distraction was welcome—

A vibrating phone was something I'd learned to ignore; it was inconspicuous enough now for me to nearly forget that meant I'd gotten an alert the moment it happened. After yesterday, I was subconsciously foaming at the mouth for any word from Cece. It wasn't her, and it wouldn't be for quite a long time, but it was easy to get drunk on false hope that she would take me back. Just seeing someone else's name on my screen made me want to sob; there was something deeply wrong with me. My stomach dropped when I actually registered that Maylene was texting me.

Maylene - Heyyy

Maylene - I wanted to thank u again for hanging out with me ytd sry I was a little weird at the end

Maylene - Should have told u goodbye after ur shower.

This was exactly what I didn't want to happen, and since she'd know I'd seen her message, it'd be weird not to answer. I needed to be short and to the point with this to cut off any avenue of the conversation going somewhere I didn't want it to. Worst-case scenario, I'd use the convenient truth that I needed to pick up my daughter from the Center.

You - It's no problem. I was fine and ended up going to a Pokemon Center anyway.

Maylene - Oh, rly? I guess theyre more familiar than gym showers, I get it

Maylene - Wyd? Did you pick up Togekiss yet?

Just when I'd been about to get my out and say I was just about to leave, meaning I'd have little time to talk today, she added another text.

Maylene - It'd be cool if you came over tmr too. I know it'd be busy but work would probably zoom by when you're both here.

Both.

Both here.

Cecilia was coming over—

Maylene - You probs cant though. Thats ok, ill wait until saturday. We're still on for that, right?

Why in the world was she throwing all of this at me? I was exhausted just reading all of these—

No. She was just clueless, it wasn't her fault. Mostly, I was surprised Cecilia was already out and about, functioning and planning things with others while the simple act of going out for me felt like the most difficult thing in the world, at the moment. Something I had to mentally prepare myself for for hours before I could even take a step outside.

You - I can't come by tomorrow, sorry. I'll see about this week-end, but it might be dicey since I'll be back with my parents.

Maylene - Not even sunday? That sucks, but i understand.

I felt guilty. Why did I feel guilty? All of it was literally true— she was still typing.

Maylene - Unrelated, but even though Cecilia hasnt asked me again ive been toying around with aura in my free time to practice different shades. I was thinking if i manage different blues then other colors arent out of reach. Maybe ill figure it out before she comes back from her trip down south

Maylene - probs not but itd be good to pay her back. shed probably say its unneeded and that she just comes over for experience at leading tho

You - Im sure you will manage. You two have a great time.

You - I gotta gopick up Princess. Good luck today at work.

I had to keep my distance, especially when I wasn't in the right state of mind to see her again. These texts confirmed it, I still craved the normalcy she afforded me, especially after getting basically dumped. Something was wrong with my head. Not only that, but she'd be able to read me really easily. Hopefully she hadn't already seen through me, but if the last two weeks and yesterday had confirmed anything, it was that Maylene was as clueless as I was, so things were probably going to be okay. Stalling would work. If she knew she was in love with me, there was just no way she'd consistently act the way she did. Not only that, but there was the possibility she was as dense as the one in the Virtuous timeline was. And why not? She'd somehow fallen for me, so maybe things would remain consistent.

Not like I could do anything about it anyway, so I'd rather reassure myself with these meaningless platitudes.

I placed my phone screen down against the table, dragging it into my pocket without wanting to see it any longer. After a long exhale, I looked around at my team and spoke up. "Let's go get Princess."



It was difficult not to be anxious when I took my first step in the Pokemon Center. Silly worries of running across Cecilia swirled around my mind. They were meaningless; there was just no way she would have chosen this one when she knew my Pokemon were in here. Sure, hers were in here as well, but she'd most likely chosen one as far away from me as possible to minimize the chance of us crossing paths. Knowing her, she'd picked one closer to the port where the busiest part of the city was.

My mind wasn't very rational lately, so I'd still prepared something I'd say in my head should we meet. It wouldn't be begging to get her back, not anymore, but an apology for some of the things I'd said yesterday night and a promise to try to do better.

Maybe tell her I loved her again.

Wait. Had I forgotten to say that yesterday?

I scrounged through my memories of our fight despite how painful it was and realized I had. She had remembered, but I hadn't said anything. I hadn't… what if that had been my last opportunity to ever tell her that? Pain struck my chest, and breathing grew more and more difficult and shallow. Should I text her that? No, that would be pathetic. Would it be? Would the patheticness outweigh how terrible not telling her that I loved her too was? Maybe if I told her—

"Ms. Pastel?"

One of the Joys had come out in front carrying Princess' Pokeball in a tray, and she'd obviously noticed me breaking down in tears in public.

"I'm fine, thanks," I sobbed and grabbed the ball. At least no one was here to see me; it'd be humiliating otherwise. "Just thinking about stuff, it doesn't matter."

She placed a hand on my upper arm and squeezed. "I want you to know that our doors are always open to speak, okay? About anything. Don't hesitate." She gave me a polite smile and returned to her post with her tray.

I'd had a Nurse Joy therapist once, in Floaroma and for a few weeks online. I wondered if she was doing fine. After wiping my tears and washing my face in the bathroom, I nearly ran out of the Pokemon Center, making my way up north with Honey by my side. The electric type was luckily too excited at the prospect to see his sister again to notice I'd cried.

It was too late for regrets. I just had to keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking.

When I regained my awareness, I was at the edge of the city up north, the perfect area to meet Princess again. Honey was back into his ball, too. Sure, I'd spent the last forty minutes on autopilot or so, but at least it was easier to breathe now. Even here, at the edge of the League; the boundary between civilization and the wild, buildings were tightly packed, though most of these were empty. Houses and apartments to be rented out for the summer by the government to civilians to make up for the massive costs of running the Conference. Not only did it make them money, but the last thing they wanted was to run out of housing space. It had happened before a few years back and that had been a hassle for them to deal with.

As soon as I was out of city delimitations, I clasped tightly Princess' Pokeball in my hands. Worn down from a year's use and so much time in the wild, there were little chips in the paint. It was the same for all of my Pokeballs save for Cass' and Mimi's. Some trainers liked to keep their Pokeballs new, often swapping to more expensive models like Ultra Balls when they could afford to like my Poketch colleague Ramon. Others like Craig and I just got attached to these.

They were our first, and it was easy to get sentimental about that.

Princess's fur glimmered in the sun when I released her, and she shook herself as she slowly opened her eyes. Stretching her wings, yawning with a high-pitched whine that was still somehow soothing to my frayed nerves. Her veneer of royalty quickly disintegrated when she noticed I was here and she wasn't in the Center again. Her eyes widened, disbelieving, and tears accumulated in the corner of her eyes. I crouched with my arms wide open and the largest smile I could muster—

"Ack!"

She tackled me back with an elated squeal, saying 'mother' over and over again. I was pretty sure she'd bruised my ribs, though I was too happy to care. I stroked the back of her head as she snuggled against my skin and told me how much she missed me.

"Oh, my little Princess," I gushed as I put my hands around her. "I missed you so, so much."

Needless to say, we stayed like this for a while. The spoiled little baby complained about her treatment from the nurses, not because they'd actually been abusive or hurtful in any manner, but because this was the longest she'd gone without seeing me and she had demanded to be let out early. I, the clear paragon of stability that I was, softly told her that they were just doing their jobs and making sure she was safe from any long-term effects of Glalie's ice. The ice type had done a number on her while she'd bought time for us to deal with the rest of Saturn's team, and he'd used Regice's power.

But then, Princess asked what she'd missed, and that meant starting from Coronet after Saturn. If I wanted to do the story justice; if I wanted to tell her everything, I'd need a lot more time and a better setting than this—

No. No, she deserved to know, and now. I slowly explained it all to her, telling my daughter the story in full— that included skimming over the Distortion World. As much as it pained to say, I'd rather have nightmares about Cecilia leaving me for someone else than have to relive through that nearly every single night. The mere act of describing it filled me with a sense of impending dread that had me breaking into a cold sweat by the end.

That meant I needed a break. And a break meant Princess seeing her family again.

I released the rest of the team, and the welcome backs were as warm as I'd expected them to be. Sweetheart clammored for her older sister, though I had to warn her about her strength so she didn't accidentally crush the Togekiss under her suffocating hug. Honey started with a teasing welcome: a jolt of electricity as soon as they touched. That made her throw a bunch of mud on his face that Cass helpfully cleaned off with their own Ancient Power, garnering some of Princess' ire until the playful tension broke. With a huff, she declared she couldn't stay disappointed in her faithful student for that long. Even Buddy joined in the pranks, getting the side of her wing a little wet with a spray of cold water. Electivire cackled, a finger pointed at her until she threatened to lovingly end his bloodline.

All jokes, of course. They loved each other. In fact, he teased back that he had no bloodline, mimicking her haughty tone in a mocking manner.

I tapped Mimi awake, and the steel type made a gurgling, metallic scream at the sight of Princess. Sure, they had missed her, but the first thing they did was demand to ride her for a flight to see more of the world. Sweetheart jealously grabbed them and said she'd be a better sister until both her and Princess started bickering about who'd take better care of Mimi. They'd kind of inserted themselves as the team's baby, though I knew they mostly did it to be spoiled.

Jellicent struck from nowhere, saying that if Princess wanted to play at being mother she'd do well to eat her veggies without whining for thirty minutes straight.

Yeah. I'd let them hang out together a little before our flight.



I held myself steady on top of Princess, who slowly floated up without so much as a single motion of her wings. Then came a small wobble, as if she was no longer used to flying. Before I could even speak, she haughtily said things were fine; she just needed to shake the rust off. She had, after all, spent a long time held still in a Pokemon Center between the care of the nurses and her Pokeball. My fingers ran over her head, gently stroking her fur as she got more and more comfortable with hovering in the air.

"Getting the hang of it now?" I smiled at her even though she couldn't see. Princess nodded, landing again softly against the ground. "Ready?"

Her wings shivered in excitement. She turned her neck slightly to her left, side-eyeing me before telling me to brace myself. I gripped at the saddle and patted her back one more time.

She pushed herself up so fast that my innards felt like they were being squished down. Within seconds, we were high in the sky above the League. The world fell beneath us, now rendered small and insignificant in the face of the greatness that was the freedom afforded through flight. For a moment, my body felt alive. That tiny jolt of fear at the fact that you weren't made to be up here before your brain adapted and remembered you were safe. Each breath was cold and dry. Reinvigorating. My hair which I'd forgotten to tie up whipped around my face, and the wind clapped in my ears. It was so intimate, the way it surrounded your very being as if you were at its mercy. Princess laughed, climbing ever higher until we were past the ring of League patrols making sure the skies were clear, until the air grew thin and the orange evening sky seemed close enough to touch. Princess flew right below a cloud, allowing me to raise my hand to run it through. It was cold and wet and humid and I could barely feel my fingers by the end of it, yet I was grinning either way. My daughter zoomed past the Lily of the Valley Island, reaching the ocean. Neither of us knew where we were going— I did not know if this was north, south, east or west. This freedom; my ankles unchained from the human worries in the world below; the burdens of life gone with the snap of a finger. It was liberating, it was salvation; flight was magic. Enough to bring me to the point of tears that froze before they could fall off my face.

It did not last.

The human mind could adapt to much. Exhilaration at flying was one of those things. It was nearly gone by the time we reached another coast— somewhere north of Veilstone, if I had to guess from the rocky, grey shores and how Coronet stretched even higher than we were far in the distance, turned into a vague blue by the atmosphere's hue. I remained far happier than I'd been hours ago, steady enough within to face the rest of the day, but the realization that my problems were so small and yet had still hit me like a truck was a lot. The reframing of issues was a helpful beat. The world was beautiful enough to take joy in the small things, the world was saved and nearly all the people I loved alive. It could have been so much worse.

But when I landed, I would still be poison to Cecilia's mind. I would still remain a tool awaiting a purpose or another story to insert myself into. I would still remain embroiled in whatever the hell was happening with Maylene. I would still need to try to learn to enjoy the little things in life, as Jasmine had told me. Flying was a good start with that one, but it was the first step of many.

Still;

"The sunset's beautiful…" I muttered, my voice inaudible due to the wind and the deafness in my ear.

It was a masterpiece of colors not unlike what I'd sometimes see with my empathy. As the sun dipped behind the western slopes of Coronet, the towering peak stood silhouetted against a canvas of vibrant hues— fiery oranges and deep purples blending seamlessly with soft pinks and golds. Wisps of clouds caught the light, glowing and bending the light across the horizon. In just a few minutes, darkness would be cast across this side of Coronet.

I leaned close to Princess, telling her to turn back toward a route. The last thing I wanted was to land off-route without my entire family there to defend me, and even then, it'd be best to avoid it entirely when unnecessary. It took me a few minutes to orient myself and figure out where exactly we'd ended up. Somewhere south of Veilstone. That smooth concrete road running down south was unmistakable.

It was, however, a route that held too many memories for me. The difference between this and the two Starly was that this path echoed with the past. So many times, we'd come here to train and share moments together, and I didn't want it sullied with the current and hopefully temporary state of affairs between us. After settling on the route to Sunyshore, Princess landed on the beach with tired breaths. She'd really pushed herself, for a Pokemon right out of the Center. My legs swung over her, and I hopped on the sandy ground.

It still felt like I was moving, so it proved somewhat difficult to keep my balance. Like getting off a boat after a long ride.

"Thank you, Princess. You were flawless in the sky, as always," I cupped her chin and scratched it, and she said she'd do even better on the way back to make me happy. "Oh, you sweet little thing." My arms wrapped around her as best I could. "My baby's back. Of course, I'm happy."

She nuzzled her face in my chest and we watched the ocean for a good while. The waves crashing against the darkening beach. I used the opportunity to further catch her up on what had been going on lately, this time focusing on the post-Galactic events. Of course, she already knew a bunch of things, but most were disjointed things I'd just blurted out, like being on break with Cece or Craig dying. There was no point if it wasn't told to her properly.

Eventually, one would run out of words. When that happened, we sat in silence for a while against each other in total darkness save for the bright red flames Princess had dancing around us. It was as if we were on an island of light and we were the only two people in the entire world. Us on a beach. Maybe if I had the rest of my Pokemon with me, it wouldn't be so bad. I hurt everything I touched, anyway—

I noticed how Princess was looking at me, wings tightly wound and eyes shadowed with worry.

No. There would be no catastrophizing nor spiraling tonight. An idea to improve the mood sprang in my mind. I patted the top of her head, lulling her into a false sense of security until I sprinkled sand on top of her head—

Sand below my feet jumped at me as if it had a mind of its own. "Wha— puh!" Some of it had even gotten in my mouth! That little— "You're in big trouble, young lady!" I dug my fingers into the shallow beach and threw sand at her too, but it seemingly slipped off her fur as if she was meant to stay pure. "That's so unfair!" I groaned. She threw another ball of sand at me, which I blocked with my hand, but it hit my wrist, meaning Mimi, who dissolved into goop before reforming on the floor.

Princess laughed with a wing in front of her mouth, saying I'd been the one to start it as soon as the steel type complained. Princess followed up by calling Mimi to her side, and they wobbled over—

"Mimi!" I gasped at the sheer treason. "You sleep on my wrist or neck all day and this is what I get?!"

They shrugged and jumped into Princess' fur, burying themselves under it. Like it was a giant blanket that, I had to admit, looked comfortable.

I, however, had a trick up my sleeve.

With a motion of my hand faster than I thought it'd ever be, the rest of my team appeared around me. They were confused, at first, and Honey's subtle glow along with Cass' shining eyes was welcome this late at night. Princess blinked, calling me an unfair traitor. She knew what was coming.

"Guys, I think Princess needs to be knocked down a peg. Cover her body in sand!"

Somehow, the game might have devolved into a free for all that reshaped the landscape. Honey, traitor that he was, joined in with his little sister to fight Sweetheart and I. Cass was with me, of course, and they stopped me from being seriously hurt at least ten times that night. Buddy had been forced to join the other side due to ours having two Pokemon so good with ground TE, and he got surprisingly into it, even if he started to rule lawyer us when they began to lose.

The point was that there were no rules!

I was certain I'd heard Mesprit giggle in the back of my mind at some point, too. I wished they could have joined us, but I'd go visit them when I went to my mom's. I knew they were staying quiet right now in order not to… wound me with their words, which could sometimes be ruthless.

The game might have also gotten a pair of rangers to check us out due to a noise complaint.

Sweetheart was really loud. They must have been really confused when they came up to a team of Pokemon covered in sand.



If there was one thing to be said about heartbreaks, it was that while one day could slowly ramp up and end fine, the next could be the opposite. Today had started out well, with me keeping busy by spending time with my team. Hell, I'd even gotten over the desperate urge to leave this place and put on a couple of my old battles on the television for my Pokemon and I to look at and reminisce. Arceus, my eyes were so innocent, especially before Solaceon; before the world had wounded me irreparably and launched me down this path. Of course, I skipped over Maylene's battle, much to Princess' displeasure. It was easy to pick out mistakes now despite my older self thinking this was as close to perfect as I could get at the time. I was too tired and lazy to actually vocalize these flaws, so I let my Pokemon do the work. Most efforts were led by Princess, who kept screaming at herself in the TV every time she fumbled something. Even Sweetheart got to watch, though we'd needed to put her on a giant stack of pillows and blankets and she needed to not move off from there, lest she make a hole in the ground or something and fall through.

But then, once I decided to pick up a snack, I saw this random pineapple candy in the pantry and my mood cratered in an instant. 'Cecilia loves pineapple' turned into memory of her eating that candy, and that led into her smiling at the taste of the candy—

The energy evaporated from my body like water poured onto Sunshine's shell, and I decided that was the end of everything that day. I allowed my Pokemon to stay out so long as Buddy watched Sweetheart so she behaved, but my words at that point were more of an incoherent whisper. I called for Princess before collapsing on our— my bed. Cece's side of the bed. It still smelled like her. Breathing through the fabric was difficult, but it wasn't like I felt like moving. I felt another weight on the mattress; Princess snuggled in close to me and said she'd warded off the others for now, but that they were worried. They thought I'd been improving.

"Let's just stay in bed and do nothing all day," I mumbled through the mattress, ignoring her.

She asked me about eating, about getting some sun by going on a flight, and about a million other things that went in one ear and out the other. If I didn't do anything, look at anything, remember anything, then maybe I'd stop reminiscing about her.

"I'm sorry; I'll try to do better tomorrow."

She let out an annoyed huff, but recognized that was the end of that. My arms wrapped around her, dragging her closer until there was no space left between us.

We stayed like this for… I didn't remember how long as I clinged to my couple's ring we'd gotten in Sunyshore. Sweat eventually soaked into the bedsheets because of how tightly bundled I was, but my body wouldn't move. Time passed so quickly, when you did nothing. Rotting in bed barely even helped me not think about Cecilia, given that I kept thinking about how today was going with Maylene. I had turned off my phone so I wouldn't see any texts from her or anyone else. My good times were unfortunately interrupted by the doorbell; who the hell was even here?

No energy to go check.

"Can you tell your siblings not to open the door? Thanks—"

The bell rang again at least ten times in quick succession, causing me to cover my head with a pillow. Princess floated away from the bedroom, and around a minute later I heard the door open— Arceus fucking damn it.

Guess I'd have to face the music.

I dragged myself up on the bed, nearly breaking down at how difficult it was to even do that. The funny thing about breaking down is that it could come in the form of crying laughter, which meant that when a particular redhead showed herself in the room, I was sob-laughing with my face in my hands.

"Oh. Uh, awkward? Legendaries, it's dark in here." Pauline walked up to the bed, wrinkling her nose. "Have you opened a window— you know what, nevermind," she sighed, sitting down at the foot of the bed. "Grace. Cecilia told me about what happened this morning."

She had? That must have been after I turned my phone off, unless it wasn't in the group chat. Actually, that made a lot more sense; there was no way she was going to text a group chat I was in. Did they have one without me?

"What's up?" I got a good look at her. She usually never let her hair get this long, but it was tied up in a messy updo with loose strands she could still twirl around her finger. "Where's Emilia?"

Her twirling finger slowed. "She was with Cecilia for a while, but your gal had to leave for Veilstone to help the Gym Leader with some stuff, like you both usually do. Kind of wild to me considering your history, but you do you."

"Did she tell you… why?" I asked.

"Why you're on break? Codependency stuff again, isn't it?" She scooted a little closer, allowing me to see the wide open door. Mimi crawled into the bedroom until something wrested them away, leaving tiny sparks behind them, and Cass' massive head poked out of the doorframe. Meanwhile, I could hear Sweetheart in the living room asking what we were saying. They were all horrible at spying. "She wouldn't go into much detail— God, you don't have to look so relieved at that!" Pauline flicked my forehead.

I covered my forehead with both hands. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"For not keeping up with me, gremlin." There was a sudden fondness within me at the old nickname. "You're in a sorry state right now, so yours truly will forgive you. Having to deal with the aftermath of Coronet and now this, but this is a one time deal."

"Ugh. Fine, sorry for not speaking much outside of hospital visits. Happy?"

"Words you don't mean are better than nothing. I won't get on your ass over it; I know things difficult and that you're trying, okay?" She touched my wrist and squeezed. "I guess it's hard seeing people turn away from me when… well, I've never been the best at helping. I kind of mess up everything, but I still want to try, you know? They don't say 'do your best' for no reason."

I watched her silently, then nodded.

"Not the talkative sort today, hm? I get it." She had a purse with her that she opened on her lap. "I bought you a bunch of tea; I don't really know which ones you like, so I kind of filled my bag with them." She pulled a package out, the rustling of the paper filling the quiet space between us. "This one's chamomile; I thought it might help you relax if you're anxious. Or that's what the clerk said," she nervously laughed.

"Oh. Tea actually sounds really nice right now…" I whispered. "Could you…?"

Pauline pointed at herself with widening eyes. "Me? Grace, you know I can't handle kitchens for shit."

It was true that she'd never handled any of the food-related duties on the road when we'd traveled together. Frowning, I replied, "I mean, I won't get on your case because you bought these for me and it's a huge favor, but it's literally just heating up water."

"I'd mess it up somehow. I have people for that; even mommy doesn't know how to make anything, so I never learned."

"Just give it to Honey. Thanks a lot, by the way." Already, I was finding it easier to speak a smidge louder.

"No prob!" She grinned, and when she walked out the door, Honey had to awkwardly act like he'd just been passing by. It looked like the others had thrown him under the bus. "Do you want to vent to me? I don't think I'd have great advice, but I'm a good listener these days. Some might say I'm the best," she joked. This time, Pauline was leaning against the massive closet with her arms crossed.

I wasn't willing to tell her everything. One, it was mighty embarrassing and I'd probably cry again, and two, I wasn't sure Cecilia would be okay with that. "I guess… this might sound a little harsh."

"Shoot. I'm a big girl, I can take it." She brought up her arm and flexed as a joke.

"So I mean, how did you handle…" I gestured weirdly at her. "Everything collapsing under your feet with Emilia and Denzel."

"Ahh." She glanced up at the ceiling with a misty-eyed look. "I mean, there was never a big fight like you both had. It kind of just fizzled out without anyone having a talk about it, but it wasn't like we had much time for that stuff," she said with a heavy breath. "I was kind of in denial about it, hoping we could fix it when Team Galactic was over, but I guess not."

"Did you try?" I asked.

"I mean, Denzel's asleep, but even if he wasn't it's not like it'd work. You don't try something that failed again without changing anything, and really neither of them were really that into it. They tried, especially in Sunyshore and when we traveled to Pastoria, but nothing ever sparked. They're good friends— really good friends before Pastoria— but that wasn't enough. Even ignoring how Denzel and I fucked up at various times and the pressures of Galactic, the relationship probably would have limped along and dissolved eventually." Again, she started twirling a strand of hair around her finger. The closet doors creaked behind her. "I spoke to her recently about if we could try again, just the two of us, if I spoke to Denzel when he woke up and told him about it, but nah. Doesn't look like it's in the cards."

"Doesn't that— doesn't that crush you?" How was she even here talking to me right now? How was she not staying in bed all day, crying her heart out?

She leaned forward, the pain now obvious in her eyes. "Of course, it does. I fucked up something great with the greatest girl and guy I know because I couldn't choose and I tried to stick them together as if that'd fix everything." She shrugged. "Life goes on, at the end of the day. It's time to grow up." Pauline jutted a hand forward. "Not that I'm minimizing your problems. It's just, like… sorry, I'm still rash with words."

Somehow, this had ended up with her talking instead of me, but it was helping somewhat. Come to think of it, she'd denied Denzel at some point when he confessed and they'd kept being friends. What made me think Maylene wouldn't?

Right. Denzel was often just the gold standard of a human being, meaning he needed no time away like Louis did. Meanwhile I'd been plagued by fear, indecisiveness, possessiveness, terrified that she would leave me. Yet I felt like if I was in the same position with Maylene on top of me today, I'd talk to her about it right away. Unfortunately, time only went in one direction for us mortals, and now I was stuck in this rut. After Cecilia came back from her trip, I would tell Maylene. This way, the Gym Leader would have her to fall back on in case it hurt her more than I thought.

I… had to.

"Wow, I guess I struck a nerve. My bad," Pauline apologized.

"No, no," I said. "Go on."

The tea kettle whistled in the distance. "Okay," she softly said. "This is gonna sound really corny, and I'm not usually one for cringe bullshit, but hear me out." She waited for a signal, so I nodded in response. "No matter what we end up as in the future when we're adults— Close friends, normal friends or heavens forbid, acquaintances who see each other like once a year, ugh." She sneered, shaking her head to chase those thoughts. "What we shared with each other, the batshit crazy experiences we went through, ill or good?" Pauline looked down at her hand and clenched it into a fist. "Those will be ours. You know when you just get someone in a way that's like knowing the back of your hand? You don't have to be dating to share that. Not that I'm saying your relationship is toast like mine!"

"I know, I know." Sighing, I looked at Honey slowly trudging into the room and straightened my back. The electric type handed me the teacup, warning about the heat. "Thanks, kiddo." He left quickly after that, even though no one had asked him to. I blew on the tea, inhaling its comfortable aroma and continued. "What you said." Pauline and I locked eyes. "I get that. I get that very well. The problem is… I guess you could say we did too much together and I got addicted."

"I thought it was cute, looking from the outside," Pauline said. "But I mean, Emilia and I spent all the time together and she was so dependent on me. To dependent to speak up for herself, to talk to her parents, to even go outside in crowds sometimes. But then, she left and found her own way, right? Contests, content creation, hell, she investigated corruption in the industry on her own! That's her most viewed video! I watched it a million times." The redhead grinned. There was no denying it, she still loved her, but she was strong enough to attempt to move on. "See where I'm getting at?"

"I know Cecilia was right," I mumbled under my breath. "I just don't know how she's so strong and already out and about. Doing things."

"You were out yesterday, weren't you? You were spotted next to Sunyshore; we all heard about it."

"Damn it. I can't do anything without people going crazy these days," I complained after clicking my tongue. "And I did nothing all of today. She's already moving on…"

"And according to her, she did nothing yesterday but stay in a dark musty Pokemon Center room, and if it hadn't been for her Pokemon, she would have come back—" Pauline sucked in air through her teeth. "Wasn't supposed to say that. But don't do all of this morose 'she's better off without me' bs." Pauline waved a hand dismissively. "You just gotta learn how to function without each other."

"Right." I sipped on my tea and nearly burned my tongue. "I'm trying. It's just… hard. I look at everything around here and it all reminds me of her. I can't even go five minutes before she pops up in my head again and I get depressed. At least today. Like, the reason I was doing nothing in bed was because I saw this pineapple candy she loves. I mean, she loves pineapple in general, but she really likes that candy; it's a Unovan brand."

Pauline scoffed. "Pineapple? She likes feeling her tongue get shredded by acid? Arceus, what a weirdo."

I placed a hand over my mouth to snort. "I know right?"

Once Pauline realized the conversation slowed, she smirked. "So, uh, wanna play cards?" She pulled out a pack from her bag. "We could gamble some money over whatever game. Sounds fun, doesn't it?"

"I'll be honest, I'm not feeling it, but we might as well try, I guess. Without the gambling, because I'm not exactly financially secure." I had no idea what would happen with Poketch if I didn't make it to the Conference, so I needed to save every penny. Sure, I had signed a contract, but realistically if they went against me, they'd just be able to outlast me with an army of lawyers at their beck and call. I wouldn't even have Mel anymore.

After settling on Crazy Eights, Pauline continued talking about her own experiences in a bid to help me with mine. Along the way, it sort of turned into a venting session for the both of us.

"You know, like five months ago I'd daydream about traveling with Denzel and Emi, just the three of us for a whole year," she said with a saddened look as she browsed her cards. "I figured Hoenn would be a good pick. Birthplace of Pokemon Contests, the biggest scene and all of that." She placed an eight of hearts above a two of hearts. "Dreams are dreams, though."

"What are you gonna do now, then?" I drew from the pile; I'd gotten seriously unlucky when she only had three left. "Another Circuit next year? You can get to eight badges, I'm sure of it. You're a little simple as a fighter outside of your Gothitelle, so you'd have to change that if you want your eighth, but you'd have a whole year to figure it out."

"I dunno, I'd have to think about it. Consult my team and the like," she said with a shrug. "These days… what do I even do? Meditate, train, yell at Denzel's parents so they let us visit, but like, what comes after that, when we're all out of here?"

I frowned. "You like battling, don't you?"

"Oh, I love it," she grinned. "And the way it makes me feel. But it's like, a hobby. It's not what I'm gonna be doing the rest of my life, you know? My mother's been trying to get me to handle the Sandgem branch of the company. Small, low stakes, easy to rack up experience. I'm thinking I take the offer."

My heart sank. "But why?"

"I mean, it's like Louis playing volleyball in school, right? He loved it, but he didn't make it his job. I gotta get ready for real life and stuff. Mommy's getting old; she wants to retire and enjoy life. If I can rack up a few years of experience, I'll be able to take over. Fashion's always been my number one passion." She scratched her cheek. "You gonna play?"

Oh. I had forgotten to keep drawing. It took three more cards to be able to play an eight of spades, to which Pauline made a little cheer. "I guess… I don't get it?" Even in this state, with all my motivation gone, I couldn't imagine putting battling out of my life forever. I was hoping, deep down, that I'd get my passion back sooner rather than later, and I had even planned to go attempt to train later today before getting hit by depression. "I thought you'd be at it for a few years. Attempt the Conference at least once to get the full trainer experience."

"I thought so too," she spoke with a saddened smile. "Turns out most of the fun came from traveling with you people, but what else is left? Denzel's going to be in chronic pain when he wakes up and probably won't be able to do any of this shit for months, and even then it'd be weird between us; Emilia's going to refocus on herself and set up camp in Hearthome soon; Justin is dead; Maeve's an entirely different person and seemingly wants nothing to do with us; I don't even know Mira's deal; Chase and I would kill each other and he can't walk anymore; you and Cecilia are leaving… you are leaving, right? Even if you aren't back together by the end of the summer?"

I gave it some thought for a few moments as Pauline slammed an ace of spades on the card pile with an exaggerated hoot, as if this game wasn't pure luck, anyway. Always so extra, this one. "I am, yeah. I have a calling there," I said, thinking of that mysterious Pokemon whisperer. Even then, doing good would help. Looking back, the emotional turmoil Swoobat had warned me about was obvious now. "And you know, I have Poketch obligations."

"True enough."

"Gotta sell those damn phones," I chuckled. "And laptops. And watches. And everything else."

Needless to say Pauline won the card game. She stuck around for another few hours before she had to head back and feed her team. Maybe she'd go and battle some League Trainers if she had time as well; apparently they were allowed to battle to train. Part of those lax rules was why Sinnoh's armed forces were known to go for a quality over quantity approach, at least according to her. There was so much experience I could soak up here—

Oh. Nevermind. I was probably better at killing anything than any of them.

"What are you saying?" I quietly chastised myself. "You won't need to kill anything anymore. Probably."

And finally, at the grand hour of six in the evening, just when I gathered the energy to stand up and shower with Buddy's help, someone else rang the doorbell. At first, I thought Pauline had forgotten something, but as it turned out, Emilia had come to visit, now. There was a spring in her step that had been missing in everyone else, and she carried herself like she had a good head on her shoulders. Her nose piercing glinted under the lights Honey had turned on, and she smiled at me. It was like I was looking at a well-put together adult instead of… well, a kid who had no idea what would come next.

She wrapped me in a tight hug. "Ooh, you might need to shower. I heard the bad news from Cecilia; I'm sorry."

"Where's Pauline? Did— did you two coordinate this?! Is this an intervention?"

"Come on, we aren't tied at the hip, you know? I didn't even know she was supposed to come here, I thought she'd either be at Denzel's or down in the city with her team fighting some League Trainers on break like usual."

Damn. She was right on the money.

"I just came to check in on you." She looked around the apartment, greeting my Pokemon one by one, though she had a confused look when she saw a dent next to the couch.

"That's Sweetheart— she had an accident with her tail, so I had to recall her. The League will fix it."

"Oh, Legendaries. You have her out indoors?" She laughed, cackling so hard she complained her stomach hurt. "I'm sorry, I know you need them to help you, Grace; it's just so you."

I shuffled in place, a little ashamed of myself. "Don't make fun of me."

"I won't, don't worry. It just took me off-guard, you know? Do you want to sit?"

I squinted at her suspiciously before nodding. "Are you here for advice?"

"I am; I guess Pauline got here first, though. I was busy today helping Louis with some extra stuff for the funeral. You know how I used to plan parties?" Emilia stepped around the couch, smirking at the dent in the floor. "You're gonna have to stop this kind of stuff in Unova, you know that, right?" she gently warned. "No more League to bail you out. You'd actually need to pay for damages and it'd have a seriously bad effect on your image." She sat down, hands below her so her dress wouldn't crease or bend.

"I know, I know." God, if the League hadn't had my back all these months I'd be in prison for life at this point. I plopped myself down the couch, fidgeting nervously with my fingers. "So?"

"So." Emi cleared her throat. "I've been made aware of…" she vaguely gestured at me. "Your situation in detail."

"In detail?" She'd told Emilia everything, but not Pauline?

"Well, as it stands, Cecilia believes she is in a similar position I was in, though she says you're not actually in love? It's strange, because to me it sounds like love in everything but in name and I do think if it is, you should tell Cecilia right away, but hey, I'm not in your head. I'll believe you."

I exhaled in relief and stopped gripping the edges of the couch. If I needed to explain this for a millionth time this was platonic, I was going to blow up. "Any words of advice? I know the best I can do is to hunker down and try to be better. How did you do it? You were so dependent on Pauline."

She closed her eyes, recalling the past with a melancholic look. "Yes. Yes, I was. But not anything as bad as this, with the high stakes you both went through and whatnot. I'm not qualified for this, but here's what I told Cecilia: you have to have a life outside of your partner!" Emi was talking more akin to a teacher than anything else. "Look, before Contests and I made new friends and acquaintances, it was all Pauline, Pauline, Pauline. The thing is, it's tough with all of us because we're all so… tightly knit, right? We all know each other and all spend time together all the time, even now, like a monstrous amalgamation of trauma unable to separate. Honestly, we're all kind of co-dependent on each other. We could use a little more time apart."

"Hmhm." That was true enough.

The Coordinator held out a finger. "Hobbies. You've got battling, training and watching battles et cetera, but you used to do all of that together, even if you added in some people sometimes." Then, a second one. "With piano, she was the one who taught you how to play, and now that you do know, you don't really do it anymore because you're so focused on her." Finally, a third finger. "Pokemon rights? That's yours." She pointed at my heart. "You were actually starting to know people outside of our circle in Pastoria when you volunteered. It's too bad that… well, you know, the raid happened."

I brought my legs up on the couch and hugged my knees. "You sure got wise."

She flicked her chestnut hair back like Pauline used to do. "Well, I'm no flawless girl; this is just my input on things. I know putting it in action is a lot harder than acknowledging the problem. Which you've now both done, so great!" Emi clapped her hands together. "That's the first step to any issue."

Her optimism was honestly a little infectious; it was difficult not to feel slightly invigorated. "My dad kind of had the same idea before we even took that break. I was going to take him up on it." That was partly to avoid Maylene, but I was basically fully on board, now. "Piano lessons, meeting new people and such. Maybe I can make summer friends who have nothing to do with Pokemon. If I remember how to be normal."

What would Cecilia do? Reconnecting with her team was a must, of course, but after that? A cold dread crept up my skin when I realized this was going to take a whole lot longer than our first break after the raid.

"I actually tried to do more Pokemon Rights stuff recently, which intrigued me too," I said, thinking of my meeting with Mallory and Rood. "It was before the fight, but I kind of messed it up."

She snapped her finger, leaned against her palm and grinned at me. "See? You're already doing well, it's just about the little steps."

"I just have to keep walking," I echoed. This time, it was more positive than anything. "Thanks."

Emilia scooted her way next to me, wrapping a hand around my waist in a side-hug. "I know this is tough, okay? But you have to realize this, Grace. Cecilia sees you as her entire universe. You came out of nowhere and offered her a hand when we were either too scared to act, ignorant children or in on our parents' schemes. You pulled her out of a dark place, showed her hope, and essentially became the only person or thing who made her truly happy. For nearly nine months straight. It got even worse after this ghost TE stuff. Honestly, I know this hurts to hear, but it was only a matter of time until something gave."

I would not have said anything if Cecilia hadn't, but Emilia was probably right. While Cece had been worried about losing herself to me, another moment would have made her take the leap.

"Both you and Pauline have been a great help today. I hope all of this works to get me out of bed."

"Well, you're out of bed speaking to me right now, right?" Emilia squeezed my shoulder before letting go. "Here, why don't you take your shower, I'll change your bedsheets and clean around a little bit."

"Sure. Cass can help you."

Emi stared at the looming construct behind us. They were currently harassing Jellicent about his book. Not about the contents, but about what kind of paper it was made of. "Hm. Haven't spoken with them much, but I'll make do," she said.

And hey, I'd even try to shower on my own today.

Not that I told her that out loud. There was a limit to how low I'd let myself look in front of my friends. I reflected on the day as I showered, feeling slightly guilty at the fact that both Pauline and Emilia had immediately come to help me while I'd kept contact to a relative minimum. They were both too good for me—

A knock on the bathroom door made me realize that so much time had passed in an instant. I'd been in the shower, soaking in water and brooding for so long that the skin on my hand was wrinkly. I called back out to Emilia so she wouldn't worry and quickly finished washing (I hadn't even used soap yet). I came out in PJs and both of us stuck together for a little bit. Again, I mostly let her talk about herself. Emi would throw herself fully into Contests next year, this time trying to use her fame online to connect with the best coordinators in the region. Unlike Pokemon Trainers, Coordinators didn't have much of a culture for random, unofficial performances outside of Contest Halls because they didn't want their techniques to leak before any future contests. It was as if every coordinator was as paranoid as Craig had been.

"I don't care for it," Emilia said with a shrug. "I'm not good enough to win enough ribbons to make it to the Grand Festival anyway. The curve is like, exponential." Speaking of, the Grand Festival this year was fully canceled, which was the first time that had happened since that apocalyptic weather event in Hoenn when I was a kid. Even the waters in Sinnoh got agitated enough to have mild flood warnings down the southern coast. "I'll rack up as much experience as I can and distill it all at the end of next year to start my true run on my third. That's when I'll be aiming for the Grand Festival."

"Will people even accept your challenges?"

"Probably not at the start," she admitted. "I'm hoping to use my platform to start a movement with people in my predicament— the ones who aren't good enough to win a ribbon from the top dogs. Maybe Denzel can help; his reach is bigger than mine."

First Louis and Chase, now Pauline and her. Everyone was moving on with their own goals while I was stuck down here in the mud. It was a little shameful; the type that makes you want to berate yourself for being so useless.

"Arceus, I hope he can handle the pain when he wakes up," Emilia added, hands tense on her lap.

"Yeah…"

She checked her watch (for some reason, she was the only person I knew who still wore an analog watch sometimes) and gasped. "Hey, it's nearly eleven pm. I should probably go."

"I get it. No need to look so apologetic." Her face had contorted as if she'd looked for an excuse. I knew it was probably exhausting to keep me on the right path when she had other things to do. "Thanks for stopping by."

"And hey, whatever I said here about Cece," she said in a cautionary tone. "It applies to Maylene Suzuki as well. Don't use her as a temporary crutch to fill the gap left by Cecilia's absence. That would be the way to turn this break into an actual break up, and it'd take advantage of the girl who has a crush on you."

"I'm already keeping my distance— relax, I'm not ghosting her!" I could tell the retort had been coming from a mile away. Innocently, I raised my arms. "I'm just distancing myself. I'll still help her out when Cece leaves if she needs it. She's been doing great lately, so…" I trailed off and kicked the floor. "Plus, I'll be in Jubilife. That's a little far away to be Teleporting back and forth with limited Kadabra." Sighing, I continued, "I plan on having an honest conversation about things when Cecilia comes back."

Emilia nodded. "Good. Finally being honest is good. If you feel yourself slipping up around her, then you'll need to do it earlier. You're…" she looked me up and down. "Emotionally vulnerable right now. You could make a mistake while you're not thinking."

"Like?"

Emilia was near my front door, now. "It could be as simple as giving her more signs— I know you crave physical contact. You were fidgeting around me like you wanted to hug me." Damn, she was spot on. I must have been really obvious about it. "I'd do it, but it'd feel wrong, you know? I don't want to be a substitute for Cecilia." Honestly, it'd probably be disappointing for me as well. "Anyway, it's possible you'd ask her to cuddle, or, I don't know, accidentally tell her 'I love you?' when she'd most likely just be a short rebound until your girlfriend came back? Or tell her that platonically like you do to us by mistake? Accidentally kiss her? There are a lot of ways this can go wrong; you're kind of a mess."

My nails dug into my palms, and I felt my jaw clench in outrage. "For the last time, I know I'm fucked up, but one, I don't want to do any of that, and two, I'm not straight up evil—"

Her face fell. "Oh. I'm sorry, I— it was just a genuine warning. It felt like since you were avoiding her so much, you yourself felt like you might make a mistake— yeah, I won't bring it up again."

My muscles relaxed, though the anger ended up leaving me mildly sweaty again. Great. After I'd spent all that energy to shower. "I'd like that, thanks."

The silence that followed was mildly awkward, so she ended it with a short wave. "I'll see you… probably not tomorrow, but the day after unless they wake Denzel up. We can text though, and don't hesitate if you need anything."

Legendaries, I appreciated her, but it felt miserable to be doubted this much. "Yeah, I will. Thanks for stopping by."

As soon as my friend left, I sat down with my old, tattered notebook I used to write on regarding battles, repeatedly tapping a pencil against my lips. All of my Pokemon— even Buddy— looked on with excitement, though they acted as if they didn't. Honey even started whistling like we were in a cartoon.

It was going to be slow. It was probably going to all be scrapped when I was in a better state of mind weeks from now.

But it was time to brainstorm new techniques for the team.



I woke up the next day bright in the morning from my phone blowing up.

Denzel had been brought back from his coma.

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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Chapter 325
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

CHAPTER 325

Fire in his back.

Denzel winced as he shifted slightly in the stiff hospital bed, the sterile sheets offering no comfort. The skin graft stretched taut across his shoulders, a patchwork of agony borne of something that wasn't his. Every breath he took seemed to ignite the raw nerves, sending ripples of pain cascading down his spine. The nurses had told him the pain would subside, that the burning sensation was just a part of the healing process. Hell, they'd even put him on a dose of painkillers that had dulled it to a manageable level, even if they made him feel like his stomach was turning inside out and it withered away all of his hunger.

In the few hours it had been since he'd awoken surrounded by doctors, who had then monitored him to see if he would be stable, Denzel had learned many things. One, since he'd woken up in the first place, the world had evidently been saved— this was the most obvious conclusion, but a huge fucking relief that had him sob the instant he woke up. No matter what lay in front of him now, it was over. Then, a cascade of good news. His friends had all lived through Coronet, as had his Pokemon. Froslass was being looked for in Coronet at the moment, but knowing her, odds were she'd left already and had begun making her way here on her own. Not only that, but the majority of his Pokemon were ready to be picked up from one of the Pokemon Centers on the island, which his dad had gone to pick up with his permission. Only Roserade would remain in the care of the Nurse Joys, but even she'd be healed within the next few days.

It was the little things like that, which could keep him smiling and thinking that life was going to get better from here on out. Honestly, he was just happy to be alive.

But he'd brought up his father, hadn't he? Life wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, even if he'd hopefully never have to worry about anything of this scale ever again. At his side, his mother— Casey Williams— sat by herself, knitting some sort of mitten on her knee. An innocent activity, no doubt, but her mere presence loomed heavily in the room. She'd always had a big personality, and Denzel expected her to scold him any time now.

She hadn't changed since he had last seen her. His mom was somewhat pudgy around the waist, with his same light brown hair and toothless smile showing genuine happiness to be here, a stark contrast to her usual less-than-friendly resting face. She had wrinkles at the side of her eyes and lips. That was new, something Denzel assumed had been brought on by stress. It hurt to see his parents aging. It kind of reminded the teenager they wouldn't be here forever.

She hummed a song quietly, one he recognized from an advertisement for milk on the radio he'd heard countless times growing up. It was one of the tunes that really stuck in someone's head. Denzel occasionally spotted her glancing at him and grinning from ear to ear. She was, he noticed, uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, his mom would be nagging at something. His posture, his messy hair, his ambition— or, you know, the fact that he'd burned off his back. Really, it was odd seeing her just not say anything. Oh, they'd spoken, of course. Denzel had caught up with her, and while she'd tried to get some information out of him with his father, he had refused to give her any.

Casey had retreated after that, which was a welcome, if odd change. Maybe seeing him like this, unable to move without wincing at the pain jolting through his unfamiliar back, had made her turn a new leaf. Or maybe she'd come to terms with his condition after having been there for so long, watching over him

"What's the mitten for?" Denzel's throat rasped with each word. It had been unused for too long, and it was as if his body had forgotten how it felt like to speak. It was alien. "Just curious."

She laughed, hand covering her mouth. It was a tick she'd gotten as a child to hide her crooked teeth before eventually getting them fixed when he was around ten. "It's supposed to be an oven mitt. For the bakery."

"Ohh. Maybe I can help out a little bit; how's business lately?"

Ah, there it was. Her face scrunched up like wrinkled paper. "You shouldn't be standing right now, let alone 'helping out' anywhere; you should focus on your recovery for the foreseeable future."

Those words made him clench his fists, and that pulled slightly on his arms, where his back followed. Another bout of pain, although this one was dull enough to mask. She was right. Denzel knew she was, but she… she could have worded that in a way not so soul-crushing. Yeah, the immense strain of getting entirely new skin on his back meant he wouldn't be able to be independent or out of here for a while. The doctors had already explained it; they had a way of just talking to people that was just so fucking heavy. Like delivering the darkest news of someone's life as if it was just another day, and then immediately moving on to what to do next.

And yeah, it was another day for them. It was work.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt.

The graft would have to be monitored for weeks and taken care of as well. He wasn't just going to walk out of here tomorrow with a piece of candy like a kid going to the dentist. Hell, Denzel was certain that just walking right now would make the pain unbearable. The fabric on his clothes brushing against his back and the mere motion— the act of walking— pulling on it would be too much to bear.

Denzel was just someone who had to keep moving. He had never not done anything. He was always busy to the point that it had nearly blown up his team with Sylvi going crazy. The prospect of being stuck here watching the days go by was a terrifying one.

"That reminds me," she continued, hands working diligently. "I'll need to bring you food over, now. Arceus forbid you're stuck eating that dreary hospital food. You'll lose too much weight. You're still growing."

"Thanks. Can you bring cookies and pastries and stuff? Homemade?" he asked.

Her knitting paused as she considered his request. "I'll do my best. The hotel we're staying at doesn't have an oven, but I'm sure we can figure something out."

"Thanks mom— Oh. Oh." If he could have done so without pain, he would have slapped his forehead. "You guys are paying to stay here?" Had the League not let them do so for free? After everything? "If that's the case, I can help—"

Casey clicked her tongue. "That's your hard-earned money, Denzel," she softly said. "Keep it. I'm just elated to still be able to talk to you. Trust me, in a few months this will just be a bad memory."

"Yep. Hope so." The words led into a long exhale.

It wasn't as if he didn't have the money to pay. Being sponsored by so many companies plus streaming had made Denzel very wealthy this year, so he was sure he could have gotten his parents a rented home near the edge of town. Granted, his mother most likely would have refused because then they'd be so far away. Thinking about money reminded him about sponsors and how many backed-up emails he must have had. Finally, work to do.

"Hey, mom, can you do me a favor?" Denzel asked. He waited until she made a sound, signaling him to continue. "Do you know where they keep all of my stuff?"

She nudged her nose toward a small, narrow door that looked like a locker without a lock. "Some of it is in here, most of it is in a dedicated storage room for patients, like your big camera. If you want something from there, I'd have to ask the staff."

"Just my laptop. I need to talk to some sponsors—"

"Denzel, what you need now is rest," she insisted in that very annoying 'I know better than you' tone. "You woke up this morning. Can you take a break for a single day, at least? For your poor mother's nerves?"

But doing nothing literally felt like countless bugs crawling right beneath his skin. It was as if he'd been sprinting for a year and now everyone was asking him to stop. The finish line was literally nowhere in sight!

"This is actually important. I need to let them know I won't make the Conference this year so they can… adjust accordingly." That question was one of the first things he'd asked his doctors, and they'd said that while it wasn't impossible, they recommended he stay with them longer and take the L. Not like that— it had been said in more traditional doctor-speak. Basically, while it killed him to admit it, he would rather be safe than sorry and come back stronger than ever next year instead of risking permanent damage to his back besides the chronic pain that would remain. "Just that and I'm done, I swear."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "If you say so." She stood up with a dreary sigh, placing her knitting tools on the counter before shuffling over to the locker-thing. "Legendaries, where is that thing?" It took her a bit to locate the laptop. Denzel saw a bunch of the stuff he'd been carrying in there. His old backpack, notebooks, some clothes, some of his merch, potions, full heals… it was so mundane to look at now, but in a comforting way.

Laptop on his lap, he finally got typing, making sure he didn't have to extend his arms too far. Finally, something to do. The hospital's wifi was somewhat slow, but at least it was functional, and emails barely needed anything at all. Denzel would check those first while messaging his friends, and then he'd check the news.

Immediately, he opened his messaging app. From a quick scroll, the group chat's activity had basically evaporated the last two days, which was odd. Maeve had even left it last week, and Mira hadn't sent a message at all.

You - Yooo everyone. I'm up. When are yall coming over to visit?

He slowly sorted through his emails afterward. First things first, rehiring his manager. She'd been a great help and had aided with his promise to spend more time with his team, but he had given her a 'break' the last month— in reality, he'd just wanted to focus entirely on dealing with Galactic and had stopped anything content-related, so he would have been paying her for no reason. His video editor came next. If he wasn't going to be out of this room, then he would need to move his work in here. That was to say, streaming. Of course, he wouldn't be able to stream battles or training anymore unless he gave Lopunny his camera and let her commentate with some kind of TTS while he was on a call— holy fuck, that was a wonderful content idea, he'd need to put a tab on that; it would play a lot better than the react streams he was planning. Though maybe as a favor, he'd ask the League for streaming rights to the Conference. That'd be an earth-shattering stream. With that kind of juice and legitimacy, getting battlers on his stream for pre and post-battling interviews was well within the realm of possibility. Hopefully he'd be rehabilitated enough to walk by then—

So many concepts for content. Denzel's mind was going a million miles an hour to compensate his lack of agency. One idea led to another; endless branching paths of opportunity for growth. It was almost enough to distract him from the constant prickling in his back, but he'd nearly forgotten about his sponsors.

So;

Sponsors next… sponsors… okay, he had a lot to go through. First, a general message about his health and apologies for being so nonresponsive after his loss to Byron. Sure, his manager had picked up the slack, but that was until she'd been let go. Some would drop him, and that was fine. Having eleven companies sponsoring you left you a lot of leeway. He'd grovel and beg. Again, that was fine. Denzel wasn't above that; he'd never had much of an ego outside of battling and trainer knowledge, anyway, and the onus of being paid by so many businesses meant that your relationships weren't as tight as they could be unless you were a legend like Craig.

"Goodness," his mother nearly gasped. "I've never seen you like this. You look halfway mad and passionate."

His mom snapped him out of the zone. Irritating. "Well, I did tell you countless times this was my dream job…" it slowly sank in that this was the first time she'd ever seen him work. His eyes glanced to the bottom right of his screen at the flurry of notifications.

Cece - We have much to talk about and I am elated to see you awake again. I will be coming later tonight at 8:30pm if possible.

Emi - :)))) omw! looking forward to it!

Hothead - Your first message back is this bs? get a grip you ass

Hothead - Ive been at the hospitaal for hours already the docs told me ur mom wont let me in the room again talk to her or ill beat her ass and ur ass and ur dads ass there wont be any asses left to beat on god

Denzel barely reacted outside of his curling fists at what should have been a humorous statement. His nails scraped against his palms as he struggled to make sense of what his mom's reasoning was. He couldn't… blow up at her. No, he had to be level headed about this. He'd confront her when he was caught up with the texts.

Hothead - super happy youre up though ngl

Chase - Beating people up? Ill join in on that.

Hothead - Ok wheels

Hothead - Sorry was that too far im trying to be responsible and set boundaries

Huh? Denzel didn't really understand that… joke?

Chase - Got a chuckle outta me.

Chase - Kys tho. Louis

Louis - ?

Chase - Fatfingered. Mb bro I meant Pauline

Louis - I don't think that's something you should say regardless, and I feel the same way about this 'wheels' joke. Denzel, I'm still very busy planning Justin's funeral for this week, I might not make it this morning. My best wishes to you.

Denzel found himself blinking a lot faster than before, chasing away nascent tears. Right, he'd been asleep for so long that the funeral was soon. Would he be able to attend in this state? Again, he looked at his mother. Would she fight him on this? Because one issue, he could forgive. Twice? She had better not start with telling him he couldn't go.

Every man had his limits.

Cece - We should go together, Louis.

Bff - Just woke up. I'll be there. Sorry.

Louis - If you don't mind, of course, Cece.

Hm. That was weirdly monotone of a message from Grace, reminding him of the days after the Backlot raid. Anxiety rippled through his next few breaths, and he struggled not to grip the side of his laptop. He had most likely missed a lot, and it would take hours for them to go through everything. He still had no idea if all his friends' Pokemon were safe. If Abomasnow was safe. Chase being upbeat in texts meant nothing, given his reticence at showing even a sliver of weakness.

You - Ill talk to my mom

"Hey." He'd begun to speak before even sending that message, making sure to keep his tone steady and calm. Evidently, he was struggling at it. "Is it true that you've barred all visitors today?"

His mother poked one of her fingers with the needle and cursed under her breath. She licked her wound before blowing on her finger. "Yes, I did," she calmly said without an ounce of regret. "Pauline King has been a thorn in my side the entire time you've been here, and usually I'd be too tired to fight her. The little hellion has endless energy to argue." Casey shook her head dismissively, placing her knitting set and half-made oven mitt on the table next to Denzel. "Have you—" her eyes narrowed at the laptop on his covers. "Ah. She messaged you, didn't she?"

"Her and all of my friends!" Denzel snapped. The anger rose faster than expected, and pain joined in as if the two were linked, flaring behind him. "What the hell is this about— about not letting her in now that I'm awake? About having tried to stop her before?"

"Watch your tone with me, young man." Her voice was firm and unyielding, enough to make him reconsider himself, yet he didn't flinch. "I have told you that I respect your choice to be a trainer, that I accept this is what you want to do. But these…" she gestured toward the door, "people have put you in danger time and time again."

"Mom, they're—"

She shot up, and her chair raked against the floor. "Do you know how worried your father and I were, when every few months it feels like you're getting yourself into another death trap?!" Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she took a sniffling breath. Denzel had only seen his mother cry once, and it was so striking. The guilt within him was nearly physical. "Do you want me to count, Denzel? Because I. Will. Count."

"You're making a big deal out of nothing—"

Her verbal assault was too relentless for him to get a word in. "Mount Coronet; you get lost for days trying to save your crazy suicidal friend and break your ribs. Solaceon; you get involved with some cultist conspiracy because that Pauline kid lost a tournament? Really?" She laughed, as if she could barely believe it. "Then, oh my God, then you join the LTIP and have secrets you can't tell me, and the next incident is you fighting poachers with ACE Trainers in Pastoria!" She was red with anger, and her voice was so raw it was barely held together by the urge to scold him after this year. "And now this? To hear that you were in Coronet again fighting Team Galactic? And that's— that's not even counting the involvement with the Bianchis and the Obels! I heard it all on the news! You are sitting in a fucking hospital bed, Denzel! Your whole back was burned and again, you could have died! I don't want to hear about how I'm the problem for making things a big deal!"

Casey Williams' entire body slumped, the energy now sucked out of her. She took a trembling breath. She stood there, her arms extended forward, hands open and palms facing up. Her fingers were slightly spread, trembling ever so faintly, as if they weren't sure whether to reach out or withdraw. The gesture seemed to plead for understanding, a silent question hanging in the air: 'What am I supposed to do with you?'

"These people are your friends, I won't deny that," she admitted. "But I am your mother, and it is clear as day to me that they have been a horrible influence on you and your safety, yet I don't think you realize it."

Denzel knew deep down that she was right.

Years, she had warned him about the dangers of being a trainer. 'It'd be different if we lived in Galar or Unova', she would say. That hadn't stopped him. Even now, passion to be the best trainer he could be and the need to educate others about it still remained, burning hot in his chest with enough intensity to make him so excited he constantly had to work to better himself.

But after this year? To his mother, his state meant vindication. Time and time again, he had come close to death, remaining too far away from Twinleaf for her to do anything about it.

"Look, I'll put it simply." Denzel wanted to get angry again, but it was difficult when your mother was still drying her tears and she had a point. "Yes, you're right that if I hadn't met any of them, odds are, my journey would have been pretty ordinary. Eterna Forest would have been the worst of it." He might have met an entirely different group with Grace, without that tournament in Floaroma. "But I promise you that it's the end of it, okay? No more life-risking endeavors."

He would do it all again, if given a choice. Usually, Denzel wouldn't have been bothered to admit it, but now wasn't the time. While yes, fifteen year olds were allowed to be trainers and travel and be independent, they were still minors who required parental consent to let visitors into their hospital rooms. Policy was a little different if you were in a Pokemon Center (like them allowing visitors in with consent from the patient if no legal guardian was present), but this was a human hospital.

Casey scoffed, disbelieving. "That's what you always say."

"I didn't say it after Backlot—" You know what, that was probably a bad line to take. "Anyway, I mean it this time. No more fighting for my life. Hell, I'll quit the LTIP if that's what you want!" It wasn't like it'd be needed as an excuse for his involvement with the League anyway. The income would be missed, but it was pennies compared to what he was making now. "I'll be totally uninvolved with the government. Just… I need to see my friends again, mom. You're just delaying the inevitable."

"What?"

"I hate to do this to you," he said with a wince. "But if you stall and don't let them see me now, I'll just go when I'm out of the hospital. You're my mom, yes, but that, you can't stop. So just… I'll be safe from now on. I promise."

"Look me in the eyes," she demanded, kneeling next to him—

"Mom, your knees—"

She gripped his wrist tighter. "Promise me and look me in the eyes. Every time you've said it before, it was over the phone. I want to look at your eyes when you say it, because I know you."

He nearly shuffled back in his bed, but remembered the torrent of pain it would bring. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, because the truth was he had no idea if sometime in his lifetime, his friends would need that kind of help again. If they did, he would answer the call, just as always. He'd be the stalwart, level-headed person in the room they could rely on in a time of crisis.

But right now? At this moment?

"I promise you."

He fully believed everything was over.

His mother locked eyes with him, searching for something. She stared deep within him for a moment and sighed, nearly stumbling with a pained grunt when she stood back up again because of her bad knees.

"I'll believe you," she said, turning away. "Legendaries, children. They grow up so quickly…"

"Thank you. And I'm sorry."

He really was.

She left the room to allow visitors soon after and said she'd wait in the hospital lobby.



Denzel had missed a lot.

It was tough for all of us to approach the news of what had happened to us in his absence in a way he wouldn't blame himself for 'tapping out early'. For the second time since Pastoria, he'd needed to be caught up on everything going on, but this time, he wanted it all down to the very fine detail. First came one of the biggest-hitting news: Chase being paralyzed from the waist down and his Abomasnow being on life support for the foreseeable future.

He blamed himself, of course he did. It was all about what he could have done better, how he could have prevented this, how he could have stopped Mars earlier. Not about how it could have been so much worse and he had burned his back off to save Chase's life. While Chase wasn't there to set him straight, Emi and Pauline did most of the heavy lifting in that regard to get Denzel's head out of the pity gutter. I would have helped, and I did, but it just… I wasn't in the best state of mind to give out advice compared to those two.

I took over for basically all of the recounting of Coronet. He reacted especially strongly to me noting that Cecilia technically died. He'd paled and immediately stared at his laptop at previous texts before I could even tell him she was fine, at least physically.

"I don't want to speak for her, though, so… yeah, you'll see when she comes back."

Denzel frowned, and for a moment he did not look bothered by the pain, but distressed by how my face must have looked. Sometimes I wished I could be as selfless as him. Here he was, bound to a hospital bed with his back burned to a crisp and built back with new skin, and he put all of his worry in me instead of himself. Maybe if I'd been like this, I would have managed to fix Cecilia's and my issues instead of it coming to a head. Maybe I'd still have her. Maybe I wouldn't have ruined—

"Grace?" Denzel leaned forward with a slight wince. "What's wrong?"

I bit my lip. "Later. There has to be an order to things."

I continued with Coronet, and while I went further here than I ever had, telling Pauline and Emilia for the first time that Cecilia, Maylene, Mira and I had all been to the Dusk with Cynthia, I refused to tell the reason why that was or what had happened in there.

"Is that why… why you're so… faded?" he had asked me.

I'd answered 'partly', and that was when his surprised expression turned to pity and he clenched his fists.

The final piece came with Craig's death to Regice; it was another gut punch for Denzel, given that he'd been the closest to the man. That was when he'd broken down crying, curled up on himself and desperately asking why? Craig Goodwill had been his mentor and idol, the one who had set him on the path of a Pokemon Trainer and also the one who had taught him the way he now battled in Sunyshore. The man Denzel went to for advice whenever he had the time; a kindhearted individual who wanted nothing but good for the world and yet who had been ruthlessly ripped from its plane.

The world was an unforgiving place. Beautiful, yet unforgiving. With how Melmetal seemed like a force of nature in Lakhutia, a Pokemon larger than life who embodied metal, I could not imagine facing down Regice and not immediately withering away to Winter.

"And yet he, Flint and Aaron saved us all," I insisted to Denzel. "They survived the Hoarfrost— Winter— long enough to tire it out and keep the mountain's temperature stable. His death was not in vain!"

"And he's getting the recognition he deserves," Emilia added, far softer in her tone. "There'll be a ceremony for him Friday."

"The day after Justin's…" Denzel didn't finish the sentence.

"Yes." Pauline nodded with her arms crossed. "Hopefully your mom and the hospital lets you go to both. We have beef."

Denzel let out a sad laugh. "Beef? With the whole hospital?"

She huffed proudly. "Yep. They get mad at me for arguing with your mom over visits." Her pride wavered, however, something I still wasn't used to seeing. "Though I guess I'm a bitch being rude to the hospital staff who just want to do their work…"

Emilia gently nudged her arm. "You just wanted to see him, we don't hold it against you. Maybe apologize now that the issue's solved, though."

The redhead nodded. "Hmhm. Wait, will they even care?"

"Odds are, probably not?" Emilia tilted her head and hummed. "It's a good thing for you to learn, though."

"Learn? What am I, your pet? Arceus." Pauline rolled her eyes as they both chuckled.

Ah, they were having a great time, weren't they? They were kind of fun to watch. I didn't want to interrupt. I let them explain the majority of what went on after Galactic, with us all sticking around the Lily of the Valley Island. Even I learned some new things about what they'd been doing in their every day lives. Eventually, and unfortunately, both of their heads turned my way. It was my job to deliver the news about Cecilia.

Even days later, I despised speaking it out loud. Childish, really.

"Cece and I…" my thumbs fiddled together, "we've always been close. Too close. And it got a lot worse after all of this, so…" I took a deep breath. It was like jumping in a cold pool. "We're on a break."

He relaxed, as if he'd expected me to tell him we'd broken up. "Oh. Like— like after the raid. Okay."

"It's more serious," I muttered. "The problems were magnified, like, tenfold. It's going to take a while for both of us to fix them, not just a few weeks. And she's starting from a worse spot than I am because her team is mad at her for killing herself."

"Yeah. That makes sense." His lips thinned, and he shifted in his bed. He did that a lot. Like he couldn't find a comfortable position, which made sense considering his condition. I wondered how he was going to sleep tonight. On his stomach? "I'm sorry you both have to go through that. I guess that's why she wanted to show up later." Legendaries, I'd nearly considered not texting in the group chat because she'd gotten to it first. In fact, just seeing a sign of activity from her had made me want to leave the chat because I feared I'd try something. Luckily I managed to stay the course and not interact with her. "And hey," Denzel continued. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here, yeah?"

"Thanks. But I'm gonna be leaving soon…"

I told him about my plan to go to Jubilife and live both there and in Twinleaf for the time being. Granted, we'd hopefully see each other again at the funeral and the ceremony… but maybe asking him for advice about Maylene would be good beforehand.

Come to think of it.

Even if I managed to avoid the Gym Leader successfully, we'd still both be at the ceremony for Craig in Jubilife. Every Gym Leader would be, along with the Elite Four and the Champion as well.

Arceus fucking damn it. Well, I'd manage to avoid her somehow. There would be thousands of people there, after all. The real issue would be avoiding Cecilia in the much smaller-scale Justin funeral. I'd held back over text, but who knew what I'd do if I saw her?

Maybe I'd just skip. She deserved to be there more than me, since she'd known Justin for far longer—

No, I had to be there. No catastrophizing. I would manage, somehow. My Pokemon would keep me centered.

"...lost in her thoughts, just leave her be."

Oh. They'd been trying to talk to me.

"Sorry, what was that?" My eyes suddenly felt dry. When was the last time I'd blinked?

Denzel raised his eyebrow. "Um… Pauline said something about Maylene?"

Was she fucking for real? The glare that came her way was unintentional, but it sure made her shrink. "How do you even know that? I thought Cecilia didn't tell you?"

"W—well, she did last night a few hours after we spoke, alright? She felt guilty about not telling me everything after all we'd been through." So I had no say in this? I couldn't help but not like that. The redhead raised her hands innocently. "Look, I—I didn't know it was a big secret? You guys are best friends? I thought we were telling him everything!"

Emilia pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "My goodness."

"Look, you don't need to talk about it if you don't want to," Denzel hurriedly said.

"No. Hey, Pauline, Emi, could you give us five?"



Look.

Honestly, I was sick and tired of this judgment over this Maylene thing. Recycling the same conversation over and over and over; there was just no end to it. It felt like rehashing the same points again and again, and people's reactions were always the same. Like they knew better than me.

"Are you like… positive you don't like her?"

It was like I was being put under a microscope again and again. It was annoying to say and feel one way and have everyone doubt you and not take you seriously. 'Oh, are you suuuure you're not in denial about this whole thing?' Well, I don't know, Denzel, I'm going to reject her when Cecilia comes back when her relationship with her Pokemon is fixed, so you tell me! I was going to! It was going to suck, but I was clear-headed enough now to know that our friendship might survive that, especially with long distance making coping easier. Plus, she hadn't even liked me for that long!

Anyway.

Of course I didn't say all of that; the last thing I wanted was to get angry at him when he had no idea I'd been asked the question so many times. He was just waking up, and his eyes were still red from having cried about Craig. If none of us had been here and he'd found out online, he might have still been beside himself.

"Yep," I said. "Certain."

"Oh. Okay." The way he'd said that felt weird, but I had no energy to fight him on it.

Actually, fuck it. "I mean, come on. You were there when I was into Cecilia; you know what I'm like," I said with an exasperated sigh. "You saw it in Floaroma! I was nervous and I could barely hold it together in front of her!"

His expression shifted to one of thoughtful acknowledgment. "I mean fair, but I haven't seen you around Maylene at all— I still can't believe that, by the way. Maylene? She hates— hated you. Hard to wrap my head around." He blew a raspberry as he shook his head. To him, the last time he'd been awake Maylene and I had a tense alliance at best. "But like, you know there are different… ways to love someone, right?"

"Oh yeah! I mean, for example, I love you, but in a family sort of deal. I'm sure Maylene's the same; I've given it some thought lately—"

"No," he interrupted. "I mean different ways to fall in love romantically." He glanced at the door. "You saw me with Pauline back in the day, right? Did I look nervous around her at all?"

"N—no, but that's because you're you. You're like, a master at handling people, you don't get nervous. I'm different." I had to be. I was three for three.

"What do you feel when you think about Maylene?" he asked.

"Anxiety. Discomfort. Anger. The need to stay away from her."

"Okay. How about two days ago?"

I threw my hands up in frustration. "What's the point in any of this? You can guess from what I told you anyway." It was the way he wanted to make me speak it out loud, to wrangle it out of me as if he could get a confession that got to me. This was why I hadn't wanted him to know just yet, because I was sure he'd be the one to push this the most. He had been my wingman with Cecilia, and while I doubted he would try anything here given his… experience with these types of forced situations with three people, he most likely would keep digging and try to give me advice I didn't need. There was, however, no way I'd be able to resist that look. The sparkle of interest in his eyes. "Ugh, fine. I guess she was relaxing to be around and… whatever. Like she could give me something that was missing. It was mindless fun, at least until I realized everything. Plus I learned it'd be best not to rely on a single person for that kind of stuff. We're better off like this."

"Fair enough. Sorry for pressing you." We shared a slight smile at the apology. Denzel added, "Getting back to me, do get nervous sometimes, though I guess my sample size is a little low; I haven't really been in love that much." He shrugged, then winced, remembering the state of his back.

"How many times?"

"Twice. The first one was when I had a bit of a crush in school on this girl, Cori. You know, the usual. She left on her journey and I couldn't go. We don't keep up anymore, but I hear she's in Hoenn these days." He tapped his thigh with a hand and stared out the window. The weather was beautiful today— Wait, twice? That was once less than me! "I was a little nervous around her, but I chalk that up to inexperience more than anything. Anyway, I won't harass you about it, I just don't believe you."

"You what?"

"I don't believe you," he repeated as clear-cut as could be. "You can reject someone and still feel something for them. You can love someone while still being in love with someone else, especially if she gives you an escape like you've described. It's not a big deal, and I'm not telling you to pursue it or try to make it work, especially not now."

"It is a big deal!" How could he not get it? Wouldn't he be hurt if someone he liked fell in love with someone else? "It would mean I betrayed Cecilia, and if you can't understand that, then we're better off not talking about it at all."

His brows slowly creased into a frown. "I'm sorry. I just think that I know you well enough to figure this out and that your actions speak otherwise, but I'll stop—"

No. Enough of this. "I have to go. I'll see you later."

I was up before even realizing my legs had moved. I couldn't deal with this. I was better off trying to get in the groove of training again and visiting later when Cecilia was gone. I was done with everyone not believing me. Sooner or later, they'd see. I sent Emilia and Pauline back into his room before leaving and made my way up north.



"Oh. I get why Pauline called you wheels now. Sorry about her. They didn't tell me you were out and about in a chair already."

Chase rolled his eyes and inched forward into Denzel's hospital room. At least he'd had the decency to keep his pity and guilt to a minimum. "I'm not soft enough to care about that bullshit."

"Obviously. She wouldn't say it to a stranger, anyway," Denzel said. "Not anymore."

Chase looked around the room. All of his friends had left, but his Pokemon were apparently back. Lopunny was crouch-sitting in the corner of the room with her phone, browsing through whatever the Chatter algorithm was feeding her. That creepy little shit Sylveon was laid down next to Denzel on the bed, a flurry of ribbons wrapped around his left arm. It looked like he was asleep, at least.

Milotic kept poking Denzel's face with his, softly squealing in joy every time he realized his trainer was actually real and Altaria used Lopunny's head as a substitute for Denzel's now that he was hurt. The normal type didn't seem to mind. This place was a whole lot livelier than his, with how his mother had decorated the place. Denzel's pillow was clearly not from here, given the Pikachu-covered casing. There were flower pots all over, along with a picture of Denzel as a kid on the bedside table. He was smiling like there was nothing wrong in the world with a big gap in his teeth, firmly sitting on a tree stump next to an unwary group of Bidoof. It was as if they were the most interesting thing in the world to him.

He'd also been fatter than Chase thought he would have been, but his growth spurt probably had stretched him out.

"Huh. How old were you in that?" Chase asked, nudging his head toward the picture frame.

"Oh, this picture? I think I was eleven. Maybe twelve."

"What? You look six."

"Fuck off, no I don't!" Denzel protested. "You're late, by the way."

"Yeah, my bad."

Chase had been out in the last few hours practicing moving around on a wheelchair. Mostly, he'd gone to pick up his team, being now confident enough of his ability to be independent on his wheelchair to actually let them see him. They'd met again and spent the entire morning together, though the news about Abomasnow hit all of them hard. They were a unit. One that trained and stuck together through thick and thin. It hurt to hear that it would be years before they could even hope of seeing him again.

Of course, they'd thrown themselves into training right away with this new plan of his to speak to Byron through battle. Ri had been especially hungry to start again, and Chase had used the opportunity not to work out his arms— that would come later— but to work out his mind. The fight would be a delicate one where messaging would be key and all eyes would be on him; he could not afford to be rash and reinforce this idea the mainlanders had of Iron Islanders just being stupid, poor people who didn't know what was for their own good.

No. He would do them justice.

"You're looking fired up over there," Denzel said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Chase realized he'd nearly bumped into his bed and woken up that abominable fairy. Heavy sleeper, that one. "What're you thinking?"

"Thinking about beating Byron's ass. That always gets me out of bed in the mornings," Chase said, cracking his knuckles.

A beat of silence passed. "You know, I thought you'd be taking this a lot worse." Denzel looked him up and down, his stare lingering on Chase's now defunct lower body. "But it looks like you're picking yourself up."

"Look, I've been dealt a shit hand, it's true. No one can deny that," Chase admitted partly to himself. No matter how much he worked, no matter what he told himself, no matter what his actions would be from now on, at the end of the day he couldn't walk. "But that's all it is. A shit hand. And hey, we nearly killed the bitch for it in the process, I'd call that a fair trade even if it's bullshit." His finger twitched at that. Damn it, he couldn't even fully believe it himself yet. There was another few seconds of silence, and he took a steady breath. "But yeah, at the end of the day, the house has been spitting in my face since I walked in. My mother died bringing me into this world." God, he had never met her, but he missed her so much. He needed to visit her grave again. "But hey, what can you do but keep your head down and keep going?"

Denzel stared at him in awe, as if he hadn't expected such introspection. Come on, at least don't make it so obvious. Chase's friend carefully itched his arm, each movement slow and deliberate. "I don't know. I thought you'd be angry. Not at me, but at… everything."

Chase scoffed. "Oh, anger. You know a year ago, I'd have thought that would have been the play." His hands gripped the side of his wheelchair. "Rage against the world for being so unfair while pretending none of it hurt me before crying myself to sleep at night. Be an ass to everyone around me."

"To be fair," Denzel said with a shit-eating grin, "you're still kind of an ass."

"I get to be a little bit of an ass, as a treat," Chase cackled, his laughter mixing with Denzel's. Lopunny heartily nodded in the corner of the room. "And to be honest, you're the exception to the rule, you fuckin' creep. I've never seen you get mad. Frustrated, yeah, but never that angry. What's up with you?"

"I do get mad; I got mad at my mom earlier today. You're right, though, it doesn't happen very often. My dad's the same," Denzel said with a shrug. "I mean, we're all people at the end of the day. I can't see myself yelling at anyone, ninety-nine percent of the time, really."

Chase squinted at him. Even after all these months, he couldn't figure Williams out completely. "You weirdo. Anyway, I can't do any of that anymore, or no one's going to take me seriously. I'll look like a loon who doesn't know what he's talking about." Chase snapped his fingers. "Funny thing about politics is that people look at you weird if you're that angry unless you're an Arceus damn Kalosian."

"Very… expressive people," Denzel acknowledged with a nod.

"Y'know I read they have fistfights in their fucking legislative bodies sometimes. Shit's crazy, but they're my kind of people— anyway, the point is that you shouldn't worry about me. I'll be fine, Williams. Focus on your own thing; you're good at that." Chase had rarely seen such a dedicated, disciplined person. According to that asshole Pauline, Denzel had been working right out of the gate as soon as he'd woken up. Meanwhile, Chase had taken nearly days of wallowing in his own self-pity to get moving again. "I hope you'll be at my battle with Byron, though."

His friend smirked. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Thanks. Trying to get all the gang together for it," Chase said. It still felt surreal to him, to be angling for a position as Byron's Gym Trainer, but he could get more change done from the inside.

Ri had better train up his steel type quickly, as had the rest of the team. Even Wimpod had gotten a fire lit under her— not that he would let her participate in the battle, she was too precious. God, he couldn't wait to give that fucker Byron his job offer.

"Any news on Mira?" Denzel worryingly asked.

"The shrimp's busy on her quest for love. I'm not one to get in the way of that, I'm glad she's moved on from me." Their dynamic had been fun, but he'd discovered more of himself these past few months. Romance was a fucking bother and a worthless time sink, and one look at all of his friends proved him right. "I hope she'll be at Justin's funeral, at least."

"Hopefully. I hope she's at least got a lead."

"Cheers to that." Chase raised an imaginary glass. "Anyway, got any advice for this Byron fuck? Since you lost to him and all." It'd do him well to last the longest amount of time possible for his pitch.

"Yeah. You're still a bit of an ass," Denzel repeated to himself. "But sure, I've got tips. Here, let me pull up footage of my battle…"



The main way Cecilia had of judging people was now their initial reaction to her. People were divided into two categories. One, the people who shied away or were terrified of looking her in the eye. These were prey, from whom she took great pleasure from. Cecilia knew this was now as instinctual to her as breathing. Ghosts took great pleasure from negative emotions, given that was what they'd been born from. Alas, she hated that jolt of pleasure and the sliver of a smile she had every time someone was unsettled or at least shook or taken by her appearance. It had not been supposed to be this way.

Yet it was.

There was a second kind of pleasure, brought by the human half of her which thankfully remained. The way eyes and faces danced with pleasure at the sight of her whenever she met with her friends. She had been nervous about Denzel's initial reaction to her, but her old friend was thankfully too good for this world. The moment Cecilia and Louis stepped into his room after knocking, he beamed at them with such a bright expression she figured she might have been going blind. He looked as if he'd been struggling to make any movement, however, and they knew a hug wouldn't be possible.

"We missed you," Louis said, clearly relieved. During the way here, he'd made his opinion about how Denzel must have been hiding how bad he truly was heard, but their friend looked at least to be functioning. Granted, he was on painkillers. "How has your first day back been? Have the others caught you up?"

Cecilia enjoyed letting Louis speak. He was a kind man with more sweetness than he knew what to do with. She opted to let him catch up with Denzel for a while, instead retreated into her own thoughts—

No. She could not. Or she would regret her choice again, and her phone was only a mere gesture away. She'd needed to use Scizor to snap her out of a trance with a loud buzzing sound before she could text Grace once she saw her in that group chat. Luckily she hadn't used it since, and neither had Cecilia. Things would hopefully get easier tomorrow once she got Slowking back, but…

The number of times she had nearly slipped was more than ten at this point. The sooner she was off this island, away from anywhere with reception, the better. And yes, it was getting easier. Slowly. Each day, the water drowning her was an inch lower than the last. The problem was there were countless inches to go through.

Instead, when the time came to tell Denzel about herself and her death, she did so, making sure to express regret at what she'd done. He could barely believe his ears, and sometimes even she couldn't believe she'd survived. To not only have learned Perish Song, but to have used it to bring her back? Lehmhart had always been good at music, but he was a true prodigy. The impact of the news was a little blunted by the others having told Denzel earlier today.

"And Cece?" Denzel spoke up. "How are things going? I heard about the break and… everything else surrounding it. Sorry about everything, I hope you guys fix what you've got going on."

She opened her mouth, but realized it had fallen too far down to make the sound she'd wanted. Instead, a strange, low-pitched grunt came out. "S—sorry." The way her body worked was cumbersome, sometimes. "I hope so as well. It's… difficult, but I count each day I survive as a blessing."

A sad smile stretched across Louis' lips. A smooth expression Cecilia had been able to make, once. Now nearly everything on her face was sudden and violent. "We're all here for you, Cece. And look, you've said it yourself, right? This is for the better."

Yes, she had said that a whole lot these past two days, mostly to convince herself.

"I'm surprised about the Maylene thing," Denzel said. When Louis stared daggers at him, he raised an eyebrow. "What? I can talk about it. Wait, can I talk about it?"

"I'll tell you if it's too much." Cecilia inclined her head, making sure to catch it before it went too low. A mild success, she'd found.

"I kind of pissed Grace off earlier by bringing her up. She came back later, but… yeah, she was still stewing," Denzel said. "Should have known to not insert myself into this stuff. It's a flaw of mine."

Ugh. Just hearing her name was— "Maybe don't mention her by name," Cecilia muttered. "It's… tough."

"Shit. Sorry, you were right, Louis—"

"No. It's my fault for being so emotionally weak," the Unovan lamented. She rose from her chair and walked around the room. There were signs of Pokemon here. Lopunny's fur scattered across the room; the floor slick with water from Milotic; an impression on the bed where Sylveon had been. "The truth of the matter is, Maylene isn't a variable in this situation." She stopped to look through the window. It was so dark, yet it felt like she should have been able to see regardless.

"Isn't she?" Louis asked. Even he was surprised.

"She was the catalyst for everything, but the issues ran deep. Maylene will be fine regardless; her crush on her is an unsustainable one. Immature." Cecilia had seen it even more when they had spent the afternoon together yesterday. Luckily, the Gym Leader hadn't brought up Grace too much, focusing instead on what both she and Cecilia could learn from each other.

"Gra— her crush on you started as an immature one. Mostly based on your looks," Denzel said. "But you are leaving, so I guess you're right— wait, what's going to happen if you two don't get back together by Unova?"

Cecilia wanted to collapse as a pile of body parts on the floor. How should she know? "I am uncertain, but she has her own part to play and I have mine. That doesn't change whether we're together or not; this is how relationships are supposed to work." At least Emilia had told her so. The truth was, Cecilia wasn't really sure about what normal relationships were like.

"Things will work out before then, I'm sure," Louis reassured. Cecilia hoped so too, but there was a lot of work to be done. So much toiling. "Let us move on to more positive matters. Denzel, I saw that you posted on Chatter on our way here…"

Ah, Louis. Bless his soul; he was trying even if it wouldn't work for her. It did not mean she couldn't try. She threw herself into the conversation, which devolved into a social media training course from Denzel. Her friend was adamant she needed to be more active if she wanted to be a politician, and he was right. Unovans were very active online on their own version of Chatter run by X Technologies, including Gym Leaders and the Elite Four. She would need to build a following and post about her activities, along with her pleas.

Cecilia had been so reluctant to come here tonight, but…

This place;

It was suffocating, but things were getting better. Inch by inch.



A/N: Kind of a bridge chapter filled with conversations and character interactions, but it had to be made. Next chapter is finally the Mira Interlude…s? Idk it it'll take a single part or two.

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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Interlude - The Search
A/N: Missed it by a day, my bad team, but it was very long.

INTERLUDE - THE SEARCH


"I need you to find someone."

Mira jolted awake in the middle of a quaint café. A handful of wooden tables were scattered across a polished floor. Each one was topped with a flickering candle, casting a gentle light that danced over the delicate porcelain teacups and saucers as if they'd tried to make this place as Galarian as possible. After a quick look around, she heard the bustling activity outside, which could only mean they were back in Jubilife or the more modern parts of Hearthome.

Wake the fuck up, processing Mira yelled in her head. I got you your man.

In front of Mira, Carlos loomed over the table. His body was so large that it was as if he'd been sitting at a toy set rather than an actual establishment. His only eye lodged in the intact part of his face was in the process of narrowing in confusion, most likely at her reaction. Mira's eyes were heavy. How long had she been asleep for?

Three hours. Could have been more, but I'm not handling any conversations. Fuck you, processing Mira clamored so loud it worsened her headache. Usually, a quick flick within her mind would have sent it to her pained self, but Mira had gone over her quota for the day. Any more, and the damned prick would sabotage her.

Pained Mira huffed with a feral smile. She could visualize it so clearly. That's right; you watch yourself.

Arceus damned unionizing personalities. The worst part was that they could never be shut out. She had kept them alive for too long, and they had grown far too large and independent to be merged ever again. She'd learned her lesson. No more Miras, or things would degenerate and the last thing she needed was to get worse instead of better.

In the time it had taken for her to introspect and listen to her other selves berate her, Carlos had finally focused his gaze on her. She'd gotten used to his face by now, but the public was another matter entirely. His left side retained the rugged features of a once-handsome man, with a strong jawline, a high cheekbone, and a dark, intense eye framed by a thick brow. His right was another story. The skin was grotesque and disfigured, melted away by acid, leaving behind a patchwork of scar tissue that twisted and pulled into a patchwork of faded pinks. Within the socket, only an empty, hollow hole could be found. The corner of his mouth on the damaged side was pulled upward into a grimace, and you could see his teeth all the way to his molars.

Needless to say, Carlos attracted attention wherever he went. "I'm someone who kills things efficiently," he said, emotionless. "If you want to figure out where someone is, I'd be awful at it."

He says this, but look at him. He wants to help, Cold Mira said, the permanent shiver in her voice still clearly present. Regice's influence had seeped far into her, and the cold she'd felt would be permanent. Without Uxie's power, her actual body would have had to deal with it. And it was. Mira just didn't have to actually process the frigidness spreading through her. As a result of this, Cold was often the slowest speaker due to how she'd stumble through every word, second only to Anxious.

Anxious Mira was also shaking, yet for an entirely different reason. I don't know, Mirs. What if we never find Lauren? What if she's already on a ship to Johto or something, and we never see her again?!

That was… a possibility. Not the boat to Johto part, but the 'disappears forever' part. The truth was, if a trainer of her caliber wanted to disappear, there was very little a person like Mira could do to stop her. Since she'd come back from the Distortion World, Mira had looked up and down Sinnoh, with Alakazam and Gardevoir working in tandem to Teleport her across the Region. She had posted online about her and scoured every city, but of course, despite her five minds, she was confined to only one body. Fleshy, weak and unable to go off-route where Lauren's team would be able to keep her safe.

F-focus, Anxious Mira stumbled, still reeling from the thought of losing Lauren. Don't close yourself off again.

Ugh, she needed to stop getting lost in her thoughts like this. Mira was thankful Mirs was taking the majority of her worries away from her, though. She wouldn't have been able to function without…

Well, without any of her other selves, no matter how much she complained.

Oh. Right, they'd come up with a name system. Better than them being titled, after all; they were quickly outgrowing their primary reason for existence anyway. Anxious was Mia, Cold was Mirs, Processing was Mims and that jackass Pained had decided to claim their full name of Mirabelle, which they hadn't used since writing their names on school tests and assignments.

Maybe that was why they were coming into their own so quickly—

"Mira," Carlos gruffed. He waved a hand in front of her until she blinked and remembered where she was before grabbing onto his teacup. It looked minuscule in his hands. "Focus. I'm on break, so I'd like to be enjoying myself instead of helping brats."

Arceus, sometimes it feels like you want to fuck up on purpose, Mirabelle scolded.

Swallowing, she grounded her feet under the table. "Sorry," she quietly apologized both to her and Carlos, though the ACE knew how she easily got lost in thought. "I just… I haven't found a trace of her, and I've been looking for over a week! Her brother's ceremony is on Friday, and I'm terrified she'll miss it! Plus, there's the funeral afterward, and her family's been looking for her too! They can't lose two kids."

We should have gone to see them, Mims said as she inhaled air into Mira's lungs and blinked with her eyes.

You were outvoted, Mirs said, teeth chattering. They barely know us. It'd be weird to just show up while they're mourning Craig. She was cold physically, but cold in spirit as well. A defeatist at heart who would rather wither away instead of fighting for their friend.

She could almost picture Mirabelle rolling her eyes. Who cares, anyway? You should have knocked her out again, Mims; we know better—

Quiet!
the real Mira yelled to herself, pushing them down to the edges of her subconscious. They'd be quieter there, but never truly gone.

She refocused just in time, given that Carlos had begun speaking again. "Look, there are guys in the ACE force who could probably track her better than I could." He clicked his tongue when he saw the flicker of hope in Mira's eyes. "No, Mira. I like you. I like you more than I should, but the extent of our contact is over. An ACE Trainer… shouldn't get attached. This is it between us; I hope you grow up to be happy. I shouldn't have come."

"What— hey, wait!"

Carlos had already stood up, putting money bills down on the table to pay for both their drinks. Mira tried to grab his sleeve, but she felt a cold shiver of magnified dread shoot down her spine. Prickles right beneath her skin, poking to burst out at any moment. She hugged herself and gritted her teeth while Mirs noted that she had to deal with worse every day, every hour, every minute.

Fucking Mismagius. It was a good thing she hadn't had Gengar out, or he would have come out to 'play' with her and gotten himself killed in ten seconds tops in the middle of a damn public café. Mira's shoulders sagged as she slumped back in her chair, slowly sipping on her bottled water as she contemplated what to do. She was effectively at a dead end here. Carlos had been her last hope, and he'd hung her out to dry.

There's nothing left to do, Mirs mumbled, stumbling over her words. Let's give up and go home.

For once, the rest were quiet. Mira clasped her fingers together and leaned against her linked hands. She could head to Canalave and find her parents' address with a little sleuthing, given that her father was a public servant. She just didn't want to intrude on their space and… disappoint them in any way. It was a stupid, nonsensical thing to do, but Mira was far from a perfect being only driven by logic despite the gift she'd been given. The tip of her fingers felt cold until Mirs sniffled in her head, sucking out the icy touch from Mira's mind. She'd promised Craig to take care of his sister if anything happened to him, and now that he was dead, she couldn't even find the damn girl.

"Is there anything else I could do for you, or will that be everything?"

A waitress had come by to check up on her. Mira hadn't bothered paying attention until now, given that Mims usually handled all the background stuff like that, but an eye-catching thing about her was that a strand of her hair was dyed white.

Mira shook her head. "No, we'll take the check, thank you." Mims had taken over her mouth to speak.

The waitress frowned, but hesitantly nodded before leaving. While Mirabelle fought with Mims over the usage of 'we', Mira's eyes slowly widened as an idea wormed itself into her mind.

There was another way.



Finding her had been easier than Mira thought.

Sarah Newman had arguably been the second most famous trainer in Sinnoh, right behind Craig. Their rivalry was legendary, with Craig almost claiming victory over her during the Conference finals last summer—a battle so intense that pundits still call it the best Conference Final ever. Even Mira, despite her usual disinterest, had watched that match. Unfortunately, their tale came to an abrupt end afterward. Sarah left for Kanto after losing to Bertha during her Elite Four run, leaving Craig as the undisputed front-runner to win this year.

That was until he died. Now she bet everyone was scrambling to be a winner, using the extra time to push their teams to the limit.

All of that to say that, again, it was easy to figure out where famous people lived. Sarah Newman, it turned out, had lived just a few blocks away from Mira in the poorer, eastern side of the city until she'd gotten enough money to move her foster family to the posh west. It wasn't a mansion akin to what Pauline or Louis would own, but it was still a home in the most expensive parts of the city. Mira had basically never been here outside of when she'd hung out with Grace for a while inside and near Poketch Headquarters, but she'd seen the effects the bombs had on Jubilife to get here. The remains of collapsed or damaged buildings, upturned pavement or asphalt roads, and shrines built to commemorate the dead that left the scent of candles permeating throughout. The city government had passed a bill to get started on a monument to remember the dead by, like the ones you'd see for the Great War or the famine in Sinnoh that followed due to Articuno's Ice Age. It'd be built in the center of the city and have all the names, and nearly every city was looking at creating something similar with their own spin on it.

Now that she was here, Mira hesitated when her finger hovered over the doorbell. What was she even going to say?

Hello, I'm looking for Craig's sister, and I'm pretty sure you knew her decently well. Not only that, but a trainer of your caliber would be able to go anywhere in the country, so I'd appreciate your help, Mirabelle droned sarcastically. How's that?

Not bad,
Mims said with a nod.

We we could show her our phone for pproof, Mia added.

Mirs sighed. We need to, or she'll think we're worthless.

As always, the quartet felt the need to push their input. Mira pressed the doorbell and heard the sound reverberate in the house. She took the time to get a good look at it. It really looked like one of those old places from the 19th century, where Jubilife underwent a massive reconstruction after being ravaged by a combination of diseases, civil wars, and famines caused by bad harvests and wild Pokemon attacks on farms during the Troubled Century. As a result of this, the buildings older than this were few and far-between in the city. Emilia's parents owned three, being real estate people.

"Who is this?" a muffled voice came through the door. Upon closer look, Mira could see the peephole darkened a smidge. "We've already said no press. Do we need to call Dragalge back? Or do you want Weavile this time?"

That wasn't a girl's voice. Maybe one of her foster siblings? "I'm Mira Compton. I'd like to speak to Sarah Newman if she's here, please? If she isn't, could I leave a number to contact her? It has to do with— I'm a friend of Lauren Goodwill who's worried about her and who's been looking for her for over a week. I have proof if you need it."

The voice hummed as if intrigued by her words. The darkness behind the peephole disappeared, but he'd gone too far for Mira to hear what he was saying. A minute passed, then two, then five, but that was okay. Mira could wait. She listened to her inner selves strategize while she stayed quiet and leaned against one of the pillars supporting the overhang above their porch.

Eventually, she heard a few voices again, and Mims hastily put her back in front of the door with a polite smile, wider-opened eyes, and a good posture. Mira's heart jumped when the door opened right away.

There was this thing about some trainers. People who could capture anyone's attention without even trying. Maybe it was just because Mira had never seen Sarah Newman before other than on television or online, but she had it while people like random trainers you found off the street did not. Craig had owned it as well.

Sarah Newman had been born with naturally white hair. Usually, she wore it long, but this time, it had been fixed into a bob cut that looked horrible on her. She had long bangs that nearly hid her bright hazel eyes behind thick strands of hair. She straddled the line between gaunt and thin, though with how tall she was, there was no way she wasn't underweight. Not as long as Cynthia and Cecilia were, but still decently taller than average for a woman.

As thin as Sarah was, she was larger than life in a way that held Mira's gaze for longer than she would have given to anyone else. Even Mirabelle was breathless. Sarah bent slightly forward, eyes narrowing at Mira.

"You don't look like much." Her voice was loud but flat. It was like listening to a robot speak, though it was nowhere as bad as Justin had once been. Just odd. "You say you know Lauren?"

She wasn't as depressed as Mira thought she'd be, but then again, everyone had their own way of grieving, and it wasn't like she'd show herself so vulnerable to a stranger.

"I—I do, and I have proof on my phone if you want." She hadn't used the thing much lately other than to check if Lauren was seen anywhere on her megathread or to send her a few messages. "We're friends. Good friends, even." Or at least Mira hoped so.

A dark-skinned teenager with a buzz cut came up behind her. "Who's this gal, Sarah?" he asked. Every word was laced with a tint of irony. "Want me to kick her out? Not like she'd amount to much; she looks pretty scrawny." He drew out the last word in the most obnoxious way possible.

The white-haired woman pushed her foster sibling back inside the house with an annoyed, yet love-filled groan, closed the door, and opted to speak to Mira alone. "Sorry about my brother. He's at that age, and he's a little lonely."

"Lonely?" Mira asked.

"Shaun's the second youngest, and he only has his sister left. Everyone else has moved out. Become a trainer, gotten into a trade, or are prepping for college. Plus, he's still pissed at me for leaving for a year no matter the amount of money I throw at them," Sarah droned. "Enough about my family life. Show me this proof."

Mira scrambled to grab her phone and would have dropped it without Mims backing her up. She quickly scrolled to Lauren's name on her contacts and showed Sarah her texts. It felt a little wrong to show so much to her, especially when the woman had started scrolling through everything, but if it was what it took to find Lauren, Mira would swallow her pride.

"Hm, yes, this seems legit. That's her number," Sarah whispered to herself. "I believe you."

She threw the phone back into Mira's hands, which she again nearly dropped. "W—will you help me find her, now?"

"Hm. Why don't you come in, first?"

What? Any second wasted here was a second Lauren could be in danger! "Are you sure we can't just talk on the road?"

"Yes," she deadpanned.

Mira supposed she had no choice, then.

She stepped into the old home, whose entryway was full of old shoes of all sizes. There were plenty of pictures on a drawer showcasing their entire family. Children of all creeds and ages, with Sarah being the oldest, along with their foster parents. A chubby woman with mid-length hair and a burly man whose body was somewhat like Crasher Wake's. The so-called Shaun, who looked to be around thirteen or so, was sitting in the living room with his feet up on the couch's backrest, playing on some sort of console upside down. A war game of some sort with all kinds of futuristic guns and two Pokeballs on his tooltip. His sister looked like a typical native Johtoan, somewhat like Maeve, and she was nose-deep in her phone, not even sparing the stranger in her house a glance.

"That's Mei. Anyway, pay them no mind. Want something to drink?" Sarah didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she made her way to the kitchen and got started on coffee. "I guess that's a no. Sit somewhere. Anywhere. I'll get to you."

If Sarah was making her wait, she'd do best to at least form a strategy or something. Wasn't this girl supposed to be super good at reading people like Gardenia or Grace— or at least for the latter, when she was in the right state of mind? Mira had heard that Sarah was even better than the grass type Gym Leader at getting in people's heads and that she never, ever lost twice to someone.

Mira wondered where their parents were. Work had started up again for the majority of people, though, and she'd heard they both worked different jobs at hospitals, so it made sense they wouldn't be here, especially now. They probably spent entire days away from home.

Sarah came back with a huge coffee mug, and Mira started to notice the bags under her eyes sloppily hidden by foundation and concealer. Had she not slept? Was she grieving after all? The trainer took a chug of the scorching hot coffee as if that hadn't burned her mouth off completely and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Where have you looked?"

The question was so sudden Mira wasn't sure she'd heard it right. She'd wanted this, but had expected some random small talk first.

"I don't beat around the bush," Sarah said. "So again, I ask, where have you looked?"

"Every city except Twinleaf— I have two Teleporters, so I can cover a lot of ground fast." Mira didn't miss Sarah rolling her eyes when she mentioned psychics. She ignored her and continued. "Lauren has a pretty rabid fanbase that she hates, but I was able to put them to good use and organize search parties and stuff, but all of that came up empty. I've looked on a lot of routes as well, though obviously I can't cover everything there. I considered Coronet because it was where her brother went to train, but it's closed off, so there's no way she would have made it through without anyone hearing."

Mims took a breath and allowed her to continue.

"Battle Frontier permits take months to get approved, so there's also no way she would have managed to get there. Even illegally, she has no flier and has never been, so she couldn't have had her Reuniclus bring her. She could have gone south of Twinleaf, but I couldn't check there because I'm also in the same boat and I can't fly. Route 216 and 217 are really long and it's where we really bonded for the first time so I spent a lot of my time scouring the route and I found nothing and—"

"Remember to breathe," Sarah warned. Her deep voice cut through Mira's rambling like a knife.

Damn it, what the hell was Mims even doing?!

I'm just as invested in this as you are, you bitch! she yelled back. Sorry for being fucking human and not your breathing machine. Maybe you should learn how to function on your own again!

Mira winced. Point taken.

Yeah, she got you there, Mirabelle acquiesced.

"You've been diligent; you clearly care for her." Sarah's hands wrapped around her warm mug tightly. "Lauren and I were never that close if I'm being honest with you— she disliked me because I kept beating her brother, and she'd never admit it to herself now, but she was and remains his biggest fan. Plus, with all of my little siblings, I was tired of kids, especially if they were going to be rude to me," she said.

"Fuck you too, Sarah!" Mei yelled from the living room.

The trainer shook her head with an exasperated sigh. "I'm not ordering pizza tonight."

"What? But why?" her sister whined.

"Just be quiet and you'll get it. Cheesy crust, pepperoni and everything." Sarah waited for both of her siblings to agree, though they demanded soda in exchange for their cooperation. She accepted and turned her attention back to Mira. "Lauren and I were never close," she repeated, "but I know her. I have an idea of where she would be."

Every single Mira beamed, and more happiness permeated through her right then and there than she'd remembered feeling in months. "Then we can go?"

Sarah gulped down more coffee. "Mm. I can go."

"What?"

Sarah slid her coffee mug across the table. It was already empty, but Mira could still feel the heat radiating off of it. "It's easy to see you care about her, but I don't know if I can trust you. I don't know if you'd be the best person for her to see in her current mental state."

What the fuck? Mirabelle clicked her tongue and stomped a foot, which gave Mira a headache. This girl has her head so far up her own ass!

"You don't understand. I have to see her."

"Why?" Sarah tilted her head.

"Because I—" Something she'd been about to say had made Mirs cut her off. It would have been too warm. "Look, I'm a thousand lies packed into a body that pretends to know what it's doing, I wouldn't trust me either," Mira admitted, her eyes downcast. Suddenly, the little creases and stains on the table were the most interesting thing in the world. "But I made a promise to Craig before we both headed into Coronet. I told him that if anything happened to him, I'd be there for Lauren. So I don't care if you don't want me to be there, I will be there."

Sarah smiled. "There you are."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

The tall girl stood up, her hands against the table. "You were talking like a meek little child who was so uncertain about herself, not someone who wanted to save her friend from grief," she said. "This is who I believe can reach Lauren's heart. It'd have to be you, after all. Lauren hates me."

"R—right." Mira blushed, and her mouth felt dry all of a sudden. "Where are we going, then?"

"Where Craig and I used to train after we reconnected," Sarah murmured, slightly misty-eyed. "Victory Road."

"Wha—"

She then turned toward her siblings, leaving enough money for pizza on the table. "Tell mom and dad I'll be out on a trip for a bit. Be back in a few days."



Two things about Sarah Newman.

One, she did not speak much beyond the bare minimum. This made sense, considering they were strangers, but even Lauren would speak your ear off about battling or music to someone she didn't know if they weren't weird to her first. It made Mira wonder how in the world she'd been Craig's best friend and possible girlfriend, once? There were a lot of rumors about their relationship online, though it'd never been confirmed, and eventually they went their separate ways until their last year, when they reunited. Craig Goodwill was someone who'd never leave a person to stew in silence; he'd always find something to talk about and make you feel right at home. There was this warm aura about him.

Or had been.

Two;

She was fucking insane.

Sarah's team was well documented, and she hadn't caught anything new in her time in Kanto. Her Swanna was larger than average and could fit two people with a little room to spare, especially a kid like Mira. Her Ditto was known to be able to transform into many Pokemon as well— including many flying types such as Staraptor, Pidgeot and Fearow— though the only ones it had truly mastered were Pokemon on her team. Unfortunately for Mira, Sarah preferred to use her Mantine for transportation.

Mantine. The Pokemon that swam and sometimes managed to hover for a few dozen seconds out of the water, or maybe a few minutes at most? And that was after building up enough speed? Hers could fly without a hitch, and instead of sitting safely in the center of the water type's body, Sarah's legs dangled over her Mantine's wings— fins! They were fins! Her messy bob cut danced in the wind, and she looked down at the world passing her by without a single flinch even when Mantine abruptly moved, repositioned itself, or flapped its… fins.

Ju—just call them wings, Mia muttered. Easier to stomach.

They were— she was strapped on tight to a saddle, but that still didn't help, even when Mia was handling most of the fear. It was when she'd seen footage of Barry Lane's Rapidash fly; some things just weren't intended to be tried, and not only that, she was on top of this experiment, riding it instead of just watching from afar.

But Sarah was a professional. A crazy professional, but she knew what she was doing, especially since she hadn't fallen yet, so Mira took a deep breath as Mantine sang and pivoted upward, flying through a cloud that left her cold, wet, and miserable. Sarah Newman was a shivering mess, hands gripping the side of her Mantine's wings as she'd nearly slipped, but it was not fear that took her.

It was laughter. She was giggling like a little girl at almost having slipped off her Mantine and died. Was she a thrill seeker? The water type seemed to pay her no mind besides some kind of knowing sound. A gentle, whooshing noise that carried whispers of the ocean with it, but still sounded animalistic enough not to unsettle her.

It was beautiful up here, even if the air was thin. Actually, shouldn't they be passing out right now from the lack of oxygen, or the decrease in air pressure? They were far beyond the safe limit recommended for flight! A sea of clouds lay beneath them, a veritable ocean that filled the sky as far as the eye could see. Above them lay the endless blue sky, as if you were above everything and only emptiness remained between you and outer space. At least until the illusion was dashed and you looked in front of you— to the east— and saw Coronet peaking through the clouds and going further than even that.

She'd climbed all of that.

"Do it again," Sarah said with a wild grin.

What the fuck? Did she forget Mira was on here? She was starting to think that was entirely possible. Mantine acquiesced, and Sarah repositioned herself to lay flat on her stomach while her hands were wound tightly at the edge of the flying type's wings. Wings that it pulled in as it dove— holy fuck. It was nosediving toward the clouds at speeds so high the air whistled past Mira's ears. She shut her eyes when Mantine entered the clouds and held her breath as if it were anything other than vapor.

Feeling silly, she reopened them and saw that Mantine was slowly diving and jumping in and out of the clouds like they actually were in the ocean. Behind them, it left trails of clouds that stretched for miles. Mira's eyes darted to Mantine's wing—

Sarah wasn't there.

She wasn't there!

Mira knocked on Mantine's back, finding it a lot tougher than she'd expected. Like dense rubber. "Hey! Hey, your trainer fell!" she shrieked as loud as she could. Oh, Legendaries, was she going to have to be the cause of Sinnoh's second most famous trainer's death too?

Mantine seemed unbothered, and it took a few seconds for her to get it. Out of the clouds came Sarah Newman, arms outstretched as if she were a bird with wings and cackling like a wild woman. She was flying.

Flying.

"Wooooooooooooo!" Her voice ripped through the air, echoing across the sky and clouds.

She's going to get us killed in Victory Road, Mirs said. For once, they all echoed the sentiment. If Mira squinted, she could see the subtle shift around her. This was no psychic move. She floated weightlessly beside her Mantine, cradled within a shimmering bubble of air that clung to her like a second skin. The bubble was a translucent sphere, faintly glimmering with iridescent hues, reflecting the soft light of the sky.

Such mastery of flying type energy was…

Fucking unheard of in this region.

Her hands were moist. It took another six minutes and thirty-six seconds by Mims' count for Sarah to land back on her Mantine, sweaty and out of breath. At least it explained why she seemed not to fear falling off the damn thing— Mantine would simply pick her back up before she could go splat on the ground. Newman ran a hand through her messy hair and looked alive, for a moment, before her face returned to her neutral, flat expression reminiscent of Justin.

What was going on inside her head? Mira could have known, had she been empty of morals. Maybe she was thinking about how it'd been a while since she'd gotten to do that? Or maybe about Craig and what he would have said to her. He'd been a pretty safe flier compared to her, though even Chasey qualified as a safe flier if Sarah was the standard.

"We'll be flying for a while." Sarah's voice made Mira jump out of her skin, and all of her selves screamed in her head. "Have I given you enough time yet?"

"Time for what?" Mira stammered. Her voice seemed louder now, unaffected by the strong winds around them.

Sarah scrunched up her nose. "About what you're going to say to get Lauren back. About what you're going to say to her beyond 'Craig told me to take care of you.'"

Mira nodded. Oh, she'd had something in mind for days alright, though today had put many things in perspective. "I might have something to add here and there. I don't know how she'll react, though. Like, I don't know how she'll be grieving."

Mira couldn't believe Lauren might have been right under her feet. She'd put everything off, be that her uncle or her friendships to scour the region in order to find her, and it turned out she'd forgotten to look at Victory Road. Under the Lily of the Valley Island. She'd been so stupid not to think of that, especially when Craig had trained there as well.

"Lauren is an angry girl," Sarah explained, patting Mantine's wing. "She will be angered beyond reason. You'll have to reach her heart if you want to convince her to get back."

Right. Mira had seen Lauren cry, but that was almost always accompanied by anger. Her mind whirled at the thought of having to face her mad again without flaking, but she knew deep down that she'd find the power to. It was her duty. Mira looked at Sarah out of the corner of her eye. She was talking to Mantine about him— Mira had finally figured out his gender— being hungry.

"Wait until we get to the open ocean," she reassured the enormous beast. "You'll get all the plankton you want."

Ah. Mira assumed they'd be stopping on the coast or swapping to her Swanna sooner rather than later, then. Now a little less anxious, she settled into her saddle and relaxed her muscles, which had been tense for at least twenty minutes straight.

Eventually, the silence got a little too awkward. "Can I ask what Lauren was like as a kid?" Oh, Mira wanted to know as well, but the uncomfortable silence was a convenient excuse.

Sarah worked her jaw for a moment. "Do you know how sometimes you look at someone and know they're destined for great things?"

"Um. No?" Mira hesitantly said.

"I've got a knack for it, I think. Saw it in Craig when we first met; he was just…" she sighed, her mouth twisting in a saddened grimace, "so focused on a battle he was looking at on his shitty flip phone, but not because it was flashy, or because he just liked to look at it. He was learning. It drew me in."

Ah. Mira could get that a little. Sometimes, when she looked at her friends, she saw a passion for battle that she'd never had, with each fight they looked at being a learning moment. She nodded and hummed, letting Sarah know she finally understood.

"Do you have any idea how weird it is to see a seven-year-old fight battles in her own head? Ask her brother to use his Pokemon to train? Know more at her age than we did at fifteen?" Sarah said with a prideful smile. "She was a terrifying little thing. So small, yet so eager to learn." Sarah paused, running a finger below her nose. "But there was a soft side to her as well. Lauren loved taking pictures and drawing Pokemon she found anywhere. Sometimes, some would pose for her, and it'd make her day. Even the wild ones in the city."

"She still draws." Mira remembered the moment they'd shared in that tent on the way to Snowpoint. "Though they're more moments she enjoyed in battle, these days."

"Glad she still has that hobby," Sarah said with a caring nod. "What else? She'd wear Craig's merchandise to school before puberty hit her and she started growing angry at him. She once threw a tantrum because the usual flavor of milkshake she ordered every week was out. One time her parents were out on date night, she blasted music so loud she got the cops called on her house…"

"You do know her well," Mira muttered.

Tears flickered in the sunlight. "I did, but Craig was the one… who told me most of this." Her voice was hoarse when she uttered her dead friend's name.

"Oh." Way to put her foot in her mouth. Sarah hadn't processed his death either, had she? She was just hiding it beneath everything. "Sorry."

"S'alright. Wish I could show him the flying trick," she laughed and sniffled right after. "I learned it while in Kanto— Legendaries, they're fun down there. He'd have looked at me all gobsmacked and— and I'd have asked him to try it. He would have said no a few times, but then he'd do it anyway. Because he was Craig." Below them, Mantine echoed with the sound of the sea. "Thanks, buddy. I'm alright."

Eventually, the Mantine swam past the clouds again, diving under them slowly but surely. This time, the frigid cold didn't hit Mira as hard, and wind whipped around her clothes, causing them to dry immediately. With a happy cry, Mantine continued down toward the water. They were already near the coast somewhere up north, possibly around Veilstone. What was surprising was that they weren't actually going to stop near the beach. Already, Mantine had rushed past it, wind sweeping below them and annoying a bunch of Krabby and Shellos. One of the crabs was even swept off its feet and thrown into the sea.

"Um, the League is still under lockdown, right?" Mira asked. "If you stop, I can call them and let them know you're coming."

Sarah ignored her. She'd been quiet since reminiscing about Craig; a return to the norm. Mira felt a pit form in her stomach the closer Mantine got to the water. Another minute, and they were ten feet above it. Another, and Mantine's wings were grazing it with every movement. Mira was done underestimating Sarah Newman, so she thought there must have been a plan to not get immediately shot down by the League. She knew that lying low helped to not get picked up by radar, and maybe they had a technique to stay hidden from psychics and to turn invisible.

Or maybe, Mantine showed, they were just going to dive underwater. The water closed over her head, cool and enveloping, but there was no fear— Mantine was with her, and she could feel his reassuring presence beside her, him telling her there was nothing to fear with a gentle sing-song cry. As they descended, Mantine's wide, graceful fins carved through the water, propelling them deeper into the ocean's grasp. The light above grew dimmer, the world around them a serene expanse of endless blue. With a soft, almost inaudible hum, Mantine exhaled, and a large, shimmering bubble of air formed around her, drying her instantly. Her mouth felt parched, as did her eyes and skin, but more importantly, Mira could breathe.

The bubble expanded gently, enveloping both Mira and Sarah's entire bodies. Inside, the water receded, replaced by warm, breathable air that filled her lungs with each steady breath. The pressure of the deep sea remained at bay, the bubble acting as a barrier between her and the crushing depths as Mantine went deeper and deeper into the water.

Schools of Goldeen and Magikarp darted past them, curious but unafraid, and she could see the shadowy silhouettes of larger sea creatures in the distance. The outline of a Wailord, illuminated by the few rays of sunlight which ever made it this deep; a pair of Lumineon which glowed like stars within the endless night of the ocean; a Sharpedo prowling at their side until Mantine sent it careening away with a current akin to a strong hurricane.

Mira spoke, but her voice was muffled, unable to be carried toward Sarah's ears. So it had its limits, still. Not that she would often travel with others; Sarah was a solitary trainer at heart. Mantine was a lot faster under the water than in the air, and they zoomed through the ocean so quickly that Mira's bubble of air grew unstable enough to have bits of water touch her arms and face.

But there was no time to worry. They had a sea to cross. And cross it, they did, until Mantine reeled up and jumped up a waterfall.



Back in the day, tradition dictated that anyone who wished to challenge the Elite Four and the Champion must make it through Victory Road. This was before the Conference had been set in place, before the gamification of battles. Make it through here with proof that you'd beaten the other eight Gym Leaders, and you'd get a shot at running the country. It was a tradition taken from Kanto, which had spread to all corners of Shinwa. It had come to Sinnoh through Johtohan immigrants at first, displaced from their homeland by the countless wars between the nascent clans thousands of years ago.

Today, Victory Road was a vestige of what it once had been. Sure, Mira doubted it'd ever been a bustling small town like the Ranger Stations flanking Coronet or at the edge of Eterna Forest, but no one came here anymore save for a chosen few. Even the Pokemon Center was in a state of disrepair, having been shut down a few years prior. Its resplendent orange roof was now chipped, dull orange paint, and had been caved in by a falling boulder from up in the island.

"Huh. That's new," Sarah noted. She stretched with a satisfied moan, arms up in the air as she stared at the caved-in roof. "Guess there was a small landslide."

"...I had a friend who wanted to come here to train to ensure he'd get to the Conference," Mira said. "Well, he's dead now."

"Obviously. No way he would have lived if he was that inexperienced. My condolences." Sarah climbed back on Mantine's wing— the water type was still in the water— and rummaged through one of the large bags on his back. They'd been behind the saddle and protected from getting wet as well. "Let's eat something before we head into the caves."

"No, he— he died in the bombings." It had taken Mira a while to correct her, because this was still a difficult topic to approach. She hadn't even had time to process his death before she'd started running around the region in search of Lauren.

"Oh."

"Yeah. We stopped him from coming here," Mira added. "We saved his life, and he died anyway." Life was ruthless. Sometimes, someone just got unlucky and taken early before they could be great. "I miss him."

They listened to the sound of the waterfall for a little bit. Gallons upon gallons of water coming out from higher up in the mountain. You could see the mist forming at the point of impact with the ocean, rising back up into the sky and dissolving into nothing. The air was moist and humid, clinging to Mira's throat.

Newman grabbed a portable coffee machine. Compact, sleek, and designed for convenience on the go. It was about the size of a large thermos. Next, she grabbed a stove— the same brand that Grace used on the road— and a pack of instant spicy noodles and small chunks of ham. Mira watched her slowly set everything up. Every time she asked if she could help, Sarah would shake her head and grunt. With the press of a button, the coffee machine whirred to life, quietly brewing a rich, aromatic cup of coffee within minutes that Sarah couldn't help but guzzle down. This time, she burned her mouth and yelped, heaving for fresh air that Mantine supplied to her until she recovered.

"'Guess I'll get started on the noodles. You mind spicy food, kid?" she asked, crouching at the stove. She poured some water inside and turned it on. Mira shook her head. "Good, because that's all I have."

What? She only had spicy noodles with ham? Or spicy food in general? The trainer served Mira a bowl first, and she helped herself to her first meal of the day.

Actually, I had you eat breakfast. You were asleep, Mims said.

Second meal of the day, then. Even so, she was famished. The heat spread throughout her mouth— holy fuck, that was spicy. Not just mildly, but possibly the spiciest food Mira had ever eaten. Mira knew she was reinforcing the stereotype that Sinnohans couldn't handle spice, but this was just too much. All of her selves screamed in a panic as she scrambled to drink water from her flask. She downed the entire thing before her mouth got tolerable. Mira glanced down at the orange noodles with a grimace. They tasted good, but would she be able to finish this? Meanwhile, Sarah was slurping them up with metallic chopsticks like they were just your average noodles.

Mims gasped, this is an… assassination attempt. She wants to kill us.

She can't kill us using spicy food! She's just a dick!
Mirabelle whined. And don't you even think about making me deal with all the pain of this! Distribute it equally!

Mira believed what might have happened was that Newman's spice tolerance was so high she'd forgotten what it was like to have a normal mouth. She refilled her water with Mantine's help (she was in no position to complain about where it came from) and slowly started working on getting food in her system. As Mirabelle said, if she distributed the pain, it was at least tolerable enough to eat without a fuss.

Sarah finished her food far before Mira did. Once she did, her finger pressed on one of her Pokeballs, and an amorphous pink blob slumped to the ground with a pathetic gurgle at her side.

Sarah looked at the Ditto writhe on the floor. "Sable, you're on lighting duty today; we're going into Victory Road."

The blob sighed as one, exhaling throughout their entire body. Within three blinks, they were already changed into a Magnemite. Even their eye, which was a Ditto's biggest giveaway during their transformation, was impossible to distinguish from a normal Magnemite. This Ditto was as good as Abel's at transforming into things.

"This is Sable. They don't speak very much, and they won't be annoying, just don't touch them in any way, shape, or form. They don't like it." The Ditto's magnets twirled at their side, and they settled on their trainer's lap, as if to say 'except for you!' They changed again, this time mimicking their trainer's appearance exactly as their legs happily tapped the ground. "If you're going to be heavy, get off my lap," Sarah complained.

Ditto huffed, instead opting to go chat with Mantine. The way they moved their hands instead of speaking— yes, that was sign language, Mira was sure of it.

"Intrigued?" Sarah questioned as she sipped on her coffee.

"Kind of?" Mira admitted.

"The Game Corner had them battle in their fighting rings. They were one of their most famous fighters, with all the transforming and whatnot, and they could trick viewers into thinking another Pokemon was fighting." Sarah gripped her cup tightly. "At some point, Sable just… got tired of it. They just laid down and stopped fighting. They threw them out in a dumpster like they were a broken appliance and not a living being." Her usually deep voice was even lower, almost threatening, until the moment passed and her face lit up again. "I'm glad that place finally shut down."

"So they're a rescue?"

When Sarah just nodded and decided that was the end of the conversation, Mira slowly finished her noodles. Sarah cleaned up their makeshift camp, putting everything back on Mantine, and told the water type to wait for them here and to go eat again if they ever got hungry. She'd brought too much stuff for two people to carry inside a cave.

Then;

She let out her starter.

The Dragalge drifted through the air like a queen in her domain, her movements slow and deliberate. Her dark, kelp-like fronds flowed behind her like a flower, and it pulsated with a bright red. Her dark pupil swiveled toward Mira, and she felt the instinctive need to bow her head. The edges of her body were akin to tough driftwood, still supple enough to bend and flow with the air and water, and if Mira squinted enough, she could see the poison shimmer beneath Dragalge's air sack. Sarah smiled at the poison type, explaining the situation at hand.

"I'd let out Weavile, but you'd pass out," Sarah added, unbothered. "We've trained his Pressure to the highest level."

Mira wanted to say she could handle it, but the truth was, she had no idea if diffusing it between her other selves would work properly or if it'd just hit each of them with the same strength as the Distortion World had, to the point where they had all cowered and left her.

"Fine. If you're sure you can handle the wild Pokemon?" Mira shifted across the ground, clearly nervous as the reality of the situation set in. Sure, she'd been in awful situations before— Solaceon, the raid in Pastoria, Coronet, and beyond— but she still wasn't used to how nervous it made her. "You have more Pokemon, don't you?"

Sarah didn't respond. Instead, the thin woman hoisted her bag on her back and made her way into the cave. Mira hastily followed without a word, as did Dragalge and Ditto. Unlike Coronet, whose entrances were wide, cavernous maws that seemed to whisper in your ear with the wind, Victory Road only had a single entryway, and it was tight. It was almost hidden, a narrow, jagged opening carved into the face of the mountainside. It was no grand gateway, but a dark, winding crevice, just wide enough for a single person to squeeze through, forcing them to turn sideways and duck beneath the rough stone. Sable turned back into a Magnemite and flashed light deep into the corridor, showing that it'd remain this claustrophobic for at least one hundred feet forward. Dragalge, meanwhile, easily fit through the narrow passage, eyes scanning the pathway ahead and with a subtle, turquoise glow around her skin.

At least the ground was even and easy to walk on. Mira slowly pushed herself along the facade, her hands touching the rough, bent stone. The jagged rock jutted out at odd angles, catching the light and casting sharp, shifting shadows that danced upon the walls.

Denzel had told Mira about a first-year who had decided to come train here after her eighth badge, shortly before the bombings. One of the few who'd gotten that far. A certain Marley, whose starter was an Arcanine. Mira figured anyone must have been insane to go here of their own volition, especially if they were that green. Even Sarah had agreed, in Justin's case.

At last, they made it past the tight entrance. Mira sagged against her knees and took a few deep breaths. It had gotten real tight near the end to the point where she could barely take a full breath. The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and salt. With Sable's help, they could see far and wide within Victory Road. Unlike Coronet, this was a cavern of winding paths and ever changing elevation, like it had formed naturally instead of being crafted as a throne.

Pokemon here were not as self-contained to their spots, either. Whereas in Coronet, she would have stumbled on Machop, Geodude, Graveler or similar weaker Pokemon, here in Victory Road, she found Golem, a Machamp, Golbat by the hundred clinging to ceilings and even an Aggron, all spread throughout the cave and screaming at the light brought upon them. Instinctively, Mira released her Alakazam and Gardevoir, who took to their roles easily given that they were used to being released in dangerous situations without context.

"We're just passing through," Sarah tried, unbothered by all the attention.

Few attacked. Most eyes were glued to Dragalge, who simply exhaled and somehow managed to still be threatening. Those that did— the Golem and a group of Golbat— were immediately choked out by poison so thin Mira could barely see it and immediately rendered unconscious. The noxious air had wormed its way up their lungs, making sure they wouldn't even need to breathe to feel its effect. A dozen Golbat rained from the sky, and the Golem fell on its back, eyes rolled up into its head.

"What can you do?" Sarah scratched her head, looking at her Dragalge's work. "I haven't been here in a while, so I guess they were going to attack. Follow."

Mira jogged behind her large strides as she talked to Alakazam and Gardevoir. The latter found herself neatly nestled in her head, spreading a cold feeling through Mira's brain. Here, she could chat with her other selves and get as much attention as she craved. Mia especially was soothed by Gardevoir's company. The feeling diffused into her, and she hung onto the fairy type's arm as they made their way deeper into the cave.

"Usually, you'd train by challenging Pokemon open to a fight. That way, you both get something out of it," Sarah explained. "Things don't always work out that way. Anyway, it's good that you're here, you're going to use your psychics to ask the Pokemon around here if they've seen Lauren."

"Are any open to speak?" Mira asked, looking around. Most had run off when Dragalge had shown off her power.

"I'm sure we'll find one eventually. Knowing Lauren, she's deeper in the cave, anyway. She has eight badges, these Pokemon would challenge her some, but not much. She'll be looking for something harder than this."

So they made their way down, spending hours traveling through Victory Road. Mira knew that if she'd been alone, this experience would have been harrowing and torture, but Sarah's presence made it a walk in the park, save for the tough parts to navigate or climb. Luckily, Pokemon served as a good substitute for climbing gear.

Most Pokemon did not want to give them the time of day, mostly due to Dragalge's menacing presence. It took them nearly a full day to stumble upon a nice Probopass that Gardevoir and Ditto managed to charm, very deep into the cave. Luckily for them, they'd not only stumbled upon the remains of a camping site a few hours earlier, and Probopass had seen a human girl with jet black hair walk through here. In exchange for information, the steel type demanded to test itself against Dragalge, a battle which it handily lost, but Sarah made sure to help him up with potions, at the very least.

They were willing to put off sleep, if it meant finding her faster. Mira punted off her tiredness to her other selves save for Processing, which for once they didn't complain about, and Sarah hadn't slept a wink since they'd met, but the woman seemed to sustain herself off caffeine. Probopass led them deeper into the cave in the direction Lauren had gone in until they made it to a cliff.

It was only when Sable illuminated the area that Mira saw the way forward. A river system continued to another waterfall inside the cave, its splashing audible even from up here. There was only one path that remained— a straight, narrow trail hugged by the cliff and the wall. Probopass made its way back to its home, and they proceeded deeper in. All Mira could do was hope they'd gone in the right direction.

Twenty-eight hours after they'd entered Victory Road, they found her.

Lauren was a mess, as expected. Dirtied clothing, tangled hair, bloodshot eyes, and a face smeared by dirt and dust. She was huddled next to her Sceptile, who was the only Pokemon with her. What caught Mira's eyes was the scarlet red on her hands. Dried blood from wounds in her nails, probably from using them around the cave too much. Not only that, but her glasses were cracked, and one lens was gone entirely.

She had headphones on, meaning she hadn't heard them yet, but Sceptile quickly caught wind of their presence. He warned her by shaking her a little— she seemed catatonic— but after a few attempts, she raised her head and looked at Mira and Sarah. Lauren flinched, nearly deciding to run away right then and there, but she stood her ground when she realized who was there.

A confused "what?" was all the teenager could muster. With a sluggish movement of her legs, she slowly stood up as her eyes narrowed. "What in the world are you doing here?" Her gaze seemed antagonistic, particularly toward Sarah.

Mira looked up at her benefactor, but she shrugged and nudged her forward.

This was her job.

"Thank the Legendaries, you're safe." Mira found herself gasping. Now that she knew Lauren was at least alive, she could at least relax a little. "I've been looking for you all over ever since I came back from Coronet, Lauren. It's not safe for you here—"

"I'm training. Leave." The interruption was sharp and brutal, as if Lauren couldn't afford her a care in the world.

It hurt like hell.

"You're clearly unwell. You've lost weight!" Mira insisted, fists clenching. Her cheekbones were more sunken in than usual. "I'm sorry for your loss, Lauren. I understand what it's like to lose someone close to you. I understand and can help you. But you're hurting yourself. It's time to go home, or you'll miss the ceremony and the funeral—"

Lauren lashed out, face reddening with anger, "I don't want to go there! I don't want to!" Ah. Was she was burying her head in the sand, unwilling to acknowledge that her brother had died. "Nearly all of the people who'll be at the fucking ceremony, they won't have known him! They were just fans! Fakes! They're all using him; he doesn't… he doesn't deserve this," she sobbed, face hidden in her hands.

It was true. Poketch, the government, and many people were going to use Craig's death for their own gain. That was how the world worked. It was unfair, unjust, and miserable, but that was how things went.

But she couldn't say that.

"What about his Pokemon?" Mira softly asked. "What about your parents? They're worried sick about you, and they're all grieving too."

"Roxie…" Lauren muttered. "No. No, get out of my head!" she snapped, wildly gesturing with her hands. "Enough of this."

Damn it. "I won't leave until I get you out of here." Worst case scenario, Sarah would have to do something about this, not that she seemed particularly inclined to. "What can I do to change your mind?"

Lauren's back slowly straightened, and she ground her teeth and hoarsed out a single word. "Battle."

"...what?"

"I was doing well until you showed up. I want nothing to do with you," Mira felt like she'd been stabbed in the heart, "or Sarah Newman, or any of you. You abandoned me, left me alone, and I nearly died to a bomb! And you still won't tell me what really happened in Coronet, I bet!" Lauren's tone rose the more she talked. "You showed up here, so let's battle so you weren't a waste of time."

Disheveled, crass, dirty and standing like she was just so exhausted, yet possessed enough to keep going. Lauren breathed battling, nourished herself through battling, existed through battling, grieved through battling. She was a born fighter, thrashing to free herself of the pain she was continuously feeling at the demise of her brother. Teeth gnashing, hands bleeding, and with every shivering word was enough anger to burn this entire cave to smithereens.

"I'll arbitrate," Sarah said.

Lauren let out some kind of feral, annoyed growl. "Acceptable. Volis, get ready."

Mira nodded, not knowing what to say. She wasn't a full-fledged, committed trainer; she couldn't win. Lauren already had her starter out, the lean Sceptile whose leaves Mira knew were sharp enough to cut through stone. The grass type wasn't wounded at all from his time in Victory Road, and he gave Mira an apologetic stare. He knew what he had to do. Sceptile crouched with a reptilian hiss that grew raspy and pointed the longer it went on. Lauren raised a hand, and he silenced himself as soon as she closed a fist. She tweaked her earphones, and Mira could hear her music blasting from here, reverberating through the cave even through the device. A cacophony of screams right at home with heavy metal.

"This will be," Lauren gasped, "a six-on-six battle with no switches. Send out. Your Pokemon." She gnawed at her overgrown nails, tearing at pieces of it, and Mira flinched when their eyes met.

It was as if she'd been looking at a beast. There was nothing but dark anger at the world in them. A desire to see it all blown apart, piece by piece, for taking Craig away from her. Mira shared a knowing look with her psychics and recalled Alakazam.

She'd forgotten what it meant, to be a trainer.

It was to speak through battle.

"Gardevoir," she rasped out. "You're up."

At once, the fairy said, gliding a few feet ahead.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The constant echo of drops of water, seeping into the ground high above and raining through the cave's ceiling. Everything was so quiet, save for the subtle muffled music, the river and waterfall far below, and Mira's every breath. Sarah raised her arm, and sweat dripped down Mira's neck. Understanding drifted through her, one where all of her selves would have to work together in tandem to not crash and burn and have a chance at mending things.

Then;

She brought it down.

Mira was no full-fledged trainer capable of standing up to the best, but she had a few tricks of her own.

"Nature's Wrath!" Lauren barked out.

When Sceptile howled at the sky, the cave glowed green, pulsating like veins in a body. Vines creaked through the floor, old vegetation that had been hidden away, greedily sucking onto the cave's moisture for sustenance. Mira knew Lauren, and she'd known that she'd start with arguably the strongest move in her arsenal. Every single inch of the cavern hummed, yet Mira had a precious resource to ready herself for what was coming.

Time to think. Nature's Wrath was, at its core, unlike Frenzy Plant due to how it had been adapted specially for Sceptile. It had been a move she'd been working on to fight Candice for her eighth badge, and the mere act provided Sceptile not just thorny plants to batter his opponent with, but a resource to use whenever he was obstructed by the weather.

"Let's reach her heart," Mira whispered. "Lance."

Gardevoir's foot grew hot, bursting in flames as she kicked the floor. Rocks erupted, glowing hot from the fire as they coalesced around a pink baton that grew from the fairy type's hands. They formed into a sharp, elongated pointy end that glowered and vibrated with glamour and psychic energy, along with a counterweight near the end of the shaft for balance.

With a menacing hiss, Sceptile prowled low, jumping forward so quickly he turned into a blur of green and red. Fast. So fast Mira had only seen Grace's Electivire go faster. Her thoughts were quicker, still, but her mouth was a human's. Gardevoir found herself under assault from hundreds of coiling vines bursting from the wall to her right and the floor, yet she cut them apart with a deft move of her lance. With every movement, the weapon emitted a high-pitched, humming sound that had a continuous, oscillating quality, akin to a powerful electrical buzz, and it left trails of light in the air.

It was a distraction. Sceptile was already there. A neon green blade grew from his wrists, and he cut through Gardevoir's robe, bleeding her. It splattered on the walls of the cave, yet the psychic's lance caught fire, and she started dodging. Narrowly, at first, so much so that Sceptile grazed her cheek, arms, legs, and neck with each strike. Her eyes shone with the power of Future Sight, and a slice upward from her lance stabbed into Sceptile's gut, predicting his dodge to the left toward the cliff.

"Mystical Fire!" Mira yelled.

Sceptile caught ablaze; a brilliant torch of blue flame that had spread from the tip of Gardevoir's lance to his entire body. The grass type croaked in pain, but neither the heat nor the stab wound stopped him from moving. His hand went for Gardevoir's throat, sucking her energy with Giga Drain until she managed to Teleport away.

Seeing a second into the future didn't matter if she didn't have time to react.

He's trying to throw you off the cliff, Mira warned Gardevoir. If I have to recall you, you're done.

She was done talking, at least with her. It'd put them at too much of a disadvantage; her mouth was too slow.

The fairy type brushed against her throat, where she found seeds growing around her and feeding Nature's Wrath directly. She attempted to burn them off or rip them off her, but they were attached too well for her to use her hands and they blew up on her head as soon as they burned. Fuck. Gardevoir shook her head, burned and smoking with spores and dust, which sent her into a wild coughing fit. Low powered spores, unlike Roserade or Tangrowth's, but powerful enough to bother her nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Sceptile cut apart one of the vines, regenerating the damage from the burns. Scorched scales turned as good as new, and his eyes snapped open with renewed vigor. Every second, she'd have to strike down another vine bursting from the wall, trying to keep her still by clenching around her ankles or just straight up stabbing her.

"Attack, attack, attack!" Lauren yelled, stomping a foot down. "Don't let them collect themselves!"

Try Psychic to land some hits! Mira thought.

Gardevoir snapped her lance over her knee, dividing it in two, and pink light took over her eyes as another pointed end grew using more rocks from the cave. Sceptile slowed when he got within ten feet due to Psychic, but his momentum carried him enough for him to tackle Gardevoir to the ground. Now on top of her, he once again seized her throat, but the psychic threw half of her lance into the overhang above. The implement lodged itself into the ceiling, creating a spiderweb-like crack that spread throughout the rock until it collapsed on both of them.

With an annoyed grunt, Sceptile turned and brought his hand up. Vines stabbed through the debris that would have fallen on him, keeping the stones afloat, and he finished the job with Gardevoir, throwing her over the cliff—

Until she snapped back to where she'd once been with Teleport, skidding across the rock. Mira's hand had already beelined to her Pokeball, but Gardevoir was a fighter. With half her lance remaining, she commanded the rocks closest to her, snapping them into a hundred weapons to throw at Sceptile.

It didn't matter. He was too fast, too agile, he too easily cut them apart with Leaf Blade, and the few of the moves that hit, he just regenerated using Nature's Wrath. The focus required left Gardevoir open to more hits, and the grass type had nearly rewritten the entire battlefield to his advantage. There was not an inch of ground under his influence without a vine to use, a seed to explode, or spores to unleash. Sceptile was a hit-and-run fighter meant to outlast his opponents, not a Pokemon meant to fight head-on without a plan like her Magmortar.

They were going to lose. We have to go big. The next fighter will use your work as a stepping stone, Mira quickly communicated. Moonblast!

Concentration was not something easy to come by, when fighting Lauren's Sceptile. At times, it seemed like the gecko was everywhere at once. Gardevoir used a few of the rocks at her disposal to turn her pointed lance into a blade. Scaffolding. Mira's sworn knight and protector allowed the blade to grow to twice her size, and it fell upon the ground with the weight of her belief, stabbing through it like butter. Lauren wasn't in the best state of mind to strategize, so Sceptile was still on the attack. With one smooth motion, a push of his leg against one of his vines, he rushed toward Gardevoir in hopes of finishing her off.

The moon materialized, wrapping around her sword. Like steel folded hundreds of times into the sharpest and sturdiest of blades.

She wielded the moon as a weapon. Despite its size, the hilt was slender, elegantly curved, and shimmered with a silver light, as if forged from the purest moonlight. The blade itself was sharp and sleek, its surface a mirror of the night sky, reflecting the stars that dotted the heavens above. Even Sceptile looked unsure of himself for the first time, and the mere energy wafting off the sword was enough to cripple his plants.

Gardevoir was her ace. She would not go down without a fight.

Land a hit, Mira pleaded.

Blade slung over her shoulder—

Gardevoir Teleported inches away from Sceptile with her sword already in motion. He ducked under the blade, but he found himself still gouged by the sliver of power wrought by the cosmos and was sent careening off to the side. He slid against the ground on all fours and threw himself back into the fight, wrist-blades dimming with darkness. Knock Off or Throat Chop? It was masked too well to know. The tip of Gardevoir's sword zapped with lightning that flew in an arc toward Sceptile. With a grin, he jumped and twisted mid-air. He arranged his vines like a rubber band anchored into the ceiling that he used to go so fast Mira barely registered the Throat Chop hitting the back of her Gardevoir's neck.

The knight fell on one knee. Cracks of light appeared along the blade until it dissolved. In that moment of rapture, the blade exploded with untold power that washed over Mira and made her see stars until she blinked them away. Lauren was seemingly in the same boat, rubbing her eyes with a savage grin at her first win. There were no psychic barriers here.

Just fighting.

"Gardevoir is unable to battle," Sarah said, tone finally gripped with interest. "Mira, send out your next Pokemon."

Wiping the sweat off her brow, she had a look at the state of the battlefield. Rocks hung like satellites from the ceiling, and thorny plants littered the entire floor. It was similar to Vine Terrain, but different in the way it served to give Sceptile far more mobility instead of swarming opponents with more vines than they knew what to do with. The hair on her arms stood on end as she racked her brain for an answer.

Exeggcute was a no-go; they were too weak to do anything to Sceptile. Alakazam, she'd rather save for the last leg of the fight as a force multiplier. It'd have to be anyone else.

Like an old-school trainer, Mira threw her next Pokeball up, releasing Magnezone onto the field. His bulk and flight would give him the advantage, and he too, could use fire type attacks from Tri-Attack. Lauren cracked her neck, a sound that the cave carried, and she licked her lips.

"Enough holding back," she decided. "Dragon Dance into Low Kick, let's go!"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! "Reflect and keep your distance! Hit and run!" Mira yelled.

Turquoise light overtook every inch of Sceptile's skin as the grass type allowed himself to come under the influence of draconic energy with a wild, yet short ritualistic dance. Speed that once was at least manageable turned to out of this world. Sceptile flickered in and out of Mira's field of view, each movement creating a veritable storm of leaves that harmed even Magnezone's tough shell. Everything was so confusing; Sceptile was barely visible, camouflaged behind his Leaf Storm. It was so loud she could barely hear herself think, and that was what she was supposed to be good at.

Lauren cackled wildly, her hands tracing the contours of her face, and Sceptile jumped just as the thin layer of reflective light finished coating Magnezone.

He'd used one of his plants as a trampoline. Magnezone fired rays of electricity and fire at him, but he was so fast he was already there before they could fire off. Sceptile used his momentum to carry enough strength in his kick to dent metal. He'd gone so fast in fact that his feet and skin sizzled from the heat born from the friction in the air. Magnezone crashed higher into the ceiling, where he was assaulted by plants and beaten with rocks until he fell to the ground unconscious.

Without future sight and Teleporting, that was where she was left. The gap was too wide to hope to close with her usual tactics. Mira pushed the back of her teeth with her tongue and wondered how in the world she was going to beat this thing? She wasn't a good trainer, all she had were feelings and hope.

Feelings and hope had never won her anything.

"Are you watching me, Craig?" Lauren asked the cave, turning in every direction with each word. "I'll do it. I'll win it in your name!"

Mira never knew shivering in pity was possible, yet she'd done just that. She wanted to win the Conference in her brother's name to carry his legacy, to bring his will over the finish line. She'd given up her individuality for this, as if it would bring her brother back. She had let herself be wounded, lost weight and possibly not slept in days. This was self-harm. Mira shut her eyes to stop the avalanche of tears and recalled her Magnezone.

Focus, every single one of her minds thought. A closer look at Sceptile showed the grass type breathing heavily. Even if he could regenerate faster than they could deal damage, eventually, exhaustion would catch up with him. It had to.

"Oh, shit. I nearly forgot." Sarah scratched the back of her neck. She'd been so interested in the battle she hadn't announced Magnezone being defeated. "Magnezone is unable to battle. Mira, send out your third Pokemon. Gosh."

Mira released Porygon2 next. The digital Pokemon was so small as it hovered in the air. It wasn't specialized for fighting, but Magnezone was and it had done nothing to help. Mira had to think outside the box, if she wanted to claw at least one victory away from Lauren.

"Download!" Mira ordered.

Within the next second, Porygon2 was faster. She'd stolen Sceptile's hastened speed and made it hers. Sceptile crouched on one knee, closing one eye to aim little shurikens toward the normal type, but all he hit was the wall behind her. The little leaves lodged themselves deep into the rock.

Mira continued with haste, "attack mode." Porygon2 continued to avoid every attack like the wind, but something in her eyes changed. Intent. The intent to harm, the intent to fight, the intent to attack. "Conversion into grass."

She shimmered green, and the deed was done. When Sceptile finally landed a hit, having come closer to corner Porygon2, it had minimal effect on her new outer coat of grass TE. Mira ordered for a Lock-On followed by Tri Attack, and the electric, ice and fire beam all converged on Sceptile's chest. The grass type's Dragon Dance was so well-honed that even Porygon2's attacks went faster. However, the Leaf Storm was still raging, and it was difficult to be delusional enough to think they would outlast Sceptile.

Lauren pointed up at Porygon2 "Jump again— Brick Break, this time!"

Sceptile's entire arm turned bright white as the floor bent to accommodate him. In a blur, he propelled himself onto the wall and then had another jump toward Porygon2. Mira knew that Brick Break would have a chance to break past Conversion, yet she was undeterred.

"Glitch through!"

She'd barely had the time to finish that sentence before Sceptile found his hand an inch away from Porygon2. Just before the attack made contact, Porygon2's form began to shimmer and distort, its smooth, angular body breaking into jagged, pixelated fragments. Like a game character phasing through a wall, she made it through the Brick Break unphased and exploded in a burst of ice that clung to Sceptile's scales. The grass type let out an annoyed hiss as it cut into another vine and garnered the scant energy, making efficient use of it to heal himself. A seed exploded on the wall Porygon2 was closest to, a signal to keep away from anywhere Sceptile might influence.

Porygon2 followed up with another Lock-On, eyes narrowing toward her opponent—

"Change of plans," Lauren growled. "Leaf Tornado."

The storm suddenly intensified in a circle around Porygon2, and the normal type struggled to tell where exactly Sceptile was, from the way the Tri Attack went horribly wide and beyond the cliff. The Leaf Tornado was slowly bringing the normal type toward the walls, where Sceptile would be able to use his Nature's Wrath more efficiently to hit her. Even now, the cavern was rumbling with the advent of more vegetation. Was his stamina fucking bottomless?

Once, twice, thrice, Porygon2 tried to break out using a burst of flames, but hers were even weaker than Gardevoir's. She attempted to glitch out of it, but that was like trying to swim against the current in a river. It was just delaying the inevitable. Now close to the wall, Lauren again let Sceptile climb up the same facade. This time, it literally ran along it like it wasn't even affected by gravity, arm glowing with the power of Brick Break.

"Discharge, now!"

The air around her began to hum with a growing intensity, charged with the anticipation of the imminent attack. The hum escalated into a sharp crackle, radiating pulses of electric yellow light that rippled across the cave. Sceptile still managed to easily break through the Conversion, which shattered and crumpled to dust as the Brick Break bore down on Porygon2's back.

That was it, Mira thought as Porygon2 fell to the ground. One clean hit, and they were out. Sceptile landed without a hitch, but when he tried to loosen his muscles again to be ready to dash at anything Mira sent out, electricity coursed through him, making him freeze up for a second until it disappeared.

He was paralyzed.

This was their chance.

"Porygon2 is unable to battle…"

Their chance to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

"...send out your fourth Pokemon."

"Alakazam!" Mira screamed. With a brilliant flash of red, the psychic type appeared right in front of Sceptile. "Battle!"

Alakazam did not have Future Sight, but it was the smartest species on this planet behind Metagross. Countless possibilities lay before him as Sceptile raised his hand and the leaves on his wrist took on a wicked sharpness and an emerald glow. If she'd been able to see his eyes, if his back hadn't been to her, Mira would have seen it within him. Calculating.

Power Trick came first. A subtle glow, a coil of energy within his arms as his muscles bulged large enough to grow to three times their size in an instant. Then, a touch of fire around his fist as one of his spoons moved with a hypnotic bend in his other hand— Kinesis. Sceptile's eyes mellowed as he stared at the spoon, and a fiery punch buried itself deep in the grass type's gut.

He was not finished.

Psychic to pull him in, then another hit. Another psychic, then another hit. Another, another, another, another until his belly was scorched by the touch of fire, blackened to a charred, smoldering crisp.

"Focus on my voice!" Lauren asked, no, demanded. The power in her voice snapped Sceptile out of this loop, and the grass type's tail rustled as bug type energy diffused from the appendage. The endless noise snapped Alakazam from his focus, and Sceptile finally slipped away.

So even if Gardevoir had managed to grab him, he would have had this to get out?

Fuck.

"Transition to speed," Mira muttered. She hadn't needed to; they both saw it was the best move.

What had gone to boost his strength now went to his legs, and Alakazam found himself quick enough to keep up with a usual speedster. While Sceptile was no usual Pokemon, the paralysis would work well to give Alakazam the edge. Spoon sharpened with Psycho Cut, he dashed in and out in an attempt to finish off Sceptile, keeping his contact with the ground at a minimum to narrow the window the grass type had to use Giga Drain through the floor. The only times they managed to hit were when Paralysis sprung to action and made Sceptile freeze for a moment. Combine that with Teleport, and now they were cooking with gas.

His left shoulder.

His right thigh.

His back.

Slowly but surely, Sceptile was getting hit. He tried retaliating with X-Scissor, but Alakazam was faster—

"Now!" Lauren swept her arm with a mad grin.

Mira knew her friend. She only had this particular smile when something was about to explode. She was vindicated when every single area began to swell and grow. Every plant, every vine, every seed expanded like a cancer until they reached critical mass and—

A flash of light. Golden like the sun. The cave walls, lined with jagged rocks and ancient crystals, momentarily turned to blinding white as the energy surged forward. The cave erupted into a violent explosion, shaking its very foundations. The blast wave roared through the cavern, shattering rocks and sending debris flying in all directions. The explosion's roar echoed off the cavern walls, a thunderous sound that reverberated through the tunnels and crevices and amplified the destruction. Smoke and debris filled the air, obscuring Mira's view, but her heart sank for Lauren.

The explosion was massive, and it would have hurt them had Sarah's Ditto not been here. They'd transformed into a Kadabra and shielded both Lauren and Mira. A rock had been hurled right into her face, but it bounced off the barrier like a pillow and fell off the side of the cliff. She heard it land in the river below with a loud splash, followed by the faint, echoing ripples fading into the distance.

So Lauren had made her Sceptile into a beast nearly impossible to take down, and once the situation became untenable, she just blew it up? That was new! She'd really put the wrath in Nature's Wrath. It wasn't even over. The remaining spores and energy all coalesced back on Sceptile's body— no fucking way this was happening. His scales started to shimmer as they began to mend. The cracks gradually filled in, the damaged patches smoothing out and blending back into their original texture. The burnt spots faded, and the scorch marks dissipated as new, healthy scales grew to replace the lost ones.

All the resources they'd gathered from the ground, all the energy they'd stolen from Mira's Pokemon had exploded and reentered Sceptile's body to heal him as if nothing had happened.

Was this thing even beatable? Mira had seen it train and go toe-to-toe with Magmortar, constantly regenerating through his flames, but this was an entirely new level of bullshit. Mira was so out of her depth that it felt like she could barely keep her head above the water. Her ears were still ringing, but the worst of it had also been contained by Sable.

"One last ride, Volis." Lauren almost sounded rabid.

The grass type's chest puffed up, and he took a deep breath. The paralysis was still there, as was the tiredness. Most of it, anyway. Meanwhile, Alakazam had brought up a hasty shield around himself, but it had shattered under the force of the explosion, and he remained on the ground a smoldering heap. Once Sarah had her spiel about Mira sending her next Pokemon, she took a little time to allow the tiredness to set into Sceptile's bones. Her friends often did this, but this was the first time she'd applied it in a fight.

Thirty seconds. The cliffside was utterly destroyed, with only a narrow stretch of ground to fight on. The space between the cliff and the wall had been utterly ravaged, leaving behind a jagged, hollowed-out expanse bent nearly forty-five degrees to the side. Ordinarily, Sceptile would have good footing even here, but not after so many battles fought. Not after so much struggle.

Mira released her Gengar.

A raspy cackle that spewed noxious air wherever he went. Teeth upon teeth, needle-like and unsettling enough to send a chill up Mira's spine, even now. The grin was almost too wide, stretching across too much of his face, and Gengar was transparent enough for Mira to see it through his back. As he floated, the shadowy aura around Gengar pulsed with an unsettling rhythm that carried with it whispers of the dead. The surrounding shadows seemed to respond to Gengar's presence, elongating and shifting in sync with its movements. The gaseous Pokemon looked back at Mira, as if to ask if he could have fun and fight the tired Sceptile.

"Behave; this is a normal battle," Mira warned. "Poison Gas."

With each cough, more of the toxic fumes billowed out of Gengar's mouth. A cold wind swept across the cliffside to carry it toward Sceptile, but the grass type countered with another Leaf Storm. Gengar disappeared, spreading himself thin across the poison until his blood-red eyes popped up right in front of Sceptile, and he bit into the grass type's arm. His teeth turned to a putrid-smelling purple that Mira could distinguish even through the barrier, and Gengar injected poison directly into Sceptile's bloodstream.

The grass type's arm was corroding. Slowly but surely, more and more veins turned to a menacing purple below his scales. Without Nature's Wrath here to be a third set of limbs, Sceptile's influence no longer reached every inch of the battlefield. He was fast, but Gengar could instantly travel through his poison. His Leaf Storm wasn't enough to send all of the poison away when Gengar was continuously producing more.

So they switched strategy.

"Don't lose lying down!" Lauren raged. "Exploding Bullet Seed!"

Combining Seed Bomb and Bullet Seed— a common high level move, yet destructive nonetheless. There was a reason it was so widespread. The force of the explosion would risk Sceptile falling off into oblivion beyond the cliff, but they would do a better job at clearing away the gas. Like a machine gun, seeds came out of Sceptile as he swept his tail, each blowing up in succession. Gengar groaned, and his was a cacophony of pained spirits, but he followed up with a Will-O-Wisp whose flames were solid enough to get through the explosions, and the purple flames entered Sceptile's body with a jubilant scream.

Burned. Paralyzed. Poisoned.

Mira snapped her fingers, and Gengar brought forth the most powerful of Hexes Mira had ever seen. The ghostly energy wrapped around Sceptile like tendrils, ransacking through his body until he was brought to his knees. His body smoked and smelled like burned grass as he slowly slid down the cliff, but Lauren recalled him before he could fall down.

"Sceptile is unable to battle. Lauren, send out your second Pokemon."

Lauren's hands froze above her Pokeballs. Some kind of clarity returned to her eyes behind her broken glasses.

Her starter, her brother's gift, was gone. Unable to fight and unconscious.

It had…

It had an effect.

The thirty seconds passed without Lauren moving an inch.

"I think the battle's over, Mira," Sarah said.

It was. Five Pokemon to take down one of hers, but Lauren had lost the fight on a technicality. Mira's legs felt like jelly, and she was so exhausted she could barely keep walking straight. Arceus, she fucking hated battling. Mira slowly made her way across the thin ledge that remained from their battle. She nearly slipped a few times, but Sable was there to keep her safe.

Lauren looked right at her with a mixture of pain and anger. Her starter, whom she had clearly believed indomitable in this battle, had lost. Just like her brother. She must have believed Craig would always be here, that she'd always be able to chase after him until they finally had a battle where she'd finally surpass him.

Lauren burst into tears as soon as Mira grabbed her. She collapsed into her arms, and Mira gently stroked her back until she started sobbing too. Arceus, she was horribly dirty, but that didn't matter in the moment.

"I'm sorry," Mira said. "I'm so sorry."

Lauren's words were incoherent, but Mira managed to make out an apology of her own. She cried for a good while, finishing long after the adrenaline had drained from Mira's body. Mira knew she was back to being at least functional when she started pushing away from her hug. She'd never been a fan of physical contact, unless it was limited and in specific circumstances like this one.

"Let's go home, now."

Lauren sniffled. "Okay."

Mira was whole again, and she loved this girl so much she thought her heart was going to burst.

"I love you too."

What.

What?

Mira looked up at her friend and saw her usual intense stare, although softened by grief.

Had she said that out loud?

Fucking. Mims.

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, 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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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Chapter 326 - The Funeral
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

CHAPTER 326 - THE FUNERAL

The only memories of a funeral I could conjure were vague blotches and images from when I was a child. If I remembered correctly, one of my father's colleagues in his department had died from some kind of disease, though I had been too young to remember exactly what it was. They had been close enough to be invited, but not close enough for my father to be deeply affected for more than a few days afterward— or maybe dad had just been good at hiding his feelings from his daughter who perpetually needed him. It was lucky, in a way, that I'd never had to go to one. My grandparents on my father's side had both died before I'd met them, and it didn't sound like they'd had the best relationship with him. My grandma on my mom's side was an option, but honestly, I didn't feel like going.

Justin's family had rented out Jubilife's largest cemetery for the day. It was sunny, not at all overcast like it had been the last few days. At the edge of the sprawling cemetery, nestled among ancient oaks and rows of headstones, stood a few wide, white tents. Their heavy canvas flaps swayed gently in the breeze, offering shelter to the mourners gathered beneath their canopy. Food and drinks were offered within as well, though no alcohol from what I had seen.

Justin had a decent number of family members. Unknown uncles, aunts, cousins, and family friends whom I had never met. The attendance was generally around forty people, give or take. Seeing all these people grieve for him made me realize there was a side of him I had never really known. He had family troubles too, but those had largely been ignored after Solaceon, when he had cut off most contact with his dad.

Justin's Pokemon were here as well, as sullen as his closest family members, and all huddled together next to Justin's casket. Even the hard-to-read, stringent Corviknight couldn't bear to see his trainer's coffin. Audino's ears were droopy, and his usual cheerful self was nowhere to be seen. Arcanine kept licking the casket and bumping his nose at the wood as he whined; Ludicolo's hat-like plant was faded and drained of its vibrant green; Toxapex had cried enough to flood a small area they were in, but a hired Natu kept channeling the water away before it could seep into the soil; Krookodile had grieved himself to sleep.

All of his friends had thankfully come by as well. I'd seen Mira over by the tents with Lauren, who had new, slightly rounder glasses instead of her sharp, rectangular ones. Mira's recalling of her adventure to go save her had made my heart beat in excitement, especially the battle near the end. That was the stuff a good story was made of, with a happy ending and everything.

But it was also just… genuinely a good thing, if I took a step back and stopped thinking like a fairy for a moment. With how loyal Lauren's Pokemon were, they most likely would have followed her deeper and deeper into Victory Road until she was seriously hurt or worse.

Denzel was there too, with his mother and father closely supervising him, much to his annoyance. He was confined to a chair, forbidden from moving to avoid straining his back or stretching the skin. It was probably for the best; otherwise, he might have dragged me back into the group. Chase stuck by his side, relentlessly teasing him about being less mobile than a guy in a wheelchair. I overheard a few of the jokes and couldn't help but laugh to myself, but I knew it was important to keep my distance.

The few glances I'd caught of Cecilia made my eyes unconsciously gravitate her way and my legs move in her direction. She'd sequestered herself within the tents with Pauline and Emilia to keep her company, along with Slowking. She'd gotten all of her Pokemon back from the Center and was leaving tomorrow, or even maybe tonight. She hadn't told me.

Hell, even Maeve had come. She'd stuck around with Louis with a dead look in her eyes for a little bit, but was now by herself with her Infernape by her side and Gligar on her head, eating at her hair. I supposed we were both sticking out like sore thumbs.

There was a row of dark chairs arranged near a central aisle where friends and family would gather to listen to further speeches. I'd hastily left after Justin's father had spoken there to thank us for coming, unwilling to be exposed to Cecilia's presence. Here I was, crouching on some grass a ways from any contact and holding a single blade of grass up to Princess' face. The fairy's eyes were sown shut as she groaned in concentration. Her wings vibrated with focus, and pink dust wafted off her fur in small quantities. It was barely enough to notice if you squinted.

The blade of grass was cut in half at its base. Even though the object being lacerated was so fragile, the act of cutting was still loud and clear. A distinct slicing noise reminiscent of a sword drawn from its sheath with a swift, metallic hiss, loud and startling, cutting through the stillness of our isolation and leaving behind a sharp, ringing echo that hung in the air.

"Nice one." I celebrated with a whisper. Before I could keep going, Angel smothered her in vines and squished her cheeks to congratulate her. His new eye was perpetually closed because of its sensitivity to sunlight.

My lips couldn't help but smile when he dragged me closer by the wrist to join in on the hug. Partly soft as a pillow, and partly tough, yet supple. The entire team was nearly reunited; it was only Sunshine left to pick up tomorrow, and we'd all be back together. Angel was wearing a tiny, itty bitty crown of metal atop his head— a concealed Mimi who had jumped for joy at his return. Occasionally he would pat them with a vine, and the steel type would squeal happily in return.

Refocusing my attention on Princess, I noticed she was looking quite smug and proud of herself for cutting the blade of grass. Her chest fur puffed up to make her appear larger, and her wings were neatly folded at her sides. In the days before the funeral, I'd gone back to visit Bella once, and it was an exercise she'd given us reminiscent of the first trick she had attempted to teach Princess with glamour. Whereas before, the goal had been to make the leaf move due to her core Belief being gravity-focused, she had made Princess' goal to cut.

We had Moonblast already, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. I had plenty of ideas workshopped for slicing moves. First, we'd need to get her to consistently work her way up from a leaf to actually useable. Moonblast was somewhat of an implement. A tool that made any fairy using their core Belief far easier. What we were asking of her was essentially like getting her to actually create something out of nothing. Squeezing water out of stone.

"A little too close to the finger, so don't get too carried away." My nails dug into her fur, raking past her skin near her crown. "You could have cut it off, young lady." In her concentration and desperation to slice through the grass, she might have gone a little too hard, even while holding back.

Princess countered by saying that I was the one who'd decided to hold the grass up in the first place, and I told her it was easier for her to focus that way and it'd up her precision. Angel helpfully signed that he could hold it if needed, but what was training without trust in your Pokemon, anyway?

"Here, wanna do another?" Between two fingers, I grabbed another blade of grass, but Princess said she wasn't in the mood anymore and would continue later. "Fair," I said, dropping the grass. "You've done well for today anyway."

I was… a little excited about it, is all. I'd seen how Cynthia's own Togekiss had suppressed his presence in the Distortion World, and that showed there were more ways to use Belief than with merely Moonblast. Bellatrix had known this, but claimed that I would have needed to pay to access such knowledge before that day. Stingy, but fair. I did pay her in stories from Coronet and how the mountain functioned. Thankfully, she gave me a discount.

Ordinarily, I would have had Cass or Honey out, but it was important not to have too many Pokemon bothering the funeral. Plus, Justin's father had hired a few psychics for security. Now that Indigo had pulled through and sent Sinnoh many of their Kadabra, people couldn't get their Pokemon pressed into service anymore. The entire country was starting to breathe a little easier.

I allowed the minutes to pass, watching people mingle from afar while Tangrowth curiously read out the names of the tombstones around us, growing sadder with each one. It was Princess, who gently distracted him by throwing a bit of mud at his side with Ancient Power, though I had to stop her before she upturned the entire cemetery. It was odd to see her having fun in such a gloomy setting, not that she'd cared much for Justin, anyway. Cecilia and dad were the only other humans she cared for. Honey might be saddened— I'd let him out when we were called to the rows of chairs to sit down.

Deciding I'd had enough of standing around, I decided to slowly trudge toward Maeve. She was alone, and I wanted to learn what had been going on with her anyway. She was sitting under the shade of a large tree, face largely emotionless as she flicked her Gligar's face every time he bothered her. Like everyone else today, she was wearing black. A dark-colored knee-length skirt paired with a black jacket over a white blouse. It was surprising she wasn't dying from the heat, especially with Infernape next to her, but Maeve had always struggled with cold. Maybe her tolerance for heat was higher as a result. Her face was still marked by countless faded scars going up, down, and sideways— a lasting and dark reminder of what had happened in Pastoria. They gave her a hardier appearance.

Her expression soured when she saw me and my Pokemon approach. Angel's vine wrapped tighter around my ankle— a sensation I'd missed all too much— and Princess reflexively sneered.

"If I'm bothering you, I'll go." There was no point in talking to someone who didn't want me near them. Since Cecilia had cut things off, I'd begun to think that maybe I was too reliant on people for support, anyway—

A few steps in the dry grass rang out behind me, and then there was a pull at the back of my shirt. "No. I mean, it's fine. I just didn't expect you to talk to me," she said, voice all quiet. By the time I faced her, her eyes were downcast. Now that we were closer, I could see they were puffy and red from crying. "I made a face, didn't I?"

Infernape, who was still below the tree's shade, sat down and looked at me with a curious gaze while he kept Gligar under his armpit like some sort of annoying child.

"Oh. I mean, it's okay," I tried, desperate to rid us of this awkwardness. I found myself scratching my arm that didn't even itch just so my hands would be doing something. "It was just a little… lonely."

"Lonely? You?" Maeve smiled and shook her head. "All of your friends are… wait, I guessed I missed a lot, huh? Did you guys have a falling out?"

"It's just better if I take my distance for the time being while I figure some things out about myself," I explained to resume Emilia's advice. As rude as it may seem, Maeve had always been mildly out of our orbit, so I assumed speaking to her for a while was fine. "How are you holding up? It's been a while."

She had not spoken to us since Coronet, and was keeping her distance even with Louis.

Maeve shrugged. "Doing alright, I guess. I'm kind of like you. Trying to figure out where to go from here."

In the background, the hired DJ changed songs; she was playing a playlist of Justin's favorite. They were mostly low-key songs you could easily study or read to, most of them without lyrics.

"He didn't listen to much music after Solaceon," she continued with a sigh. "I didn't know any of his taste."

"Me neither, admittedly." We were shoulder to shoulder now, watching the small crowd mingle. "It's…"

"Depressing. Every time I go over it in my head, I go, 'I should have asked him this or that,' but I'll never get that time back." Maeve's voice quivered near the end of the sentence.

"Mhm."

In the deepest recesses of my heart, there was pain at that idea. Agonizing, twisting, and desperate to show on my face.

But it was more manageable than yesterday. And that day had been more manageable than the day before it. I believed I was through the hardest parts of processing Justin's death, and as Sunshine's own experience with Kamaile and his team leaving him early, that was okay.

We stayed there for a while, and I mingled with her Pokemon as she did the same with mine. Her Gligar was a curious one, always googly-eyed at anything new. Maeve had to chase him away before he could land me out of fear that he'd rip my dress. Infernape was a lot more normal. He told me he'd long admired Sunshine's prowess at using his frames, and though he had found his own fighting style now, he'd wanted to emulate it for the longest time.

Maeve, meanwhile, got along great with Angel— to be honest, you'd have to be really odd not to like him at least a little bit. Princess warmed up to her a little, but one aspect of raising these kids I rarely noticed was that they were too used to speaking to me as if I were another Pokemon. That meant that Maeve got confused really fast at the flurry of words the Togekiss offered her. Hell, Angel had his own makeshift sign language that didn't adhere to any rules but the things he'd made up.

"You know, I was scouted," Maeve mumbled under her breath. "To join the League and train to be an ACE Trainer."

"Huh— what?" My head whirled toward her so quickly that my neck ached. "When was this?"

Usually, people were often scouted to join the League first, mostly during the Conference where the government would hone in on who would be useful. From what I understood of the system, you basically never went straight to ACE from a normal trainer.

Maeve replied, "after Coronet. They came and spoke to my parents about it and everything, but I still haven't made a decision. They lost a decent amount of people fighting Galactic and are looking to fill out their ranks again. I'd just be a candidate with a bunch of other people some a boot camp; it wouldn't be a sure thing."

"I mean, if— if I hadn't known so much about how horrible being an ACE Trainer was, I would have been super happy for you, Maeve." I gulped, imagining the ruthless training she'd be put through. "But it's a horrible job, even if you don't have to guard a bunch of snotty kids twenty-four-seven. They beat the emotion out of you until you become a tool—"

My mouth stopped. Wasn't that what I wanted?

"I dunno. I killed like a hundred people in Coronet— Pokemon included— and I feel nothing about it. Not an ounce of regret, but not even joy at some sort of revenge or anything." Maeve chewed on her lip. "Just nothing. Like it was just work. Got no dreams, no guilt, no signs of PTSD… apparently, that's rare in people, and it's part of something they seek."

"I understand the 'just work' part." After a while, it was just going through the motions. Like getting frustrated at doing too much homework and just wanting to get through it. And to be honest, while I'd tried not to kill people, it was because I was trying to emulate what a good person would do thanks to Mimi and Maylene. Of course. there was part of me that thought I could fake it until I made it. "You're sixteen, Maeve. You have your whole life ahead of you; this would be seriously rash."

"It would be, wouldn't it?" she agreed. "I've been turning it over in my head for the two weeks and a half we've been out. My parents were fooled by the officers' smooth words and were all in on me joining. My team's good with whatever I do except for my Yanma, but I'm sure she'd come around."

"Maeve… why does it feel like you want to justify doing this? What about Louis?" I turned to see if I could find our friend

"Because it's something I'm good at," she said with a grim smile. "Also, Louis is… he's sweet, but he was just a crush. I'm over it."

"Over it, like…?"

"I confessed to him a few days before Justin died. I figured that if we were going to die fighting Galactic, why the hell not, right?" She laughed bitterly. "He rejected me on the spot. Said he couldn't see himself with anyone after what he'd done to Cecilia and that it wouldn't be right."

Damn. That sounded just like him. "I'm sorry."

"Eh. As I said, I'm over it. Anyway, it's not a sure thing like you think, I still don't know if I'll join or not." Maeve looked up at the clear skies, and wind swept past her mid-length hair. "If I don't, I think I'll join the army, though. I just feel like I need… a fresh start. And structure."

I couldn't help but exhale in relief. She'd nearly thrown her life away. "Good. Look into that. That's a far better prospect than being an ACE, trust me. I've spent hours upon hours with them and they're broken people. They're broken down and molded to what the League wants them to be. You—"

My phone vibrated in my pocket. My stupid brain instantly went for Cece even though that made no sense and she was literally right there.

"You're good under pressure; the army fits your shape," I added as I pulled it out of my pocket. "Of course, you don't have to do either, but it's your decision." Arceus, it was so odd seeing everyone pulling themselves away from the Circuit. Months ago I thought they'd all be going at it for a few years at least. Just like Pauline, I thought she could have gotten eight badges next year.

I'd been about to say something, but forgot what it was when I saw Maylene's text.

"Don't let me bother you," Maeve said. "And thanks for talking with me. I really appreciate it."

She returned under the shade, no doubt waiting for the proceedings to begin, while I scrolled up and entered my phone's password. Princess, the little rascal, tried to pretend she wasn't looking at the screen. Angel pestered her by placing vines in front of her eyes until she nearly cursed him out but stopped herself.

It wasn't like I hadn't heard her cursing. Like Honey, she snuck one in every now and then, just never in front of me. Or Buddy. Or Angel, but that was for entirely different reasons. She just didn't want to sully his innocent ears.

Maylene - Sorry if im bothering u, I just hope the funeral is going okay

Maylene - Im always here if you need to talk, and ill be there tomorrow for craigs ceremony

It was nice of her to check in. The truth was that we hadn't really spoken much since Cecilia and I took our break, and most of that had been relegated to small talk or surface-level stuff. Dry. There was no doubt in my mind that she must have noticed the shift in my eagerness to talk to her, and yet she was still…

"Damn it," I moaned. "This is needed. It's needed." Escape from dependency on any person was my mantra, these days. Angel soothed me by stroking my head, and Princess rubbed her head on my side and chirped worryingly. Mimi decided to jump back on my shoulder for support.

They weren't really hiding anymore; they were just lazy. We'd made the decision yesterday, and Meltan no longer would have to stay disguised.

"Thanks, guys."

It honestly felt like every time I texted her was a battle where I had to choose my words as carefully as possible to not give her any renewed hope. At least it was far easier over the phone than face-to-face. It wasn't like friends couldn't speak for hours about whatever sprang to mind, but she had a crush on me, so distance was warranted. Whereas I might have wanted to answer 'you would never bother me,' for example, I couldn't. Because I knew it was the kind of thing that'd make her heart skip a beat. Every time I needed to know if something would go too far, I'd picture myself and my unrequited crush on Cece. How would I react if Cecilia had said this at the time? It had worked pretty well so far.

I just had to hold on until Cecilia came back, and then I'd let her down easy. Tomorrow would be the hurdle to clear.

Oh. Right, she could see I'd read this and was waiting for an answer.

You - It's going alright. Waiting for the proceedings to start, which should be in thirteen minutes.

You - Thanks for offering your help. I appreciate it.

Maylene - Want to hang out tomorrow?

What the hell?

In one fell swoop, she'd ruined my plans to conveniently avoid her without committing to anything! Now I'd have to deny her instead of being a flake and hoping the world would bend to my desires.

You - Won't you have duties? As a Gym Leader? I wouldn't want to be annoying and waste your time.

Every Gym Leader would be there, after all. They'd have to sit around and do… Gym Leader stuff, surely. Plus, it'd be weird if she was hanging out with someone else and possibly having a good time while people would be sad all around us.

Maylene - cmon. I would never find hanging with u annoying, grace. and after some procedural stuff ill be able to roam freely.

Why was she so forward lately? With an annoyed huff, I gathered my courage and typed up a response.

You - I think it'd be best not to.

There. Right to the point, and without avoiding anything. It was about time I put my money where my mouth was. Maylene started typing, then stopped for a good while. Two minutes, by my count.

Maylene - hey did i do something wrong lately? feels like youve been avoiding me this past week and it kinda hurts

Maylene - and i miss u kinda

Instantly, my bravado collapsed, and I scrambled to give her an answer. Of course, there was no way out of this without hurting her; I'd been stupid to expect anything less. At some point, I would have to stop hiding. Her adding 'kind of' here didn't do anything to hide the strength of what she was feeling. Arceus, I was so stupid. Stupid, foolish, moronic!

You - I'm sorry; I haven't been right to you lately. You're right. Tomorrow we'll talk. I'd rather be in person for this.

I had no choice but to be straight with her, at least to a point. To tell her about the fears of dependency on her. If Cecilia hadn't told me not to reveal the state of our relationship, I would have gone further and spilled everything, but this would be a good start. If I told her how broken I was, how I would latch myself onto her like some kind of parasite and hurt her if she gave me the opportunity, then surely she would understand. She had a good head on her shoulders, but it would be unhealthy for me, and I'd just drag her down with me. I was in no state of mind for this weird thing we had going on.

Maylene - well u just made me super nervous but im still thankful

You - I know that this is a useless statement that most likely won't have any effect on you, but you shouldn't worry. It won't be anything drastic.

Maylene - if thats a lie u better make it up to me, u dork

"I mean, it's not a lie, but I might be wrong. I don't know," I whispered to myself. In my point of view, it'd just be a needed readjustment of our situation, but what about hers? If she took it badly, I'd need to fix it somehow.

You - How would I make it up to you? I'll do anything you ask.

It took Maylene a bit to answer, so I reread my text and realized how awful this sounded in context.

You - I'm so sorry that sounded really bad; I didn't mean it in any creepy way.

Maylene - haha no worries i know.

Maylene - i gotta go back to work. see you tomorrow.

Maylene wasn't one to end a conversation so abruptly, and this was her lunch break! Something I'd told her countless times not to skip with Cecilia until she finally relented. She didn't have to go back to work at all, I had just most likely flustered her enough for her to want out of the conversation.

There was no time to lament my fuck-up. The music ending and people filtering out of the tent meant that the funeral proceedings were about to begin. I recalled Princess and Angel, but kept Mimi on my shoulder while I released Honey out of his ball. The little blob of metal garnered a few odd looks from people wondering what in the world they were, but these were nearly always passing glances at most. This was Justin's day. We all made our way toward the chairs, where I'd been given an assigned seat.

"Funerals are how we say goodbye to the dead," I explained to the steel type with a whisper. "Usually, in most of Sinnoh, people are buried underground. Justin's going to be burned after this, though. Like in the Iron Islands." Only Louis and his family would be able to see it done. Mostly, Mimi seemed intrigued by an island being named after iron. "How did your people do it?"

If I understood correctly, they answered with something about being wrapped with thin sheets of metal and then being encased in a sarcophagus. That kind of sounded like treatment only a monarch would get, but I doubted Meltan knew much about the common folk in Lakhutia.

Luckily for us, my seat was a ways away from Cecilia. Louis probably had something to do with this, or perhaps Emilia. She'd helped with some of the funeral as well. I was sitting next to a pair of older gentlemen at the edge of the row of chairs so Honey could stand next to me. One of them was crying and continuously patting his eyes with a colorful handkerchief. They spoke to each other in whispers, reminiscing about how Justin had been a good kid and how he'd been taken from them too soon.

Albert Gardner took to the small podium wearing a dark suit and tie. Elegant, yet simple. It was my first time seeing the man in person, and it was remarkable how much he looked like Justin. He was tall and lanky, shoulders hunched over like he hated being here, hands gripping the sides of his lectern until his knuckles turned white. He wore his hair in a neat, old-fashioned combover, and the way he cleared his throat as he slipped his finger between his neck and collar gave the impression of someone being more comfortable on his own in labs than a man who'd give a speech to people.

Justin's father awkwardly scratched the side of his ear and patted the sides of his suit. "Thank you all for—" The microphone peaked, and the uncomfortable sound spread throughout the audience. Albert clicked his tongue and tapped on the microphone with his finger a few times. "Thank you all for being here today. And a special thank you to Louis Bianchi for helping me put all of this together. Justin was lucky to have you as a friend."

We all politely clapped for a few seconds, and while I couldn't see Louis from where I was sitting, it was easy to imagine him looking around all embarrassed.

Albert's hand rested on Justin's coffin. "It's said that the relationship between a father and his son is one of the most profound and lasting bonds in life." He exhaled, fingers gone limp against the wood. "I was… not a very good father."

He allowed the words to sit with us before continuing.

"I was preoccupied with my research and the company. I didn't give my son the attention, love, and care he deserved. I made him go on this journey for monetary reasons, and because of that, Solaceon changed him down to the way he thought about things." Albert turned toward the coffin. "It might be too late to say this now, son, but I'm sorry, and I love you. I've always loved you."

Honey, as soft-hearted as he was, was tearing up already. I was too. It was echoes in time like these that really got to me. I reminisced about our time in Eterna Forest where Justin lay depressed and defeated, sitting on a fallen log of wood, asking himself if his father had ever loved him.

I hoped he was seeing this.

"I apologize," Albert sniffled into the microphone. "I've never been that great at public speaking. My son was— my son was a shy little boy, as I was and still remain in many ways. Restrained and scared of opening up to people. But he was good, he was kind, and most of all, he was passionate, whether that was in his friendships or his career. I remember it like it was yesterday, when he came up and bugged me about everything Pherzen could be doing differently, more efficiently, or what we could do to save costs. He was a real businessman at heart, even as a young child…"

Albert's speech continued for around ten minutes, with each word coming out growing more and more confident, yet somehow wracked with regret all the same. He talked about how proud he was that his son had gotten so many badges in his first year, and how he believed he might have gotten all eight should Galactic not have taken Justin away so early. He talked about stories of him as a child struggling to speak to people at school, and him overcoming that. He talked about his life, struggles and how he so wished he could have been better to Justin every step of the way.

The applause that rang out was thunderous when he was done. So loud it made my hearing aid go into a feedback loop that turned into a loud, high-pitched screech.

More family members went next. The crying old man next to me had been his grandfather and mostly focused on Justin as a kid, especially with how he'd spoil him with gifts and snacks when his father wasn't looking. A cousin in his early twenties spoke about how he'd answer so many questions about business when Albert was too busy. A middle-aged woman not in the family talked about how polite and well-spoken he was whenever they met at galas, fundraisers, parties, or whatever gatherings. It all went on for an hour— a beautiful elegy of Justin's life, filling in the blanks and coloring the person who I had been so happy to call one of my closest friends.

But then, at last, it was Louis' turn to speak. He made a point to have all of Justin's Pokemon behind him, and I saw a new facet of my friend just then. No, perhaps not a new one. An older Louis which had been buried for months. He carried himself confidently, his shoulders squared and his gaze steady as it passed over the crowd as if he had finally shed the weight of doubt that had shadowed him for so long. The familiar fire in his eyes that had once been a mark of his endless ego now was tempered and matured. Louis the boy had grown into a man.

"Justin was my best friend."

To me and to my friends, this wasn't surprising, but to the others? To the people who hadn't been with us this past year? They knew Louis Bianchi as a selfish manchild who couldn't see beyond his own nose and who wouldn't give a quiet kid like Justin the light of day unless it was to make himself shine brighter.

He slowly arranged his tie and inclined his head among the doubting crowd. "It took me a while to realize it— until the Darkest Day struck and he left, and I realized what his absence meant— but he was. He centered me in my immature days, and because of that, I vowed to bring him home after the Darkest Day."

He'd succeeded in Sunyshore after a battle where his newly evolved Vespiquen had nearly drowned Corviknight in honey. Yet the steel type, stalwart behind Louis, did not react negatively to memories of the fight.

"He was out getting a book for me when the bombs took him from all of us," Louis said, still somehow calm. "And for that, I apologize to you, his family and friends." I heard Audino cry out behind him, his little voice picked up by the microphone telling Louis it wasn't his fault. "I have been haunted day and night by 'what ifs', and while I have forgiven myself, I don't think I'll ever shake that little nagging feeling in my head. The little voice telling me that things could have been different."

He swallowed, wavering for the first time, and took a deep breath.

"I was not a great friend to Justin the majority of the time I knew him. I met him at a gala, the sort you're all very familiar with. I was loud, boisterous, and dragged him wherever I wanted. I was nine and he was seven years old, and I could tell he admired my outgoing nature. Yet I made unwarranted jokes at his expense to make myself feel better, made fun of him for being so quiet, and still, he stuck around. It wasn't until this year, through many of our shared experiences, that I realized how flawed I was."

It was easy to forget how he'd behaved when I'd first met him. Louis outstretched his hands and smiled thinly.

"Yet we are all born flawed beings, and we either grow or get worse as we age. I believe that without Justin in my life, I would have grown up much worse if you can even believe that." There were a few chuckles in the crowd at the self-deprecating humor. "My friends were instrumental at getting my head out of the sand I had buried it into," he glanced my way, then Cecilia's, Denzel's and at the others, "but Justin was my first genuine friendship, the first step out of that hole. He was also the last." He looked at the coffin with a fond smile. "Thank you for everything, my friend, and may we see each other again one day."

He was done.

There was another round of clapping, and Honey patted me on the shoulder as if to say it was going to be okay.

We'd sent him off well, hadn't we?



Justin's casket was available for viewing by the public after the speeches. It had been moved to one of the wide tents because of how hot it was out. Summer was in full swing, and it was 28 degrees Celsius. Cecilia probably would have laughed about how that wasn't hot at all, actually. Legendaries, I missed her.

It was carved from rich, darker wood that gleamed with a strange luster. Along the edges, intricate floral motifs were delicately etched, each petal and leaf rendered with meticulous detail. I was pretty sure that all of them were different. I had to hold on to Meltan because they wanted to look at the metallic hinges on the casket. Their little head was poking out of my dress. Usually, it'd be open for viewing, and people would be able to say their goodbyes. Instead, there were numerous pictures of Justin from his time as a baby in his mother's hands a few hours after his birth to the present.

"They must have paid a fuck ton for this, huh?" Chase spoke next to me in a melancholic tone. His voice had nearly made me jump. "Do you think he's happy?"

I shrugged. "I think we did all we could. I hope he is."

Chase rolled a little closer to the coffin and nudged his chin toward one of the pictures. "What's this one? First day at school?"

Little Justin looked like he'd been crying until he'd run out of tears, and he was being led by the hand of one of his attendants with a backpack full of Growlithe motifs and other canine Pokemon on it. Rockruff, Lillipup, Yamper— just the conventionally cute ones.

"I think so," I said. "Must have been a hell of a day, huh? What about this? Tenth birthday?"

The next one; a slightly older Justin surrounded by people and family.

"Sure, it makes sense with the amount of candles. He looks… not that happy." Chase squinted at the picture. "I guess it's because there were too many people there."

"Or maybe the cake was— you know what, your reason makes more sense."

Chase could only muster an incredulous expression as he looked up at me. "Were you about to say the cake was bad?"

"N—no."

I didn't know why we got into this conversation. He'd just come up behind me and begun to talk without any goal in mind, but his presence was a welcome one anyway. We stayed and went through nearly every picture until Cecilia and Louis barged into the tent. The way both froze, they'd had no idea I was in here. Seconds seemed to endlessly stretch until Chase groaned and yelled to garner our attention.

"Come the fuck on, what is this wishy-washy shit? You're on a break, not sworn enemies who can't even be in the same room. Now stop being weird. Not at my boy's funeral. Louis, say something."

"Right. Right." Louis nodded, then ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Neither of you need to leave, you can just look at the casket and the pictures together, if need be."

My eyes felt dry. I'd forgotten to blink. "R—right," I agreed. "Feel free to… do whatever it is you're doing." I love you, please take me back. My heart was nearly leaping out of my throat, like it used to when we'd first met and I'd been helplessly crushing on her. "I was going to leave soon, anyway."

Chase clicked his tongue.

"What?! It's the truth!" I pinched his shoulder until he yelped and nearly jumped out of his chair. "Asshole. My dad's coming to pick me up at four. That's in…" I looked at my phone, "twenty. He's already sent me a text. Apparently, traffic is really bad."

"Well, Jubilife is synonymous with traffic," Louis said.

"I could ruin the vibes and start trauma dumping about how the Iron Islanders wish all they had to worry about was traffic," Chase joked.

"You've effectively done so already," Louis snarked. "Anyway, if I don't see you again, thank you for coming, Grace."

We shared a short hug, and I just… nodded at Cecilia. She did the same for me, though she itched her neck when I looked at her like I was giving her an allergic reaction. Not even close to back to normal, huh? On the way out, I told Louis to talk to Albert about Ditto cell research for humans. To this day, the topic was what Justin had been the most passionate about, and it'd be nice if his father could realize his dream, even if it was post-mortem.

I swung by to tell the others goodbye, too. Denzel (his mother kept sneering at me with disgust like I was a blister on her son's life), Pauline, Emilia, Maeve, Mira, and Lauren. There was something off about the last two, like they were more nervous around each other than usual. The final thing I did was speak to Justin's team to thank them for being here for him until the end and to ask them of their intentions. They fully agreed to be under Louis' care from now on, but it would take until his sanctuary opened that they'd be legally owned by his 'business'. Until then, they'd be Albert's.

As soon as he got there, I entered the front seat of my dad's car and put the seat all the way down. He smiled at me, staring as if he was just happy to see me, and in a way, I supposed he was. It was too bad that other than Mimi, none of my Pokemon could ride in the car. It was small and ergonomic. One of those cheap, local Sinnohan cars that basically lasted forever, unlike those expensive Galarian ones.

"How were things, kiddo?"

"Actually good," I said. "It was… closure for everyone." Things could also have gone far worse with Cecilia than they had.

Dad shook his head as he turned on his signals. "What a waste. All this death." A sigh took him. He didn't know Justin, but anyone would react that way to a sixteen-year-old dying. And Justin hadn't been the only one. "I'm glad things went well for you. Do you want to stop and grab some ice cream on the way home? Milkshake?"

"Milkshake sounds good, thanks."

"I'm guessing fries as well, then. Two Larges."

I snorted. "Yup. I haven't eaten yet."

We ended up spending a lot more time out than originally planned, first to grab a bite to eat since I had left the funeral with an empty stomach, and then to stop by a park to let my Pokemon hang out a little bit. Angel was in his own personal heaven, getting all of the attention, and a few children had stopped around Mimi to see what Pokemon they were. Buddy was thankfully keeping a careful watch.

"I found a good piano place; it has a bunch of people your age as well for the summer," dad said, his arm wrapped around my shoulder. "Still okay with that?"

"Sure, when do I start?"

"The day after tomorrow." He sipped on a can of beer and let out a satisfied sigh. "And for your therapist— that's the day after that. And don't worry, I'll pay."

Huh. It must have shown on my face that I'd been about to say something. "Thanks." At least I'd be able to talk to someone for this co-dependency stuff. Or just a risk of dependency from me, in Maylene's case. That was a relatively normal issue to have. "I guess… I should tell you something."

He frowned, worried about what to expect. "What is it?"

"Cecilia and I are on a break. Long story short, we've been through too much together and never learned to disconnect. We need to learn how to live on our own from now on. That's it."

"Ah. I can tell you don't want to talk about it, so thank you for telling me." He stroked the hair on my head, and I leaned into the touch. "Breaks are… tough, but I've never been in a situation like yours. I hope things work out for you two, you were cute together. Remember when we baked poffins?"

Warmth filled me. "Yeah! That was so much fun…"

"Don't look so down. We'll do it again someday."

"I hope so too," I whispered and leaned forward, supporting my head in my palm. "You know, sometimes I wonder how in the world did I manage being so alone all the time?"

"You had friends…" he tried.

"Dad, I think that's the first time you've tried to insinuate the amount of social interaction I had was fine." I rolled my eyes at him, and he mimicked me as a fun jab. "Ha. Ha. Very funny. Anyway, Lynn and Clarissa don't count."

They'd tried to contact me and my dad, back when I'd gone back to Jubilife to deal with Poketch politics. I'd refused to meet them. Honestly, lately I might have said yes, but I figured it was too awkward to bring it back up when I'd said no the first time. Most of what I did was follow them around anyway; I was kind of like an adopted pet more than anything.

Oh yeah. Lynn had been my second crush ever, too. The one who'd made me realize that maybe having liked two girls meant I was gay. Even if it went nowhere, and by the time school was over, it had long faded into an old memory, but it was because of her that I'd come out to my dad, so I was thankful anyway.

"I don't know, I could spend hours in my room browsing the forums or watching battles, or in the living room watching TV, and I wouldn't care for anything else," I continued. My teeth clamped down on my bottom lip hard. I hadn't cared that Clarissa and the others hung out outside of school without me at all, except when Lynn was here. "I guess you never know what you have until it's gone."

I had to yell at Sweetheart to quiet down when she demanded Angel's attention away from the others, and a dozen vines wrapped around the Tyranitar to soothe her.

"You're doing okay," he tried. "Putting one foot in front of the other without tripping."

A silent laugh escaped me. He only said that because he didn't know what was going on inside my head. "Yeah. I guess lately I wish I could go back to that state of mind. It'd make the next few…" weeks? months? Probably months, "months a lot easier, if we even get back together."

"Come on, Grace. No matter how bad things are now— no, maybe that's a bad way of phrasing it." He'd always been careful with words. He was the kind of person who liked to gather his thoughts in his head before talking in a debate or an argument. I'd gotten more of my mother's side in that regard. "Look, if we see relationships and your dependence on them as some sort of slider— which is certainly not how those work, but I'll humor you— then you don't run back to one extreme because you've gone too far the other way. There's a middle ground you can strike."

"I know, I know. I was just brooding."

"Won't let you brood on my watch." He messed up my hair.

"Dad! I spent so long fixing that for the funeral! Ugh!"

I started jabbing him in the stomach until he dropped his beer can in the grass.

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, 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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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Chapter 327 - The Ceremony
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

CHAPTER 327 - THE CEREMONY

"We should have gone on foot," my dad complained.

Even for Jubilife, the amount of cars on the road was extreme. We'd moved three blocks in the last thirty minutes because of the sheer amount of people who were going to Craig's ceremony. The event was set to take place in and around Poketch Headquarters because they were paying for most of the event at a time when the government had to pinch every penny. Luckily since I was a sponsee and I knew a lot of people, I'd be able to access and move throughout the actual building, which was open only to a select few.

Ugh. That kind of sounded elitist, didn't it?

"You can always pay for parking, and we can walk the rest of the way," I suggested.

He scanned the surroundings and shook his head. "Nope. No parking spaces anywhere, we'll have to wait until we get to Poketch." As an employee, he had a special parking spot reserved for him below ground. It would just take a while to get here.

"Good thing we left so early, then," I said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him smile. "Only after I told you to finish getting ready for the millionth time."

"I didn't take any longer than yesterday! Now you're just being annoying on purpose."

I was wearing the exact same black knee-length dress, though I'd styled my hair in waves instead of straight like yesterday. My finger felt strangely naked without my ring, but I'd never worn much jewelry anyway save for Mimi. Not like I could wear a couple's ring without being in a couple, even if it hurt. Speaking of them, Mimi was sitting on the car's dashboard and was enthralled by how the car moved and responded to dad's steering wheel.

"I'm just joshin' ya," he said.

"I know. Sorry."

Dad glanced my way with a worried look. "Come on, no need to apologize."

He was also going to be at the ceremony, and as an employee, he would also be allowed inside. I was glad he was going to be there; I had learned yesterday that even if he couldn't understand or know what I'd been through, he was a soothing presence for me. As it turned out, I had been mostly wrong. So long as he didn't press me on anything, he was essential in returning to a sense of normalcy. I'd missed these times. Back when I used to be a normal kid.

I leaned against the car window and sighed. Sweat permeated through my palms. It was difficult not to be nervous about this event, especially when such a difficult conversation was coming up. The nightmare I'd gotten last night about me making Maylene run away crying certainly didn't help. Hopefully, I'd get through to her clearly and without causing some kind of disaster.

"You look anxious, kiddo," he noticed, looking at me. "What's wrong?"

It took me a few seconds to find an excuse. "Well, I knew him, you know? Craig…"

"Don't lie to your dad, now," he said in a tone dripping with concern. "You—" he stopped when someone suddenly merged into his lane without any turn signals. "Legendaries, you won't get there any faster," dad complained. I watched him as his eyes narrowed, likely passing silent judgment on the driver of the oversized Unovan car. He was probably thinking about how someone who drove one of those huge Unovan cars must have been an asshole. It wouldn't be the first time. "Anyway," he resumed, his tone softening as he glanced at me again, "you don't have to tell me if you're not ready, Grace. I'm just worried about you."

"It's fine," I sighed. "I guess I'm meeting a friend."

"Isn't that a good thing? Who is it, one of your co-workers?" he asked. "That Bobby kid who undermined you?"

"No, no, it has nothing to do with Poketch." My head turned even further away from him in embarrassment. "It's a Gym Leader. Maylene Suzuki."

"You're… friends?" Dad had seen our Gym Battle, and while he hadn't said anything of its brutality, he knew how strange the concept that we'd ever get along was. "That's surprising." He nudged the side of my arm. "Look at you, making more friends in high places."

"Focus on the road," I groaned. "Anyway, we're going to have a really tough conversation, and it's going to suck. That's it."

"Ah. Well, I hope it goes well between you two. Want me to be there?"

"Absolutely not!" While I appreciated him not digging to figure out what was going to be said, I couldn't help but snap, already imagining that misunderstanding waiting to happen. "I'll handle it, you just go do your thing. Whatever that is!"

Dad laughed. "I wasn't going to actually listen in, just be close in case it went wrong."

He had told me that he'd be with some of his co-workers. Some men and women I only knew by name, but who had apparently been cheering for me during the Circuit. I'd been a big hit in their department because I was his kid, and he was pretty well-liked. It was mildly embarrassing to imagine him touting my every win like I was the second coming of Cynthia, but dad had long prided himself as my biggest fan.

It took us another hour to get to Poketch. On our way to the parking garage, we slowly drove next to the building, which meant I saw how it had all been set up. The outside was full of people swarming in, giving their tickets to get past both League and private Poketch security. I even saw some men in Kanto-Johto uniforms. Unlike the dull orange— almost brown— Sinnoh had adopted, theirs was a mess of greens and khakis. Tickets to the ceremony were not free (the country had to make its money back somehow), but it was cheap enough to have thousands of people swarming in. With the amount of people coming in, I was certain they were sold out.

Around the Poketch Building had usually been an empty stretch of concrete pathways framed by minimalist vegetation that guided visitors through the space in a way that was reminiscent of Veilstone. While that hadn't changed much save for a little bit more greenery around the edges to appear more presentable, more benches and chairs than I could count had been added around the space, all facing toward a podium adorned with the Sinnohan flag gleaming in the sun. Maylene had told me that was where the Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and Champion would sit. It'd be my first time seeing Cynthia again, and I sincerely hoped she was doing alright. She probably was, given that the country hadn't collapsed in on itself. Behind the podium was a huge projector screen on which I assumed they would show pictures or videos of Craig. We could hear the anthem softly playing through the slightly-opened windows of the car.

"They went all patriotic for this one," dad said with a touch of sarcasm. "Kind of funny, considering you've got people from Kanto-Johto here."

That statement made me raise an eyebrow. Dad usually wasn't one to get political, or at least not with me. I knew the basis of his beliefs, though. Mostly, he despised dictatorships or authoritarianism of any kind, which was why the presence of the Indigoan army in the streets of the city he was born in made him so uneasy.

"I know how it looks, but it's a good thing. Without them, we'd be in a much worse spot. They gave us money, Teleporters, medicine, hospital beds—"

He cut me off. "I know, I know." A sigh escaped him, heavy enough for me to notice his chest visibly sink. "I just fear for the future."

That was something I couldn't fault him for. Even Jasmine had told me that they hadn't done this only out of the kindness of their hearts. While she was here, she'd most likely be too busy to see me. She'd told me that while she'd wanted to speak due to becoming good friends with Craig this year, the League had refused her request. The optics were already bad; they wouldn't make it worse with having a foreign speaker at an event meant for Sinnohans and to celebrate a Sinnohan life. Personally, I didn't care, but that was how the world worked. Jasmine wasn't too bitter about it.

I was just starting to take note of the food and drinks they were offering when the car eased into a tunnel and descended into the parking area. Dad noted how even this place was unusually full as he neatly guided the car to its spot. Before I got out, I decided to text Maylene and the rest of my friends about my arrival. Save for Cecilia, who was gone; Maeve, who hadn't bothered to come; and Chase, who'd said he didn't want to watch the government waste so much money on a party for rich people, they were all here. Even Denzel. I'd made note of a few other acquaintances I knew who would be here by scouring the net, such as Professor Rowan, Dawn, Lucas, and Barry. Hell, some famous people I didn't even know were here, too. Buck— Flint's younger brother— had interrupted his work on the Battle Frontier to get here. One of Sinnoh's most mysterious figures and few aura users, Riley Ansson, was somewhere here as well. The same man Beast had tried to kill and been beaten back by on the Iron Islands. If you were anybody at all, this ceremony was the place to be.

I wasn't sure I was going to see much of my friends, considering they weren't allowed inside. While I was going to go out there when Cynthia and the other important people gave their speeches, there was no way I'd go out there in this massive crowd. I needed the relative quiet to focus. Last night, I had rehearsed the way the conversation with Maylene would go so many times it was still ringing in my head. I had backups too. So long as the conversation didn't derail too much…

"Getting out?" Dad loomed over the car with his hand on the hood.

"Y—yeah." I scooped Mimi up in my arms, and the steel type decided to turn into a looser choker resting on my collarbone. "You all set up?" I whispered. When they vibrated, we finally got going toward the elevators.

Even if the underground was relatively free of people, there were plenty here, either taking refuge from the hordes outside or inside Poketch Headquarters or just making their way up just like we were. Once we got to the elevators (and they took years to get here), I noticed that they'd put a plaque on the wall saying they had blocked basically every single floor unless you were high up in the company. Melody had brought a keycard to our apartment the other day to access the private elevators that would bring me up. For now, though, we stopped at the ground floor.

Even in here, with only employees and close associates, there was a sea of people. Thankfully, it was far easier to navigate, and there were plenty of areas with fewer people around all over this floor.

"I wonder if there's going to be overflow issues," dad pondered. "Are you gonna be alright?"

He'd grabbed my hand out of habit. Even now, he still had his old instincts of not letting me get too far away from him in crowds. When he noticed, he let go with an apologetic nod.

"I'm gonna be okay; I'll just go upstairs." My eyes kept glancing left and right, as if I'd be accosted by Maylene any second now, but I already knew where she'd be. Backstage, waiting for the speeches to begin. After that, we were supposed to meet right around here. "What about you? Gonna get lost?" I teased, trying to cheer myself up.

He snorted. "Think you're slick, eh?" He hovered his hand up over my hair, as if to threaten he'd mess it up like yesterday, and I nearly jumped out of the way. With another laugh, he added, "see you later, kid. Remember, I'm just a phone call away if you need it."

I waved at him until he disappeared into the crowd, and now the reality of the situation was really setting in. Checking my phone again, Maylene had answered with a cute thumbs-up sticker of a Ducklett. Was she not nervous like I was? That answer didn't really give the vibe of someone who was anxious. Why did it even matter if she was or not? It wouldn't change anything, anyway. What I needed to say would remain the same.

Maybe micro analyzing texting patterns wasn't the right idea to get my mind off things.

After calming down with a few deep breaths, I made my way toward the next set of elevators deeper into the building. The floors had recently been cleaned and were so sleek you could see your reflection in the dark tiles. You had to go through another layer of security, whom you had to show your pass to. I fumbled around my purse, feeling around my Pokeballs for reassurance that they were still there before I pulled out the keycard. It was odd, not having them around my waist. Plus, dresses were nice, but this one having no pockets to shove my stuff into was really annoying.

Mel had told me there would be a lounge of some sort on the 21st floor of Jubilee Tower, so that's where I was headed. It took me a while to figure out what room HEC1229 was, it was nothing a few minutes of searching and asking around didn't fix. The room had been filled with snacks like chips, cookies and charcuterie, and with drinks including champagne. It felt weird to me that this entire thing felt more like a party than someplace to mourn; I hoped Craig's family wouldn't be too offended.

Across the room were plenty of sponsored trainers I only knew by name, or I'd seen their faces on the website. There were also people familiar to me, like Bobby, Ramon, and Sharon. Even Aubri was with them, which meant the sky must have been falling. Just like me, they were all dressed like this was a funeral. Dark colors without too much flashiness, save for a golden watch around Bobby's wrist. They'd all been close to Craig— closer than even me. Aubri, in particular, still seemed utterly destroyed by his death and was quiet, her usual stoic confidence vaporized from her face. Aside from the numerous scars and the missing fingers and eye, you'd think she was a different person.

They seemed to be engrossed in some deep conversation, or at least that was until Ramon noticed me grab a bottle of water and I was met with his toothy, juvenile grin.

"Grace!" He waved and beamed as if he was genuinely happy to see me. Wait, maybe he was. We were kind of friends, and it had been a while. "Come over here and sit with us!"

Right. Right. Socializing. Okay, Grace, you're a person. You're just a person just like them. You can do this.

"H—hi!"

My voice cracked.



For what felt like the thousandth time, Maylene peeked her head around the wall of the stage entrance and scanned the sea of people ahead of her. Even as a Gym Leader, she'd never fathomed being in front of so many. This was a big jump from a few self-contained press conferences and doing her job in front of a few hundred to a few thousand at best when the battle was really interesting. Even if she wasn't a designated speaker and all she'd have to do was stand or sit respectfully at appropriate times, it was still a little intimidating. Not that this was her main concern at the moment. Maylene's suit felt a little tight around the neck, and she couldn't help but loosen her collar every minute.

"Didn't you say she'd be inside?" Gardenia's voice rang out behind her and made her jump a little. All of her fellow Gym Leaders were backstage with her. The Elite Four and Cynthia would arrive later, though she'd been informed the latter was taking a thirty-minute power nap, at the moment. She was being worked to the bone. "You poking your head out like that kind of makes us look unprofessional. Today's all about image."

Maylene straightened her suit around her waist and fixed up her tie. "I can't help but look anyway."

"Even if she was out here, you wouldn't be able to find her in the crowd no matter how good your eyesight is, Maymay." Nia wrapped a hand around her shoulder and dragged her back in. "Now come on, have some patience. I said I'd help you, right?"

"Yeah…" she trailed off. "And I'd be able to find her aura, it's very distinct." That might have been the wrong way to put it. "Or I guess I just know what it feels like by heart now."

"Oooh, how romantic," Gardenia teased.

Maylene growled in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. "Nia. Not so loud!" She was still the only Gym Leader who knew about Grace.

They were back in the waiting room with their colleagues now. It had been built up in the last few weeks as a luxurious retreat, adorned with plush seating, soft ambient lighting, and plenty of drinks and food. Even the ground below their feet was velvet carpet. Poketch must have splurged so much money on today that the League was going to owe them a huge favor. There were conversations happening all around, but they were all respectfully quiet. Even Wake. He was speaking to Fantina about the state of Hearthome and listening to her vent about retirement as she sipped on some champagne. While her Pokemon were hidden well from the naked eye and exuded no cold, Maylene easily parsed through her shadow and noticed the multiple ghosts hidden within.

Byron was sitting with Roark in silence. His usually wild hair was neatly combed, a stark contrast to his typically disheveled appearance. Even here, he had his trusted shovel with him leaning against his leg. He asked his son if he was doing alright, and Roark just nodded as he nervously adjusted his glasses.

Since Volkner's social battery had run out long ago, he was just lying down on one of the couches, not caring about his suit getting all wrinkled. Plus, today was a bit of a double-whammy for him. Not only had he been close friends with Craig, but he was also sulking about breaking up with Jasmine.

She'd come to talk to him earlier, and they had parted ways amicably. They'd both known this would happen eventually, but it had been earlier than he thought it'd be. Maylene remembered how he would look so pleased at plans they'd made to spend the majority of the summer together in a resort on the Battle Frontier, even going as far as saying he would skip the Conference after the first day to spend as much time with her as possible. Of course, that had been before Team Galactic had begun to ramp up, and far before the bombs.

Wake had told him about how there were plenty of fishes in the sea, that he'd find another girl sooner rather than later, but that hadn't helped Maylene's defeatist friend much. Still, she was sure he'd get over it within the next few weeks.

Gardenia took her seat next to a sullen and downtrodden Candice, gently rubbing her back. She pushed her best friend's head back on her shoulder and kissed her forehead, telling her everything was going to be okay. Ever since Maylene had realized she was in love with Grace, she'd looked at the two a little differently. Gardenia reminded her a little of herself, especially when it was obvious she'd restrained herself at multiple opportunities in the years she'd seen the two girls interact. It kind of looked like Gardenia was in love with her, but Maylene wasn't a hundred percent sure just yet.

The Gym Leader took a seat on the opposite side of Candice and looked up at her friend's face. She hadn't cried in days and had been doing really well, at least until today had come to remind her what she had lost. Craig had been her first crush, and while he hadn't reciprocated at all due to her age and having known her since she'd been just a little kid watching her grandmother's Gym Battles, Maylene would be the first to know one did not choose where the heart decided to take them. Candice's eyes were red and puffy. Every couple of minutes, she would start sobbing and struggle to take full breaths. Where she would usually be laughing, throwing out jokes, and being the heart of the room, here she was quiet, desperate to blend into the background and just get through this day.

Since Gardenia had 'operation help Candice grieve' under control for now, Maylene grabbed her phone again. There was no new text from Grace, of course. Maylene found herself getting greedier and greedier with her crush's attention, but things had been weird lately. She'd racked her mind the entire night, desperate to know what could have been the reason for the sudden distance between them, and gotten nightmares about Grace figuring out she was in love with her and reacting in all sorts of horrifying ways that were completely out of character, like calling her disgusting for falling in love with a taken girl.

They were stupid dreams, but they terrified her nonetheless.

Maylene contemplated sending another text, but decided to put the phone away for now. One hour remained until they had to go on stage. Then around an hour and a half of speeches, and finally, she'd be able to have this conversation. It wasn't like she hadn't liked Craig— who hadn't? What Grace was going to tell her had just consumed her mind to the point where she found it difficult to worry about anything else, at the moment.

Time was ticking agonizingly slowly, but eventually the Elite Four got here. Lucian first, with a long, confident stride and a polite greeting addressed to them all. Accompanying him was his one-eyed Alakazam, bitter and sour-faced as always. Maylene knew the psychic was coordinating security, but maybe he was on a break. Aaron followed soon after, his usual childlike wonder gone and having been replaced by a hardy look. His body was wracked by the occasional shiver. Flint seemed the same as usual, loud and boisterous to the point that Gardenia had to glare at him to quiet down. Maylene didn't know how one could have fought a literal God, seen Craig die, and remained in such high spirits, but that was probably just a Flint thing. Bertha, the last due to her aching bones, had always made Maylene somewhat nervous because of how strict she was. Her scarf, a memento from her father who had died in the war, clashed heavily with her dark frilly dress, but she never went anywhere without it.

Bertha wrinkled her nose. "Volkner, do us all a favor and get up." When he replied with a tired groan, she shook her head in disappointment and phrased it another way. "Don't you see how old I am? A frail woman such as I needs a place to sit."

"There's plenty of space to go around." Volkner's voice came out muffled due to the pillow. It was true that there were more couches all over the room, some of them even empty.

Unbothered, she adjusted her brown scarf and sat on his feet until he finally decided to sit up with an exaggerated howl of pain. "Goodness gracious, young people these days. And fix that hair, will you?"

"Does he need to, really?" Flint came up behind him and ruffled a hand through his hair. His friend didn't even have the energy to fight back. "It wouldn't be Volkner without a horrible bedhead."

"Alakazam can do it for him," Fantina said, her accent thick as she clasped both hands together around her glass. "Poor thing."

Fantina, I hold a great deal of respect for you; however, I must convey with complete sincerity that I would rather die a horrible, agonizing death, Alakazam said without an ounce of hesitation.

"Wow! Thanks, Alakazam," Volkner sarcastically whined. "Much appreciated!"

I didn't ask, he said.

"Well, what's this, his second-ever breakup?" Byron chimed in. He placed his chin on his shovel's handle and smiled. "Those always tough, when you're a young'un."

"Hmhm. You think you'll do better than your first, and you're dejected when they end early anyway." Flint nodded with a pensive look and a hand on his chin.

Bertha clicked her tongue. "That's just because you're a slob. I ought to get a cane one of these days to whip you up into a proper man."

The fire type specialist chuckled. "What's the saying again? If they can't handle me at my worst, they don't deserve me at my best," he said with a hand on his chin.

"Your 'best' is like putting an anchor around your would-be girlfriend's neck," Bertha said, unimpressed. "Back to the topic at hand. Volkner, no matter how dejected you are, this ceremony is about paying respects. There are news crews from foreign countries here, and the League's image will not suffer because little Volkner feels sad."

"I get it, I get it!" Volkner got up as he waved an annoyed hand. "I'll fix myself up." He shuffled toward the bathroom with a seemingly endless sigh. The room quieted down once he left, something Gardenia was endlessly grateful for.

Maylene was, too. All this talk about breakups was making her uncomfortable. For no reason at all. Once Lucian finished checking in with the event organizers on his phone— they were going to run out of a certain type of cheese— he made his way to Maylene and spared her an apologetic look.

"Maylene, my dear; I must warn you." He crouched and looked up at her, his purple hair glistening with every subtle movement. "Your father is here."

Byron's grip on his shovel tightened. "What's he want?"

They'd all heard about Oscar's behavior lately. While Maylene mostly vented to Grace or Cecilia, her support system was a wide net. Their opinions of him had lowered considerably since he had been back in Sinnoh. The older Gym Leaders had only known Oscar as their coworker. Tough, but fair, and most of all, reliable. They hadn't known Oscar the father. Even when she was seen with him, he never acted out or lashed out in public; he'd curated his image well.

"Officially, to pay his respects to Craig. He fought him numerous times and found him an excellent battling partner," Lucian explained. "I doubt you'll have to interact with him. As he is no longer a Gym Leader, he does not have access to this area. I do believe Poketch has given him a pass to their building, though."

Maylene shared a worried glance with Gardenia. With his aura, he'd be able to find her wherever she went.

"It's a pressure tactic," Roark said. "Just by being here, he ruins her day. He might have thought that she'd be a speaker and that he could make her mess up."

"Well, I better get going, then." Byron stood up and hoisted his shovel over his shoulder. Maylene looked at him like he was crazy. "What?" he asked. "I just want to talk to him, that's all."

"Don't get into a fight," Bertha warned without as much as a second glance.

Maylene wrung her hands together so strongly she would have broken any other human's. "You'd lose handily. I appreciate the sentiment, though."

"...I'd get at least one good hit in." Byron sat back down and scratched the back of his neck.

"You would need a hospital in seconds," Bertha said.

What could Maylene do now? It wasn't like they could force him out without creating a scene. A confrontation was probably coming, one she could avoid if she stayed holed up in here until she could go back to her Gym. Part of her thought she could call Grace over here instead, but would she bail at the sudden change of plan, or think it was a trap of some kind? She knew Grace was weird with the spots she liked to have important moments or conversations in. What if this was the last opportunity Maylene would get—

"Well, Maylene was planning on meeting a friend without all of us bothering her about it here," Gardenia made Maylene panic. For a moment, she thought the grass type specialist would reveal her crush. "It kind of throws a wrench into her plans."

"A friend?" Fantina smiled. You didn't have to let her continue to see that she was curious.

"J—just a friend, yeah. Nothing special." Maylene had stuttered and slurred a few of her words, which made Fantina even more curious. "I'll manage, somehow."

"I'll go with you." Candice's voice was so low that Maylene was pretty sure she was the only one who'd caught what she had said. "Your dad's a creep; I'll beat him up." A little louder, this time.

Nia nodded and ignored Bertha's japing. "I was going to say the same thing! The thing about abusers like Oscar is that they want to preserve their squeaky-clean image. As long as you're in public and you have people around you, it should be fine."

The conversation would have continued had Alakazam not cleared his throat. The Champion is up and will be arriving shortly, he said, idly staring at one of his spoons. Get ready.



"The day I met him, he showed me around the place. Told me it didn't matter if I had really common Pokémon and that we'd get far through hard work." Ramon's face was softened by a hint of nostalgia, his eyes distant as the memory had shaped him deeply. "I still can't believe he's gone. I'll miss him."

"Yeah…" I whispered.

"He was the model we followed to strive to be better." Bobby spoke of the dead in hushed tones, I had learned. It was no different for Craig. "Especially Aubri—"

"Shut it," she snapped. Even now, the rasp in her voice due to a lung injury was surprising. It certainly made her capture people's attention easier. "I'm not here because I want to be involved in these conversations."

"Then why are you here?" Ramon asked.

"Because… because I just enjoy listening. It makes it feel like he's still here."

The elevator dinged, and we all made our way toward the lobby. While they had talked my ear off, it had been fun to listen to old stories about Craig. Even years ago, he'd been dependable enough to have made a mark on so many trainers. Others I hadn't known had joined in upstairs to chime in with their own experiences with him. He'd touched so many lives it was difficult to fathom. That was the tale of a man whose story would resonate for generations, whispered among the lips of those who sought to embody his spirit or his perseverance. He'd be a beacon for all Sinnohan Trainers for decades to come.

I wanted my own life to leave a similar mark on the world. Alas, so far, I hadn't done a great job, and instead of going out there and making the world a better place, I was stuck in a prison of my own making, and I had thrown away the key.

Fingers constantly twitching around my waist at the lack of Pokeballs there, we exited the building and were met by thousands of people navigating the plaza. I was lucky my hearing aid was actually the right one, or it would have acted up the entire time. Attendants carrying drinks on plates, guests speaking among themselves, news crews darting between clusters of people— all contributed to the cacophony that filled the expansive space the company had set up.

Things weren't just rosy, though. Despite having my empathy under control, the need to consciously keep it at bay surged in my mind. Like having to keep a hand pressed on an old wound.

That sure is a sad way to put it. That was my gift to you! One that saved your hide multiple times! Don't you go calling it a wound!

Today of all days? Okay, maybe I didn't need to compare it to a wound, but the mild headache all these people brought me wasn't helping things. Luckily most of the attention was kept by Aubri's sombre, scarred visage and not me. Under any other circumstances, I would have been up to talking to reporters. Melody and my time with Poketch had given me a decent amount of media training; the issue was that it just wasn't a good day. Mesprit should have known this.

Oh, don't mind me, I'm just watching! Mesprit started to hum a little song that reverberated around my brain. Good luck today, Grace! It sure will be enter— err, I mean, I hope you manage to get through to that other human girl!

You know that just because you caught yourself doesn't mean I didn't understand what you were going to say, right? I thought back as I bit my lip. Whatever. Just stay quiet today, and you'll be able to harass me after. Things should only start improving from here.

Sure! The sarcasm was almost physical and nearly made me miss a step.

It was Bobby who caught me by the arm, his grip strong despite his thin stature. I ignored the urge to pull away, one so harsh I might have bruised my arm. "You okay, Grace?" Due to how loud everyone was, it was tough to parse out his words. "You've seemed off since we met."

I frowned. What was up with me? That wasn't how I usually reacted to touch— and it had nothing to do with intent, or the fact that Bobby was a guy. "I'm okay." I could only muster a whisper none of them heard. It wasn't at all a feeling of repulsion, but a want to keep him safe. As if he'd just touched something radioactive. When glancing at the palm of his hand, it seemed dark. Sullied.

"Maybe it's because you orchestrated a palace coup to fuck her over, fucking me in the process." Aubri shoved her hands deeply into the pockets of her jacket, and her lips pressed together.

"No, no, we already worked out all of that. It's just a mild headache," I said. To me, that had been a lifetime ago, but to Aubri, it was still a fresh event she was still bitter about.

"Let's get to our seats quickly, then," Ramon said.

While seats in the venue cost way more than your usual ticket, we'd gotten ours for free. They were organized in three rows, each one growing larger the further back you got from the stage. The first was free and reserved for Craig's family and friends. His parents were already there, as were Lauren and three older people I assumed were grandparents. Professor Rowan was also sitting there, so I assumed they must have known each other well. Craig's Pokemon were to the side— even the massive Gyarados, whose serpentine body stretched for dozens of feet. There were plenty of other people I didn't know, but the only one I knew by name was Sarah Newman, easily spotted due to her white hair and her getup. It was as if she'd just gotten out of bed and still wore whatever she'd slept with— comfortable shorts and a shirt bigger than she was.

"Yikes. She sticks out like a sore thumb," Ramon whispered.

She did. A dot of colors among respectful, dark clothes that made her stand out and garner a lot of attention. She was currently ignoring a pair of reporters I recognized from the Solaceon Tournament. It was funny how small the world was.

The second row of seats was ours, and would be filled with Poketch sponsees and high-ranking employees. This was where the company's founder— Remington McMillan— would sit along with the rest of the board, including his son Landis. One of them, whose name had slipped my mind, was being pushed in a wheelchair toward his seat, and he looked utterly lost. This was one of the esteemed board members? He looked practically senile!

Either way, this was where we'd be sitting. Bobby and I were pretty far up there due to how important we were. He looked in his element here, far more comfortable than I was. Next to me was Craig's liaison, whose name I only knew thanks to Melody. Jonathan Pierremont. He looked to be in his fifties and had followed Craig along his entire career within the company. Needless to say, the death had hit him hard. Unfortunately, while dad was an engineer for Poketch with a decent amount of responsibility, his seat would be in a third row.

Which was basically for everybody else.

Chairs had been set up on the stage where Cynthia, the Elite Four and the Gym Leaders would sit while people spoke of Craig. I was pretty sure the only person who was going to speak in that group besides Cynthia was Volkner.

Five minutes to the first speech by Cynthia. My phone dinged, which wasn't unusual. My friends were talking to each other through our group chat and had sent numerous messages since we'd arrived—

Maylene - just a heads up my father is here somewhere. If you see him dont threaten to kill him. he wants attention

Maylene - to make a scene and be seen as the victim to better his position and make people who would defend me look bad

Seriously? Did that piece of shit have no limits or what? I knew he wouldn't learn his lesson after only being pushed out of the gym, but didn't he have another kid on the way? A pregnant wife to take care of instead of playing these meaningless games? If he wanted to be a leader so bad, someone people looked up to again, he could start by volunteering to help Snowpointers get back on their feet. Someone with Pokemon of his level and with aura would be a great help to rebuild the city's port.

Obviously, Oscar wanted none of that. Because he was a pathetic narcissist who deserved to die from mysterious circumstances.

You - I wouldn't threaten to kill him.

Maylene - YES U WOUDL U DINGUS

You - Maybe just a tiny bit.

You - Are you going to be okay? Do you need help?

Maylene - its fine just stay put. he wont start anything with you so close to the ceremony starting. and after that well be together anyuway. Candice and Nia r bringing me inside.

You - Okay. Be safe.

By the time we were done texting, an organizer hastily walked onto the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Protector of the frontier, Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces; the first Champion of the Sinnohan Republic, Cynthia Collins, along with her Elite Four and Gym Leaders," he announced in a respectful tone. He couldn't sound too excited.

The nascent applause disappeared the moment Cynthia showed herself. The Champion's steps rang true; she commanded absolute silence over the crowd. There was not even a single word spoken. Cynthia walked in long strides, her familiar black coat billowing behind her in the wind. Following her first was Togekiss— she didn't go anywhere without him anymore— then the Elite Four in pairs of two in their order of perceived strength. Lucian and Flint first, then Bertha and Aaron. Finally, the Gym Leaders by their seniority— how long they had held the position. That meant Fantina was first and Maylene last—

Anxiety seized me to the very core of my being when I saw her. She was wearing a black suit, its lines crisp and sharp. It clung to her shoulders and was tight around her waistline. Somehow I hadn't expected her to wear one of those, but then again, she didn't really like feminine clothing. It looked quite good on her.

She scanned the crowd, and somehow she found me in an instant. Our eyes locked for a moment before she loosened her collar, and then she looked forward and filed into the final chair left for her.

Only Cynthia remained standing on the podium. She moved the microphone attached to it up and began to speak. "Citizens of Sinnoh." I was struck by how clear and confident her voice was, nothing like how it had been when she'd left the Distortion World. She began by thanking both Poketch and Kanto-Johto for having made this event possible, followed, of course, by her own League employees. Knowing dad, he probably would have grumbled at the ordering there.

"Of course, we gather here today to celebrate Craig Goodwill's life. It is so important for us to all remember that without him in Coronet to stop Team Galactic's nefarious plans, devastation would have befallen our beloved country." Almost as if on cue, the row of flags on back of the stage all glistened and flapped in the wind. Was Togekiss the one doing all of that stuff? To be honest, I'd nearly forgotten the fairy was on stage, and that was probably the case for everyone here. "I will not mince words with you all, this year has been a tough one for all involved. Your rights were sacrificed, the economy is still reeling, and over twelve thousand people died in the largest scale terrorist attack Sinnoh had ever known since the Great War."

She paused, eyes gleaming with determination, hands gripping the side of her lectern. "Sinnoh reels, but it remains standing. We remain standing. It is perseverance that defined much of Craig's life, much like it encompasses Sinnoh. A land marked by its harsh, unyielding terrain, where the biting cold winds sweep across the landscape, and little of our land is arable. Like everyone else, he began at the age of fifteen…"

Cynthia went into much of Craig's life, focusing on the greatest moments and qualities. Negotiating with a known herd of aggressive Hippowdon off-route to capture his own, charming them over many days. His prowess at bringing people together and networking, his incredible victory over Candice's grandmother and his viral clip that followed, his negotiating skills that always had both parties winning something

Nearly all of it was new to me, but she basked his life in love and reverence possibly never before given to anyone other than another Champion. I met eyes with Maylene a few times during the speech, and each and every time, it felt like my soul was trying to jump out of my skin. I used to be able to have her look at me or talk to me and be fine. It was fine. But ever since I'd realized she liked me, things hadn't been the same. Beyond the obvious reasons of 'it wasn't like that with her' and 'today was going to be a super difficult conversation,' I just hated this constant anxiety wrapping around me like an Ekans.

"And I want to extend my deepest gratitude to Benjamin and Lilianna Goodwill for raising a man of such unwavering moral fiber," Cynthia said, gesturing at the two parents. "I am sorry for your loss, I truly am. Your son was a great man, and Sinnoh will find itself lacking without him." She turned back toward the audience. "Thank you."

Thunderous applause and whistling erupted, mostly from behind us in the third row. While his family did clap, it was more of a polite applause than anything, from what I could see if I craned my neck. It was a hell of a speech, but it was tainted by the context in which it was given. Draped in the flag, fundraising, and most of all, the fact that it was obviously being used as a common loss to unite the country in a time of crisis.

But what could you do?

Next came Craig's family. Both of his parents went onto the stage, followed closely by Lauren and her grandparents. His father looked a lot like him. Chubbier and older, but the same. It took me a while to understand that Lilianna wouldn't speak. Couldn't speak. Her breaths were a quivering mess, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears. Lauren looked dejected and slightly angry. Her face occasionally twitched, her jaw was clenched, and her eyes had narrowed into a mild glare directed at the crowd, piercing enough for even me to feel guilty.

Benjamin's approach was a more somber speech. One of loss and how he'd miss the little moments with his son. The way he heard him work in his room every time he passed through that hallway, a constant in their lives, as if Craig had vowed to snatch his destiny into his own hands and molded it into his own. How it had eroded at his mental health like waves worn down a cliff. The weeks where nothing had gone right, the days where he argued with Roxie, the sheer toll that being great had brought upon his body and mind.

How he learned sign language for hours on end as a child just in case Lauren was mute to the point that his grades started to slip— just for her to speak her first words at the age of three and a half anyway. The way he always refused to swear around children, and how he loved imparting knowledge to them. The nights as a young child when he'd kept his father and mother up, forcing them to watch footage of the battles he found interesting. He got mad whenever it looked like they weren't paying attention. How he dreamed of fighting and besting every Champion and how giddy he'd been watching footage of the Galarian Champion's battles because he was certain that a few more years would see him become the greatest the world had ever seen in competitive battling.

It went on. And on. And on. The little things that made a person whole, each note driving the stake further into our hearts. While Cynthia asked Sinnoh to remember Craig the symbol, his family was asking the country to remember Craig the person.

And damn it.

That got me. That really got me.

I wiped my eyes with my arm and sniffled. It was never fair. This one didn't get as much applause, but it was the most effective on Craig's fellow trainers. I was pretty sure the majority of them had burst into tears, Bobby included. Not just a few tears, either. He was ugly crying, sobbing into his hands at the devastating loss.

I wasn't sure his death had actually hit a lot of trainers that knew him. Until this very moment.



Maylene had never seen Candice cry this hard. She thought her friend might have needed to be taken off the stage, at least until her nails sank into her thighs through the fabric of her pants, and she gently closed her eyes. The pace of her breaths took a slow, deliberate rhythm as if she was trying to steady herself, to pull back from the edge of overwhelming emotion. By the time Craig's family had stepped off the stage, Candice had brought herself back from the brink.

Both Gardenia and Volkner checked in on her, being the ones sitting on both her flanks. The latter was going to speak soon, right after another one of Craig's friends went through.

"I'm fine. I'm gonna be okay," Candice said. Without a microphone to carry their voices further, they could speak freely as long as they kept it down and they didn't do it while someone was giving their own eulogy. "Eugh. That would have been a good cry to let all of the feelings out."

"Can't look bad in front of the crowd," Volkner said with a familiar sigh.

"These things are hard on your heart," the ice type Gym Leader said. "Grandma used to say that."

Maylene had gotten teary-eyed, but her childhood had trained her to keep those in, or it'd make Oscar angrier. Of course, sometimes the dam had to break, and it just didn't work. That was what had happened at her Gym when she'd tried to take all of the work for herself. Recalling the memory made her glance at Grace again, and Maylene found her crying. Her entire body tensed, and alarm bells rang in her head— like she was going into fight or flight mode. She felt a hand on her arm, and the buzzing in her ears slowly faded into the background.

Gardenia looked at her with a gentle smile. "Relax, the next speech is starting."

Maylene's eyes flickered to the lectern, where she saw Sarah Newman lean against the polished wood, her grip relaxed and hand scratching the back of her head as if she didn't know what to say—



"Um. I didn't really come here with a speech in mind, or anything," Sarah Newman said, her voice nearly void of emotion. While I knew about her, this was the first time I'd heard her speak. A small commotion stirred through the crowd as people stared at each other as if this was a bit of some sort. "I'm not really good at these."

Why would you go up there and not know what to say? Just having her up there was giving me mild second-hand embarrassment. Especially when I knew from Melody that she'd demanded to be put on the speaking schedule.

"Do you know her?" I asked as I leaned toward Bobby.

"Not really. She has her own friends, but I never knew her as anything more than Craig's old flame," he whispered. "She wasn't really involved in the Poketch orbit."

Sarah Newman tapped her finger against the wooden podium. "My name's Sarah Newman. I'm Craig's best friend and rival." She took a breath, slowly finding her footing. "Craig and I, we watched a lot of battles together, and we battled too, of course. That's when we were the closest. Pokemon Training and battling was our common ground."

Another round of murmurs, this time probably from people asking themselves why she was introducing herself or stating the obvious. But there was something special in that, or at least I thought so.

"When we were kids, we used to fight over who'd be the Champion and who would be our second in command in the Elite Four." Sarah looked behind her; at Flint, Bertha, Lucian, Aaron, and Cynthia. "We didn't have plans or anything, you know? But, uh, we were children. It was just throwing a bunch of stuff that sounded good at the wall."

There was a pause, like she had lost her train of thought. All of a sudden, she changed the topic. "Craig— Craig was the kind of guy whose mere presence could just breathe new life into you. Having him at your side just made you more confident. You know, if you were anxious, or you were scared, he'd always be there to smile at you and give you a hand. I think there's something beautiful about that." Sarah shook her head with a snort. "It's silly. He'd always say to just see things through no matter what. That by the end it wouldn't seem as bad, and what you learned from failing more than made up for how shit you'd feel for a few days." There was a slight gasp in the crowd at the swear. This was televised. "Of course, more often than not, he didn't apply that to himself. It took him a while to learn, but the words— he, uh, he truly meant the words. I think. I know."

She pulled at a strand of her hair in front of her nearly-covered eyes. "He was outgoing. He was loud. And— and he could be really funny. Sometimes. And there was—there was something about him; he could walk into a room and immediately read the pulse of it, you know? He could just tune right in. He would know x, y, z, what they wanted and how to make them walk out of there happier than they were when they'd entered. He was just that magnetic." Sarah adjusted the microphone a little closer to her mouth. "He was my first true friend, I think. Pushed me to heights I would never have reached without that competition. Made me want to be a better person who helped people for the sake of helping them and to see them as more than little sock puppets I could punch to soak in more battling experience."

"And you know, I didn't— I don't really like how we drifted apart for so many years." Her bottom lip quivered. "All because of some fight. I could have texted him sooner, you know? I mean, I needed time to cool off, but then he blocked me, and things just got so complicated. And I had— I just— I don't know. It's like— okay, we fought. Who cares? I love you." A nervous laugh left her lips, and a few tears rolled down her cheek. "I love you," she repeated. "That's it, I guess. I'm done. Thanks for listening."

She released her Swanna, hopped on her back, and just… flew off.

I was one of the few who cried for that one.



An hour and a half of speeches had never felt so paradoxical— swift in passing, yet somehow drawn out. When Remington McMillan finally delivered his closing words, Maylene, the other Gym Leaders, and the Elite Four formed a solemn line behind Cynthia, hands clasped behind their backs. Cynthia stood at the front, the Elite Four following in her wake, and the eight Gym Leaders in a final row behind them. All, except Cynthia, bowed in unison, a gesture of gratitude to everyone who had come to honor Craig's memory.

Maylene's legs were numb from sitting for too long. She eyed the crowd leaving in front of her. Most of them would slowly filter out while a minority would stay behind and enjoy what Poketch had to offer them. Supposedly they were going to replay Craig's run of the Conference last year on the projector screen behind them for those who wanted to see. The Gym Leader couldn't see Grace anymore, but she felt her leave and reenter the building.

She'd be waiting.

Back in the waiting room, Cynthia gave them a short spiel about a job well done. Work never stopped for her, even in the wake of Galactic. She'd be going back to the Lily with the rest of her Elites to keep running things, but had given the Gym Leaders the rest of the day off.

Finally, Maylene could go see Grace to hear what she had to say. Both Candice and Gardenia walked at her side, keeping an eye out for her dad. Wherever he was, Oscar was either masking his aura or too far away for her to be able to distinguish him from the crowd.

"So what's this 'bout meeting a friend?" Candice asked, in slightly higher spirits. She was not back to her usual self yet, but this had been closure for her as it had been for many who had come. "Maymay, you look like someone's going to eat you whole. I've never seen you this nervous."

Gardenia shot Maylene a look as she adjusted her hair again, as if to ask if they should tell her. Maylene wasn't sure how to answer. She'd always considered both girls her best friends— people who she rarely hid things from. Unfortunately, Candice was a blabbermouth who couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

"You don't know her," Maylene lied.

"Ooooh, her?" She leaned forward, grinned, and wriggled her eyebrows. "If I don't, then what's the issue? Do you think yours truly will embarrass you?" She placed a hand on her chest in faux indignation. "Does she have a name?"

Okay, she was getting way too curious about this. Maylene could lie about the name and say the first thing that came to her mind, or she could spill the beans to satisfy her. "Gr—" Oh, God, she'd nearly actually said her name. "Hope? Hope." When Candice squinted at her, Maylene finally relented. "Fine, okay! It's Grace Pastel. Happy?"

"Come on, do you want me not to know so bad? I won't tell anyone about your crush, gosh!"

Still focused on the thinning crowd, Gardenia helpfully chimed in. "She's telling the truth, Candice."

"Oh." Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "Wait, what? Excuse me?! Did I miss something— I missed something big, didn't I? Doesn't she have a girlfriend already? Oh man, this is so dramatic!" She clutched her hands to her chest, a look of disbelief and excitement spreading across her face.

"I've been helping her deal with it in my own time," Gardenia explained. "You were… well, dealing with your own issues. Sorry."

"I get it. At least I'm caught up now— wait, how did this happen? Spill the tea!"

Somehow, Candice didn't have to reconcile the fact that the last time she'd regularly spoken with Grace had been to plan her apology to Maylene. Apparently, the last text message they'd shared was Grace sending her condolences about Craig, but communication had been spare post-Coronet, with Grace dealing with all of her issues and Candice having to deal with the massive crisis in Snowpoint. Sure, she'd known that they had ascended Coronet together, but she'd still believed that had been the end of their relationship. Somehow, Candice didn't care at all that it turned her understanding of Maylene's rapport with Grace upside down.

"What can I say, I'm a hopeless romantic," Candice said before barking out a loud laugh. Maylene wanted to shush her, but seeing her friend have such a good time after a tough day was too good to pass up. Her happiness was infectious. "So? What's the plan; come on, fill me in, gals!"

"There's no plan," Maylene said. "Pretty sure I'm about to get rejected prematurely. Not that I was going to even confess." Nothing good could come out of the coming conversation, that was for sure.

They'd almost made it inside the building, now. No signs of Oscar. "Aw, shucks. I thought you two had a date or something."

"Why would we have a date when she has a girlfriend?" Maylene asked.

Candice opened her mouth, but exhaled as she lost her retort. "Fair point. Well, that's a bummer, but you should try to remain optimistic! Maybe things won't be catastrophic!"

"Let's— manage her expectations here," Gardenia cut in.

"Ahhh, Nia. Always the pragmatist to rein me in and ruin my fun. Wait, we should be, like, the devil and angel on her shoulders giving her love advice."

Nia couldn't help but smile and look at her fondly. "Your advice would just be to confess immediately."

"N—no. My advice would be to lock all three girls into a room and not let them out until something happened," Candice said. Maylene felt her face grow warm. "Not that. Come on, I wasn't actually making an innuendo, okay, don't yell at me!"

"I wasn't going to yell…"

"What's this?" her friend poked her in the arm. "Maymay no longer gets mad at those? Nia, this is a transformation of the highest order! I'm liking this new gay Maylene already."

The teasing was relentless, and Gardenia enjoyed it too. Or maybe she just enjoyed whatever came out of Candice's silly mouth. Maylene was pretty sure she was in love, now that she'd gotten a better look at the two. Was that why Nia had felt so compelled to help her, even when it got in the way of work? They'd known each other since they were fifteen, and they were both nineteen now. Maylene hoped she would know Grace just as long; just being by her side and here to support her was enough for her.

At last, they were face to face with the wide glass doors of the entrance. Maylene could feel Grace's presence thrumming inside like a bonfire.

"Are you sure I don't look stupid?" Maylene desperately asked.

"What, no! You look dapper!" Gardenia clapped her back and pushed her forward. "Go ahead, Maymay. You can do this! And remember, if your dad somehow finds you, just ignore him and call us. We'll come inside a few minutes after you and keep an eye out."

"We'll be rooting for you!" Candice said. "Turn up the charm! Wink at her and speak with a sultry voice—" she yelped when Gardenia pinched the side of her arm. "Ow, ow, ow. Okay, don't do that! Be yourself!"

Security let her in without a fuss thanks to her ranking as a Gym Leader. Breathe in, breathe out. Okay. Maylene felt nervous, but strangely, now that the moment had come, she felt a lot calmer than she'd been stewing up on that stage with only ideas of what could happen to keep her company. As planned, Grace had been waiting at their designated meeting spot— a sort of waiting area inside of the Poketch building with a bunch of couches and magazines years out of date. 'Cynthia's Democratic Reforms: What You Need To Know' and 'New Economic Boom: How Free Trade Brought Riches To Sinnoh' were on top of the pile.

Grace wasn't sitting. She was so focused on her own thoughts that she hadn't seen Maylene coming. The short necklace she'd been wearing earlier was no longer there, meaning she had recalled Meltan. Her leg was repeatedly bouncing beneath her dress. It was a simple dark dress that flowed down to her tibia, right above where her burn scars ended. The fabric swayed slightly with each restless movement. Her hair was different; it cascaded down her back in curls instead of being straight, and—

Was she wearing lip gloss?

She was. Her teeth were firmly clamped down on her glittering bottom lip. Maylene froze for a few seconds, hypnotized by the sheen that caught the bright lights in the ceiling. Don't just watch her like a weirdo. Say something. But Maylene wanted a moment to take it all in, just in case this was the last time they'd see each other. To sear the image into her brain so she could recall it every time she closed her eyes.

No. She had to speak up.

"Uh—"

"Gah!" Grace jumped, causing a few faces to turn her way. With a hand halfway into her black purse, she sighed in relief. "S—sorry. I wasn't expecting you to get here so fast. I—I thought you'd have Gym Leader stuff to deal with or something."

Maylene noticed that Grace struggled to look her in the eye when it was usually the opposite. Was it okay to act how she usually did? Should she be serious? Candice had said to be herself… "Sorry for sneaking up on you. Are you alright? I saw you cry earlier, so I was worried."

"Oh, I'm fine. I just— some of the speeches got to me, I guess. I'll miss Craig and the weight he had on this world. It was a very nice shape," she quietly spoke.

Maylene didn't really know what the whole deal with shapes was. She knew what it generally meant, but it was a cute way to phrase it and was shaped by Grace's view of the world.

"Nothing about Oscar?" Grace asked. She clenched her burned arm and squeezed.

"No. I think he's actually laying off, at least for now. So I doubt we'll be interrupted," Maylene said.

For a moment, Maylene thought she was going to start speaking about her texts, and she braced herself with a wince. "So. A suit, huh?"

"Oh, this old thing?" She let out a nervous laugh, and her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah. Never been comfortable in dresses; I know it's weird—"

"It's not, it fits you really well; you should wear what you like."

A warm feeling fluttered up her stomach. Maylene hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "your lips look nice too. I mean you look nice too." No answer. She quickly cleared her throat to get through the awkward silence. "I like the hair. Your hair's nice. Uh. Sorry."

"Oh. Right, the gloss." It was as if pressure stopped choking her when she found out why Maylene had commented on her lips. "I was wearing some yesterday too, so… it's not special or anything. I figured I'd come in the same outfit." Grace looked at herself, then pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh, we should get going."

"Where?"

"This isn't a great spot to talk. Too many people," Grace said. "Let's go upstairs; I'm pretty sure they'll let you through. There are some employees and trainers up there now that the speeches are done, but we can find an empty room somewhere. I wish we could do it at your Gym, though…" she finished with a murmur.

Maylene followed her in a silence so thick she found it difficult to take full breaths. Grace wasn't looking at her. Not even when they were in the elevator, or when Maylene called out to her to tell her about Candice doing okay in an attempt to make small talk before they'd have to start the big conversation. She wanted to delay, to ask her to spend a little time with her with no strings attached, to tell her that actually, everything was fine and she didn't need any clarification if that meant she would never be close to Grace again. They struggled for a bit to find a place they could use. Grace tried some kind of private room for sponsored trainers, but there were people there talking already.

And so, they found themselves not in the cushy executive rooms Maylene had expected from Poketch, but in a bathroom near the ends of Jubilee Tower made for high-ranking people in the company. She released her Electivire and Togekiss, instructed them to not let anyone in, and then closed the door.

There would be no delaying. That was the sentiment that sank into Maylene's mind as Grace turned toward her, eyes fixated on the floor. She remained right next to the door, clinging to it as if she'd need an escape route.

Maylene hoped she was ready to take whatever came next.



It was so quiet.

It was a certain kind of quiet. Not the one where you literally couldn't hear anything— I could, even though I was deaf in one ear. It was a quiet that ate away at you and wanted to forcefully drag the words out of your mouth. There was the quiet, constant dripping of a leaky faucet in one of the sinks. The faint hum of the air conditioning whispered through the air, one that grew louder and louder as if to demand retribution for my lack of honesty. My ear rang deafeningly loudly as I let go of the door handle. The bright, white lights shone over Maylene, but I didn't see her. Couldn't see her. For the past ten minutes, all I'd seen was the lower half of her body.

"There's—" the words died in my throat. Stick to the plan no matter how painful it is. "There's something I have to tell you before we begin. First, I'm sorry for avoiding you this past week while keeping you in the dark. It was wrong of me, and I should have been better." The apology came easy after the first bump in the road.

"You already apologized," Maylene said. "It's okay."

Why was she speaking to me like that? Why was she never angry at me? Not even her body had reacted negatively beyond the subtle, nervous movement of her fingers. "I still felt the need to say it in person. Texting it is a coward's way of doing things, and that's what I was for a week. A coward." I saw her shuffle her feet. Dark men's shoes that looked a little too big for her. "Anyway, I guess I should start at the beginning."

I waited to see if she had a question. There were none, so I followed my mental flowchart.

"There's this thing about me. It's hard to explain— no, it's easy to explain, but it's difficult to say." Damn it, I was already tripping up over my words. "I think that the fact I never experienced any true friendships or love before this year began, combined with everything that happened with all the danger and the death, it makes me get attached to people very easily. To an unhealthy degree. To the point where not having them in my life can drain me of all of my energy and can be physically painful."

Again, no reaction. Was she waiting until I was finished entirely? That was the best-case scenario due to having so few deviations.

"Last week was when I realized how bad it actually was. And, uh, Cecilia kind of figured it would be best for us to take a break." Maylene tensed up at that, and I nearly looked up at her before reining myself in.

"A break?" she asked. "Was— was it my—"

"No!" My fists clenched as I yelled. My voice echoed on the walls and mirrors of the bathroom. "No. It wasn't because of you. The decision was Cecilia's, and at the time I thought my world was ending, but I see now that it was the right decision. So— so I've been taking it one day at a time. Healing. The first two days were the hardest, but my friends pulled me out of that dark place. I'll be talking to a therapist in a few days to fix myself, and doing things away from them. So I can learn what it's like to be normal."

Maylene's hands gripped the side of her pants. "What does that mean for us?"

"I don't think we should see each other that regularly until I am fixed," I hesitantly declared. Every word felt like someone was pulling nails off my fingers.

"But— how long will that take?" she asked, desperation leaking through her voice. "You're leaving in a few months! I—I can help you, Grace. I can teach you what it's like—"

"No. You can't." The taste of metal spread through my mouth. "Maylene, I don't think you understand. I'm a mess, okay? I'm broken. You've been doing so well lately with your Gym, and I would just drag you down. Chip away at you like some kind of disease. Slow at first, but then you'd blink and realize how I fucked up your life. You'd be even worse than most, really, because you're special to me. It's like if I have you, I'd need to have all of you. All the time. I wouldn't be able to slam the brakes. I can't live without having someone, and it'll feel like any time not spent with you might be wasted, or maybe I still feel like I only have a set amount of time before the world ends, or both, or… or…" I finished, nearly out of breath. I had nearly veered off-course; distractions weren't something I could afford. Sweat dripped down my forehead and onto the pristine floor.

"Why won't you look at me?" she asked. Why did she ask that? That wasn't— what was the relevance in that? "You're not even talking to me. You're just… it's like you're reading off a list." She knew me too well. "Let me help you, Grace."

"No. It wouldn't be fair to you; you would be a replacement for Cecilia." My mouth tasted like ashes. That was a lie. "I can't do that to you."

Maylene started to walk forward—

I took as many steps back as I could until I hit the door behind me. I watched her black shoes take long strides until she was so close to me that our feet nearly touched. Maylene grabbed me by the hand— or tried until I pulled again.

"D—don't," I whimpered. "I'll taint you."

"Then taint me," Maylene declared, fingers interlacing with mine. She crouched, and her face entered my field of vision. There was not a trace of anger, disappointment, or disgust on her. "I know this is selfish of me to say, but I won't give up on you, Grace. Not until you love yourself."

Not until I loved myself.

Was that possible? Maylene seemed to ardently believe it.

Seeing her like this, as bright as a star, an angel reaching down to pull me from the murky depths of my own mind, I couldn't help but wonder why. It might have seemed absurd at first— I knew why. She was in love with me. But that was only a fraction of the truth of it all, a piece of a larger picture. The real answer lay in something deeper, something that could be summed up in three simple words. The essence of who she was; the shape she took as she interacted with the world; the way she made others feel.

She was Good.

Goodness in her wasn't just a matter of kindness or morality; it was an intrinsic part of her being, woven into the very fabric of her soul and packed into something beautiful. It was the way she looked at you, not just seeing, but desperate to understand so she could help. The tenderness in her voice when I deserved nothing but scorn. And I tried, oh, I tried to do it like her, yet I only found myself struggling against myself. Where killing and wounding came easy, mindfulness was an uphill battle, a war within myself that I couldn't seem to win. She made it look effortless, as if compassion was as natural as breathing.

Maylene was better than me. The truth was, every chance to interact with her was a stroke of luck I did not deserve. I nearly ruined her once and would ruin her if we kept this going. Yet she had forgiven me in full and was still waiting for my answer with that precious innocent smile of hers, like a Lillipup looking up at me. She had done it all expecting nothing in return. Yes, she wanted to spend time with me, but no matter what happened, I would still be leaving. We stood upon a bridge half-collapsed, unable to support both of our weights, but she still wanted to remain here and hold me. She refused to give up on me because she genuinely believed in me, even if she would join me in the crumbling of the flimsy foundation I stood on in the hope of repairing it.

She was a Hero. My Hero. Anointing me in this ceremony with the belief that I could be just as Good as she was.

"It'll be difficult," I muttered. A feeble attempt, when I knew the answer anyway. "I'm a high-maintenance person."

"I know," she said. "But you can't just isolate yourself from everyone you know and think that things will go better. It's— it's like addicts, right?" she stood up and placed a finger under my chin to get me to look up at her. Her other hand still held onto mine. "You can't just quit cold turkey, okay? Or the majority of people can't anyway. You'll either relapse really hard or just be unable to do anything. There has to be an… off-ramp."

"But I'll hurt you."

"You won't. And if you do, I can take it. I'm a big girl, okay?" she said. "Let's start with the obvious. What's with this tainting stuff?"

"Did you ask me to taint you without understanding what I was saying?"

She blushed. "M—maybe. How was I even supposed to get it? Only you say stuff like that."

"That's… fair."

Even now, I could see it. Shadows writhing on her hands where she touched me. They were fading now, just as they had with Bobby, but… I hadn't gotten those when my dad ruffled my hair or accidentally held my hand. "I don't know. It's new." I explained as best as I understood the phenomenon, which wasn't much. "It's probably nothing. Just a weird vision I'll talk to my therapist about. Maybe I'll sleep it off, and it'll be gone tomorrow."

"It's not nothing. You only say that because it's tough to talk about, and you want to brush it off. If you can see it, it's a lot more literal than I thought, though," Maylene said. "Do you see it now?" Her hand touched my upper arm, thumb gently caressing the side of my shoulder.

"Yeah. I—I don't like it. I think it's actually just because getting close to people scares me, now. Like I'll drag them down with me."

"Are you scared right now?"

The subtle pressure of her fingers rested against my naked shoulder, warm and light. "I'm terrified," I exhaled. "Like you're in danger. Like a horrible fate is going to befall you."

"Okay. Then how does practice sound?"

"Practice?"

"Yeah, like what we're doing now. Light touching, and then we can slowly ramp up. To whatever." What did 'whatever' even mean in this context? A hug? When I nodded, she continued. "And for your co-dependency issues, if I'm the closest to what it would be like with Cecilia, you can also practice on me, okay? We can…" Maylene thought for a few moments; I could see the gears turning in the head. "We can keep you on a schedule and stuff. Keep your life nice and orderly so you don't rely on me too much, but you're not dropped off the deep end, either." Realization hit her, and she quickly added, "You can do that with your other friends, too, it doesn't have to just be me! Same for the touching!"

What would Cecilia say? It wasn't like I could send her a message and ask her; she was already gone. I could justify it however I wanted— that I'd do this with my other friends, that it was to fix myself and the way I thought— at the end of the day, Maylene still liked me, and I was interacting with her. Not that she'd asked me not to, but there was a difference between helping her with her dad and being friends with her and whatever this was going to be. Touching was okay, but hugging for however long? No.

Still, I continued, hoping to bring this up later. "I think that might work," I said, struggling not to shake her hand off me. How strange, to crave her touch yet want to rid myself of it at the same time. "Plus, you live really far." She could always Teleport, but not being in the same house all the time would help.

"See, now you're starting to get into it!" she cheered. "This, combined with therapy? You should be back on your feet in no time! Since it's the week-end, we can start all of this stuff on Monday. I'll ask Nia to help me with the scheduling stuff—"

I winced and interrupted her. "Please, no. I know it sounds weird, but I don't think you should tell her. I just don't want her to think ill of me."

"Fine, but if it doesn't work out, I'm still asking her," Maylene said. "I'll deal with the scheduling myself— just the moments I can see you or not, of course; I'm not about to micromanage you, that'd make it worse. It'll have to be around my work hours, but Veilstone's doing okay enough now for me to take more time off. We're only doing, like, ten battles a day right now."

"Thank you, Maylene." Already, I felt a little lighter, like I was seeing light at the end of a very dark tunnel. There were still many steps required to make it there, but at least it was visible when it hadn't been since Cecilia left me.

"I said I'd help, didn't I?"

"Mhm. So, what's this practice going to be like?" I glanced at her hand. Not the one touching my shoulder— she'd since removed it and started typing at a Notes app on her phone— but the one holding onto my very sweaty hand. "Is there a time limit?"

"I mean, I haven't thought about that yet," Maylene said. "You're doing pretty well."

"It's still unpleasant. We should set out the rules of this first." I wrangled my hand out of hers and stilled my trembling fingers. It still felt warm. "This is therapeutic first and foremost."

"Right, right. It is."

"How about… ten minutes?" I threw a random number up in the air. It had to be long because we wouldn't see each other every day. "Every time we meet. We can set up an alarm, and everything. We don't want me to go into touch debt."

She giggled. "Touch debt? What the hell is even that?"

"Something I just made up for the purposes of this process!" I said, slightly frustrated.

"Okay, you dork."

I was beginning to like it when she called me that, at least according to the smile creeping up my lips and my mild anger instantly evaporating. "I just want strict guidelines; it's important to not lose sight of the goal here," I sighed. "When you said 'ramping up,' I assume you meant… like, nothing like hugging." Two lies in one day; she was really making me act out of habit.

"Oh. I just meant touching with two hands or pressing a little harder. Or more surface area," she said. Of course, she had meant that. I could breathe easy, now. "We can try hugs, too, whenever you're ready. Not for ten minutes, though, that'd be too long. Maybe thirty seconds."

"N—no. That's too far."

She nodded. "Yeah. That's fair."

Okay, thank the Legendaries, I managed that.

After painstakingly making a list of rules that we both wrote on our phones and double-checking every single line, I had her sign it like a contract. Verbal pacts were the backbone of the fae, and I'd be foolish not to cement this further. By the end, I was feeling a whole lot better. It was impossible to know how long this good mood would last, but I felt more ready to face the world and fix my issues than I'd been since Cecilia left— hell, Maylene had even gotten me somewhat pumped to get a therapist again.

"Thanks again for the help, Maylene." When we talked now, I could face her. How could I not, when she had seen me for who I was time and time again; the deepest recesses of what made me? She had witnessed my naked soul and given it another chance. There was no need to feel ashamed. "I feel so refreshed."

"Me too, believe it or not." She glanced down at her phone. "You know, it's been ten minutes, but I didn't actually touch you that long. We should start today."

I hesitated. "You know what, sure. Might as well get it over with. Set the alarm. We'll go for six minutes."

"Okay. Uh, here I go?"

Her hand hovered in the air for a moment, the warmth of her palm lingering just above my skin. I could sense her hesitation, the way her fingers wavered before finally descending toward my neck. The sensation was at first jarring, almost violently unpleasant. The shock of it coursed through me, sharp and unwelcome, like watching her push it down a path lined with razor blades. Once I witnessed that it did not hurt her, the sensation slowly subsided. My body felt warm, like I had some kind of fever, and it was difficult to sit still. Occasionally, her thumb would graze my cheek, and I would find it difficult not to make any noise.

Her hand slid up my face—

"Maylene— not the face. Not now." It had instantly become intolerable. I could see it through when it was just a finger under my chin, but it was too much, too soon.

Immediately, she took her hand off me like she was touching a hot stove. "S—sorry. I got carried away." Her face was red, and she was nearly out of breath. Her eyes were magnetic; I knew that was the gaze of someone who loved me.

She loved me; I was using her to get better, and she knew it.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"No, it's me. This is our first session, I should have taken it slow. Here, let me—" the alarm rang out from her phone, an uncomfortable blare that ripped us away from our little bubble. "Already? I—I guess it's over, then."

"Yeah." I could still feel her hand where she'd touched me. "We'll resume in… what is it, three business days?"

"Yup. Seven pm, I'll send a Kadabra to Teleport you to my Gym. We have more than one now, so you won't be bothering us."

It'd be a short stay— only an hour and a half, and we would alternate who came to who each time. The purpose of it was to teach me that having people to depend on was okay, but not always to the point where I'd be emotionally and physically stunted without them. As dad had said, going to another extreme wouldn't work. I had agreed, but now it was time to put it into practice.

Maylene and I left the bathroom and thanked Princess and Honey for keeping watch. When I saw them in front of the door, they were playing rock paper scissors— Princess somehow had gotten a bit of dirt to use as a tool to shape and play the game. At first, I thought she'd damaged the building somewhere, but she told me that she'd grabbed it from a flower pot down the hall, her face full of indignation. It was when I'd been about to recall her that Maylene's eyes turned from satisfied to alert, narrowing as she squinted at something down the hall.

Oscar, trudging down the empty corridor with his familiar swagger. Had he used his standing to get up here? Sensing ill intent, Princess' rock turned into scissors dusted by glamour to render them sharper than hardened dirt could ever get. Honey understood a few seconds later and stood a few feet in front of us, causing Oscar to innocently raise his hands as Maylene quietly used the electric type's body to hide and wrote 'I GOT THIS' in all caps below all of the notes she'd taken.

My hand ran through my daughter's fur. "Princess, no violence," I whispered to her. Her scissors dissolved, the dirt collapsing on the ground without form. A feint. I knew she'd be able to reform them within half a second if need be.

"I come with no ill intent," Oscar announced. "No need for threats."

"You being here makes me ill, so I don't know about that," Maylene said, not looking at him.

He faltered for a moment, body tensing. He hadn't been expecting that retort, had he? Just those words— his daughter standing up to him— were enough to put him off-balance. "I just came here to talk. And to apologize."

His mouth was saying these things, but his body showed that he didn't mean it. There was no regret etched on his face, just a cold, indifferent stare that betrayed nothing. As if this was just a process for him that he needed to get through to get another chance to influence Maylene. The fact that Oscar only showed feelings whenever Maylene stood up to him spoke volumes.

"My behavior as of late hasn't been great. The truth was, when I saw Sinnoh in such disrepair, I felt an urge to take back the reins—"

"I know what you're doing," Maylene said, now facing him. "So stop."

He raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me?"

"Cecilia taught me this thing called the cycle of abuse," she said. The word 'abuse' made her dad scoff.

"You think this is abuse? Wanting to speak to my daughter?" His tone rose, spreading through the hall. "My father would beat me black and blue every time we trained; you should consider yourself lucky that—"

Maylene spoke over him, aura carrying her voice. "How every time there is an incident that puts the victim out of the abuser's clutches, and they realize they won't crawl back to them with their head hung low, they swallow their pride and apologize. Promise it'll never happen again. And for a while, they stick to it. Things are better for a few weeks, and you think things will go better, but eventually, they do it all again."

Oscar's face was wrought with disbelief. He could hardly believe it. "Now you're just putting words in my mouth." Was that all he could muster? Had he expected things to go his way so much that he could barely come up with anything else?

"Maybe you don't do it consciously. I don't know. I hope so," Maylene said. "But at the end of the day, you're still doing it. I'm done with you, Oscar. And so is the Gym. Do me a favor, and please raise your new kid better. Please."

That was it. Maylene didn't wait to hear his answer, not that he had any. She asked me to follow, and I did, walking past her flabbergasted father, who had nothing to say for himself but to mutter how she'd changed and was like a different person. I recalled my Pokemon once we reached the elevators, and Maylene leaned against the wall. Her legs and hands were shaking.

"Ahhhh, I thought I was going to pass out," she lamented.

"But— what was that?" I asked. "You did it. You told him everything you wanted to say!"

She smiled, clasping her hands together so they wouldn't shake. I'd felt a need to grab them in her place, but hadn't. Not outside of our ten minutes. "I did, didn't I?" Maylene let out a long, drawn-out exhale. "Legendaries, today's been tough for my heart. I thought I was gonna have a panic attack."

"I'm so proud of you. I— he's going to take a while to recover from that one."

"I had to put my money where my mouth was, right? If I'm going to help you, then I should be able to deal with my own problems," she said. "But I only managed this after Cecilia helped me. That's an important lesson."

"What's this? You're acting like a teacher." I found my tone to be more teasing than I thought it'd be.

The Gym Leader put her hand on her hips, looking all pompous. "Well, I'm like your guru, aren't I? I've got to lead by example."

Arceus, she was so silly.

When the elevator doors opened, we found the lobby far emptier than it had been when we'd gone up. We'd spent what, an hour in that bathroom? To complete what had happened and wrap it up in a neat little bow, I brought Maylene to the exact spot she'd picked me up at to scratch the invisible itch.

"So…" she drew out the word.

I was leaning against the same wall. "So. I guess this is it for today."

"Yeah." She kicked her feet, putting her hands behind her back. "Or. How about you come and meet Nia again— actually, I'll bring her. Just her." Maylene shivered, for some reason.

Meeting Gardenia? My favorite Gym Leader who I wanted to emulate and whose battles I had watched more times than I could count? I couldn't help but burst out smiling at the idea; goosebumps ran up and down my arm and neck. Already, I was nervous at being a mess in front of her. The last time, I'd only spoken a few words with her and barely had time to interact, but now? It'd be a proper meeting. Did she even remember our battle? Legendaries, I hoped not. I'd fought it so badly and made a million mistakes. But at the same time… I hoped that she did! What if we talked about it together?

No, no, I was getting ahead of myself. I couldn't go over my assigned time with Maylene…

Well, if Gardenia was going to be here, it was probably fine if I sent dad a message about waiting a little longer. He didn't know about any of this.



The time it took for Maylene to go get Gardenia had been enough for me to start getting second thoughts. What if she thought I was weird? All she knew about me was that I'd killed a bunch of people and watched a man get tortured. Plus, given that she knew I'd been in Coronet doing something, she probably thought I'd killed more. And she would be correct. What these thoughts brought was a different kind of nervousness. Not the one I'd gotten before talking to Maylene, the familiar pit in my stomach, the gnawing, twisting tread, and the relentless thoughts that things were going to go in the worst possible direction.

Instead, my heart raced in a way that was almost painful, a rapid thudding that echoed in my ears. My palms were slick with sweat, and I found myself shifting nervously, unable to keep still. Every possible outcome of the encounter flashed through my mind. What if I stuttered, what if I said something stupid, what if Gardenia didn't like me? This anxiety was closer to excitement, akin to what I used to feel before fighting in Gym Battles.

I could see them making their way toward me, chatting about something. Like every Gym Leader, her clothes were dark and muted. A simple skirt that flowed down below her knees, nearly touching the ground, and some kind of top that was nearly a whisper against her skin, thin and see-through on the sleeves. Her heels made her look taller than she already was.

"...things are going good. Anyway, Nia, here's Grace," Maylene finished a sentence.

Oh God. Already?!

"H—hello. Nice to meet you." Was that fine? It was fine right?

Gardenia smiled. "We already met, remember? Inside Maymay's Gym."

"Nia, she means that this is like, a proper meeting," Maylene huffed. "Stop being so matter-of-fact about things!"

"Sorry, sorry," Gardenia chuckled. "You can relax, I'm not going to eat you, okay? Here, why don't we sit." She gestured at the array of couches next to us.

We each took a seat, Gardenia sitting in front of both of us with an analytical stare that made me feel like I was being disassembled. Was she looking for something? Trying to figure me out? After three seconds or so, she leaned back and crossed her legs.

"First, I want to thank you for keeping Maylene safe in Coronet, Grace," Gardenia said. "I know that she lost her team in there."

"Oh, she saved me more than I saved her. Obviously, I can't go into much detail, but I wouldn't be here without her." There was no stutter this time, so I was making progress. I couldn't shake the feeling that I sounded weird, though. "There was a mutual give and take."

She paused for a second. "You helped her with her dad, too, while we were all too busy to be there when she needed it."

"Thank you, but that was mostly Cecilia."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't know how to take a compliment, do you?" Gardenia noticed. It wasn't an aggressive statement, just a thoughtful observation. Her tone was even warm.

"Nia! You said you'd be nice, gosh!" Maylene yelled. She hadn't noticed.

"Say, why don't you swing by my Gym sometime," Gardenia asked. I thought I'd been hearing things, and I was stuck looking at her like some dumb kid. "No? Maylene's told me about your struggle to return to normal life, and I know I'm your favorite Gym Leader. We could share a few words about battling, tactics, and the like. Plus, I can tell you all about my journey, too."

"Y—yes!" I practically screamed. "Of course I— yes!"

Gardenia continued speaking about how she'd used Volkner and Roark to lose Candice— why had they not wanted her to be here?— and I soaked it all in. I'd honestly believed that my door with Gardenia had closed forever, that it would only remain open in Virtuous' timeline, but here I was, talking to her.

Well, mostly listening and enjoying myself.

When the day had begun, I thought I'd be going back home in tears.

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, 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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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Chapter 328
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

CHAPTER 328

My head rested on my palm as drowsiness began to creep in, the steady drone of the teacher's voice blending with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, the frantic clicking of laptop keyboards, or the scratching of pen on paper. Below me was the book for this course dad had bought me, and I had a few notes scribbled down on a notebook about different musical symbols and whatnot. This place was pretty full for a summer class. By my count, there were twenty-two people here, all teenagers.

"Let's pause here," Ms. Arden said, her tone gentle but firm as she closed the large book of sheet music resting on the piano. The students looked up, some blinking as if emerging from a trance. "You've all done wonderfully so far. I know this can feel like learning a new language—and in many ways, it is—but you're already starting to grasp it."

She walked over to the board, where a simple staff with a few notes had been drawn. "We'll take a short break now. When we come back, we'll start putting what we've learned into exercise at the piano. But before you go," she paused, letting the silence settle, "while you're on break, I want you to think about what you've just learned. Imagine the notes, see them on the staff, and try to hear them in your mind. And it's ten minutes, not one more! If you're late, you aren't getting back in."

Ms. Arden was an interesting teacher. In her forties, shorter than me and a little puffy like a Dedenne, but stern enough to have garnered a reputation among those who'd taken her classes before. She wasn't just a really good piano player, a professional who often played at huge venues for the highest echelons of society; she also played the violin, the harp and the cello. She moved over to the whiteboard to erase some of the notes she'd taken.

Most students filtered out of the room. Some had their Pokemon with them— a boy with a Starly sleeping on his head as if it was her nest. Another with an Aipom who Ms. Aiden had forced back into his Pokeball after the normal type had sown too much chaos in class and thrown a bunch of paper balls at a girl's Kricketot who'd been just as interested in learning as she was. I would have had Angel here had he not been far too large for the classroom. He certainly would have enjoyed it. Instead, Mimi was soundly sleeping around my wrist.

I wonder what Lehmhart would have said if he'd been here. My fist clenched around the fabric of my jeans under my desk, and I held my breath until the hurt passed.

"Sheesh, it's a summer class! She should relax a little bit. You'd think we're taking exams next class." A girl to my right snickered at her own remark.

Her name was Jess. She wasn't really a friend—this was only my second class here, which was way too early for that—but I'd consider her a classroom acquaintance. She had light brown skin and super long tresses. Her parents were apparently Alolan and had come to Sinnoh this January. Usually, you heard about people moving to Alola, not from there, but at least it meant that she was totally tuned out of the trainer culture here. The main reason we'd kind of bonded was because one, she'd sat next to me and just decided to talk, and two, she had no idea who I was.

In the first day of class, numerous students had grouped around my table when I'd arrived. The most all of them could ask were questions about fame, or corny things about how they liked the way I fought because it was entertaining on TV. They were fans, so I responded as best I could, but the image they had of me was just not at all who I was. They saw me as this cool, calm and collected girl who was as brutal as possible to make sure she'd obtain victory at all costs. Only the last bit of that was true.

I assumed those who vehemently disagreed with that assessment already wanted nothing to do with me. They'd gone for someone else instead: the other acquaintance I'd made, though I hadn't paid any attention to what they'd asked.

She was—

"You're far too easygoing," Marley nearly murmured. "You're sending your laziness my way; it's contagious."

"That's how we do it back in the islands. You should try it for a change, Marles." Jess put her feet up on her table, leaned back against her chair and winked at her.

Marley was kind of the other side of the coin. Thin, the kind of pale that got sunburned by spending an hour in the sun, timid, and nearly always quiet. She was a diligent student whose pages were somehow filled with notes even though this was the second class of this summer course. I was pretty sure she was studying on her own time as well. We'd literally just begun and there was like no material we'd seen. Marley was just the kind of person to look ahead in the book before the teacher even got there.

She gave me rich girl vibes with how this was the second time she'd come here in extravagant dresses, but from what I knew, she actually lived in the rougher parts of the city and commuted here via bus. I'd never even seen her with a phone. She had short black hair parted a little to the side and seemingly always had a ribbon somewhere in there. Today's was white and on the side of her head.

"Please don't call me that." Her voice was a little deep— especially whenever she got loud. I noticed her flush in embarrassment, as she always did whenever her tone slipped. Sometimes, I'd see her open her mouth, consider saying something, but shut down with a saddened look.

She probably had a lot more to say a lot of the time, but just didn't like the sound of her own voice. Part of me wanted to call Melody to give her advice, but I just didn't know Marley that well, and I didn't know if she'd be offended or something. I'd had enough of accidentally hurting people.

"Fine. Marley," Jess enunciated the word in an obnoxious way. She probably hadn't caught it, since she didn't seem like the kind of girl to pay attention to her surroundings. "It's a cute nickname. What do you think, Graces? Oh, never mind, she's back on her phone again."

"Hm? Oh, I mean I'm just here to pass the time," I said as I scrolled through my messages.

"You're in a classroom with one of the best musicians in Jubilife, and you're here to pass the time?" Jess raised an eyebrow, holding it there for a few seconds and snorted. "You're weird."

"I mean, I do want to learn the piano—" a smile crept up my face when I saw Maylene had messaged me. She hadn't been sure if she'd be able to make it today because of work, but she had managed to finish most of what she needed to do today.

She wouldn't be picking me up or anything. She was still a Gym Leader, and it was bad optics to have her just walk the streets, having fun in public, while many people were still having a tough time in hospitals or had lost loved ones. Instead, she'd be discreetly Teleported to my apartment complex, where we would hang out for an hour and a half and practice. More complicated plans would have to wait at least another week.

"Secret boyfriend, ain't it?" Jess shot Marley a look, and my mood immediately soured. "Okay, I guess not?"

Marley cleared her throat. "You should learn to keep your mouth shut once in a while," she said, her confidence now returned. "Also, stop leaning back like that; you're going to fall."

For once, Jess listened. And when I said for once even though I'd only known this girl for one class and a half, I meant it. She was… a little annoying, if a little fun as well. Obviously, I wouldn't have stuck around if I hadn't liked her. Plus, she was kind of the glue between me and Marley. There was often this dynamic in school groups where if one person left, the others suddenly didn't know what to talk about and just shuffled there awkwardly until they returned.

I had been the victim of this too many times to count. Hell, last time when we'd just met each other, Jess had kind of decided that we were her friends now. She'd left to go to the bathroom while we'd been talking about our history with the piano after class, and it had literally happened.

"Can't stick around after class this time," I said. "I've got to do stuff."

"I get it. You trainers are always too busy for us civvies," Jess lamented with sarcasm dripping into her words. "I'll just stick around with Marley so we can bond over how we're going to practice—" I felt my heart jump at the word, "—the piano together and leave you behind in the dust while you go do whatever."

Marley shook her head as she pulled a simple spam sandwich from her backpack. "No. I have to go train, too. I've been slacking off too much lately." She began to eat at it, taking bites so small I wasn't sure she'd be done before the break ended.

I blinked. Marley was a trainer? She didn't seem like the type, but that had been my fault for judging a book by its cover. It was difficult to imagine a frail girl like her going out in the wild for days on end, but then again, my picture of what a normal Pokemon journey was like was colored by my own experiences. You could pretty easily go through Sinnoh without many problems if you knew the places to avoid and waited to go there until your team was powerful enough. And maybe she was like Erin, only going to the outskirts of her city.

Or maybe she was super famous and that was why people had swarmed around her on the first day as well. I did assume she was well-known, but not because she was a trainer. Maybe she played another instrument, or she modeled or something.

Meh. What were the odds, right? Looking at her again, she didn't finish her sandwich, instead deciding to save the other half for later.

While these two were just casual acquaintances— maybe loose friends—who most likely weren't going to last in the long run, dad had been right when he'd said this would help. My new therapist (who I had only seen once so far) had said the same thing. Sometimes, it was good to just be struggling to stay awake in class and to be bored out of your mind learning sheet music instead of actually playing the instrument I'd signed up for instead of spiraling like I had been before the ceremony.

I was still ugly inside, concealed beneath a veneer of smiles and pretenses. These people just remained blissfully unaware and looked at me like I was normal. The effort to maintain this façade was suffocating, leaving me feeling queasy as I forced myself to fit in as if I wasn't a scar etched upon the world. Maylene was the only one who could see my real self without feeling disappointment—in the case of my friends—or disgust in the case of these two girls.

And probably Cecilia.

"Are you okay, Graces?" Jess worryingly asked. "You sick? I can take you to the infirmary."

"I'm fine. Thanks."

It was going to be okay. I would see her soon.



My Hero had been waiting by my door, chatting with her Medicham. Even though this was our third session, seeing her in casual clothing was still strange. The only other time it had happened was when we'd gone to the gym—that was one of our planned sessions eventually since there was no point in not being consistent with working out. Maybe she'd wear the same clothes. Thinking back, that crop top looked really good on her. And those yoga pants... would it be fine to ask her to wear them again?

Today, Maylene wore a simple, fitted gray tank top that showed off her toned arms; baggy shorts with a deep shade of blue that hung just above her knees; well-worn sneakers with plenty of use, which was kind of charming due to the fact that I got easily attached to things too. She could have had a new pair with her Gym Leader salary, but here she was, wearing these.

Ah, but she'd seen me coming. Casually inserting myself once there was a lull in the conversation wasn't going to work.

Maylene had already been smiling at some joke Medicham must have made, but there was something different about the way she looked at me. I knew what it was, of course, but one couldn't help but notice. Denying I'd missed someone looking at me like that was a fool's errand.

"There you are," she said.

"Hey. Sorry, Ms. Arden kept rambling for an extra ten minutes." Luckily I had avoided traffic by having Princess fly me. Unfortunately, one had to follow the law, so I had to walk to the nearest landing platform first and land at the one closest to my apartment. "You two been waiting long?"

Good day, Grace! Medicham saluted and winked. Thank you again for the candy the other day.

"She ate way too much," Maylene said with a hint of disapproval. "Medi has no self-control."

Oh, Maymay, life's too short to worry about self-control, Medicham huffed. Maylene and I glanced at each other for a moment.

My keys jingled as I grabbed them out of my jeans pockets and let both girls in. The rest of Maylene's team was either still working at the Gym or helping in Snowpoint, but she liked bringing at least one Pokemon with her. The two times she had come here, that had been Medicham. The psychic was a riot; she was immature in the best ways and got on well with Princess and Honey. We both took off our shoes, but she preferred to stay barefoot whereas I had a pair of dad's slippers to use.

They were way too big for me, but they did the trick.

"Hungry?" I glanced to the right, toward the kitchen embedded in the corner of the apartment. "I can make you guys something."

Medicham beamed. She'd already jumped and claimed the couch for herself. Yes—

"Don't, it's okay. We don't want to be a bother," Maylene said.

My shoulders sagged a little as if the wind was taken out of my sails. Every time I tried offering Maylene something—like making food, lending her stuff, or even paying for takeout—she always refused or split the bill. Even the candy I'd given out had all gone to Medicham. Did she not want me to do her favors? She'd been helping me so much, making me her priority to the detriment of her own life. She'd accepted me fully and given me hope. I knew I'd said I'd be using her, but could I truly give nothing else in return?

"Hey. Stop whatever you're thinking about." Maylene turned toward me, and her hand twitched. She'd wanted to touch me. That would have been a breach of protocol. "How bad was it this time?"

"It's—uh, I thought that you might not want me to treat you. 'Cause I'm… me," I mumbled.

"Nope. I already ate before coming here; you know I track what I eat and stuff. Feeding me's a hassle because I plan all my meals ahead of time." Oh. Of course, that was it. That made sense. "Feel better now?"

"Yeah. I'm kind of stupid, huh?" Something tugged the corner of my lips.

"Kind of, or very?" she teased, her lips curving into a smug grin as she leaned in slightly, as if she was daring me to challenge her. "Come on, I have something fun for us to do today— ah, Medi, get off the couch!"

Maylene jumped on the unsuspecting Medicham, and the situation quickly turned to playfighting. Sometimes, I'd wince when it looked like Medi got a hit in that would have broken basically every bone in my body, but Maylene would just shrug it off and laugh. Hell, I was sure Medicham was holding back, but even when fooling around, Maylene was strong enough to pin her down. It looked kind of fun. Once the fighting type finished, I released Honey and Princess so that she would have company, and the Electivire zipped Mimi away from me through magnetism.

"Do you have Streamix on this?" She snatched the remote on the coffee table and turned the TV on. Dad had left the news on this morning before heading to work.

"Oh, we do. We watching a movie?" I sat on the opposite end of the couch, leaning against the armrest.

She brought up the menu and clicked on the streaming service. "Yeah. I hope that's fine? It's not new or anything, but Candice recommended it to me for us to watch. Apparently, it's horror?"

"Huh. I might know it, what's it called?" Her eyes widened a smidge in surprise. "What? Believe it or not, I'm a bit of a movie buff. I went to the cinema with my dad all the time and I watched a bunch, growing up."

"I just didn't expect that. You never brought it up."

"There was a lot going on. I guess now that routine's returning to my life, I can start watching movies again." My fingers tapped idly against my cheek. "I actually had this series about a mute trainer I was watching with…"

With Cecilia.

A heavy silence settled in, at least until Maylene broke it. "You two will manage, I'm sure of it. You've made a lot of progress, and it's only been a week!" The way she always tried to cheer me up didn't consistently work, but it made my heart feel warm. Was having someone to believe in you this powerful? I'd forgotten what it was like. "Let's just have fun today. The movie is called…" she scrolled through the options until she found the horror genre, and then through those movies as well. "There it is! The Frozen Trail!" The movie's poster was a group of five people, a Monferno and a Charmeleon, trudging through a snowstorm with large red eyes looming in the darkness behind them.

"Did you forget the name? You could have typed in the search bar and saved like 2 minutes." We only had an hour and a half together, so every second counted.

"N—no," she stumbled over her words. "Anyway, I'm pressing play—"

"Wait! If it's horror, we should get into the vibes of the genre." I quickly jumped off the couch and closed the curtains everywhere in the house. Then, I barged into my room and interrupted Medicham attempting to ride on Princess' back while Honey was on the ground, laughing and out of breath as Mimi mimicked him with a weird, high-pitched metallic whine.

Grace! Medicham clamored. I've always wanted to fly on a bird!

Princess countered, hurriedly saying that she was too important to be called a mere bird, but once Honey latched on to the word, she started getting relentlessly teased until she dropped Medicham on the ground with a huff.

"You… you three just don't break anything, alright? Have fun."

I snatched the blanket on my bed and left the room, running toward the thermostat to set it to the coldest temperature possible. The entire apartment was dark when I jumped on the couch again, with only light from the television flickering across the living room, casting shadows that danced across the walls and floor.

"The name was related to cold, so I figured I might as well." After burying myself up to my neck under the covers, I passed some to Maylene, who did the same even though she wouldn't be bothered by the cold. "You good with that?"

"Yeah!" she said. "It's kind of fun, I've never watched a movie like this."

"It's immersive, right? C'mon, press play!"

Maylene laughed, her head tilting back slightly. "Someone's excited. I hope you're good with horror." She put the movie on, and a bunch of logos flashed on the screen. "Candice usually just laughs at them while Gardenia hangs onto her for dear life. I'm happy I won't have to be a third wheel for once."

"What about you?" I asked, unable to resist my curiosity.

"Oh, me? I mean, I clear them easy peasy!"



Maylene, as it turned out, was not good with horror.

Her entire body tensed, and she instinctively curled up on the couch, drawing her knees to her chest as if making herself smaller could somehow shield her from the terror on screen.

She screamed for dear life as a Garchomp suddenly burst from under the snow. Rows upon rows of sharp teeth the size of my fingers dug into the movie's first victim, and the dragon shook their head until there was nothing left but a mutilated corpse with limbs and organs splattered across the white expanse that was northern Sinnoh. Maylene's hands flew to her face, her knuckles white as she clutched the edge of the blanket and dragged it over her eyes.

Sometimes, I'd feel her brush up against me on accident. The blanket was big enough for the both of us to share enough space, but Maylene jumping in terror every time there was tension in the movie made her move around a lot. Luckily, I was wearing jeans to shield myself from what the contact would do to me most of the time, and her hand had only touched my arm twice.

It was fine whenever it happened by accident. I wasn't going to deduct time for it if the instinctual action of responding to fear led to the contact.

The movie was real good, too. The basic plot was that a helicopter crash off-route had stranded a group of five, with their only Pokemon being a Monferno and Charmeleon which conveniently kept them warm enough not to die from the cold. I assumed the Garchomp had lived on Coronet, had made their way out of the mountain, and was now stalking their victims, killing them one at a time and leaving them alive to come to collect whenever they got hungry. They were easy prey; both Monferno and Charmeleon wouldn't be enough to fight back unless the plot pulled some strange shenanigans.

It was scary for sure, especially the tension-building scenes where you could hear subtle rumbling mixed in with the score that was actually Garchomp moving through the snow. Was there anything scarier than getting stalked by a Garchomp with no way back to civilization but your own two legs? They went really hard on the gore, and while the characters were just meh besides the obvious main couple that would survive at the end, at least the Garchomp was a real actor and not CGI. I assumed they'd actually filmed this in Snowpoint or close to it, so nearly everything was practical effects. The city and its surroundings were excellent for filming winter scenes all year round.

Garchomp, Monferno and Charmeleon. They sure must have paid their trainers a whole lot of money to get such a rare lineup of Pokemon who could actually act.

"I can't believe they'd just kill Mitch like that… we're only twenty minutes in!" Maylene complained with a lasting whine. "I thought we'd see the Garchomp first, and they'd manage to escape, at least for a while."

"Well, he was the one with the least amount of backstory and talked about his wife and kids in the opening act, he was basically condemned to die," I said, glancing at her.

The subtle glow of the TV flashed across her face, and she was already preparing herself to shield her eyes at the next jumpscare. Normally, I'd be hoping there wouldn't be that many— not because being scared wasn't fun, but because too many really cheapened the impact and kind of ruined the movie. They'd handled it perfectly here, revealing Garchomp for the first time after having left clues for attentive viewers to catch without holding their hand.

But this time, I figured I'd be kind of okay with it.

Part of me wanted to ask her to practice right now, a desperate idea that hung on the tip of my tongue. It would technically be fine because she'd be the one touching me. Plus, Gardenia and Candice did it when watching movies, and they were friends. It was normal. The issue was that I couldn't be the one to ask because that'd breach a line and go past a point I was unwilling to cross. There was this tense feeling within me, a subtle squeeze that made me conscious of every breath. A warmth bubbling within me despite the cold temperatures that had spread throughout the apartment.

It wasn't a bad feeling.

The movie finished with a runtime of one hour and ten minutes with my expectations completely subverted. The main couple who I thought would live actually died, along with every human in the movie, leaving only Monferno and Charmeleon alive for the last forty percent of the film as they desperately clung to life, the flame on their tails dimming as the movie went on. As it turned out, they'd been the two main characters all along, and their scenes were devoid of any dialogue or subtitles, meaning people had to use body language and guess what they were telling each other. Even I couldn't understand, since my empathy didn't work through screens.

It was extremely enjoyable to watch, even if only Monferno survived Garchomp's onslaught in the end thanks to Charmeleon's sacrifice. He'd evolved into a CGI Charizard and bought just enough time for Monferno to jump into a half-frozen river that washed him up in Snowpoint with only a broken arm, leg, and hypothermia.

"That was fun!" I said as the credits rolled. "Honestly, one of the best horrors I've watched recently. I wonder if Candice watched and recc'ed it because it was a locally-made movie. What'd you think—"

Ah.

She was crying. Not full-on tears, but her eyes were wet and she sniffled as she dragged herself out of the covers and wiped her eyes. "That was depressing. Good, but depressing."

I sighed. "Right."

I understood her. It was the kind of movie I'd usually cry at, but it just hadn't… made me feel as strongly. Yes, I was sad, and yes, I'd gotten scared, but maybe movies were just that, now. Movies. Fake. The veneer of reality one could pretend was there when watching just hadn't hit me at all. Nothing had immersed me enough to make me think 'these are people, not actors.'

"I really thought they'd escape together. Why did Candice recommend this? It completely killed the vibe…" Maylene grabbed her phone to check the time, and then I almost thought she'd start texting Candice before she put it away. "I bet she was laughing when she texted me about it! She knew it'd make me cry!"

"Maybe she thought you'd enjoy it anyway, right?" I scooted myself a little toward her. "It was good. That scene where Garchomp destroyed their camp and bit off that guy's leg and he had to bleed out for miles over the snow? It's so good!"

Maylene rolled her eyes. "You'd get on well with her for any horror flicks."

"Probably, but watching with you was… cool; your reactions were fun." I found myself tightening the covers around me. "I wish we could do this more often. Hanging out."

She gave me a knowing smile. "You know we can't. It has to be other people pulling you up, not just me," she explained as she had numerous times. "If I'm your answer for everything, then I'm just turning into your new Cecilia. Without the dating part," she was thankfully quick to add.

"I know. I'm the one who actually has to swim to shore; you're just keeping me from drowning."

She snapped her fingers. "Exactly! God, you're good with analogies."

I was bummed to hear it, but her knowing when to stop was a good thing. I was horrible at self-control while she actually enforced the limits. That was what I needed. While Maylene went to readjust the thermostat, I opened the curtains again and went to check on our Pokemon. Medicham, as Princess explained it, had enjoyed the cold so much she'd started napping after stealing my bed. The Togekiss and her brother had started taking bets on what they could do without Medicham waking up, which, as it turned out, was a lot. I assumed Honey was the one who had squiggled the lines on her face with permanent marker while Princess had been in the midst of tickling her nose with the tip of her wing just as I'd walked in. Mimi had been staring out my window with a fascinated look and looking at Jubilife's afternoon life passing them by.

I apologized to Maylene for their behavior when she walked in behind me, but she didn't seem to mind. Even Medicham took it all in good fun and enjoyed having stars drawn around her eyes.

"You guys can take the living room," Maylene said. "Grace and I are gonna use the room for a bit."

All three Pokemon slowly walked out— I rubbed Princess' head and Honey's arm when they did— and Mimi remained transfixed by the city. Maylene closed the door behind them. My throat felt dry when she turned toward me. Her mouth opened, and she asked in a whisper that carried across my bedroom and tickled my ears:

"We have enough time; want to practice today?"



Practice was odd.

During our second session after the first in the bathroom, Maylene had backed off due to the reaction I'd had when she had tried touching my face and done my wrist instead. It was a gesture I appreciated greatly; it'd be better to slowly ramp up instead of jumping to the most extreme options right away. The problem was that while I was always anxious before it happened, and the start was always unpleasant, making me fight my instincts to not pull away out of fear of sullying Maylene, part of me couldn't help but look forward to it.

It was in moments like these, right before we began, that the tension was at its highest— so thick I struggled to take anything but shallow breaths, and I had to stay focused by biting my lip. Maylene loomed in front of me, face slightly red and looking right into my eyes. Where was she going to do it today? The hand? Maybe my shoulder? My thighs? No, she couldn't— I was wearing jeans. Or could she, anyway? What if she asked me? My mind raced at every possibility as I pressed myself back against the wall and gripped the side of my desk with a slick palm. She was kind of cornering me, yet I could barely look away; I was caught in the intensity of her gaze.

"Are you ready?" she asked, slightly breathless. She was nervous just like I was, something that reassured me slightly. "Remember the safe word."

My head bobbed up and down without my doing; I was in no state of mind to speak right now. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw both of her hands moving in unison toward my waist. They slipped under the hem of my shirt—

My entire body shivered, knocking over a cup full of pens and pencils all over my desk and floor. It was as if a jolt of electricity surged through me, setting my body alight. I could literally feel my heartbeat in my ears. Maylene stopped, waiting to see if I'd say anything to stop her, but I didn't. Instead, I held strong as she moved deeper under my shirt up my waist and then kept her hands firmly in place. It had to be skin-on-skin, or it didn't count. The treatment was obviously working. The period of time it took for it to go from me worrying about Maylene's safety to whatever this feeling was grew tinier and tinier, and today was no exception. To her credit, Maylene stayed very professional. She kept far enough away from me to need to have her arms fully extended to touch me, and…

"Is this good?" she softly asked.

Maylene squeezed a little harder, and I forgot what I'd just been thinking about. Her fingers traced lightly along my waist, their warmth seeping into my skin. I could feel her other hand draw contours along the edges of my scars. There was no way the thermostat had already adjusted the temperature enough for me to sweat, yet I was anyway. An unknown amount of minutes passed when a dangerous little thought wandered into my head as Maylene's hands snaked further behind me and onto my back, meaning she had needed to get a smidge closer.

Was I enjoying this?

I was. There was something freeing about being so vulnerable with her; something freeing about showing her all of me, countless flaws included, and yet still having her look at me like this. Like I still deserved to be loved. Touch me like I still deserved to be touched and wasn't poisonous. Was it okay to like this? Did it go too far? I'd enjoyed my therapy with Aliyah and looked forward to speaking with her; wasn't this just another form of therapy?

Maylene was close enough for her hands to touch behind me, now, and finally, I found myself looking away from her intense gaze. She let out a little sound, almost demanding, to tell me to keep staring so I could keep my confidence, and it was impossible for me to consider not locking eyes again. The ends of her breath tickled my face—

The alarm rang in her pocket.

"Annnd, done," she sighed.

Immediately, her warmth left me, leaving only traces. Imprints of purity where her fingers and palms had sunk into my skin to fix me. Soon, it'd be as if it had never been there in the first place. I could see the darkness lurking on her fingers, palms and forearms. They were already fading; they always went quicker, these days. The ten minutes did as well; I couldn't believe that was it, already. My legs were numb. I used the last of my energy to shuffle over to my bed and fell on top of it as if I'd just ran a marathon.

"You did good today," Maylene said behind me. "You nearly looked at me the entire time and everything; good job. I'm proud of you." My stomach fluttered. "You thirsty? I'm feeling a bit thirsty." She glanced at the door. "I can get you some water."

"Yes, please." I stared down again so I wouldn't see her, and my voice was muffled through my pillow.

I heard her open the door, letting in our Pokemon's chatter, but I was too out of it to focus. My head was spinning. Surprisingly, she closed it behind her, and for a moment, there were no steps. It was like a bucket of cold water dropped on my head. Had I fucked up in some way? Made a sound that had creeped her out during practice? I—I needed to fix this. I—

It must have taken nearly ten seconds for her to start walking toward the kitchen. Hearing her move soothed my nerves enough to stay seated on the bed instead of barging out there in a panic and apologizing for whatever it was that I did wrong. Maylene came back with two glasses of tap water, though she'd already been drinking from hers. My hands pressed against the cool glass to center myself, and I took a sip of water.

"Thanks for helping, as always," I said now that I was well enough to speak. "What time is it? How long do you have left?"

After downing her glass, Maylene started picking up my knocked-down pen and pencils. "I took a look at the time in the living room. We've got thirteen minutes left, but I think I'm gonna head out early."

My body froze; the glass nearly slipped out of my hands. "Was it something I did, or…?" I asked, unsure of myself.

Maylene smiled. "Good. You asked this time instead of thinking the worst all on your own." She finished putting the cup upright and looked at me like someone would a wounded child. Full of care and a desire to help. "No, it was nothing you did, but I think it'd be good for you. Sometimes, things happen, and people have to leave early, y'know? It'd be good for you to learn. Better to get you used to it; it's just thirteen minutes. Less, now."

"That's fair." I stood up to see her out. "Thanks for swinging by. Kadabra gonna pick you up?"

"...I guess I'll have to stand in front of the door until he does," she slowly realized, hand drifting up to her forehead. "No talking to me, though. Sorry. Oh, and by the way, I was thinking."

"Hm?"

Unwilling to leave them unattended, I scooped up Mimi in my hands before we left my bedroom.

"You know how I told you that you should have other people to practice with?" she asked. Right. I hadn't even told anyone about this problem yet since I'd been hoping it would go away just with Maylene's help. "Since you haven't really gotten started on that, I figured that the session after the next one should be done by someone other than me."

I could only muster a weak "yeah," however my displeasure must have shown on my face even though I knew she was right.

"I know it's gonna be tough." She grabbed my hand and squeezed—

We both immediately pulled away. She had forgotten that wasn't supposed to happen.

"Shit. Sorry." Her expression looked uneasy rather than apologetic. Like she was unsettled she had actually fucked up. "Um, as I was saying, it's going to be hard; I know you're in a bad place right now. But I'm giving you a session's warning in advance so it doesn't feel like the world's falling underneath you. This has nothing to do with anything you did or what I feel, okay? It's just better this way, yeah?"

"No, no, I get it." I did get it. But how could she make me feel these weird things and then tell me I had to get it from someone else? How was that fair?

Maylene's hands touched one another, as if she needed a distraction. "You look like it hurts a lot, though."

"I'm sorry. I'm trying, and it's genuinely gotten a lot easier since we talked at the ceremony. Thanks for sticking with me, still." It was difficult to believe that she was still here helping me after all of this. That she still loved me. Yet I knew she did. "So… see you in four days at eight pm?" I'd memorized the schedule, so there was no need to check my phone."Don't forget, it's in Twinleaf."

"It's gonna be tough finding a Kadabra who's been there," Maylene jokingly complained. "I'll figure it out, though." She turned toward the living room. "Medi! Time to go!"

After Medicham told my Pokemon her goodbyes, Maylene and I stood there awkwardly for a few moments. This always happened when one of us had to leave; we kind of didn't know how to do it without feeling like something was off. This time around, it ended with two stiff nods and a wave on my part. The door closed, and I waited in the living room, glancing at the clock occasionally as I caught up with Honey and Princess' games and what I'd missed with Medicham.

It seemed a little more difficult to do things now that Maylene was gone, and I had a few hours until dad came back home. Honey poked my shoulder and asked what we were going to do now, and I smiled at him.

"Guess it's time to wash you guys. You haven't taken baths in a while."

Princess immediately screamed at her sibling for getting her into this mess, which reminded me of some kids' reactions to the people who'd tell teachers they'd forgotten to check if the class had done their homework. To make herself feel better, she threw Sunshine under the bus and demanded he be subject to this 'torture.'

Honestly, she just hated getting wet because it made her lose all of her volume, and it exposed how skinny she was to the world. She sure looked a lot less majestic that way.

"Don't worry, Sunshine's gonna get his share too!" I laughed. Yeah, he'd just gotten out of the Center and didn't really need his scales cleaned, but it'd be fun to bond. "Then we'll go out."

This time, it was Mimi who chimed excitedly, though the other two were also intrigued.

"I don't know where yet. But… maybe we can go train again, yeah?"



It was always difficult for Maylene to go to work as if nothing had happened after spending time with Grace. Her mind would always be weighed down by guilt, as if leaving Grace behind was somehow wrong, even though she knew it was for the best. There was something in the way Grace looked up at her, a look so vulnerable, as if her entire world would crumble if Maylene walked out that door. It was a gaze that tugged at her heart, making her want to stay just a little longer, no matter how many responsibilities awaited her.

Those eyes were almost hypnotic, and in that moment, Maylene could fully grasp what Cecilia had gone through. It wasn't just a look; it was a silent plea, a tender vulnerability that was impossible to turn away from—especially when you loved her. That was why Maylene had grabbed her hand on accident. She'd wanted nothing more but to call Grace a good girl for reassurance and to tell her she'd stay until her father came home from work in exchange for having other people practice with her as if that would be some kind of compromise and not just giving in to her.

And it would probably feel really good. Giving in to her. For a while, at least, until it inevitably blew up.

Saying no felt like a betrayal, a cruelty she wasn't sure she could ever inflict until Maylene stood there for long enough, snapped out of her trance, and remembered this was for Grace's own good.

Now, it was back to work.

Luckily for her, she'd finished helping the 7th badge Pokemon train today in hopes of pushing more of them to be usable for 8th badge battles. As Veilstone was the first Gym reopened, and they took more and more trainers every day, Maylene expected the Gym wouldn't have enough to tackle the flurry of 7 badgers hoping to make it to the Conference who had saved her for their 8th badge in hopes of getting an easier fight. Now, all she'd need to do for the rest of the day was refresh her email, look into getting some new fighting types in Maniac Tunnel tomorrow, and harass the League for more money to pay all of her employees on time this Friday.

It was boring, idle work, but that was also part of a Gym Leader's duties and could be enjoyable if you saw it as taking care of your community. Any distraction was better than reminiscing about today's practice. If Maylene thought about it too much, she wouldn't be able to even read right.

She was mildly melancholic that other people would have to be involved soon. It was for Grace's well-being, but practice was… it was their thing. Maylene would be sad to see less and less of it as the weeks went on. For their next session in Twinleaf, she'd have to make her ten minutes count.

It was okay to be a little selfish, right?

A subtle vibration from her phone on her desk snapped her out of her thoughts. Luckily, it wasn't Grace relapsing—they weren't supposed to contact each other outside of emergencies (if Grace was getting really bad thoughts; she had revealed her history of self-harm), set hours or to facilitate meetings for their sessions—it was Candice. Reading her name on her screen usually would have made Maylene smile, but the ice type Gym Leader had been relentless in getting 'updates' on what was happening between Maylene and Grace this past week.

Maylene was somewhat to blame. She'd kept telling her about some things to cheer her up, even more than Gardenia sometimes. Maylene had obviously respected Grace's wishes and not told them how deep their bond went; all they knew was that they'd 'mended' things at the ceremony and were now sometimes hanging out and talking, but less than they had before.

Maylene exhaled before answering. "Candice. Aren't you supposed to be meeting with some—"

"Yes! The Kanto-Johto reps to assign them to different jobs to help fix up the port. I finished all of that already!" she yelled so loudly it was as if she was trying to eat her phone. She was surprised it had gone that quickly, but despite how Candice acted, Maylene knew she wasn't the kind of person to not take her duties seriously when she couldn't afford to. "How'd it go with Grace? Did she enjoy the movie?"

"Why'd you give us a movie like that, anyway?" Maylene asked, dodging the question. "I thought it was gonna be a cheesy kind of horror, not 'ruin your day' horror."

Candice snickered. "You don't know what it's like to rizz someone, my dear apprentice. First of all, Grace loves movies—"

"You knew that?!"

"—and I figured you'd jump in her arms, or she'd comfort you while you were crying or something," Candice spoke over her. "Second of all, it's also just a great movie?! Like, hello?! Real boon for the Snowpoint movie industry these past few years! We're no Pokestar Studio, but I'm hoping to get there in my tenure!"

Maylene sighed as she forwarded an email to Sunyshore's Gym about some issue about a reported herd of Ponyta arriving from off-route onto route 214 within the next week or so. It was a situation the Rangers would most likely deal with, but they were better safe than sorry. Just knowing wouldn't hurt, and Sunyshore trainers were so coddled a few might do something stupid in hopes of getting their hands on a new fire type and get burned.

"She did like the movie," Maylene admitted. "Really like it. Thanks for the suggestion." Most of her commentary had been about the technical aspects of scenes or the themes behind the story, though. A little funny to hear when someone's body was being shredded by a Garchomp's teeth. It was endearing in a way, and nice to listen to her talk about something normally and not berate herself for just existing. Maylene was sure she would have paid more attention if she hadn't been fighting for her life. "Since I have you here, I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure thing, Maymay. Shoot."

Her fingers traced the edge of her laptop. "I… I don't think you should keep pushing this narrative about Grace and me becoming a thing. It's not happening."

Sure, Grace and Cecilia were temporarily broken up, but the temporary was the important bit. The thought of it being final terrified Grace constantly to the point that she'd vent about maybe not being good enough even when she was 'fixed.' Her intention was to get back with Cecilia eventually, and Maylene encouraged that. Sometimes, especially during practice, Grace would look at her in ways that gave her ideas that maybe, just maybe, there'd be a chance if Maylene pushed for it. If she just leaned in and took her lips right then and there. But she didn't want to be a homewrecker. She wasn't doing this to take advantage of two broken girls, and so far, she'd found restraining herself from going that far to be easy.

"If you want me to, I'll stop," Candice finally said. "But it's giving a little bit of mixed signals, yeah? You're literally having dates with this girl every few days, and her girlfriend's nowhere to be seen. She helped you a lot with Oscar, right? And the three of you talked and spent a decent amount of time together. Aren't you practicing to show her different colors of aura? I honestly thought something had happened here, like a big ole pile of lesbians. You never did that for me when I asked you."

"S—slow down. You asked me that out of curiosity, and you say a bunch of unserious stuff all the time!" Maylene fought back. "And yes, she was the main reason I stood up to him back at the ceremony," Maylene said with a slight smile. "Cecilia's just busy, at the moment. She's reconnecting with her team on her own." That was the official narrative Maylene was going for, at least.

"Well, if you want to lie to your dear friend Candice, I'll let you off the hook for now, missus," she spoke with a huff. "I'll stop bringing it up. Just… if what you're saying is true and nothing's changed in their relationship, then you ought to back off, right? Like I know I joke around a lot and stuff, but…"

Maylene felt a pit form in her stomach. "It's not what you think, okay? There's—there's a reason for all of this; I just can't get into it; it isn't my place. If she's ever fine with me saying this stuff, then I'll tell you, 'kay?"

Maylene hoped her friends wouldn't think she was a bad person because of a misunderstanding. If it came to that, she'd have to ask Grace to tell them again. Grace was really worrying about their reactions for nothing. They didn't have to go in-depth; they'd just have to briefly mention the break, the co-dependency issues, and their practice sessions. Then, they would understand easily.

Candice let out a long, curious hum with a hint of suspicion. "Just don't get hurt, and try to not hurt others, okay?"

Maylene couldn't muster a verbal response. "Mhm."



There were plenty of areas to train in Jubilife. Hundreds upon hundreds of arenas to make use of, filled to the brim with hobbyists and professional trainers alike. Sometimes, they'd hold tournaments that dad used to bring me to, and I remembered being so excited to see them— as if my eyes were so transfixed on each fight I barely remembered to blink— until I held Princess in my arms for the first time and I pictured her in that situation, taking hit after hit until she was a bloodied heap on the ground with her Togepi egg fractured to pieces.

Times changed, and quickly. One year after that, Princess would be fighting her first battle against a trainer with a Shinx south of the city. The feeling of ecstasy after a win was one I hadn't felt in a long while. Not when all of my recent fights had been to kill people, most of them just because they were in my way. I hadn't come here to fight anyone yet. The odds of finding someone who'd give me a good battle here were basically zero, given that anyone with eight badges would probably rather hide what they were developing for the delayed Conference.

Instead, I'd come here to watch young trainers give it all they got on battles with no stakes to remember what that was like. The thrill of a fight; the way your body felt so electric when one of your tactics paid off, and you could just bask in the moment; how you forgot that the world around you as it bled away, and you forgot anything else existed and could only see the stretch of arena ahead of you and nothing else.

The results were… mixed. Not because the battles were boring, or anything—Sunshine and I were currently watching a girl's Staravia lose to another teen's insanely skilled Venonat, who would leave clusters of Rage Powder to lead Staravia astray. I was pretty sure the bug was somehow combining this with a form of Confuse Ray to make the Staravia see things, given how it was throwing Air Cutters at nothing while his trainer constantly yelled at him in an attempt to aim toward Venonat while Psybeams constantly attempted to shoot him out of the sky. It was kind of a baby's first illusion, which would be incredible given that both these kids had three badges.

I did still get excited when I saw things like that. People finding different ways to use moves, or how no two Pokemon fought the same. For example, this girl's Staravia; he was obviously newly evolved, by the awkward way he sometimes overshot the distance he planned to fly or struggled to stop. That meant that his trainer mostly relied on moves at a distance out of fear he'd mess up. Things like Air Cutter, Gust, or Whirlwind. The issue was that he'd spread the Rage Powder all over the arena due to this, but I assumed his trainer thought she'd be able to make quick work of a Venonat before it became an issue. She had been wrong.

Anyway.

I'd seen another Staravia fight earlier (the species was one of the most popular flying types a Sinnohan trainer could have), and that Pokemon had been turned into a complete berserker whose only goal was to get as many hits in by getting up close and personal. If that wasn't enough, Endeavor would do the trick, and I assumed it often turned a loss into a one-to-one trade if it caught opponents off-guard. The move was one of the relatively easy to learn but much more difficult to master, yet that trainer had put all of his time into it and defied the odds.

There was beauty in that. How people and Pokemon's way of fighting was so shaped by their experiences that none of them were the same. Sometimes similar, maybe, but never the same. Sunshine snorted when Staravia was finally brought down by a final Psybeam, and I nudged his arm to tell him to be respectful in public, at least. His scales were so clean and smooth they were nearly shiny, something he didn't like. According to him, it made him appear weaker because it looked like he didn't regularly fight. Like some kind of 'pet' Pokemon.

His words, not mine.

It had been easy to settle back into a rhythm with him, and he didn't care much about any of my relationship drama besides the fact that it made me feel bad and slow down. He'd told me that I should focus on fighting instead of all these childish impulses, and it was at times like these that I remembered he was a bitter old dragon who'd only known violence and fighting for over seventy years. One couldn't just ignore what they were feeling by throwing themselves into something else and giving up everything else, or at least it wasn't sustainable.

I still loved him dearly, though. And I knew this was a partnership, and he wouldn't want to stay idle. Not just him, either. Nearly all of my Pokemon were eager to get back into the groove of training again but just hadn't said anything because they hadn't wanted to distress me. He was just the only one who didn't care about being blunt, and unlike Sweetheart, Buddy couldn't rein in his words.

The dragon asked me if I had gotten what I wanted by coming here, which mainly was inspiration. My notebook was full of ideas scribbled down in the last week or so, but none of them had clicked like the ones I'd come up with before Coronet. Like Vine Terrain, the different ways to utilize Night Shade, or Dark Sandstorm. The closest I'd gotten back to that feeling were concepts for Princess' cutting moves, but that was far off.

"Not really; it was fun, though. I actually have something I want to talk to you about regarding training."

He perked up at the notion, shell brightening a smidge. The glow made a few people behind him give him a wide berth. At the side of the battlefield, the two trainers we'd been looking at shook each other's hands, and the girl bitterly handed her opponent a few thousand Pokedollars. Must have been a high-stakes match.

I sighed. "Let's head out."

Unfortunately, Sunshine was one of those Pokemon not exactly allowed on most streets of Jubilife, so he'd have to make do with waiting in his Pokeball for now. Princess and I would be flying down south for this one, close to where Angel had first unveiled his Vine Terrain at full force. He actually was one I also wanted to speak to regarding training as well.

The thing about flying was that you saw so much more of the world, spread out below you, and that sometimes included spotting intriguing events. Like a gathering of dark clouds above a slightly wooded area followed by a flurry of bolts of lightning slamming into the ground below. The sound hit me a few seconds later, and I soothed Princess by rubbing a hand on her head. It wasn't the first time we spotted an attack like this from above, but it was certainly the largest of its kind. Was some big-shot training in our spot? That looked like something someone with eight badges would come up with, especially if it was sustainable. I was a little anxious about the woods catching on fire, though I suspect I used that as an excuse to go check out who this was. Any trainer this powerful knew to not damage the area they were in too much whenever they trained. They drilled that into you in school, and if you got caught, you'd get a hefty fine depending on how much land you ruined and what the Rangers had to do to fix it. Already, I noticed someone in uniform on a Tropius keeping watch of the area.

A thick barrier appeared around Princess as she waited for an opening to dive down. When she did, I found a familiar face among a clearing. Marley from piano class with an Electrode brimming with energy, the electricity around her pulsating like a beating heart. A Floatzel was a few hundred feet away, extinguishing the few fires that had appeared before they could damage the woods. The air still smelled like ozone and tickled my nostrils.

Marley from piano class…

Marley from piano class?! Again, the technique on that Electrode was definitely some high-level stuff! The electric type looked a little exhausted, heaving for every breath as she subtly rolled back and forth. The storm above us ended, and Marley's eyes narrowed until she was glaring at me.

"Are you spying on me?" she asked. What? She was the one who was in my spot— "Damn it, I knew I should have waited to train at night." Electrode sneered at me, her species' familiar smile nowhere to be seen, and she asked her trainer what they should do.

I swallowed, forcing myself not to go for my Pokeballs, and I kept petting Princess as I whispered to her to relax. That we were safe, that they didn't mean that they'd kill us; no one who was normal thought like that. Floatzel was… hiding behind one of the trees. Not very well, given that I could see his anxiety-ridden tail writhe around.

"I'm… sorry?" I hesitantly said. "I'm not here to spy; I came here to train with my team. I usually swing around here whenever I'm in Jubilife, and I've never seen you."

Marley huffed, turning her head away—she'd been looking at my Togekiss. "Train? How many badges do you even have?"

Did she really not know? How offline was she? Was it possible to be even more offline than I was? I'd never seen her with a phone, and I could see the edge of a rolled-up paper map past her backpack's zipper like this was the 90s or some other ancient time.

"Seven." Her eyes widened slightly when I answered as if she was surprised a trainer of my caliber was just hanging out in her piano class. That was my line. "Like I said, I didn't come here to spy on you," I continued and took a step forward. "I wanted to talk to my team and come up with some new stuff."

"Uhuh," she said, clearly not believing me.

"Your Electrode sure packs a punch, though," I added. If her Pokemon were this strong, why did she save food and live in the worst part of Jubilife? She could be rich if she wanted. "What's that move called? Is it, like, an ultimate technique?" Maybe something like Vine Terrain was for Angel? "It's a sustained thunderstorm that just keeps hitting with continuous Thunderbolts all over the field, right? I assume they hone in on your opponent, too. It's pretty sweet, especially since it's scaleable with Thunder and eventually even Zap Cannon. Hard to imagine so many of those, though. You might melt any battlefield off."

Her arms shot straight down to her sides, fists clenching so tightly that her knuckles turned whiter than they already were. "You said you didn't come to spy on me, but you fish around for what move that was?!" Her voice turned deep again when she yelled, and her hands covered her mouth. "Ugh. Whatever," Marley muttered. "I'll leave you this area. I thought the fact that it was nearly off the route and the giant thunderstorm would be enough not to come across anyone, but clearly, I was wrong."

"Wait! Do you have a phone number or something? We should train together; this is like, the perfect opportunity!" I asked as she recalled her Electrode and Floatzel (by aiming at his tail), then released an Arcanine. Her fur gleamed in the sunlight like a coat of molten gold, and I could see the dense muscle beneath it. She was far bulkier than Justin's. You'd think she was part fighting type.

The fire type immediately rolled on her back, paws up in the air and tongue hanging from her mouth as she demanded pets. "Arcanine, not now. You're embarrassing me in front of a potential opponent…"

Princess and I just blinked at her, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Arcanine got the idea, and Marley climbed up on her back, face red in embarrassment and anger. "Don't tell this to anyone. Especially not Jess!" Her voice got a little louder just then. "Act like none of this happened in class."

She touched Arcanine's neck twice, and the fire type began to run at a trot, slowly speeding up until she became nothing but a smear of red and gold against the world. I sighed as I released the rest of my team.

So much for a training partner.

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, 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, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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