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"My... kind?" Necrozma shrugged. "I do not have a kind. I'm but a lowly phantom of the dragon I used to be."

"To weaken us and make us more vulnerable." Necrozma lifted his hand and it faintly crackled. "As worthless as I am, I could do more in my original body than in this one. As for moving around... he let us do that so that clashing personalities and egos would draw the magikarp closer to us even...

Necrozma decided he'd rather make that question rhetorical. "The answer, in my opinion, is not to comprise a team with a large contingency of pokémon weak to water." He glanced at Tricky. "Even if we looked beyond the magikarp to the possibility of other threats, the best course of action would...

"If I were in my real body, I could at least make an attempt at protecting the lot of you, but your boss stripped us of our powers." He still didn't make eye contact. "Let me ask you something, Charmander. If you needed to bring together a team of pokémon to stop a giant, rampaging water-type...

"It's not a compliment if it's not true. I'm not important." Necrozma kept eye— or, rather, core contact with Astrid. "I'm not interested in stealing your light when there's a perfectly free source right here." He pointed his left hand skyward. This fake wyrm certainly was a charmander, all...

"Greetings, Moonchild. I apologize about your pelt." Necrozma bowed to her. "I'm subjecting myself to the ocean to prepare for that magikarp's Hydro Pumps."

"And you look like the perfect spy for that fake charizard that sent us to be sacrificed," Necrozma said, not bothering to turn around and make eye contact. "Same with your two identical twins."

With another light gathered, Necrozma splashed himself with more water. The salt seeped into the cracks in his body and an angered grunt echoed across the beach.

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?"