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A solid half-hour after Nip left the forest, Necrozma too headed for clearer ground. Somewhere he could absorb light more easily. Less effort was good, after all. So he drifted aimlessly toward the beach. There were a few other people there, but he didn't mind them. He hovered out over the...

"Be safe, little one."

"I don't have one." Necrozma shrugged. "Though there were some mortals back home who referred to me as Necrozma. Means 'death prism' in an ancient language. Appropriate, I suppose."

"Oh, no. Running won't work. We will have to fight." Necrozma paused. "But you don't find it the least bit suspicious that he recruited half a dozen fire-types to fight a water-type? Not to mention there was a cranidos and golett mixed in, as well. It's almost as if... he wanted to build a...

"I do not even remotely trust what he's doing. Claiming to be a mere charizard that can summon people from multiple universes at will?" Necrozma's core crackled with electricity. "Don't you find it a bit too convenient that he showed us a charmander in that footage? And there are multiple...

"Then we are of one mind in that regard." Necrozma brought his arms closer to his chest. "I suspect this is all a trap. That fake stooge charizard is sacrificing us to World Ender. And if it claims you all, then it will learn of where your worlds dwell and set its sights on them." A shudder...

"The stars." Necrozma glanced skyward. There were, of course, nothing but tree branches and fat green leaves above him. So, he raised his right arm. Pink melded with black and a ring of psychic energy dispelled the leaves above the two. It took a fair bit out of him, however. His arm fell back...

"I doubt it. Pokémon hatch from eggs. They live their lives." Necrozma lifted his hand. A small tendril of light sprouted in it. "And they wither away." He closed his hand, snuffing the light out like a candle's flame. "I did not hatch from an egg. And I have lived for dozens upon dozens of...

Chapter 4: Rules Not Made to be Broken Sighing, Vortex rested his head against his right hand and drummed his left fingers against his desk. "You're blowing this out of proportion," he said, gaze fixed on a blue, triangular gemstone. "This was nothing but an isolated incident. She probably...

"Pokémon?" His core flickered. "No one's ever referred to me as one. As far as I'm aware, I'm not part of any sort of species. This isn't even what I'm meant to look like. I'm merely... a phantom of better, happier times."

Claiming, uh, 1 BLEC and tiers 1/2 for wave 2 for reviewing Finding Mahoun.

Why? Why couldn't he just be left alone with his thoughts and whatever light he could salvage from the sky? Necrozma didn't turn over. He continued to look at the roots of the tree he lay against. "An aura of ice mixed with dark. Is there something you need, Sneasel?"

And, for the most part, I'd say you did well. I do feel as though you stumbled out of the gate with Tiny Fang's "birth" and initial introduction into the world. Their "voice" (through the prose) is a bit too sophisticated and understands things a bit too clearly for a newborn, even by pokémon...

Once Tricky was gone, Necrozma dragged himself toward the nearest tree. His core rattled in his frame. Images flashed through his mind. Six gray legs. The cool embrace of spectral wings. A small nebula cluster. His crystalline arm reaching toward the nebula as it was sucked into a fiery vortex...

"I already answered that." Necrozma again pointed in the direction Tricky'd come from. "Leave me to mourn in peace."

"I don't." He wasn't sure what the child expected. Necrozma intended to keep answering her questions as literally as possible.

"I don't have one. Thanks to World Ender and your kind, I'm but a worthless phantom."

"No, but a delphox did. And I cannot so much as look at you without wanting to strangle you where you stand," Necrozma growled. "And all that will serve is to draw World Ender to us even faster, just as that stooge charizard wants." His core sparked with pink light. "It's in your own best...

No. Necrozma looked at the fennekin running around. His core darkened. The flower he'd curled around shriveled up and its dried petals scattered away. Necrozma rolled over onto his stomach and dug his hands into the soil. Why did there have to be one of these detestable vulpix offshoots? How...

Logging wave 1, tiers 1-5 for writing ~2100 words.