Thanks for the reviews, Fobbie! Glad that you've been enjoying these big bumps of the plot now that the story really got rolling. I replied to your evals elsewhere, but it's nice to see you getting into the think of it now.
And here's the next chapter...
Chapter 176 – The Value of Regret
“Please, wait!” Solgaleo cried. “I spent a lot of time thinking about this!”
“No. I’m done with these tests,” Charizard growled, marching straight past regal marble statues and pillars with Necrozma’s insignia dotting every floor tile. Golden crystals of light decorated the ceiling, reflecting his orange flame. Up ahead, he saw a distortion.
Solgaleo awkwardly followed behind them with his tail down. “But but but… It was going to be a cool speech! Like, can I at least say one line?”
“You’re… just mocking me. I know what you are,” Charizard said. “And I’m not falling for it!”
“Let me goooo,” Wrath whispered. They’d caught him in a pincer attack the section prior; he and Reflection traded off who maintained the barrier around him as they walked. “I need… to kill… the god…!”
“Quiet,” Reflection said, tapping the shield. “Just behave.”
“I’d never mock myself!” Solgaleo said, prancing ahead and spinning to face them again. “Please, I spent my whole existence thinking of the speech!”
“Your
whole existence.” Charizard crossed his arms.
“Yes! About… a few kilos now?”
“He’s… bubbly,” Owen remarked, looking disturbed. “Are you sure you’re me? I don’t think I was ever like this…”
“I can think of some times,” Charizard said. “In fact, when you were a Heart…”
“That’s different!” Owen defended.
Charizard eyed Solgaleo again, finally stopping his advance. “Alright. Then how about this,” he said. “I’ll let you talk about what you want to…
after I guess what you’ll say.”
“Fine, fine.” Solgaleo sat on his haunches and flicked his tail left and right. “What am I going to say?”
Charizard gave him a cross look. “You are created from a hypothetical. You’re who I would be if I didn’t do anything wrong. So, like, if I made the opposite decision of what I think led to this mess. Listening to Necrozma, becoming Solgaleo, and working under him as an apprentice Overseer. Dark Matter gets destroyed. Maybe Kilo is remade without him. Everything would be fine if I listened to what Necrozma said, and where we are right now is all my fault.”
The flames of Charizard, Owen, and Reflection made the golden crystals shimmer. Wrath still hissed inside his barrier, occasionally muttering something as Charizard and Reflection traded barrier duties.
“Well,” Solgaleo said, glancing behind him. “That’s
one way to phrase all of it…”
“Did I miss anything?” Charizard asked.
“…Just that it’s guesswork,” Solgaleo admitted. “But it’s what you
think could have happened. And I’m
from you, too. Remember when you were hit by that light? It took little pieces of you and scattered them across the Dungeon. I’m that last piece.”
“How can Aramé even
do that?” Owen piped up. “That’s… a crazy strong thing to do!”
“Well, Aramé is crazy strong,” Solgaleo answered with a chuckle. “It’s… scary, uh, yeah. But I guess that’s why she never leaves this place; it’s her domain. Where she’s strongest.”
“So, each one was some test… What was the point of the mirror thing?” Charizard gestured to Reflection. “That was terrifying!”
“Ah, well, it wasn’t
meant to go that way,” Solgaleo said nervously. “You… broke it. But it was supposed to be something where it’d weigh your time against someone else’s well-being—even someone just like you.”
“…What kind of test is that?! That wasn’t even on my mind! Someone was in trouble!”
“I was created as a test of patience?” Reflection whimpered.
“Starting to think Aramé’s a little nuts,” Owen mumbled.
“Can I kill her?” Wrath whispered.
“No,” they all said.
“In any case, yeah” Solgaleo said. “The fact that it didn’t even cross your mind is a good thing… to an extent. But trying to save one person when a whole world is burning can be another angle. Neither answer is the correct one.”
“Right.” Charizard returned his attention to the path down the marble-gold hall. “Well… If you’re my final piece, then what’s the end of this supposed to be like?”
“That’s not too far ahead. I think it’s better if you read it than if I explain it first.”
“Alright…”
Charizard’s mind wandered to the feasibility of making a Dungeon like this without any kind of Mystic or Dungeon power to assist. Solid gold pillars, crystals, and runes on the pillars, not to mention how many of them there were in this excessively long hallway… The ground, polished so well that he could see his reflection, made him briefly tap on the tile to make sure it wasn’t another false mirror.
Thankfully, it wasn’t.
“What force would have kept me from entering with my Perceive?” Charizard asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Owen nodded. “You left your horns outside, right?”
“Aramé likely has them by now,” Solgaleo said. “And there was no force. She assumed you’d obey out of politeness.”
Charizard groaned. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Hey, don’t say that!” Solgaleo said, tail rising with his tone. “Our curiosity is one of our best and worst traits!”
“You’re too cheerful,” Charizard mumbled, feeling guilty for remarking it. “Is that… how I used to be?”
“Well, a little,” Solgaleo said. “Our line naturally has some fiery cheer. I didn’t shake it as Solgaleo. I think… you’ve been very tired. I didn’t get that kind of fatigue.”
“Tired…” He couldn’t deny that. In the end, he was marching onward, even though his legs hurt. But… he saw the end. He had all the answers he needed to give it his best against Alexander and the other fragments of Dark Matter.
It was better than his walk in the Voidlands. Glancing at Owen, he wondered if he could have just as easily been that time when he’d lost even Amia to the Voidlands.
“What’s on your mind?” Solgaleo asked.
“These… parts of me.” Charizard gestured to him, then at Wrath, who had defiantly become dead weight while rolling in the Protect sphere. “They represent…”
“Different flaws or states of mind,” Solgaleo explained, nodding. “The times when you were lost…” He gestured to Owen. “The times where you are your most unstable…” He gestured to Wrath, who rolled his eyes. “Your current self.” To Reflection. “And, your regrets reversed. That’s me. For now, you are the host, but we all have a fragment of your spirit. Uh, I think.”
“For now?”
“Uhh—that’s for later. When you read the thing.” He pointed a paw at the end of the hall, which, at their pace, was still a few more back-and-forths away. “A lot of this is symbolic.”
“It’s… symbolic?” Solgaleo said nervously. “When you are so dedicated to a goal that you would cast aside even ‘yourself’ for that duty. That’s what the test was meant to symbolize.”
“Did getting more symbolic come with becoming Solgaleo?” Charizard deadpanned, not expecting an answer.
They entered the final chamber. He wondered if Zena had seen the same thing in her part of the Dungeon. Statues loomed over him, larger than life, each one of a Legend. In the back was Arceus made of gold, surrounded by the Creation Trio and the Divine Trio.
He read the message swiftly, aloud for the others to hear. “In this chamber, you must come to terms with yourself and consolidate your spirit… I already
did this. By myself! A year ago!”
Solgaleo tittered nervously. “Oh yeah, we did do that…”
Charizard read on. “Only one, with the aspects of the remainder, may pass through the gateway… two to discard, in front of Zekrom. Two to keep, in front of Reshiram. And then the last one in front of Kyurem…”
“Wait, what’s the full version?” Reflection asked.
Charizard stood aside so he could read it.
“So…” Owen squeaked. “So, I came here all for nothing… I’m… I’m gonna die anyway? Or, or all of you die instead?”
“It’s hardly death,” Solgaleo said. “You’re just going to sprint into the future! From your perspective, at least.”
Charizard repeated it to himself, glaring at Kyurem’s statue.
“What’s the
symbolism for this test?” Owen asked Solgaleo.
“That one’s a little easier,” Solgaleo said. “And… it’s not entirely symbolic.”
“What?”
Solgaleo approached the statue of Arceus, tilting his head upward to make eye contact with the imposing, yet inanimate, figure.
“You know how Legends have special instincts to weather immortality, right?” Solgaleo said. “Things that a normal mortal can’t do.”
“Yes…?” Charizard’s tail thumped on the ground, sending a little shower of embers behind him. “What about it? Do you have those?”
“Well, yes,” Solgaleo said. “But have you ever considered why, and how, that’s possible?”
Charizard didn’t like where this was going.
Solgaleo sat in front of Arceus’ statue and faced Charizard. “It’s all… instincts.”
He gestured with one paw to the Creation Trio.
“Once mortal, these former humans, and some just plain Pokémon, ascended Destiny Tower and then passed. Their spirits, their past, everything about them is combed through, and then they see if that kind of temperament is… good enough.”
“Good enough—I always thought that ‘good enough’ was
not enough for being a god,” Charizard said. “That was the whole problem I had with it.”
“Because you were in denial of what it meant,” Solgaleo said. “But… you understood the fundamentals, didn’t you? Being a god meant throwing away part of yourself to adopt another. Your instincts.”
Solgaleo brought his paw to his chest and bowed.
“I don’t have the temptation to fly freely in the skies. I’m not afraid of the dark. And I don’t mind a cool dip in the pool now and then, either. But, in exchange… I now have a mind that can handle much longer periods. I have innate knowledge of Ultra Space, how to traverse it, and even some Psychic tricks, too. I mean, you already have a few of those, Mister Past-Seer.”
“I, uh, I don’t think I reawakened that one yet,” Charizard admitted. “I lost most of that once I sided with Dark Matter…”
“Oh. Exchanged the past for the negative present.” Solgaleo nodded. “Well, reawakening that might be useful.”
“You also talk a little strangely,” Reflection suddenly said. “What’s with that? Another… instinct?”
“Oh, no. In my hypothetical memories, I spent more time with Necrozma and the other gods. Picked up their accent a little.”
“Hypoth—” Reflection rubbed his eyes like it would make him hear better. “Do those instincts also defend you from existential nightmares or something?!”
“Yes!” Solgaleo said cheerfully.
“…Why?!”
To that, Solgaleo opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it with a shrug.
“So, um…” Owen nervously raised a claw. “What’s your whole point about instincts?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Got distracted.” Solgaleo cleared his throat. “My point about instincts is… it’s part of who you are. You take great pride in your species, don’t you?” Solgaleo tilted his head at Charizard.
“Well… yes. It’s who I am. What I grew up as, and what I want to keep being.”
“Don’t you think that’s… interesting? You know, when you think about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well…” Solgaleo shrugged. “Most souls don’t get to
be the same thing for as long as you have. A century or so at most before they die and pass on, perhaps reincarnate, perhaps go into the Overworld… But never do they
stay a Charizard, for example, for… two thousand or so years?”
“And?”
“Basically… you already act like a super-mortal.” Solgaleo pawed at the ground. “It’s not as different as you think. You’ve spent so much time trying to be normal-minded that you didn’t realize how… weird it is to be normal in this kind of situation. And you
aren’t normal. You haven’t been normal in over a thousand years.”
Charizard shifted again, folding his wings as if defending against incoming attacks. He tried to find a neutral stance, only to realize that his neutral was a defensive position. Nothing else felt right.
“If you consider your ‘self’ as a Charizard part of your identity,” Solgaleo said gently, “then your ‘self’ has already been changed. You don’t… have thoughts like these as a normal Charizard.” He pointed at Wrath, who, enamored by the speech for once, had stopped clawing against the barrier. “No normal Charizard gets used to the things you have gone through. And no normal Charizard would do so without untold mental scars and damage. And… while you
are hurt, you are functional. That is… abnormal.”
“But that’s a good thing, right?” Charizard defended. “I’m… I’m still me! So what if I can handle things a little better?”
“It is good,” Solgaleo agreed. “But what about everything else? About being a mutant and letting those instincts become part of you? Why did you spare him?”
At first, Charizard read that as an accusation. After looking directly at Solgaleo, he realized it was out of curiosity.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“You came all this way,” Solgaleo said. “You don’t seem to like me… The choice would be simple for you, wouldn’t it? You’d put me and that one to be discarded. You’d bring Owen and your reflection to your present mind. And you would pass through. That’s your answer, right?”
“No.”
Charizard turned to face Kyurem again, then at the statues where the sacrifices had to be made.
“I’m not giving any of it up. I need all of it.”
“…Even me?” Solgaleo asked.
“Yes.” Owen sighed. “I need to remember… that I made wrong choices. And that maybe I could’ve been happier. The regrets… I think they’re strong, too. They’ll remind me to think twice when I do… dramatic things.”
“And Wrath?” Solgaleo asked.
So he knew the name, too. “I need his fighting instincts. I need to be able to kill if I have to when I’m facing Alexander. I think he’ll take advantage of… if I hesitate otherwise.”
“I think I understand,” Solgaleo said. “Alexander is far beyond forgiveness. Even I can agree with that.”
“Wh-what about me?” Owen asked.
“I can’t forget what it’s like to go through what you did,” Charizard said, nodding. “To feel lost and confused, weak and helpless. If I’m making decisions for people a lot weaker than I am, even if I don’t
want the world to be like that… I need to remember them. I can’t lose sight of that.”
“Another noble gesture,” Solgaleo agreed. “But… unfortunately, I do not think you can achieve that here. Do you see a way through?” Solgaleo gestured to the statues that loomed over them.
Their regal sparkle mocked Charizard and, in that silence, he wondered if those lifeless eyes were connected to any living souls.
“The way forward cannot open unless you activate them with your sacrifices,” Solgaleo said. “Even if we tried to brute force the way through somehow, it’d take a lot of time. This is the Dungeon of the Dragon Guardian. The power needed to overwhelm it… Can you imagine?”
“We have a world to save. Aramé wouldn’t stall us for that, would she?” Owen asked.
“I don’t know,” Solgaleo said. “But you know how Aramé can be when it comes to conviction and ideals. To a fault.”
“Ironic,” Charizard muttered.
“Takes one to know one,” Solgaleo pointed out.
Charizard glared, tail thwapping against the marble ground enough to leave a crack. He huffed a plume of smoke and stared at the wall again.
“…Then you’ll help us get through,” Charizard concluded.
“What?”
“I know you know what I’m talking about,” Charizard said pointedly. “You’re getting us past the wall. You know it’s a wall, don’t you?”
Solgaleo stiffened and adjusted his weight. “Well… yes… I guess I do…”
“And… you can do what Necrozma can do,” Charizard said.
“Only in here,” Solgaleo quickly said. “The domain of the Dungeon is like another world. And in it, I’ve been given a lot of power… including… doing what I
could hypothetically do in my… nonexistent timeline.”
“Again with the existential sentences.” Charizard rubbed his eyes. “Seriously, does it bother you at all? You have memories of a life that never happened. Of a timeline I never explored. You’ve existed for less than a day. Why aren’t you upset?”
“I think I was made to not be upset,” Solgaleo said flatly. “Another instinct.”
“I… don’t think I like Aramé,” Owen said grimly, holding his tail tight against his chest.
“Now, come on.” Solgaleo shook his head. “I’m a tiny part of you! In that sense, I’ve existed just as long as you have! Just as… ideas in your head. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to accept. I’m simply your regrets!”
“Oh,
good.” Charizard pointed at the wall. “Come on. Let’s go through.”
“That’s against the rules of the Dungeon,” Solgaleo said.
“And?” Reflection piped up as Charizard stomped to turn around and calm himself. “Don’t you think that being perfectly happy to follow everything your commander said is… a bad idea right now? If Aramé told you to stall me until the world ended, would you?”
“Well… no, I wouldn’t,” Solgaleo admitted. “But this—”
“I’m not letting anyone try to tamper with my head again,” Charizard cut in, turning around again. “I’ve had enough. I want to walk my own path without… someone,
anyone, trying to shape my thoughts with their divine power! Aramé, Star, even Mom, it’s…
enough.”
Owen loosened his grip on his tail. He stared at Wrath, who had settled into his little Protect bubble. It had gotten so thin, but he didn’t seem to care to strike at it.
“Even if, in this case,” Solgaleo said, “it might just wind up the same way? If you want no manipulation… why not put me in the discard pile? Maybe myself and… Wrath, who’s just a perversion of your violent flaws. You still have that in its moderated state. So…”
“Because no matter what you say,” Charizard said, “I… can’t trust that. It has to be by my own hands. At least that way, I know it’ll be done the way I want. Aramé might be good at this… but you know what? I’ve already done this before! And the five of us I sorted out were a
lot less agreeable than how we are right now.”
“That’s true…” Solgaleo sighed. “Fine, okay. I’ll help… but Aramé isn’t going to be happy about this.”
“She can do her worst.” Charizard huffed. “We’ve got enemies a lot stronger than her to deal with anyway.”
At least… he hoped so. Aramé was the most powerful Guardian. Owen didn’t think he would be able to stand up to her full wrath head-on. This was a risk, but… playing along was only going to waste more time. This was the best option. And it’d have the best outcome. It had to.
Solgaleo’s starry eyes twinkled. “We do.” He held a paw toward the wall. “Okay. Time for fake-but-works-here Ultra Wormholes into the goal. Come close, please.”
Reflection rolled Wrath over; Owen hopped on Charizard’s shoulder. As a strange puncture in the already twisted space formed in front of Solgaleo, Charizard offered one last glance at the statues, this time at Zekrom with a sharp frown.
Whatever test this was, he got through it on his own terms.
<><><>
Mu was unaffected by Dungeon distortions.
When Owen started wandering off and doing… whatever he was doing, and when Zena went in the other direction, Mu was left at the Dungeon entrance with nothing more than her book. Which she’d already finished reading.
She went back and grabbed the horns Owen had left behind so she could return them to him later. Then, she headed through the Dungeon like before. A weird beam of light hit her but didn’t do anything. Maybe it was supposed to. Oh well.
After several empty corridors, she spent a little time playing with the crystals in a big room with a glass wall. Boring. She ran ahead to a fancy-schmancy room with gaudy statues and no way forward.
Any time she saw something like that, it usually meant there was a hidden passageway, so she teleported past the room and continued down the hall.
“What?” called a deep voice. “How are you here?”
“Oh, hi.” Mu waved.
It was a Salamence and a Dragonite. The one who talked was the Salamence. Mu felt her irritation—that was the dominant emotion. She didn’t feel much from Dragonite, who stood at the side and tilted his head.
“How did you get past my Dungeon so quickly? Did you know the test?”
“I walked?”
A beat of silence. The irritation transitioned to confusion.
“What?”
“I walked. You know. Like, with my legs. Oh, except for when there was a dead end. Then I teleported because I didn’t want to bother finding the switch.”
“Why didn’t you teleport in the first place?”
“Dad said that was unhealthy and I’d become a blobby Charizard if I did that.”
Aramé squinted at her. Mu shrugged. “I might. I’m already part Void Shadow, so I’m practically a blob already.”
“You don’t seem like an—Ah!”
Mu melted into a puddle of black pudding-like material before reforming.
“Have you always been able to do that?” Aramé hissed.
“Picked it up a couple months ago. Dad said it might scare people. But you’re, like, the ultimate Guardian, right? So, it shouldn’t scare you.” She glanced at Dragonite, who was radiating mixtures of… shock and fear, yes. She was pretty sure that was it. And some disgust. “He is, though,” Mu added with a little smirk.
“Don’t rope Ire into this,” Aramé grunted.
“I, er… I never fought a Void Shadow before,” Ire admitted nervously. He had a slight accent that reminded Mu of a Kanto Pokémon. Dad had the smallest hint of it resurfacing, too, though it faded by the time he’d left for Alola and Orre.
Mu stretched her arms, legs, and tail, popping a few joints before stretching them even further to impossible angles. Then, she relaxed.
“How’s Mom and Dad doing?”
“Well, your father has made a mockery of at least two of my tests,” Aramé said.
“Sounds about right.”
“And your mother is… coming to her final decisions on which aspects of herself she values the most.”
“Aspects?” Mu asked.
“Oh, so you didn’t see
any of the tests,” Ire said. The Dragonite plopped down on his belly and tilted his head at Mu. “You’re adorable.”
“Thanks. But I’m trying to grow out of that.”
“You need to grow?” Ire asked. “You’re a Void Shadow, right? Can’t you just… change shape?”
“…Huh.” Mu scratched her cheek. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? You haven’t tried?”
“Hey, gimme a break!” Mu said. “I’m only, like, a year or something old!”
“Oh!” Ire flinched. “That’s all? You’re… you act like a teenager.”
“Guess I matured fast.” Mu rolled her eyes. “Comes with getting a bunch of knowledge and memory pieces from everyone in, uh…” She counted on her claws. “Kanto, Orre, Alola, and a little bit here in Kilo.”
“…Pieces of memories?” Aramé said. “Just by proximity?”
“Mhm. Including yours.”
She always liked that little pulse of insecurity she got from those she said that to. It was fun because usually, their most insecure secrets came up right after, involuntarily, for her to see.
Dad said she shouldn’t take advantage of that. But Aramé was mean to Mom and Dad, so she could do that to them. As a treat.
“You’re… well-adjusted for someone who feeds on and learns from nothing but negative emotions,” Aramé said.
“Thanks. Mom and Dad spent a lot of their downtime talking to me about the things I learned. I didn’t like it at first, but… I dunno. Eventually, I got curious… It became a knowledge thing. Like, academic?”
Mu thought back to the little birds she’d killed in Alola and averted her eyes.
“…Is there more to that?” Aramé asked. “For only having a year of life, much of who you are must have been written in your nature, rather than your upbringing.”
“Dad doesn’t like talking about that,” Mu said. “But I mean… I don’t have evil thoughts. Like, I don’t wanna enslave everyone to be my evil minions.”
“What do you want?” Ire asked. “Like… what does a being of negativity want?”
“I dunno. Ask my other bio-dad. For me, it’s just a power. How I get the knowledge, I mean. I don’t
feel it if I don’t want to… That’s what makes me different from Daddy Diyem.”
The pulse of startled revulsion from Aramé, and befuddlement from Ire, caught her off guard.
“What?”
“D… Daddy Diyem.”
“What? Too cursed?”
“Cursed?” Aramé repeated.
“Weird.”
“A bit.”
“Well, I’m gonna call him that and see how he reacts,” Mu said. “Anyway… I’ve been feeling a ton of irritation from you and how Dad broke all your tests, so I know what you wanted him to do. I thiiink I have a good idea what Mom’s doing, too. You said aspects, right? So I’m gonna bet…”
Mu thought about her mother. She was kind, but she always bottled up a fierce defiance, sometimes even more than Dad. It was surprising, in a way, that she didn’t also try to go against the test. Maybe she didn’t realize it was a test? No, her
ideal aspect would have explained everything…
Mu finally answered, “I think she’s going to keep her reflection and her weaker self.”
“Good guesses,” Aramé said impartially.
“…I can’t tell if you’re being coy or not.” Mu’s snout scrunched up. “That’s annoying. Show some negative emotion.”
“Oh, I’m just entertained at how you’d guess your parents’ decisions,” Aramé said. “I guess that’s not a
negative emotion… besides, I’m sure you feel my negativity at how
easily you were able to grasp what I know about my Dungeon.”
“Sorry.” Mu shrugged. “Being a walking violation of privacy runs in the family. Be happier. Maybe I won’t know you as well.”
Ire rubbed the top of his head in worry. “I’m not sure if you’d make for a great therapist or a terrible one.”
“Oh, I’d be terrible. Mostly because I’m only a yearish old.”
A gust of wind blew to punctuate the silence.
“…Sooo anyway, are they here yet?”
“They’re still deliberating,” Aramé murmured.
Mu huffed and whipped her tail on the ground again. She reached over and pulled at it and it grew and grew. She darkened her scales and pulled at the back of her head, growing a horn. She sharpened her snout until it became slightly more beak-like. Around that point, she felt a slow burn of horror coming from Ire and glanced his way.
“’Sup?” she asked.
“What are you doing?”
“Tryna evolve.”
“That’s not… that’s…” Ire sat up, gesturing to his arms. “You’re not… doing it right, I think.”
“Well, I’d ask for a mirror, but I think they’re all tests here,” Mu said. She let her body revert, melting back to its Charmander base state. “Guess maybe I still follow basic evolution… Maybe I’m like Dad and I have a different element. Like. Grassmander, right? So, I must be… Voidmander.”
Ire tilted his head with uncertainty in his aura.
“Too edgy?” Mu asked.
“Edgy?”
“Like, trying to act dark and brooding and cool, but it’s cringe instead.”
Ire and Aramé both stared at her blankly.
Mu sighed. “Never mind…” She dug into her torso and pulled out a book. “I’m just gonna read until they get here.”
She turned to the next chapter—this one on the relationship between Grass Pokémon and mundane plants—and ignored the typical waves of disgust from her audience at her book storage methods.
For someone a yearish old, waiting a few hours felt like an eternity.
<><><>
Five different kinds of Owen marched down the final hallway. Charizard led the pack. On his shoulder was Owen, the little Charmander who got a little braver every second. Beside him was Reflection, rolling Wrath in front just in case he lost it again. Taking up the rear and walking behind and between the two mirrored Charizard was Solgaleo, who had a guilty expression that avoided Aramé’s gaze as they walked to the Dungeon’s center.
This was where Zero Isle Spiral’s arms all met in a central vortex.
A thin layer of saltwater rippled with each step the Owen aspects took, mixing with fine sand and Dungeon rocks. Near the middle, atop a platform of rock only a foot higher than their current, sandy approach, was Salamence Aramé, Dragonite Ire, and Mu, still a Charmander. And, thankfully, unharmed and nonchalant.
“Wow, look at you,” Mu called, finally sitting up. “You’re walking up here like a five-draw from a gacha game. One dupe.”
“I don’t know what that is, Mu!” Charizard called routinely.
“So. You’ve arrived.” Aramé rose next, a mighty Salamence that managed to reach Charizard’s eye level while on all fours. “…And not only did you bypass my test, but you made a mockery of it.”
“Yeah.” Charizard wasn’t going to deny it. “I’m through with tests, Aramé. I already went through one with the Overseers, and I don’t know how many
other things I did that count as tests. So we’re done testing. I’m ready to save the world.”
Aramé offered a wry smile. “Save the world
again, you mean?” she said with a tone that Charizard refused to make him feel small.
“I know what I did wrong,” Charizard said. “It’s not happening again. And you know I’m the only one who can fix this now.”
“You’re probably right,” Aramé said. “If only by chance… and the powers you have. Under any other circumstance…”
“I’d be long dead and not the world’s problem,” Charizard completed.
“And what’s your plan?” Aramé asked. “Not for the world. But for this.” She gestured at the five of them.
“Oh, that’s true,” Ire piped up. “If you aren’t going to fuse …”
“No, we will,” Charizard said. “Aramé. You can dispel this, can’t you?”
“…Fine.” Aramé closed her eyes and took a breath. Aura encircled her…
Charizard’s claw twitched. He grasped the aura and pulled.
Aramé’s senses were sharp. The great Dragon Guardian snarled and lunged for Charizard, only for all five aspects to pull up a Protect barrier.
“You!” Aramé growled. “What are—”
Charizard clutched at the piece of aura he’d stolen.
“Proving a point,” Charizard said, his head only inches away from Aramé’s, split by a barrier. He saw the details of her scales, every wrinkle between her battle-worn skin. She trained often while inside her little domain. Her home away from the rest of the world. Her ideal place.
Charizard harnessed the aura in his hands, which flared up like a fire that had been offered the driest brush. Owen, Reflection, Wrath, and Solgaleo all looked at their hands and paws… and disappeared into motes of light, crashing down upon Charizard, and covering him in a thin layer of gold. This light, too, faded.
Owen opened his eyes. A rush of memories returned to him, but at this point, he was used to it. Some memories were fragmented hypotheticals from Solgaleo of a time that never happened, conjured by Aramé’s hypotheses and theories of what could have happened in an ideal world. He thought of them as daydreams… but there was merit to it. There was value in regret.
“Why do you insist,” Aramé said, “on hoarding all of your memories?”
“Um, I’m… lost,” Ire admitted. The Dragonite stepped next to Mu. “What did Owen do?”
“He did… something close to what I would have done,” Aramé said, “but clearly, he’s more Dragon than I. The pride he has in doing all matters himself is more than enough to make even
Arceus look modest.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “At least you admit he’s… Look. I’m doing this because I am
done with people tampering with my mind. Understand?”
Aramé’s jaw clenched, though she didn’t object.
“It’s not pride. It’s control. And I’m taking it. No more people trying to change my
identity through my instincts, through controlling or suppressing my memory, through any of that. If you want to change me, do it the old-fashioned way. With a talk. With a
fight. And—give me back my horns!”
“What? Oh. Right.” Aramé sighed, glancing at Ire.
“Oh!” Ire quickly flapped his tiny wings and went to one of the spiral’s arms, returning with a small bowl with Owen’s horns in them. “Er, here you go. Thank you for putting those in.”
“…What would have happened if I brought those with me?” Owen asked.
“Nothing. I was relying on your… politeness.”
“Oh.” Somehow this was the least expected answer. He thought that was a lie Solgaleo had been told. “…Well, you used most of that up with what happened right after.”
“I can tell.” Aramé shook her head as Owen removed his clay replicas and slipped them into his bag. He gently put his true horns back and sighed, relieved, as his Perceive returned to him.
And just within range, he sensed Zena slithering in from another of the spiral’s arms.
“Oh, hey! Mom’s here!” Mu said, running over to her. “Mom! How’d you do on your test?”
“
There you are.” Zena quickened her slithering. Owen noted that it was just
one of her… Based on how Aramé was smiling at Zena, followed by casting a glare Owen’s way, she must have gone through the test properly.
“Zena…” Owen nervously approached. “Are you… still Zena?”
“I am, Owen. Don’t worry.” She nodded. “In fact, I feel… lighter. The Dungeon helped isolate some… parts of myself that I wasn’t happy with anyway. It was only a boost in the direction I’d wanted all along.”
Owen still didn’t like it, but… it was her choice. She took advantage of it in her way. That was fine.
“What was it like for you?” Owen asked.
Ire left the area and returned with bunches of berries and a few balls of leaves from some storage area in the Spiral’s center. He set them up so they could sit and recover from their examinations and travel, and during it, Zena talked about what she’d gone through, and Owen exchanged similar tales.
The biggest differences were how Zena had to defeat her ‘angry’ aspect, while Owen was able to contain his… and that while Owen bypassed the final test, Zena made her choices exactly as requested. However, when Zena got to the point where she’d made her decision…
“Something for… me to talk about later,” Zena admitted, glancing away. “I need some time to process it.”
“What?” Owen whispered. “Did you… get rid of Lugia?”
“Later, Owen,” Zena said gently. The Milotic coiled a little tighter and leaned against Owen as they sat against each other. Mu stopped reading to listen, looking pensive.
“Did you…
want to be Lugia?” Owen said nervously. He tried to ignore the cold feeling in his chest.
“Don’t worry, Owen. I don’t… I don’t know how it all worked out. It’s fuzzy to me. Can I have some time to think about it?”
That wasn’t any help, but… he respected that. Maybe her mind was still trying to adjust to everything. It was disorienting; Owen knew that. “Okay. Sorry.”
“I’m also sorry,” Zena said. “I know you have bad experiences with… mates becoming Legends.”
“That—but you didn’t make any decisions because of
me, right?” Owen asked, defying his knee-jerk reactions. Sure, he didn’t want Zena taking on that… but he didn’t want her deciding because of how
he felt.
“No.” Zena shook her head. “I knew you’d be upset if I based my decisions on… how you felt alone. But it’s hard to… recall exactly. I’ll tell you later, when I have it sorted.”
Just talking to her… she felt like
herself. That was good enough. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Mm.” Ire nodded sagely. “Zero Isle Spiral tests your strength, but your spirit grows if it can conquer the Dungeon. As the world’s most powerful Guardian, she can give the Spiral’s Blessing to anyone who completes that final test.”
“The Spiral’s Blessing…” Owen tilted his head. “What’s it do?”
“For you? Nothing substantial,” Aramé admitted. “It’s only a little more. It’s the ability to push yourself even further and draw out the true strength that lay dormant within all Pokémon—the ability to be a god, however small. I mostly did this test… to see if you had the mentality necessary to confront Dark Matter, who would take advantage of every insecurity you had. Every mental weakness, every… Shadow.”
“I had a feeling that was the case even before meeting Lugia,” Zena said. “Still… you could have gone without the strange, cryptic tests.”
Ire chuckled. “Well, it was on short notice,” he said. “An Overseer had requested it and we didn’t have a lot of time to prepare. We used what Aramé always used.”
Zena sighed, glancing at Owen. He let the annoyance slide and fade. He’d
already proven himself to that Overseer. But if Hecto and Necrozma were anything to go by, the Overseers were thorough when they wanted to be. And redundant.
“One way or another, we got here,” Owen said. “That means we passed, right?”
“Yes.
You passed… by technicality.” Aramé flashed a glare. “I could kill you for it, but that wouldn’t do much.” Her tail whipped at the ground. “…Zena passed properly. Congratulations to you, Zena.”
An awkward nod was Zena’s reply.
“…Well, I guess that’s it,” Owen said. “But Aramé… You’re coming with us, right?”
“What?”
“To help against Dark Matter. We need all the help we can get.”
“…I’m not as strong outside of my domain, this Spiral, you know.”
“You’ve been no help here,” Owen said flatly. “We had to come to you. Aside from when you helped Arceus in the Ethereal Forest, have you been able to do
anything other than… guard?”
“…Those were my orders. I must guard this place.”
“Is that relevant anymore?” Owen said. “C’mon. We need to be all at the front to defend everyone else.”
“If I leave, this Dungeon could become infected,” Aramé warned. “We can’t have that. Void Shadows emerging from the former Dragon Guardian’s Dungeon?”
“…Right.” Owen stretched his wings behind him but kept his arms crossed. “…Then you’re going to help me in one last way.”
“How?” Aramé said with a suspicious glare.
“We’re going to battle.”
Ire perked up.
“You’ve spent too long in the human world,” Aramé said with an entertained smirk. “Battle, me? In my domain? You realize this would—”
“It’ll be the same, right?” Owen countered. “You could kill me, but that wouldn’t mean much.”
“I was speaking figuratively,” Aramé grunted. “…Fine. What about you?” Aramé eyed Zena.
“Where Owen fights, I fight,” Zena replied.
“Hm. Ire.”
The Dragonite sprang to his feet and thwacked his tail on the ground. The earth rumbled, leaving a fissure that trailed to a spiral arm behind him. Sand and water filled in the crack. Aramé stepped away to gain some distance and she murmured a plan to Ire. Owen could read what they said with his Perceive… but they were talking in shorthand. It could have meant anything.
“…Yeah, I’ll uh…” Mu vanished, reappearing at the center’s edge. “Good luuuuck!” she called.
Zena coiled up and readied herself. Her feather-fan covered her face, hiding her first prepared move, while Owen watched Aramé closely. It looked like Aramé was someone who preferred to finish things quickly. She wasn’t going to hold back, even for a sparring match. Ire… Owen didn’t know much of Ire, but he wasn’t as big of a threat. But he could get in the way…
“Zena,” Owen whispered. “I want you to prepare Life Dew after you attack Ire. Like we practiced.”
“Okay.”
That was all they needed. It was a new strategy, but they’d spent a lot of time in the human world planning for things like this.
“Ready?” Aramé called.
“We’re ready.”
“Mu,” Aramé called. “Mark the battle’s opening.”
“Oh, uh… okay!” She cleared her throat and stood up straight. “This is a battle between Guardian Aramé with Spirit Ire and Guardians, uh… Mom and Dad! Trainers—uh, I mean, fighters, ready… begin!”
As predicted, Aramé wasted no time in toying with her foes. She gave everything she had in one strike, conjuring meteors in the sky and raining them down upon Owen with exact precision. Owen brought his arms up and created a barrier, blocking the attack and kneeling from the force it exerted anyway. Ire flew in with his claws enveloped in indigo fire, but Zena deflected it with a powerful Hydro Pump.
While that didn’t do much, she chained it with an Ice Beam, flash-freezing the Dragonite mid-flight. She grabbed the new rod of ice with Ire at the end with her tail and, despite it being tens of feet long, swung it at Aramé as she conjured her meteors.
Ire
slammed into Aramé and pinwheeled into the ground below, dissolving before he could even get a hit in. Aramé, however, was barely affected by the combination strike.
That struck Owen as odd. Ire dissolved far too easily.
His Perceive didn’t detect it, but his eyes did: Ire’s phantom loomed over Aramé, bolstering her aura to the point where it felt like Owen’s scales were peeling off. It warped the light around her as the Draco Meteor onslaught continued, giving Owen no break.
Then came the soothing cool of Life Dew. It wasn’t much, but it kept Owen going long enough to grasp at the Draco Meteor’s essence… and Aramé’s power.
Just what he was waiting for.
The meteors finally stopped. Aramé had to rest—but her aura was as strong as ever. The fatigue that Draco Meteor usually inflicted on the user… simply didn’t manifest. Aramé was truly powerful…
But the battle was already over.
“You’re still standing,” Aramé remarked. “But it looks like you don’t have the strength to fight back.”
Owen was on his knees, one hand in the sand, the other on that arm’s bicep.
“I wasn’t aiming at you.”
Owen’s flame turned black and white. That energy spiraled around his tail, up his back, and into his arm where it mixed with Aramé’s power. Then, he pumped it into the sand, where the energy rippled out in a single pulse. It trailed around every spiral’s arm in a matter of seconds and infected the walls of the Dungeon.
Aramé gasped. “
STOP!” she roared.
Hastily, she conjured a second Draco Meteor—
Too late.
Owen sent a second pulse, triggering a Dungeon-wide shockwave. Zena took on a defensive stance and covered her eyes. Mu crossed her arms and formed a black-white Protect. And everything around Owen erupted in Chaotic energy. He heard something shatter, ethereal and glass-like. When he glanced upward, he saw the very skyline light up, twist, and break.
The labyrinth collapsed into piles of sand. The meteors evaporated with the blast. And the oppressive atmosphere of the Dungeon… became nothing but a memory.
In complete shock, Aramé only stared. Owen pointed a claw at her, forming several meteors above the arena. He held them.
“…Give up?” Owen asked.
“Owen…” Zena looked around. “What… was that?”
“Testing a theory,” Owen said. “It’s for something I’m going to need to do a lot more.”
Aramé landed—stumbled—on the Spiral. She stared, left and right, and the ruins of the spiral, which was now more like a grassy sandbar.
“You… it’s gone,” she whispered in total disbelief. “Owen, what did you do? What did… you… DO?!”
Owen stood tall, frowning. “I sealed a wound that Kilo has. I closed a gateway into the Voidlands.”
“YOU BLEW UP MY HOME?!”
“W-well,
yes, but you were coming with us
anyway, so—”
Aramé turned her body around and whipped Owen with her tail across his face. A golden barrier dulled the pain… but she had quite the swing. It still stung.
“Okay, I deserved that one—”
She swung again. Then clawed at his belly. Each hit was blocked by a barrier and Owen nervously stepped back. Every strike conveyed anger, but… he also sensed that Aramé was impressed—and not as mad as she could have been.
After several more blows—Zena and Mu awkwardly watching—Aramé stomped her paw on the ground and huffed.
“Completely and utterly unnecessary,” Aramé said. “You could have informed me of this ploy. I would have agreed.”
Owen had his doubts.
“But… you must have sensed it, too,” she said. “The weakening barrier. Did you think Alexander would have tried to pass through here?”
“It would’ve been bad if he did,” Owen said. “But… don’t worry. Yours is the first of many. I figured out how to seal off the Dungeons. And if we do that… we can control where Alexander emerges from.”
“I see…” Her anger slowly subsided. “…And… Arceus must also have informed you that my time to leave this place was at hand anyway.”
Owen nodded. “But you couldn’t,” she said, “because you had to guard the Dungeon. So, I got rid of that part. I wasn’t sure if it was possible…”
Aramé sighed. “Next time,” she said, “
explain what you will do. We can’t have improvisations for the true fight.”
“I will,” Owen said with a shrinking flame.
“He just wanted to be cool,” Mu piped up.
“I didn’t! It just seemed like the best way to get Aramé’s strongest hit! I think… it wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”
“Oh?” Aramé said.
“Yeah.” Owen made vague gestures with his hands. “See, the way it works is, when I Usurp an attack, I need to—”
“Um, can this wait?” Mu suddenly spoke up.
“What?”
Mu pointed at the northern horizon.
Owen had been so focused on Aramé and the others that he didn’t realize a giant, shadowy leviathan with five heads and countless eyes had been flying toward them. And now that he had some reading done in the human world… Nate looked a
lot like Eternatus in its unleashed form. Yet… somehow even more disturbing. Blackened and covered in eyes… What was up with that?
“Isn’t that Nate?” Zena said.
“Yes. Why is he coming here?” Aramé murmured. “Come. Let’s meet him. I’ll have my comeuppance with you afterward.”
Owen winced. She meant it.
<><><>
They met at the former Spiral’s northern arm’s edge. Nate landed gingerly, making several waves anyway due to his size. Owen landed just in front of him, craning his neck up as he figured out which eye to look at. Aramé, Zena, and Mu stood behind him.
“Hey, Nate,” he said. “You… came to see us?”
Yes. I… must ask you something, Nate said.
Him, specifically? That answered a few suspicions Owen had.
The report from Alola… told him that a small piece of his spirit was missing. It couldn’t be in the Voidlands—he was whole after that ordeal, and nobody found a trace of him afterward. He hadn’t been fragmented there.
All the other Dungeons were the same way. If they sought Owen out, they found nothing. The piece missing… had to have been old. Ancient. And hidden somewhere nobody had the opportunity to check…
His first guess had been Zero Isle Spiral, somehow. But obviously—even though it
loved to fragment those who entered—Owen hadn’t recovered a thing. His fragment wasn’t sealed here.
And now, Nate was coming here, just before Owen planned to set off to find it.
That’s when he realized just what happened.
“Nate,” Owen said. “…May I have my final piece back?”
Most of Nate’s eyes widened with surprise. Zena and Aramé glanced at each other with confusion. Mu leaned forward, her attention on something else of Nate.
…It’s… exactly as you planned, Nate said, somewhere between awe and disbelief.
From the palm of the hand-like, multi-headed creature, a small, golden mote emerged and drifted toward Owen. It said nothing, yet Owen felt a warm, proud, triumphant smile radiating off its aura.
“Hey,” Owen said. “How… old are you?”
The mote of light pulsed rhythmically. The waves settled again after Nate’s shifting stopped.
Then, in a voice like Wishkeeper’s, yet with the serenity of a white cloud, the mote said,
Let me show you.
It drifted to Owen’s chest…
And Owen’s two thousand years of memories unified with a thousand more.
<><><>
Author's Note: Thanks, everyone, for reading! Incoming is the final Special Episode of HoC. As such, expect it to take twice as long to get out. The publication date for the final Special Episode will be May 19th. See you then!
