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"So it seems we are among the last ones present." Zygarde said as they looked around at the considerably emptier-- and quieter-- building. "Fitting." "This has been quite the... interesting experience. Never did we expect that the Morph would happen here, in another world entirely." They...

Zygarde hissed. "A mortal can not ascend to godhood. You being a human makes this even more impossible." They grunted. "Though, we do not see why we should really care at all. Your universe can wither all it wants. Such a thing will not affect our own plans."

Zygarde watched the petty squabble. "We will never understand mortals." There was a light pounding sensation in Zygarde's head, as though a headache was starting. They put one claw to their head. What...? Zygarde felt a tap on their shoulder, and they turned, but nobody was there...

Zygarde looked at the creature that had seemingly spawned from the human. "Interesting."

Zygarde scoffed. "We do not require mortal sustenance."

"We have just killed our foolish worshipper. It was for a righteous cause, as now we possess his body; that is why our form consists of half of a Garchomp. Ah, would you be interested in seeing the site where we killed him?" Zygarde spoke with an uncharacteristic, disturbing excitement in their...

Zygarde's attention was drawn by an unfamiliar shout. They reluctantly withdrew from the blood pool and slithered their way back to the other beings. Upon seeing the new silver-haired human, they hissed and approached the man, apparently unaware or uncaring that they still left a trail of blood...

Zygarde got a strange prickling in their brain, as though a Quilladin had stabbed them. Ah. The game. Yes. They thought of a good question to ask, as much as they really didn't want to. Their question would no doubt be imprinted into the heads of the other beings, no matter how far away they...

The vision cleared, and Zygarde recoiled. "Impossible." They hissed quietly. Then they slithered away, still leaving a disturbing blood trail behind them. Ironically, they went right back to the site of the Morphing; blood still fresh. Zygarde looked at the bits of flesh within the blood...

"This form is temporary until we can return to our own world. We shall dispose of it as soon as possible." "We were not the one to choose the terminology. That is how it was ordained by Arceus." "We find that having any determination at all, for anything, is the sign of a fool. One who...

Zygarde hissed once they saw who was talking to them. The impostor. "The possession of a mortal has little to do with our own indifference towards all life, mortals and deities alike." They paused briefly, before continuing, "The Morph is a rite of passage for those whom are blessed by their...

Zygarde stared in veiled contemptuous amusement at the dancing cat. "Mortals and their inane rituals." They said with the utmost disdain in their voice. They found it only somewhat strange that hardly any of the beings, aside from the ghost, had noticed Zygarde's new, improved appearance. If...

Zygarde very slowly turned their head to look at the one who asked the question. "We have not, nor do we have any wish to do so."

Zygarde stared in cold contempt at the flailing Meganium. Pathetic. Now that they looked around, they noticed that a majority of the beings had shifted forms. How unusual.

Antares continued his search, now aided by the effects of both potions he had consumed. Then the furniture started moving every which way. He made a telekinetic barrier consisting of other furniture items to prevent himself from being hit by anything. Once it was over, he found that...

Antares sighed. I did. ...That is of little comfort to me, Lord. A spectacular upbringing did nothing to grant me an equally fortunate rest of my life. I suppose that is the truth. Ah, but I should not be dwelling on this; I have another potion to consume. And indeed he found another...

Antares was still in this dammed labyrinth of furniture and shelves as the next question was asked. He stopped briefly just to laugh at the absurdity of it. "Ha! To think I would do such a thing; the mere idea alone is asinine." Well, either way, back to looking for the Core. He had the...

Ah. Of course. Antares shook his head. Of course he had been in at least one altercation. Well, time to-- Hmm? A vial lay on an otherwise dusty and empty shelf, filled to the brim with some disturbingly dark liquid. ...This must be the potion I am meant to consume. Carefully, he opened...

The Core yelped in a rather undignified manner as it was haphazardly shoved into a pillowcase. What-- Antares lurched around in confusion for a few seconds before his claws fell upon the material covering his head. He pulled it off and stared at it. A diversion. The Core shrieked as...