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"...I feel like I walked into a bad trashy comic when you say it like that," Chip's voice echoed from within Mecha Arceus. "Okay, buddy! Take her down! And, uh, shield up, too!"

"Oh. S-so you can... break through that..." Chip coughed a haggard, buzzing cough. "But not until... my one last... creation..." He tossed the ball. And just as he did, reality itself seemed to distort around the strange amalgamation, and Chip once again disappeared inside the large creature's...

"Oh god, she did the thing!" Chip squeaked. "Uhh, ha-hang on, I have a plan for this! Time for my panic button!" The moment he pressed it, a thick barrier of blue energy surrounded him, and he buzzed tauntingly at Astrid from behind his shield while his mechanical minions continued their onslaught.

"It looks like we're seeing a more defensive strategy from Astrid this time!" Incineroar announced. "Could this mean a change in strategy for the battle ahead?! Oh! But Chip doesn't seem to have the same idea!" "Hey, hey!" Chip shouted. "Do you really think that's going to be enough to stop...

Diyem and Xygarde exchanged similarly stone-like expressions. "Then I suppose that will be what I do," Diyem said. "I trust you will handle the rest?" Zygarde nodded. "This should not be difficult. If it will raise morale for the incoming battle against the Blacklight, then I will do what can...

Zygarde looked at Dill, as did Diyem, awaiting that answer. "Even if you go back, or are resurrected for one reason or another," Diyem said, "there is a risk of being so offset from your friends and family of that world, due to them eventually dying all the same, that you may effectively never...

"It seems to still be there, but sometimes it takes time to fade, that's true," Zygarde remarked. "Hmmh... Zygarde, you would not go out of your way to point out these things if you weren't finding solutions," Diyem growled. "Get to the point." "Due to Dill's circumstances," Zygarde said, "it...

"Reassigned?" Zygarde asked. "Ah. You mean transferring realities, like what happened here, but more permanently." "Are you aware of the ramifications behind such a decision?" Diyem chided. "That's even to assume such things are going to be allowed. I'm on thin ice as it is for this crisis. The...

Zygarde looked through the badge a little longer, then looked at Diyem. "Are you aware of the classification of Dill's homeworld's spirit flow management system?" "Class-V ED E was my guess." "That seems to be accurate," Zygarde agreed. "This is not something that we would normally intervene...

"I've got a better strategy this time, is what I have!" Chip said, his body twitching with excitement and probably a few glitches. "Get ready, because this time I'm going all-out from the start!" Chip tossed several spheres into the air. One became a swarm of familiar Astrid heads, each one...

"A world with no spirit retention is quite common," Zygarde said. "Under circumstances like those, you will drift into the Overworld. This is easy to check." Zygarde produced his strange badge again, pointing it at Dill...

Zygarde nodded. "Yes, that is usually how death works," he said.

"Yes?" Zygarde asked. His head movement caused Toast to growl a little more, nearly being thrown off. He valiantly clung on and tried to bite deeper, but that only caused his wheat-based fangs to crumble against tough scales. Diyem watched closely, not interjecting.

Diyem snorted, shaking his head. "Perhaps this treatment is what can lead to that," he stated flatly, glancing at Zygarde, then at Eien. "It's... at least a relief that you won't be in any trouble," Eien said as Zygarde approached Diyem. The Overseer produced something again, this time a small...

Chapter 120 – Judgement Day Thick, hearty stew bubbled within a cauldron, set inside a giant cave fit for a great behemoth. And a behemoth he was—it was one of the few caves that Owen could comfortably rest in. He didn’t care for proper houses, but he still liked to have shelter when it rained...

Diyem growled to himself, glancing at Zygarde, who seemed, wisely, to not be speaking. Only watching. "My opinion," he said, "on being put through that torment, for the result that I have today? For the future trials I will need to endure as part of their program?" He kept his hands clenched...

"The spirit fought back," Diyem replied, looking away. "...In the end, I was still defeated. It was just... delayed. And I don't like to talk about such things... I'd rather it be clear that there was never a time when everything had been plunged into darkness... After that, it's... it's a blur...

"...In the end, my true dormancy was brief," Diyem said flatly. "I was an exceptional situation. I did not lie... when I told you that I had been defeated by..." He trailed off, looking at his own hands, squeezing them, thoughtful. "...In the end, one spirit shined brighter than what I could...

"Mmf." Diyem paced. "There are three ways for my kind to be dispatched, or three categories. One is the way that they usually first try... The way that fails. Killing outright, as you described. Dark Matter eventually returns and repeats the cycle of destruction. The second way is how things...

Zygarde looked at Nate, not saying anything. But perhaps for the first time, there was a ghost of an expression in those unmoving eyes of his. Puzzlement, perhaps, or curiosity. But before Zygarde could say anything at all in response to Nate, a deep, rumbling, spine-tingling laughter started...