Pokémon Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

[Namohysip]

Chapter 110 - Halves​

Hakk had forgotten what the sky was supposed to look like.

He’d gone blind for a long while. Suddenly, everything had been a bright light, originating from the center of town. Only after some time passed did Hakk feel it was safe enough to open his eyes again.

“Oh, you’re kidding me…”

In the center of town, where the sentinel tower had once been, an even greater structure now loomed over Null Village. At first, Hakk didn’t recognize it; it was too foreign. Tall, cylindrical at the base, but with a great, overflowing bloom of prismatic leaves and golden lights. It hurt to look at for long and Hakk averted his gaze.

Something brushed against his nose and he sneezed, blinking several times. His vision was spotty, glimmering lights obscuring his view, before he realized that the spots didn’t move with his eyes. He grabbed blindly at one and felt something in the air.

Transparent leaves, like feathers, rained down. It got in his spikes and clung to his body.

The leaves sparkled against the bright glow that the tree gave off, and for a while, despite everything that happened, Hakk could only stare at it, transfixed. He’d never seen anything like it in… ever? Had he ever seen something like this before, even when he was alive? He couldn’t remember anymore. It had been so long. Shimmering, prismatic rain.

Someone pecked at his shoulder. He knew the feeling anywhere; there was no need to look. “Hey, Xy.” He rubbed his cheek, thoughtful.

Xypher cawed.

“Pretty, huh?” Hakk said.

“You’re big. Big, big…”

“Oh, yeah. That. Don’t worry about it. Hey, did Mhynt mess with you at all?”

“No. No, no. We ate.”

“You… ate?” His heart skipped a beat. “You didn’t cook anything for her, did you?” Trying to keep his tone even, he glanced at the Corviknight. He had to crane his neck a lot less to address him. This wasn’t so bad.

Xypher cawed again. “She liked it! Good. Good, good.”

But then, someone just down the road caught his attention. Mhynt was coming closer, though she was speaking into her badge.

“Yes,” Mhynt said to it, “I am not able to get Owen at this time. The mission was a failure. I will be returning with my intel as soon as my powers return.”

“Until your—what do you mean, return? Where are they?!”

“The sheer radiance of that tree, combined with my encounter with the new Psychic Guardian, countered your power, sir. My powers are not usable. I will return once I am able.”

“Is Dark Matter also there?”

“Yes. He is likely also not going to be able to approach Null Village.”

Hakk wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be hearing this. Mhynt was looking right at him. Oh, Stars, he was dead. He was supposed to get Owen and he just walked away. Did she find out? Suddenly, Hakk wanted Xypher to get away as fast as possible.

“Rrgh, fine. I’m going to send guards your way to escort you back early so you can’t be attacked. Wait a day in hiding.”

“Of course.” Mhynt shut the badge off, then stared at Hakk. “You are now my bodyguard. Understood?”

“What?”

“You heard this. Now, hide me in your home.” Mhynt gestured behind him. “I will be sure repairs are funded.”

Hakk stood back in slight awe, but then sighed. “Well, guess I am under your authority,” he muttered. “Fine. But keep Xypher out of this, you got it?”

“Very well.” Mhynt looked at the Corviknight. “I suppose he should be earning his ranks over time anyway.”

“Right.” Hakk wondered if Mhynt could undo the memory locks within Xypher, maybe upgrade him to Class B… There was no telling with her. She kept those powers quiet. Only now did he realize how truly powerful she was, despite only being a Treecko…

“Are you going to continue staring?” Mhynt asked.

“Geh—no. Right. My place.” Hakk spun on his heel.

“And how did acquiring Owen go?” Mhynt added with a knowing hum in her voice.

“One of those freaking mutant things threatened to eat me, so that was way above my pay—way more than I could handle.”

“A wise rephrase.” She tapped her blade on the ceramic tile. “Very well. And they evaded me, as well, so I suppose I cannot blame you completely.”

Oh, completely? “Yeah, they’re clever. Y’know, they know where I live. They might find you.”

“Hmph. Even if I’m weak, I can handle them,” Mhynt said leisurely. “Let them come.”

<><><>​

The peace and quiet that Nevren had to work on his projects had been a true godsend. And, ironically, it was largely because a certain god was not trying to speak to him. Nevren greatly preferred ninety seconds of silence so he could Revise as much as he liked to think and think and think over the same issue before finally putting something to work.

Nevren was very particular about his free moments. If there was any little disturbance or any sudden noise, he’d reset his countdown. Any idle noise, any constant hum, even the smallest pitter-patter of a mutant walking outside counted as a disturbance. And once he was met with a completely empty moment, that was the best time to revise. Peace, for as long as he wished.

And with all that time, he was finally able to get the next mockup of his Dungeon opener, and this time with a faster closure mechanism! He could only hope that whatever that pearl resonated with would not resonate again… or they were at least less hostile. Owen—or someone that was certainly much like Owen—had been fighting that behemoth. It would be safer now, yes? Or they were dead. That was also possible. But not knowing was worse. If they were dead, he could report that as a certainty to Arceus and the others. A decrease in morale? Likely. But they at least would get it over with and focus their energy elsewhere.

Back to the repurposed Beammaker he went. Standing in the observation deck, he revved up the engines required, drew from the power like before, and idly wondered if Lavender would be back soon to exchange the spirits within so they didn’t get stir-crazy. He supposed it wouldn’t be much of a bother.

The beam fired, forming another eight-sided star that constantly felt familiar and frustratingly at the forefront of his mind, yet unreachable. Cursed Decree. Nevren wondered how long it would torment him.

Below, a truly unexpected sight greeted Nevren. This time, it was a town with a huge, glimmering tree in the middle, with bright bark and glassy, rainbow leaves. A town of dark stone and clay streets, which he saw from a bird’s eye view. Countless wraiths shuffled about inside, near the edges of town, and Nevren hopped down when he realized that there was no titanic monster this time. Still, he kept the remote shutdown switch in his hands to be absolutely safe.

Several wraiths stopped moving and looked skyward—at least, he imagined so. Why else would they stop moving? Their undiscernible forms made it hard to read where they were looking.

Nevren squinted. Could that be right? Were those… actual Pokémon? It was hard to tell with the rainbow leaves speckling the ground with color, but—

Yes! They were! Though, they were only gathered around the tree. He recognized a few of them instantly.

“Team Alloy!” Nevren called, hoping he was close enough and loud enough that they noticed. “Hello!” He waved from the edge of the portal, careful not to fall in. Curiously, the portal’s edge felt rounded and warm.

And there was someone else there. Two someones that were so large they were hard to ignore.

Nevren’s heart fluttered. Dialga. Palkia. He recognized them. Dialga especially, with an odd fondness. And Palkia… His form had been so thoroughly missing from his memory. He couldn’t look away. Those pearls within his shoulders glowed brightly. They looked cracked.

“Ah…” That explained it. The pearl he had used for the Dungeon resonance machine and the power within Palkia were one and the same—yes! That meant if he had another means to resonate with someone, he would be able to create a portal above them! Frantically, Nevren wrote down several of these notes as Palkia ascended to the sky and toward the portal.

Halfway there, his form suddenly dissolved into a monstrous, blackened creature that was only vaguely the same shape as before. Nevren steadied his heart and prepared to close the portal.

“Hello!” greeted the beast, waving.

Nevren was millimeters from pressing the button when he stopped.

“From what I was just told,” it said, “you have opened the sky twice now! Congratulations! That means your experiments are slowly forming a pattern. Very good!”

“Yes, very good indeed…” Nevren slowly lowered the device. It really was Palkia. Inhabitants of that horrible landscape appeared this way naturally, and yet when near that tree, the illusion was dispelled. Or was the realm itself the one casting an illusion? Or were they both real? So many questions… He could start with one he suspected the answer to. “You are… Palkia?”

“Indeed! And you are Alakazam!”

“Yes. I am Alakazam Nevren. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise!” He gestured below. “Do you recognize anyone else? Perhaps my comrade in arms?”

“…Dialga?” Nevren said. “Yes. I remember Dialga fondly. I’m… afraid I do not recall why.”

“Ahh. Erasure from history, and yet your bond with Dialga has not been shaken! How poetic! I do hope we can compare notes on how we have interacted with that phenomenon.”

…He liked Palkia.

The titan attempted to emerge from the portal, but once he did, he seemed to wince and fall back. “Ah… I’m afraid I do not think I can go through here. Quite painful. You are in the living realm, correct?”

“Yes. And where are you?”

“A place known as the Voidlands. It is Dark Matter’s domain, though I have recently been told that it is also Hydreigon Alexander’s, too. They are competing for power. Very curious.”

“Hydreigon? Alexander?” Nevren tilted his head. “I know an Alex of the same species. Are they related? What is his temperament?”

“Quite evil! Devious! Devilish!”

“Ah, unrelated.” Nevren noted it down regardless. “In any case, I will be opening this portal regularly within the next few days to continue contact. Will that inconvenience anyone?”

And he wondered why Gahi was not flying toward him. Surely, they felt a need to do that. In fact… where was Owen?

Dialga was coming with Demitri and Mispy atop his back. Curiously, Gahi was not present. Their bodies also dissolved into shadowy wraiths, and once again Nevren suppressed his reflexes to close the portal.

“Demitri, Mispy,” Nevren greeted, but then smiled at the four-legged titan they were riding on. “And… Dialga.”

“Nevren. I can’t believe it… After all this time, you’re still alive.”

“I could say the same to you, old friend.” Nevren’s heart fluttered a little. “I kept your charm safe all this time, by the way.”

A horrible rumble that was supposed to be his laugh shook Nevren’s chest. He suppressed a wince. This darkness was truly awful; he had to find a way to free them.

“Really!” Dialga shouted. “Well, I hope it was of use!”

“It certainly was. But right now, I’d like an update on what exactly is happening down there. Who all is there?” Nevren pulled up yet another notebook. “We’re missing quite a few from Hot Spot,. But seeing everyone there is encouraging.”

“Right, um, Zena, Jerry, Enet, and Trina are with us, too. It’s called the Voidlands, and we’re in Null Village. And Anam, but, um, he’s busy searching for Dark Matter. Owen’s that tree.” Demitri pointed down toward the radiant landmark. “Gahi got… attacked. We’re trying to find a way to get his spirit back. Right now, he’s under control of the Unown.”

Nevren jotted it all down and decided to cover the more absurd statements later. “And what of Star and Valle?” he asked. “Those are the two still unaccounted for.”

Demitri made what might have been a shrugging motion. “No idea for either of them.”

“Hmm.” Well, Valle wasn’t very important, but the fact that Star was missing was worrisome. “Thank you. Now, I’d like to return to something you said.”

“Okay.”

“Owen is a tree.”

“Yeah.”

“How and why?”

“Um, Aster turned Owen into an apple, and Owen had the idea to be planted with a bunch of energy so he’d become a tree. Actually, it was kind of both the Unown’s idea and his, or something.”

That… led to more questions than answers. He wasn’t sure how much energy was left in the Beammaker to maintain the connection.

“I see. Well. I will try to resonate with you again shortly,” Nevren said. “It was good to see you again, Dialga.”

“Likewise,” said the Timekeeper.

“Ah, and Palkia… from what Rhys has told me, I will be sure to send him your regards.”

“Ah, perfect, perfect! So he’s alive as well? That’s truly wonderful.”

“Rhys, Rhys…” Dialga hummed. “I don’t know who that is.”

Nevren was about to explain, but then paused.

Something… felt strange about that.

Irritatingly, it was rattling around in his mind but he had no means of sorting it out with the Beammaker’s distracting hum in the air. “Right. I will contact you all later. Do take care, and—ah. I would like to return the bag that one of your companions dropped. One moment.”

After a few Teleports, Nevren returned and handed it over.

“Oh, that must be what Latias lost,” Demitri said. “Um… thanks, Nevren. So you’re helping us now?”

“I always have been,” Nevren said.

A tense silence followed, and Nevren was glad the Beammaker was starting to fizzle, because he did not have the time nor patience to explain himself again.

“The portal will close soon,” Nevren said, “Goodbye for now.”

“Right…”

With a wave, they descended back into the Voidlands, and the portal closed.

<><><>​

The pillar of light had briefly turned the nighttime sky to something like the late afternoon. And when it faded, and after only the stars were left to light the sky, a meeting was held with all the top Hearts. Leo and Spice came first, followed by Phol carrying a half-asleep Angelo; Rhys, Step, and the other Guardians with their spirits were also there. Representing Trina’s mutants, Har also attended, though the Charizard’s dim flame suggested he’d barely gotten up from the mutant encampment in Kilo Village’s outskirts.

“Right.” Rhys sighed. “This complicates things. What do we do? Was that a signal? Not even Arceus knows what that was truly about.”

“All I know is when I first saw it, felt like I’d been in the sun for five days straight.” Spice rubbed her arms, as if the burn was still there.

“It was very bright,” Leo agreed. “I was seeing spots for a while.” The Delphox gestured to the Salazzle next to him. “But it also looked like it really took out that dark vortex. Do you think it’ll happen again?”

“If it does, that may be our best time to storm Hot Spot and eliminate the vortex completely.” Rhys paced in the middle of the main lobby of the Heart HQ. Bright lights countered the nighttime sky and felt somehow more intense, perhaps because most of the mortals among the crowd just wanted to sleep. “If only we knew when another strike like that would happen…”

“Hey, so, what’s this mean for our current mission?” Spice asked. “I’m set to go to Void Basin, down southwest?”

“That may still be necessary for scouting,” Rhys said. “But perhaps a smaller team, if we decide to go for that vortex. We’re communicating with Arceus now, who is speaking to one of our researchers to see if we can get more information before heading in.”

“Speaking to Arceus,” Phol said with a wry smile. “To think he’s saying that seriously, and it’s true. What a time to be alive.”

Elder stood by the Lucario’s side, leaning his shell against his thigh. “There is a lot that we still do not know, and yet that light is one of the greatest beacons of hope we’d seen in a long time.” The Torkoal smiled at the corners of his mouth. “Blinding as it was, I think everyone was filled with hope from that.”

“Gyehh.” Nearby, one of the many shapeless things that came from Nate bobbed in affirmative. There were a few speckled around the conference area.

Rhys tried to be cordial. “Nate, or, er, one of Nate’s… disciples… do you have any news?”

The thing trembled and three of its seven eyes blinked.

“That means… no, I believe. Well. It’s not a bother. Thank you. Has Nate’s strength returned at all?”

“Nngg.”

Spice shifted uncomfortably. “What are those things? They’ve been here for days and I don’t really know what to think of them. Do they eat? Breathe? Sleep?”

“As far as we can tell,” Rhys said, “they appear to be the Dark Guardian’s spirits. But I’ve never seen creatures become so warped by a host’s influence—well, aside from ADAM, but that’s beside the point.”

The Porygon-Z in question buzzed. “Systems are fully operational.”

Suddenly, Rhys’ gaze shot to the ceiling of the Heart HQ. “What? …They—they’re really alive? That blast… was Owen?!”

A ripple of surprise washed over the group, striking Willow the strongest. She jumped onto Rhys’ head in a single bound. “What? Owen? We talked to him?! Where? Let’s save him NOW!”

Rhys plucked her from his head and placed her on Elder’s shell. “Owen… has apparently been residing in a strange world where the inhabitants all appear as wraiths. And not only that, but Legendary Pokémon that have been faded into myth are there, too. It must be a plane of reality that is beyond just our own. And if they’re wraiths…”

“Whoa, that was five different crazies you just said there.” Spice raised a hand. “One more time, and slower.”

“…It’s apparently called the Voidlands. Our top researcher is investigating it now, opening a portal several times to ask more questions while he can. And Owen has become something that can blast from within the Voidlands, and apparently to our realm. Since his body is probably still in Hot Spot, that must be where it manifested…”

“Owen became something?” repeated Brandon, looking incredulous. His steel fingers tapped loudly against his biceps. “What’s that mean, exactly?”

“Er. A tree. A large tree.”

Silence.

“Eh. I buy it.” Brandon shrugged. “Better question: can he do that again?”

“We don’t know. But it’s likely he can, when he has the energy. I think we have our new mission.” Rhys faced them all. “Most of us will be preparing a timed assault on Hot Spot to see what we can do against that vortex and, if immediate action can be taken, eliminate it right then. Some of you will continue investigating points of interest.” Rhys nodded at Spice and Leo, who were tasked with investigating Void Basin. “Some will also remain behind in Kilo Village to continue defending the city.” And at this, he nodded at Phol.

“Is everything clear? I will be setting out specific assignments to you all in the coming day.”

There were various affirmations from most of the team. Rhys took note that Angelo had looked away, murmuring something. He’d have to talk to him later.

“Good,” Rhys said. “Dismissed. Good work, everyone. Perhaps this will be over soon.”

Mercifully, the rest of the night passed uneventfully.

<><><>​

“MUTANT!”

“H-hey, get out!”

“Get out!”

“Seriously?” Ani snarled, her many vines thrashing in random directions. “I’m here to help!” She pinned the injured Croconaw down and channeled healing energy through one of her vines and into his shoulder.

“G-get off! AAAH! It’s—it’s gonna eat me!”

“Oh, shut up!” Ani tossed the terrified creature into a few of the other onlookers, several of them making empty, threatening gestures toward her. They scrambled behind tables and hid around the corner of the hallway that led into the patients’ room, where several recently rescued Pokémon lay injured. Healing supplies were short as usual and the usual healers were totally tapped out of energy. Ani had sensed their dying auras through the wall. How could she turn away from that?

An Incineroar shoved his way past a few terrified nurses. “What’s going on in here?” he snarled. “We—oh. Ani.”

“Can you get your idiot subordinates to lay off?” the mutant Meganium pointed an accusatory vine at them. “If they actually removed me, these Pokémon would have died!”

“They seemed stable…” Incineroar pointed out.

“Their auras were weak. I could tell from the outside,” Ani said. “In fact, everyone here seemed weaker, maybe from fatigue, but these ones were a flicker away from dying.”

“…Ani, the walls here are Protect-insulated. It makes it harder to see through by elemental sight. For privacy.”

“What?” Ani looked back again, even as the Croconaw and others pressed firmly against the wall.

“They were healthy.”

“O-oh.”

The head nurse sighed and rubbed his snout. “Go back to the rest of your team, please. I—”

“Hang on,” she said. “Is there anyone here who does need healing?”

“I don’t know what you can do that we can’t on our own,” Incineroar said, “and there isn’t anyone who—hrm.” He stopped himself. “How powerful is your healing?”

“Mutant injuries linger because they disrupt aura,” Ani said. “But I can heal even aura. What’s wrong?”

“…Come with me.”

Ani followed Incineroar—who, after asking, said he was Phol—and entered a small room that had several patients resting on small beds in different parts of the room, and then, curiously, a single empty bed that had and odd, red capsule. Ani recognized it immediately. “Why do you have a Poké Ball here?”

“The Machoke who gave it to us called it the same thing but didn’t bother explaining what it was,” Phol said, gesturing to it. “Inside that ball is a Vaporeon who was very badly injured. We brought Rhys here to take a closer look, but he said that her aura was so badly damaged that her body can’t sustain itself. Vaporeon are known for relying in part on their latent energy to keep their bodies together… and something disrupted it for this one.”

As Phol spoke, Ani inspected the capsule and saw a little, scrunched up ball of energy hidden inside. It was weak and faded, but stable, which was expected if they were stored in one of those. She didn’t know what would happen if they released her.

“I can help,” Ani said. “Or, I’ll try. It’s hard for me to heal when they’re inside that, though. How much time do you think she has if you release her?”

“I don’t know.” He looked pensive. “But she’s been in there for days. We don’t know how it’s possible to—”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just release her, but be ready to bring her back in, alright?”

“Brandon showed me how to do that.” Phol picked the capsule up. “When you’re ready?”

After some time for Ani to charge, Phol clicked the sphere, expanded it, and tossed it clumsily. Out came a Vaporeon that oozed with dark, blackish-purple liquid from several wounds, and radiated a horrid aura that made her antennae scrunch up. Ani fired her mutated Heal Pulse at the creature and—to her surprise—a significant portion of that dark energy had disappeared like brush to a flame. So, she pressed, and indeed, more and more of that darkness washed away until just a depleted, weak, and oddly melty Vaporeon remained.

But she still sensed a dark nugget in the center of her aura, and Ani wasn’t sure how to get rid of that. Most of that had been rot, but that core of darkness felt… different. Worse. “Okay,” she said. “I did what I could. But she still seems like there’s something wrong. Can you do your other checks or whatever?”

Phol was already on it, taking a few devices and tools from the nearby cupboard. He placed one on Vaporeon’s chest and looked at a needle that bobbed in a radial meter in his hands. “Hm.” Then, he grabbed a small towel and placed it on Vaporeon’s thigh, then pulled away and inspected the dry cloth. “Mmhm.” Finally, Phol pulled away. “She’s healthy. Weak, but healthy. You really are a miracle worker.” Despite his words, his expression remained stoic.

Vaporeon stirred, one eye barely opening.

“Tanneth, correct?” Phol said, looking over a notepad that had been by the wall. “You were rescued out at sea by a Machoke Brandon. Do you remember—”

“No…”

“Right. That’s okay. All you need to know is you’re safe now, and—”

“No, I’m… I’m not… Tanneth.”

Phol stared, eyes looking up from the notepad without moving his head. “You aren’t Tanneth? Who are you? Brandon seemed very certain—”

“Tanneth… isn’t real. I was never real…” The Vaporeon weakly curled up, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m… Emily…”

<><><>​

“Thank you for the tea.” Mhynt sipped the cup that was two sizes too large. The starry sky was above them thanks to the destroyed roof from their recent clash. “How did you know I liked mint?”

“…Hunch.” Hakk didn’t make eye contact. He kept struggling with all of his tools. Everything was so small. He had to be extremely delicate when pouring, delicate when putting things back in the fridge—how did Xypher deal with it all?! Maybe that’s why he kept breaking everything.

“I will not be here for very long.” Mhynt took another quiet sip. “Escorts from Cipher City will be here in a few days to return me there, and I intend to distance myself from Null Village.”

“I take it the roaming Void Shadows aren’t a problem for you, even if they’re out of Alexander’s control?”

“Trivial,” Mhynt confirmed.

Xypher kept eyeing the dead Honedge next to Mhynt. The Treecko finally noticed, following Xypher’s eyes. He squawked and preened his feathers.

“It’s a sword,” Mhynt said. “A weapon from the era of humans meant to augment their fighting abilities, because humans themselves did not have much. They modeled swords after the effectiveness of a Honedge and, in fact, there are old, old tales of a human and a Honedge who worked together in combat.”

“So, you killed a Honedge to make that happen for you? Why not craft a ‘sword’ yourself?”

“Natural blades from Pokémon are simply much stronger than what can be crafted by underdeveloped metallurgical facilities.” Mhynt pulled the blade toward her. “They naturally sharpen themselves through Infinity Energy. I only have to channel some into it and the edge is good as new.”

Hakk wondered if Mhynt would kill him if it would be more useful that way.

“And for the record, I didn’t kill this Honedge,” Mhynt added. “I displaced his spirit and made use of the body left behind.”

“Oh, that’s much better,” Hakk let slip, realized his mistake, and quickly added, “I mean—okay, sure. I, uh… take that back.”

Mhynt eyed him, expression stone-like, and Hakk searched for the best thing to do to look busy. More tea. Yes, that would do. Hakk brushed aside a few feather-weight, glassy leaves from the counter and got to work.

“So, uh.” Another bag in the kettle. “Why a sword?”

“As a Sceptile, I made use of Leaf Blade at all times. As a Treecko, it’s not very large.”

“Why not evolve? You’re probably, like, a bajillion times stronger than what’s needed for it…”

“Simple.” Mhynt rested her chin against the end of the blade’s handle. “My strength is not drawn from my body nor my evolution. Evolving would only provide a marginal improvement in what I can do. Far less than the benefit being a smaller target provides. Using this blade to augment my reach is all I need.”

“Still seems pretty out of the way,” Hakk said. “Especially since it looks like someone used it against you in a fight, eh?”

Ah, he shouldn’t have said that. Mhynt held the blade, now.

“N-not that—I mean, you were caught off guard and stuff. That’s no big deal—”

“No.” Mhynt sighed. “You’re right.” Her grip relaxed, as did Hakk’s muscles. “I suppose… some of it is sentimental and nostalgic.”

“Sentimental, huh…” Hakk knew not to pry there.

“Yes. Someone important to me once said it was… appealing, the way I fought with Leaf Blade. And I’m used to the fighting style as well. There are simply a lot of factors that make it the best approach.” Mhynt tapped the blade’s hilt, thoughtful. “Of course, that was a long time ago. Perhaps now I’m just used to it on a practical level. Muscle memory.”

“Yeah, that’s fair, too. Dunno how I’d be able to change up my strategies in a fight, either, after all this time.” Hakk sat down again, having to use one of the spare seats once meant for Xypher. “Y’know, you aren’t half bad.”

“Don’t get comfortable, soldier.” Mhynt glared, but for the shortest, briefest instant, Hakk saw a soft look in her eyes. It… puzzled him. “You are still my subordinate.”

“Right, right.” He raised his claws. “My bad, sir.”

“That’s more like it.” She took another sip of her tea.

Knock knock.

Mhynt tensed. The door had been pieced together and then taped. It was still barely functional while awaiting repairs, so whoever knocked must have been very polite. So, not any of that Team Alloy crowd. Through the cracks of the door, however, Hakk was surprised to see that it was Gahi.

Which was the last person he expected to kn—wait. Gahi was dead.

“It’s the Flygon,” Hakk mumbled.

Indeed, it was, and it would be nice to open the door. They wished to get their spirit back.

“Bodies don’t move on their own! What’s going on!? You should be dead on the ground!” Hakk stepped back, his spikes bumping into the table behind him. “Ugh! It’s like you’re talking in my head! Who are you?”

Open the door, Hakk.

“Go away!”

The door fell forward, nearly crushing Hakk’s toes had he not jumped left. Xypher squawked and Mhynt was already on her feet.

“I’m not keen on giving up anything right now,” Mhynt said.

The Unown knew Mhynt was vulnerable.

Mhynt hissed and jumped away, her nimbleness allowing her to get to the broken wall’s hole in a single bound. The Flygon followed with a jittering, cosmic wingbeat, disappearing and reappearing in front of her and grabbing her by the throat.

“Ghk—!”

And then, she disappeared with him.

It took a while for Hakk to find the courage to move. Slowly, he advanced to the tea, where a few more prismatic leaves had fallen in.

“…Right… she’ll… be fine, I think.” Hakk didn’t want to help. He also didn’t know how to help. “You alright, Xypher?”

Xypher was upright and conscious, but he’d gone mute until just then. He opened his beak, made a little, uncertain caw, and closed it again. He shook his wings and several fallen leaves drifted to the ground.

“I want things to be normal,” Xypher said. “Normal, normal…”

Hakk dug his claws into his fists. “Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

The Sandslash patted the Corviknight on the back and gestured to the wall. “How about we relax in the basement for a while?” he asked. “Just for some quiet.”

<><><>​

Mhynt smashed against a tree near the southern outskirts of Null Village. The buildings were several stone’s throws away, and this was a dangerous place for anybody who didn’t know how to fight Void Shadows.

Sliding down the trunk, Mhynt glanced to her right and saw her blade sliding along the dirt. She reached for it, only for the Flygon’s claws to plunge into the bark around her arm, pinning her there.

“Tsk.” She eyed the Flygon directly, those blank, stoic eyes staring back. “It’s been a while.”

It has, to a mortal.

Mhynt smirked and the Flygon let her go. She reached for her blade and shoved it into the dirt, using it as something to lean on, like a tall desk.

“What’s been happening in the living world, hmm?”

Typical stagnation under the rule of the Thousand Hearts.

“Oh, Thousand Hearts? Someone expanded.”

Indeed.

“And the… idiot that claimed your Orb. Was that your choice? Mm. Don’t answer. I suspect you had to pick the least of all evils.” Mhynt tapped her chin. “I think I’ve done enough. Owen’s smart, and between all the allies he’s amassed, they’re bound to realize Alexander’s weakness and how to exploit it.”

The Flygon approached the blade and pointed at it, because that was something they intended to retrieve.

“Yes, yes, but I don’t want him hearing this.” Mhynt sighed. “Don’t tell him anything. I still need to work by Alexander’s side, and I’m sure you know how unable he is to keep his mouth shut.”

He was not the ideal host.

“Indeed. And perhaps not the ideal mate for Owen, either.” She rolled her eyes. “I digress.”

Owen was with another.

That one gave Mhynt pause. “Oh?”

The Milotic. They recently wished to only be friends as they discovered their codependency, but inevitably the Unown suspected they would rekindle.

“I see.”

The Unown were curious whether or not Mhynt harbored ill feelings because of that.

“Do you really think I’m so petty?”

The attacks against the Flygon’s body were more than necessary.

Mhynt chuckled, shrugging. “It was part of the plan. I only added some flair.”

The Unown stared, then gestured to the Honedge again.

“Very well. I hope to see you soon. Be careful while you’re here. If Alexander gets too agitated, he may attack on his own, and that won’t be good. They aren’t ready, not until they become whole. They will hopefully think to go to West Null Village next.”

The Flygon unearthed the Honedge and looked it over, but they were not familiar with how to retrieve Gahi.

“I need to touch it and I can work from there.” She gestured for it to be handed over.

Nodding, the Flygon flipped the blade in the air, grabbed it by the hilt, and then lifted Mhynt with a Psychic hold.

“What are you—”

The blade plunged into Mhynt’s abdomen, pinning her to the tree.

Mhynt tried to gasp, then growled and tried to pull herself free. Once again, it was out of her reach, and her dark powers weren’t properly manifesting yet. “What are you doing?!”

The requirement was needing to touch the blade; the Unown were only adding some flair.

Confusion, befuddlement, then anger, and then resigned defeat in that order washed over Mhynt’s face. She sighed. “You win this round. Now, hold still.”

Mhynt drew from the blade, tugging as if from a loose thread on a scarf. Out came a strand of gold, and then a hazy glob. She lobbed it toward the Flygon and, like a magnet, it flew into the body, and suddenly it went stiff.

“Ngh—you pest!” Mhynt shouted, struggling against the blade as it started to loosen. “How dare you—consider yourself lucky, because I will not allow a—”

“Hah! Well, lookie there, I really can beat yeh in my sleep!” Gahi sneered at Mhynt, leaning forward. “What’s the matter, eh? Couldn’t beat me over my dead body af’er all?”

“You spent far too long in my blade coming up with those,” Mhynt said as she finally managed to get her palm against the base of the hilt so she could push.

“Eh…”

By now, Mhynt suspected the Unown were telling him something to get him to flee.

“Geh! Yer lucky I ain’t gonna finish yeh, but I gotta make sure y’ain’t got an ambush fer the others. That’s right, I saw through yer plan. Y’ain’t clever.” With a smirk, Gahi disappeared in a flash.

Left alone with her thoughts, Mhynt pushed the blade out as her wound sealed itself without even a scar. Some of her Shadow power was back.

She picked the Honedge up and, if only to get out some pent-up frustrations, sliced the tree that she’d been pinned on. The trunk fell, and countless extra blades of darkness diced it into firewood.

“Idiot.”

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 111 – Truth Isn’t Bright​

Dark Matter lay on the ground in the outskirts of Null Village, vomiting darkness as countless holes on his body sealed themselves shut. He groaned and wheezed as half of his body struggled to keep its shape while the other half barely retained what form it had left. Currently a Goodra, the other Void King tried to stand again, but his leg collapsed from underneath itself and he fell back down.

“That cursed tree will be the death of me,” Dark Matter hissed. “How? How did he replicate it? Why?” He rolled onto his back, staring at the starry sky. “My realm… he tore open my realm…”

“Looks like he tore more’n just that.” Marshadow watched uncomfortably from the edge of the clearing. Dark Matter could feel it. “Need help?” Marshadow asked.

“Yes. Stay quiet.” Dark Matter tried to stand again. “That radiant power ripped a hole through the Voidlands. Though me. I can already tell that this will accelerate Kilo’s efforts to attack from the living world. The last thing I need is for them to be another thorn in my side.”

Speaking of thorns in his side, he sensed another presence drawing near. “What do you want.”

“Um, hi, Mister Matter.”

Dark Matter closed his eyes, wondering if dying would have been favorable just then, not that he could. Not on his own. He turned his attention to Anam, who was nibbling at his fingers as he always did when he was nervous.

“Are you okay?”

“I am never okay.”

“I—I mean, less okay than usual?”

“A hole was ripped through my spirit. How do you think I am?”

“Probably not very good…”

“Then don’t bother asking.”

“Was kinda obvious,” Marshadow pointed out. “Yer gonna wanna be quick. He’s all outta sorts.”

“Okay.” Anam approached. “I think you should try something different now.”

This song again. “No.”

“But you’re going to lose!” Anam motioned behind him. “You can’t beat Owen. I told you! And, and, well, and now you see why! All he has to do is touch someone and your Shadow Aura goes away!”

“Incorrect.” Dark Matter rolled his eyes. “My trivial Shadows are dispelled by touch, yes. However, thorough corruption is not. Given time, Owen won’t be able to cure someone with deep Shadows.” He gestured to Marshadow. “Soon, I will have one lower Legend fully corrupted in the Voidlands. Lugia in the living world will pull Kilo into the Voidlands next. That will be more than enough.”

“But now Owen found a way to disrupt that,” Anam said. “All you want is to be happy, right? That’s what you said?”

“Enough. I don’t need to hear this again.” Tiredly, Dark Matter got up. He was still pained, but it was fading, and the gashes in his spirit were finally healing. “Marshadow, let’s complete your Shadow Aura.”

“Y’know, I do wonder if yer friend there’s got a point,” Marshadow said. “If they beat me up, I’m gonna go right back ter their side. Sure, a touch ain’t gonna do it, but enough with that Radiant Aura and it’s gonna nullify.”

“Hmph, Radiant Aura. Just because someone has more of Necrozma’s power doesn’t mean it’s enough to nullify mine.” He stared at Anam. “After all, you couldn’t.”

Anam winced, looking down. “…Well… I’m not like Owen. He was a direct student.”

“Your mother stood no chance, either.” Dark Matter stared at Anam. “Ask her yourself. She was powerless against me.”

To this, the Goodra frowned, and he was no doubt listening to Madeline saying a few taunting or defiant words toward him. Words that Anam was wise not to repeat.

Of course, Anam didn’t know that he’d also caught Madeline at her weakest. Radiant power like that was a weakness he had to be cautious of. And, indeed, Owen was not at his weakest. He was too alert, that cursed Perceive, and now he was a Tree of Life?! When would it end?

Necrozma must have orchestrated this.

Someone gave Owen the idea. Owen was clever, but he shouldn’t have had any knowledge of the Tree to replicate its power. It had been erased. That memory hadn’t returned to him, had it?

“I still don’t think you need to fight,” Anam insisted.

“Why are you still here?” Dark Matter growled, walking away from town. “Leave. I need to assemble more of the mutants that died.”

“What if you talked to him just once?” Anam asked.

“Give me one reason why that will be worth my time.”

“Because if you work with everyone else, you can beat Alexander together. And maybe they can help you be happy!”

To this, Dark Matter stopped, but not because he was convinced. Ohh, no. He had been convinced of something else long ago.

“Anam.” He spun, facing him again. “I am not looking to be happy anymore. Joy is an illusion. Propped up by harming and exploiting others to keep what little you can. The world revolves around taking from others. It is rotten at its base. There is nothing to salvage. I am going to destroy it so something better can take its place. And sometimes, nothing is better. Literally nothing. That isn’t my goal, but it is an outcome I am willing to accept over how things are now. Do you understand?”

Throughout it all, Anam only frowned defiantly, like he always did, like he was disappointed in him, or that he knew better despite being eras younger. And he wasn’t going to leave him alone, either. Just get in the way until Dark Matter could get rid of that last speck of hope that he refused to let go.

“You need to try,” Anam lectured.

“Why? Because you’ll stop me if I don’t? I’ll send my army at you. You’ll never catch up.”

“Because you still can’t win without their help.”

“And how, precisely, do you think I will be able to so much as have them listen to me? It’s too late. I threatened their existence. I intend to destroy their world, just as your precious Necrozma intended.”

“You don’t mean that. It’s not the same. You—”

“I know myself and I know what I want. Why should I bother with anything else?”

Anam stepped forward, a hand to his chest. “There’s still hope, Mister M—”

“Go away.” Dark Matter stepped back. “Your hope is sickening, and I’m already in a vulnerable state.” The blackened rot around his face sizzled as if to demonstrate.

“Sorry…” Anam fidgeted.

“Er, if I c’n interject at all…”

Marshadow cleared his throat, standing on a fallen tree to gain some extra height. It wasn’t much.

“Did I just hear that Necrozma wanted to destroy th’ world? That ain’t right.”

“How little you know,” Dark Matter said, scoffing. “And telling that to Owen, who is surely learning about all the good Necrozma did?”

“He might be trying to hide it,” Anam said, frowning. “If… if you told Owen the truth, what if we can all work together so everyone is happy?”

“Again with happy.” Dark Matter snarled. “If I align with them, it will be solely to betray them when they’re no longer useful. They know this. You know this. Why bother?”

“Why do you have to be this way?” Anam blurted before he could control himself. He gasped at that, then looked down, like he was ashamed.

“Why indeed?” Dark Matter gave Anam a twisted, cruel grin, even if the smile was a little painful. “I have already accepted that I will not be able to change without the Hands. And I have learned that even with the Hands, true happiness will be beyond me.”

“But that’s not true! You don’t know that, we—”

“Enough.” He raised his arm. “I have an army to prepare.”

“Please,” Anam begged. “Just once. Tell him, um… all the lies that they’ve been keeping from him because of history being erased. You know what Owen dislikes, but I know what he likes! If you told him the truth, even if—"

“If I speak to him once,” Dark Matter said lowly, “will you shut up and leave me alone?”

“I…”

“Will you go away and let me assemble my army, put the world to its proper end, and you won’t complain?”

“…I’ll…” Anam hesitated again, and Dark Matter waited for that hope to go away. Just one moment. He wanted to see it. The light leaving his eyes, when was that going to happen? Dark Matter’s glow darkened in anticipation.

Finally, Anam continued. “If you talk to him, and he doesn’t listen… then I won’t ask you to try that anymore.”

Specific, how specific. He was still searching for ways around it. “Will you make it a Promise?”

Anam shrank away. “I—I don’t want to make another Promise with you.”

“Hmph. The last one is no longer valid anyway, now that I am known generally. Why not fill the void with a new one?”

When Anam didn’t answer, Dark Matter walked past him and toward town.

“I will ask,” he said, “once. And when he refuses, I will assemble my army, strike Kilo, and plunge everything into the void. You will lose hope, admit I am right, and then I shall personally send you into your eternal darkness.” The false Goodra turned his head back only slightly to see Anam balling his fist, trembling. “Does that count as a promise?”

Yet again, Anam didn’t say anything, but he could tell that he was trying to hold back tears. That would do.

“Stay there,” he told Marshadow, and then started on his way to Null Village.

<><><>​

Owen had been slumbering peacefully in that strange half-sleep of torpor that prolonged time in a Poké Ball tended to put him in. He liked it. He was conscious, yet only barely, just enough to be aware, and yet so snugly asleep. That sort of pleasure wasn’t possible in the world of matter, where sleep passed in an instant and he had no memory of it but strange dreams.

Ever since that encounter to rescue Ire, and also to find his team and failing, Owen had been plagued by stranger dreams than usual. Fighting humans, blood on his claws, metallic tastes in his mouth, and Tim shouting. He saw flashes of a pink, small creature that he’d never seen before in his dreams, too.

It had been a few days since then. They hadn’t gone on any battles. Apparently, their adventure through the League was over, and Tim was laying low in a nearby human settlement for some news from that nice human, or the ones she worked for. But for once, Tim was walking through a forest. Owen liked forests. Though he didn’t like fighting in them.

Trees…

Simple thoughts flitted through his mind as he stared at different angles from his ball, no body to shift with, only a general, floating consciousness. He wondered how Tim was feeling. The pacing of his steps was different. Tim got like this when something was bothering him. Happened a lot lately.

“Okay,” Tim said, and he raised Owen’s capsule. “Time to come out.”

He didn’t feel like it, but he supposed he could. With a toss, Owen poured out of the ball and his body was back and heavy and solid. A gentle tingle and the fresh scent of the air hit him first, and then he spread his wings and stretched his body. Psychological, not that he truly needed to, and then he smiled down at Tim.

Wings. It was so nice to have wings.

But it was so strange to look down, rather than up, at his human, now. It didn’t feel right. Not yet.

Tim looked so small. Owen had gone through a growth spurt as a Charizard, going from smaller than average in his lowest form, to something much more towering. It must have meant that Tim was a strong partner to have, for Owen to grow so quickly. Why did his eyes look so defeated?

“It’s time for you to go,” Tim said, and the human couldn’t maintain eye contact with him for long.

“What?” Owen asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you don’t need me anymore.” Still no eye contact.

Owen’s flame crackled. Tim wasn’t supposed to be this weak.

“You came with me to be stronger, right? To go on this adventure through the league?”

Yes, for years. That was part of the process. Sure, Tim was slower, but whatever program he worked with provided for a lot of time to get things done before it was over.

Owen narrowed his eyes. “Sure…”

“Well, I can’t go through it. The police got back to me. I can’t stay in Kanto anymore. I have… to go away from this region. I might not even be able to go back to Unova anymore, either. Ayame’s coming, too. We’re providing the police with everything we know and then we have to go away so they can’t get us. It’s for our safety. But they won’t recognize you like they would other humans. Your home is Kanto.”

Tim was speaking nonsense. They had to run because of a bunch of weak humans? He was giving up just like that?

“Why do you have to run? They aren’t strong. I killed one of them.”

“That was… that’s not how it works, Owen.” Tim shook his head. “There are others way stronger than him, with Pokémon so much worse. We can’t… we can’t beat that.”

“Why not? Why can’t we get stronger?”

“We don’t have time to get stronger.” Tim was shaking. “I—I made a huge mistake trying to go in there. It was reckless. We got lucky with that information. We don’t even know how we got it in the first place. I… I just, I wish I could go back where it never happened at all. Then I’d…”

“Then we never would have tried to get Duos and the others back.” Owen growled. “We wouldn’t have done that.”

“I guess not, but… That doesn’t change how things a-are now. I have to go away somewhere. You’re my only Pokémon and you have so many other things you can do here. I don’t. Not anymore. Just… stay here. Go back to the lab and find a better human, okay?”

“You’re being stupid,” Owen said, his voice rising into a crackling growl. “There isn’t a better human. I spent my time with you.”

“I’m not special, Owen! I’m just another trainer who failed the league! I wasn’t gonna win anyway, I couldn’t even get my fourth badge! Just find another human who’s better!”

“You may not be special, but you’re special to me,” Owen snarled. “You’re having a nightmare but you’re awake.”

“What? Owen, this is real, it’s going to be a nightmare if I…” Tim shook his head. “Oh… forget this.” He pulled out his capsule, and Owen was ready for Tim to withdraw him to continue the argument later. But then, Tin popped the ball open, hollow inside, and used his hands in an odd way to pull it more than it should have.

“What are you doing?” Owen asked, confused.

A horrible squeaking noise followed as the hinges of the ball creaked and cracked, until finally it snapped completely. Owen felt a strange jolt of energy in him, like something had been returned, some tiny thing that connected him to that ball. And it was back. It felt… wrong.

Small chips of the capsule and the two greater pieces fell to the grass.

“I’m… not your human anymore,” Tim said. “Find someone better. That’s… my instruction to you. Okay?”

He stared at the fragments for a long, long time. Tim didn’t move. Owen didn’t move. The wind didn’t move.

The Charizard’s body moved on its own. A single, swift motion. His wings flared, he lunged forward on a burst of heated tailwind that caught in his wings, and he slammed hard into the human, who hadn’t seen it coming. He pushed with flaming claws and let go; the human sailed across the clearing, rolled on the ground, and hit a tree with a gasp. His bag was left behind and his clothes were singed in places and torn in others. The tiniest of embers shrank and became small streams of smoke along parts of the fabric.

Little sniffles sounded from the clearing’s edge as Tim sat up. He didn’t stand. Slumped over, he looked even smaller than before.

Owen stomped over to the human’s bag and riffled through it. Found what he needed. He put the bag over his shoulder and approached Tim, setting it down nearby. Then, he tossed an unused, empty Poké Ball at the human’s forehead, where it landed in his lap, inert.

“What…” Tim picked it up dumbly.

“Humans are supposed to be smart,” Owen said. “You’re acting like a wild Pokémon. Dumb choices. I’m not your Pokémon anymore so I don’t have to follow what you said.”

Tim didn’t reply at first, but then he looked up. Their eyes met for the first time and Owen just realized, with a frozen pit forming in his stomach, just how tired he looked.

“You… said you were my Pokémon.” Tim stared with dull, yet wide eyes. “You never say that…”

To that, he flinched and glanced away. “…What of it? We’re each other’s.”

The wind picked up again, the breeze of the forest filling Owen’s senses. He sighed heavily and took a few more steps until he was by Tim’s side, then let his legs fall out from under him, landing with a ground-shaking thud.

“Why?” Tim said. “Why do you want to stay? I failed you. I…”

“Because I don’t think you did. And I want to go with you. That’s all.” He snorted. “If these are the decisions you make without me, then you need me anyway.”

That earned a small laugh. Tim played with the button on the empty ball a few times, like he was contemplating it, entertaining the idea. Of course he was.

Owen wrapped a wing around the human’s shoulders and pulled inward. Tim didn’t resist. He rested against his scales. The human’s cheeks were wet.

“It’s going to be a strange place,” Tim said. “It’s a region that doesn’t even use Poké Balls. It’ll be very, very far… You might not be able to see your parents if you wanted to. Maybe messages, if you’re lucky, but…”

Owen felt some conflict there. But his parents were strong. He would find a way, one day. But for Tim… No. He couldn’t lose Tim.

“That’s fine,” Owen said. “They’ll let me in?”

“Yeah.” Tim fiddled with the ball. “I might have to break it again when we get there, or just keep it someplace else. It’s just not something they do there.”

“I hope I can keep it at home,” Owen said. “I like being in one.”

“Yeah.” Tim laughed again. He seemed brighter. “Yeah, I hope so, too…”

And they didn’t say anything more for a long while. The wind spoke between them, and Owen listened to it and the leaves and the hum of his flame. They had no idea what would be waiting for them in that new region, but somehow, he felt like it was going to be just fine.

<><><>​

I see you.

“Gah!” Owen stood upright, feeling small and frail again. He looked at his hands. Charmander.

Where was he? How did he get there? Everything felt like a haze. He remembered becoming an apple, and then a stretch of darkness and flashes of aura, and then a tree, and more dreams of Kanto, and—

And suddenly he had arms, and legs, and a tail, and—he was standing in the middle of a small clearing in a thin forest. The sky was a bright blue, and that alone mesmerized him. It had been so long since he’d stood under a sky that wasn’t a blotched red. Unfortunately, none of it felt real.

“Ahem.”

Owen spun around, arms tensed and in front of him for defense. It was a Treecko, with her arms crossed and head tilted left. Behind her was an expanse of trees that only went a few stone tosses away before dropping off into a black haze.

“A-are you Mhynt?” Owen asked.

“Are you Owen?”

“M-maybe.”

“Then, maybe I am,” Mhynt replied, and her eyes trailed from Owen’s face to something just above him.

Owen looked up and saw nothing, but realized just then that there was a subtle weight on his head. He felt around and grasped something thin and plant-like. A stem. An apple stem.

With an irritated frown, he tugged lightly at it and, like one of his feathery leaf-scales as a Grass Guardian, it popped out. Owen winced—that hurt, and he inspected the apple stem curiously. It was about the length from his finger to his lower wrist.

And the weight returned.

“It just grew back, didn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

Owen tossed the stem in his hands away, never taking his eyes off of Mhynt. “Is this some kind of dream?”

“Shared headspace,” Mhynt said. “A psychic link.”

“How and why?”

Mhynt answered with a wry smile. “You’re taking this well.”

“Please,” Owen said, almost begging, “I have been tossed around so much that I just want answers.”

“I know.” Mhynt stepped forward, but Owen took a step back in response, arms still tense. She looked, in a flash of emotion, hurt. But then her expression slipped back into amused neutrality. “I am here to tell you to give yourself up to Alexander peacefully,” she said. “We will be able to defeat Dark Matter together, therefore saving all of Kilo from its otherwise inevitable demise.”

“Alexander.” The name of his father—well, now that he thought about it, wasn’t it just Alex? He never used ‘Alexander’ from the fragments of memory he had. “Isn’t he… evil?”

“Very. But he can be reasoned with. And he is better than Dark Matter’s nihilistic goals.”

“What is Alexander’s goal?”

“Power. A way to escape the Voidlands. Is that not too far from your goals?”

“One of them isn’t,” Owen said lowly.

“You don’t want power?” Mhynt tilted her head, quizzical.

“Not really.”

“Then you are happy to let people order you around?”

“N—”

That was true. The only reason people started taking him seriously, that he could start making his own decisions, was because of the leverage he held over them. The knowledge they had withheld, one way or another, was the one thing that kept him in line. Now that he knew how much they wanted him—for his mutant nature, for his Guardianship, or now, for his ties to Necrozma—he was able to use that as a bargaining chip.

“I guess I need some power,” Owen admitted. “But I don’t want it. I can need something and not want it.”

“That, you can.” Mhynt looked like she was conceding, but Owen knew she had coaxed that answer. She was clever. She was honest. He liked that. Something about that made him feel like he could trust at least the words she was saying… even if she might be omitting things like everyone else.

And she wasn’t going away, but she wasn’t talking, either.

“Was there anything else?” Owen asked.

“If you oppose Alexander, he will burn your new form to the ground,” Mhynt stated. The way she presented it was not as a threat, but as a fact, the same way one would warn a Magikarp not to traverse the desert.

“I’m working on a way to come back,” Owen said, “and then he’ll have to chase me down anyway. You have Hakk under your control, don’t you? You have power, too.”

“I do.”

More tense silence followed. She didn’t advance; Owen didn’t retreat. There was nowhere to go, but Owen had a feeling that, if he wished, he could break this psychic link and send her away.

Yet, he didn’t. He didn’t want to. Was that her doing? No… By now, Owen was far too familiar with the sense of his mind being altered by another. This was coming from himself.

“Sorry,” Owen said. “I’m not interested. You opened with a threat that if I refused, I’d be killed. I already got that once from Arceus. I’m not going to fall for it now.”

The Treecko stared, an expression as rigid as Valle’s stone form. Unreadable. Owen wondered if, had he access to Perceive, he’d’ve been able to sense anything at all.

Finally, she closed her eyes. “I will check with you later,” she said, “to see if you change your opinion.”

And then, she disappeared, and the world around Owen dissolved with her.

<><><>​

Palkia and Dialga had flown off with the rest of the team to investigate Nevren in the hole in the sky. Zena couldn’t care less for him. Several of the others departed after seeing nothing more to do now that Mhynt was gone. Gahi’s body had left with Trina to try to confront Mhynt while she was weakened—she had looked to be in pain when the tree first sprouted.

But someone had to stand guard by the tree in case something went wrong. Zena volunteered for that with Eon, who was now a Trevenant on the opposite side of the huge trunk that took up nearly the entire width of the street. Zena’s long, long body didn’t even make up a quarter of the tree’s circumference.

“Oh, Owen.” Zena sighed. “The messes you get yourself into.”

She’d gotten flashes of memories for a while of her time with him. She remembered how desperately lonely she’d felt, and couldn’t help but feel shame at how she’d used Owen to satiate that. She wondered if that was why Owen wanted to just be friends. All things considered… it made a lot of sense. And she wasn’t sure if wanting to reconnect was more of that loneliness, or something genuine.

She brought a ribbon to her forehead and brushed aside more of the prismatic leaves that constantly fell from the sky. And, indeed, it was a sky—a starry night. It almost felt like a true nighttime. Several Pokémon left their homes to stand on their rooftops to get a better look. Others still looked like they were finding ways to climb the tree—though Zena made sure they didn’t get themselves hurt, as did Eon. There was little to do about the flying Pokémon, though, who sat atop the tree like it was their new home.

Zena rested her head against one of the roots, each one thicker than her body at its widest point. There was a little flower with a black center facing her. She smiled a little. It reminded her vaguely of Owen’s tail.

“How pretty,” she commented. “I’m not sure if you can hear me, Owen, but you’ve really done something incredible. And… I’d like to also thank you for everything you’ve done for me.

“I remember how I was toward you. And now I understand why you wanted us to just be friends until I got my memories back. Even though the feelings I had for you were… undeniable… Oh, how do I phrase it…” She sighed, tapping her horn against the trunk. “Those feelings could have come from someplace… unhealthy. That’s what you sensed, wasn’t it? And yet everyone else seemed to think we were such a cute couple.” She rolled her eyes. “I can only see it as codependency. I can’t believe I didn’t see it in the moment. So… embarrassing. It’s amazing what a fresh perspective can do, with losing my memory of it for a while.

“Mm… now that I think about it… That was probably in bad taste to you, wasn’t it? I can’t imagine the things you’re remembering right now. That new perspective might be pained from how much you’d left behind.” She smiled sadly at the flower. “Memories can be so hard. But being without them feels worse…”

She’d gone on for a while. But she had a feeling Owen could hear her. Hear her very much, in fact… She was getting an odd feeling from that flower.

Was it… had it always been facing her in that way?

“Owen?” Zena asked.

She tilted her head. The flower tilted in kind. She went in the opposite way. The flower did the same. Feeling a little silly, she bobbed her head. The flower mirrored her.

“Stars above,” Zena whispered, “Owen! You’re—er. You’ve gotten a new look.”

The flower’s stem wiggled.

“But you can’t talk. Well. That’s okay. Er, I’m sorry if what I said was… embarrassing. Goodness, this reminds me of when we first met. Talking to a river, not really knowing where I was, but that I was listening, hm?”

It was hard to read a flower’s expression.

“…I hope, if we can find a way to restore you, we can start things over again, Owen. I have enough memories to know where I went wrong.”

To this, the flower tilted itself, as if confused.

“You… you are still interested, right?”

The flower made a hesitant bob, but then wriggled about, like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t.

Zena frowned, anxiety eating at her mind. “W-well, I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions. It’s okay if you aren’t—really. I’ll respect that, if you felt I had been too needy. We only knew each other for a few moons, after all. Barely got started! And, er, I’m certain we’d gone into things too quickly for our own good. Largely because I urged you. You barely knew. And, er… Owen, are you all right?”

Owen hadn’t stopped flailing for a while, to the point where one of the petals had fallen off and he still didn’t stop. Only then did she realize the flower was staring at something behind her.

She held her breath and concentrated a fixed point of light just in front of her mouth. Then, she spun around and hesitated for only a split-second to verify what it was. She saw Anam, but his eyes were dark, and that was all she needed.

The Hydro Pump slammed into the Goodra’s chest, leaving ice-cold water in a wide spray that mixed with blackened slime and sent the Goodra himself back a few paces. Zena didn’t let up until he was several body lengths away.

“Eon!” Zena shouted. “Eon, get over here!”

“What? What’s happening?” Eon’s voice was distant from the other side of the tree.

“You know”—that was anything but Anam’s voice—“trying to fight me is pointless. This is my domain.”

“You stay away from Owen,” Zena hissed. “I’ll fight you until there’s nothing left if it means—”

“Enough.” Dark Matter casually waved toward her. From his palm came a beam of darkness, but Zena, reflexively, swatted at it with her ribbon. It flew high and over the rooftops, leaving a cold sting where it touched, but nothing more.

This seemed to surprise Dark Matter enough that he didn’t fire another immediately. Instead, he glanced toward the tree. He lifted his hand and took aim, but Zena was faster, blasting his arm clean off with another Hydro Pump. Dark Matter stumbled, hissing. “Pest.”

“Don’t think you can get to him with us around,” Zena replied breathlessly. That second Hydro Pump was her strongest yet, and all it did was stagger him.

Eon had finally arrived, quickly shifting to a Goodra’s form. “What—”

Dark Matter used his remaining hand to fire a blast toward Eon. It landed squarely in his chest and sent him tumbling back, a black ember smoldering where it had struck. The air cracked upon impact.

“No!” Zena hissed and prepared another, but a hasty beam of indigo fire was faster. It struck Dark Matter on the side of his head.

Eon, on one arm and clutching at a burned chest, forced himself back to his feet. “Not so strong here, are you?” Eon grunted. “This isn’t your domain anymore.” But he didn’t try to attack; he looked too hurt to try something again.

Dark Matter clicked and narrowed his eyes, calculating something. Zena tensed, trying to focus on her peripherals for signs of wraiths, but none came. It was just Dark Matter. Owen… would he warn them if Marshadow was nearby?

“I can feel your paranoia,” Dark Matter said. “I came alone.”

“Then we can kill you right here.”

“Cute.” Dark Matter took a step forward and Zena readied another Hydro Pump. Dark Matter shifted his weight to one foot. Zena felt an odd coldness beneath her coils. Gasping, she rolled out of the way and narrowly dodged an uprising plume of darkness that raged like a black inferno. A few embers left minor rot-scorches on her scales; she countered with another Hydro Pump.

This time, Dark Matter made another motion with his left arm, like an upward point, dredging up some great power from the abyss. Zena felt another cold chill beneath her and rolled away again, but this time countless threads of darkness sprouted around her and bound her to the ground. She shouted and aimed for his face again.

“You know,” Dark Matter said, “I’m disappointed at how effective Shadow Hold is becoming.”

“Is that—what you call this technique?”

“No, it’s what I call my mother.” Dark Matter reached toward Zena. “Now hush.”

Zena was running out of energy. She struggled to escape and barely managed to get her tail free. She twisted her form and dug it into the ruined ground—loose dirt and dust. Perfect. With a lurch, she heaved a dusty clump of the ground into Dark Matter’s face. It spattered against his gooey front and directly into his eyes, which didn’t blink. It only paused Dark Matter briefly while Zena squeezed halfway out of the black threads.

“These eyes are fake, you know.”

He squeezed his fist and the threads tightened. Zena yelped and tried to break out, but now they threatened to snap her spine if she tried resisting any further. She couldn’t move. And then, Dark Matter touched her side. And yet… nothing happened.

“Now, I’m going to talk to Owen,” Dark Matter said. “Anam said I should. You trust him, don’t you?”

“I’m beginning to wonder,” Zena hissed. “How long has he been working for you?”

“…You aren’t under my control.”

“It seems I’m not,” Zena replied, glancing at where Dark Matter had touched. A trace of shadowy energy was there, struggling to maintain itself, but it evaporated. Zena had a feeling it was because of Owen.

“Then be quiet.”

“Owen can’t talk to you,” Zena said.

“I will talk to him as long as—”

“No,” Zena said, glaring. “He literally can’t talk to you. He’s a tree. I was speaking to him with—”

Dark Matter shoved his hand into the bark. Zena shouted, but the Shadowy threads pinned her to the ground. Dark Matter stared into the tree, completely still.

Owen, Zena said, only able to watch, hang in there. I’ll get him away…

<><><>​

The Charmander stood in the small, ethereal clearing with a black sky and trees that seemed to light up on their own. Everything towered over him. Golden balls of light speckled the air, floating like Illumise in the summertime. The trees only went a few layers deep before falling into an endless abyss, but those that were there had full, vibrant leaves and a dim glow of blue aura.

Across the way, on the opposite end of the glade within nothing, was a Goodra with dark slime and a blank expression.

“Hello.”

Owen was trapped. Dark Matter had somehow infiltrated his realm. Was this a vision? Was he already claimed by Dark Matter, or was this him trying to seize control of the tree?

The moment Dark Matter had touched the tree, he’d been enveloped in cold, like dead fingers wrapping around his skull. And now he was here.

“Hello,” Owen replied back, not sure if being polite was the best route. Or if anything was. Maybe it didn’t matter anymore.

Dark Matter narrowed his eyes, then raised his hand. The moment he saw darkness forming, Owen crossed his arms and narrowly blocked a beam of Shadows, and then another, and then another. Each one made Owen buckle a little more, the Protect shield flickering and fading, before it finally gave way after the fifth one struck. The sixth landed squarely on his chest; the blast sent him skidding backward and over the abyss.

He flailed, then landed on solid ground—new ground that had conjured itself where there had once been nothing. Dark Matter stood on his own island of the forest, which was now filled with dead, leafless trees like the ones in the Voidlands.

“Now you know that I cannot harm you.” Dark Matter’s voice carried as if they were face to face.

Owen felt his chest. No pain, no wound, not even a trace of darkness. “And what if you could?” He stepped closer, and when he did, each step made the forest behind him disappear, and new forest appear in front of him.

“Then it would have been very convenient for me. And lucky. But I am not a lucky person. Some would hardly call me a person.”

As Dark Matter spoke, their islands touched, and Owen’s trees looked a lot less bright, while Dark Matter’s trees gained some life and leaves.

“Then you really came here to talk.” Owen stopped after he felt they were at a speaking distance, even if it was apparently unnecessary. He didn’t like any of this. This was someone who had taken Amia away from him, who stole Zena’s memories, who threatened to plunge all of Kilo into darkness.

“Tell me,” Dark Matter said, “why Anam thinks it would have been a good idea to speak with you.”

That wasn’t expected. “Anam told you that? How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“Because you can easily ask him later.”

Owen tried to think of a way to counter that. Could Dark Matter have found a way to control Anam? No, because then he would have found a way to control him, too… Was Anam dead? No, that would prove everything was a lie, and Owen didn’t plan on doing anything until he talked to Anam anyway.

“I would be a fool to expect you to believe anything I say without proof.”

“Right. Okay. Look, I don’t know why you want to talk to me, but if you’re asking for some kind of deal, or a Promise, I’m not interested. I’m pretty sure everyone has approached me about a Promise at this point. I’m not doing it.”

“I don’t intend to,” Dark Matter said. “Whatever I tell you is pointless anyway. You won’t believe me. I only want to reclaim the Voidlands and my proper power.”

“So you can kill everyone.”

“Yes.”

Owen couldn’t believe how audacious this thing was. The little Charmander’s tail flicked, trying to find some hidden meaning, some other motive, but it didn’t make sense.

“Is that not what you wanted?” Dark Matter asked. “Necrozma wanted the same.”

“…That’s not at all something Necrozma would say.”

“I now know what Necrozma has hidden from you.” Dark Matter shook his head. “Fine. What I tell you is pointless until you come to me.”

“I don’t plan on it. You’re… trying to destroy the world—how can I allow that? I’m a Heart. I’m supposed to protect the—”

“Stop.”

“I don’t think I will!” Owen’s tail sparked and he took a threatening step forward, which he realized the moment he did was a silly gesture for his size. “Get out of my tree! I don’t know what Anam told you, but I’m not going to negotiate with someone like you! As a Heart, I—”

“I will not”—Dark Matter shot a beam of shadows into Owen’s face, which was parried by another Protect—“listen to you prattle about Hearts. I have suffered through the headspace of your leader for five hundred cycles. I do not have the patience to deal with your disgusting, misguided, and futile ambitions. But that is one thing I’ll point out. Anam sent me, your leader. That implies that he thinks what I have to say is worthwhile, despite everything. Can you argue against this?”

Owen was starting to doubt Anam’s sanity. He really had been harboring this dark entity within him all this time. All his power, and that power of rot, was that Dark Matter? To disguise it as the Ghost Orb’s power… What more did Anam hide? And why?

Since Owen was silent, Dark Matter continued without resistance. “He told me you enjoy the truth. I have been nothing but honest. There is no point in lying because you will just ask Anam later.”

It was easy to recognize that Dark Matter spoke meticulously, logically, in ways that did not rely on Owen having faith in Dark Matter’s credibility. Owen could… appreciate that. But he was still cautious as he listened.

“I know that you are regaining your memories. You must have a lot of them by now.”

“Of Kanto. And little bits from before I became a mutant, but after I was in Kilo.”

“Since you’re a tree, you have a lot of time to think about things. I want you to think about a place called Orre. Maybe later, you can ask for more of the full story. Because apparently, I’m the only one bothering to reveal it to you.”

That term made Owen’s chest flutter and he didn’t know why. “What about Orre?”

“They’re prying me out of the tree. I don’t have much time left.” Dark Matter’s form faded into a hazy, black cloud. “Recall your memories at the end of Kanto. Think about Necrozma. And think about his only wish. …Hmph. Chances are, those memories are sealed, and not by me.” He was barely a presence, now, but his voice echoed. “I’ll be waiting just west of Null Village. You’ll find me.”

The world around Owen was dissolving as he became more aware of the village around his wooden body.

“Start with Orre. Learn the truth about why you are here at all. I will unlock the rest of the answers that are sealed away…”

 

[Flyg0n]

Alrighty alrighty I'm taking the plunge. I won't do much heavy critique cause like... idk this is chapter 1. And it doesn't seem like it'd be ultra helpful. I'll stick to some discussions, line-by-lines and commentary.

First up, what an intro. Some perplexing sudden violent action, suddenly revealed to be dream. Normally dream openings and action is a pretty.... risky? combo. But something about this specific setting and circumstance pulls it off well.

For starters, it's short. The audience doesn't feel cheated reading a huge intro only to discover it was a dream. Second, the dream seems clearly extremely relevant. It sets up important details about the world, Owen, and his dynamic with his uh. Parents? They seem sus. Third, the dream and violence all suggests this is going to be a dream/memory vision whatever, so you don't run into the awkward 'wait that wasn't real syndrome'.

Moving on... through the whole 'prologue' there's a plethora of hints that something is very amiss. A lot of weird stuff isn't lining up, things I can place my finger on and others I can't. Knowing you its all ridiculously relevant. (How do you do it?)

Poison-tipped fangs plunged into Owen’s chest.

What a calm, mundane opener! Owen's got a nice normal life.

It had the face and colors of a Tyranitar, with its rocky edges and black gaps in its armor. Yet it had the winding, coiling body of a Seviper, a poisoned blade at the end of its tail, and long, sharp fangs stuck deep within him.

Not gonna lie, I was extremely distressed here both times I read this because my brain was going maximum overdrive trying to identify what pokemon this was before I realised.... its not one. Not a normal one at least.

But then he felt a different energy course through him. It wasn’t healing him. “Shh,” Amia said softly. “Just sleep. Just sleep…”

It felt awful. Energy drained from his core. His vision faded. And then, darkness.

Sus...

“No resting on the fire, Owen.”

but wwhyyyy >:{

(Seriously though! I wonder why! How come he can't? Does it eventually burn him?)

Bluer than his mother’s hair.

A good way to mention that his mother is shiny without being weird!

He’s an adult!”

How old is he though. I mean. I know the answer to this question is erm. Way compliex but. How old is he meant to be here, I wonder? Seems like a young adult, 19-21ish, specifically in the context of this scene? Although his attitude makes him seem young too.

If you get kicked out of a Dungeon in that way, you’ll—lose it! You’ll lose almost everything on you! Perhaps even your—your life!”

This was a great way to work in mentioning your worlds dungeon mechanics early!

Overall an enjoyable prologue! A brief glimpse into aspects of your world and good hints that not all is well.

Further thoughts...

I continued to read up until chapter 5. So I'll talk about some stuff I noted.

Chapter 1....

We see a glimpse of some of the characters who will no doubt be important, and a Trapinch, who is the most important. But I think Charizard's and Charmanders are bad and boring so can you change your main character to a Trapinch please? Thanks!

Moving on! I'd like to mention that I really liked the exchange between Aerodactyl and Owen. There was a both amusing and sinister edge to his attitude, that makes him feel more engaging than a generic thief but still sinister.

Owen worriedly pinched at his gut, wondering if his chubby Charizard genes were coming through before the rest. But it felt normal.

Ya know, I never thought of Charizard's as chubby but I guess they kinda are.

Owen stepped onto the Waypoint and gently tapped his ankle on the tile. In a flash, he disappeared.

I really like the idea of Waypoints/teleport tiles being the main transportation. This is either from a PMD game already and my rusty memory forgot, or it fits real well with the establish world.

A Miltank was carrying a large jug of milk in the opposite direction.

Owen decided not to think too hard about it.

You and me both, bud.

“A-and I’m not a kid!” he shouted. “I’m just a late evolver!”

Ah! So age is loosely tied to evolution stage in your take on the world, kind of like PSMD? Intriguing.

“My signature attack—Fire Trap!” he said to the wind.

This is a really intriguing concept. I almost wish the games had something like this. Normally I'm pretty leery of stuff that starts trying to add lots of new or weird uses for movrs to canon, but I trust you, and also this feels reasonable.

“Heh,” Aerodactyl said. He dug his right wing into his own bag, flashing a strange-looking device. It was red with a glowing, yellow heart button in the middle. “Jammer Emblem. You think I’d let you run off so easily? Everyone brings Escape Orbs. So, I bring a Jammer.”

This is a frightening item. It makes sense though, that something like this would exist. For everything beneficial there's often a counter method, and I can only assume the Hearts use them to stop criminals from doing the very same thing.

The Lucario’s eyes, which glowed just barely in the darkness, held no expression; that, in itself, was abnormal to Owen. Why would someone not react to such an outlandish statement unless they were prepared for it?

There are so many sus moments in these chapters. I just know he's hiding something huge, but I also feel like literally everyone is.

He was screaming inside.

Relatable

Every time Owen did this dance, a tiny part of his Char heart withered away.

I died just reading it honestly.

“Oy, oy, l-lemme go!” Gahi wiggled his tiny legs uselessly.

This is Trapinch abuse and I demand you stop.

So moving on... I really enjoyed the battle between Owen and James. I feel like it was a good display of Owen's intuition and prowess. The stakes were set beforehand, to show that James is tough, and that the battle is more about displays of skill than an outright win. I appreciate the way it didn't feel too easy or too over the top in how he pulled off the win, and it wasn't anything that felt out of place.

The meditation session in the following chapter was intense. I have to say, I think the shock reveal that is was either a dream/vision/ etc worked well here, because it shocked Owen considerably, and builds into the sense of suspense and mystery surrounding whatever the heck is going on.

I find myself very intrigued by Owen's character. I'm trying my best to seperate my Blacklight knowledge of him so that I can evaluate this on its own. I can pick up the fact that he seems like he wants to constant force himself to appear a certain way to others, or mantain a certain personality. I can also clearly see that he seems perceptive, something particularly evident in later chapters. There's this very odd/uncanny vibe of how he notices little details but also chooses to protray himself a certain way.

This all contributes to everything so far having a really really off-putting vibe to the whole story, in a way I assume is intentional.

Looking forward to how everything pans out... I think 0.0

 

[Namohysip]

Special Episode 8 – Normal Living​

Lightning shattered the sky.

Torrential rains obscured anything more than a few feet ahead. Owen’s wings were heavy and his flame sputtered boldly against the storm. Lighting the way, aside from his own embers, was a horrible forest fire that had been started by an unlucky lightning bolt. A rare natural disaster, where the rains were not enough to put out the intense flames that fed off of the overgrowth. It would be short-lived.

But there were still Pokémon and humans helpless in that storm, and they had to find as many as they could.

“That way, that way!” Tim called over the wind. He pressed on Owen’s left shoulder and the Charizard banked. His pupils dilated, seeing the faded silhouettes of several creatures. He folded his wings down and descended, then abruptly spread them out for a quick stop.

Two humans, a Gabite, and a purple Nidoran were being attacked by agitated-looking Pokémon—a Cherubi and a Grovyle. The humans were shielding the two injured Pokémon.

“Keep them safe,” Tim said. “I’ve got this.”

His human jumped from his back and landed. Tim wore a red shirt and black shorts with a yellow stripe that glowed. He quickly pulled out a device from a pouch on his thigh, aiming it at the Cherubi first. It was an odd device that looked similar to a levitating, spinning top; from its bottom point came a trail of bright light that cut through the storm’s darkness.

Tim made various rapid gestures with his arms using a control device in his hands, and the Pokémon attacking briefly stopped. The top spun and twirled through the air, forming ethereal ropes that dissolved into particles and clung to the Cherubi. Before she could react, the light completely enveloped her, and she looked briefly dazed.

“It’s okay!” Tim shouted, squeezing the device. “We’re here to help!”

Cherubi blinked, but then looked at Grovyle, who was rushing toward Tim with his leaves primed for a slashing attack.

Tim deftly hopped back and spun the top around Grovyle next, but he sliced through the threads instead. The top made a worrisome popping noise and Tim tried to recall it for another throw.

“Owen!” Tim shouted.

The Charizard swooped in and blocked the Grovyle’s follow-up strike.

“Calm down!” Owen shouted at Grovyle.

“They started the fire. I know it!” Grovyle hissed back.

The fire had them too agitated to think straight. Owen beat his wings and parried Grovyle, just in time for Tim’s second attempt. Threads of light dissolved and clung to Grovyle; he snarled and tried to slice at it again, but Tim was faster, skillfully weaving the thread between Grovyle’s slash. Then, the light enveloped him next.

“It’s okay,” Tim pleaded. “Work with us! We have to get you out of here!”

Grovyle had a similarly dazed look, eyeing Cherubi.

“What… did you do?” Grovyle asked Tim.

“It’s human magic,” Owen explained to Grovyle. “It lets them show you how they truly feel.”

Grovyle looked at the little lights that still clung to his scales. He brushed them off, and with it their effects also waned, but Tim didn’t look alarmed.

“Fine,” Grovyle said. “…Sorry.”

“Thank you,” said one of the humans that they’d rescued.

“Get out of here,” Tim directed. “There’s a safe path that way, and rescue crews are waiting. Can you walk?”

“We can,” said the other. “Thank you!”

They departed, but Owen had a feeling they weren’t done. Tim was speaking into his communicator.

“Ayame, are you there? Some rescues are coming your way. We’re still looking for more.”

Meanwhile, Owen asked Grovyle, “Is anyone else here in danger?”

The forest native immediately pointed further into the thunderous gloom, which was glowing a faint orange. “The fire’s too hot.”

“Not for me,” Owen said, smiling. “Tim, I’m going in to rescue a few more.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“The fire’s hot.”

“I’m used to it.” Tim nodded at Grovyle and Cherubi. “Follow those other humans to safety. We’ll save the others.”

“Th-thank you!” Cherubi called as Grovyle picked her up and ran.

They wasted no time; Tim hopped on Owen’s back, and then Owen sped through the trees and toward the glow. Tim pulled out yet another device from his pouch—everything was element-proof to handle any situation—and said, “They’re right, it looks like there are still a few Pokémon that got cornered off from the fires. I’m counting five… All small. This should work out. I’ll try to calm a few, and you can grab the rest. Talk them through it.”

Owen grunted in understanding and accelerated. “Fire’s coming. Get ready.”

Tim held Owen tight as the flames licked at the Charizard’s scales. The human pressed hard against Owen’s back, squeezing his shoulders, and Owen saw a particularly orange tree up ahead. It cracked and crackled. Not good.

But his momentum was too much. The tree splintered, the sap within vaporizing, and it exploded right next to them. Tim shouted in pain and buckled against Owen, and he was about to turn back and flee. Instead, Tim slammed a hand against Owen the moment he made a motion to try.

“Keep going,” Tim hissed. “I’m fine.”

While apprehensive, it was far from the worst they’d gone through. Obeying, Owen sped through the flames and searched for more survivors, the flames and crackling wood being all he could hear.

<><><>​

Birds chirped under another calm morning sky. A ray of light shined through the window, and a summer breeze finally coaxed Owen out of his slumber. His body no longer ached from the rescue a few days ago. Which was good. He’d been getting restless.

Uncurling from his flame-proof beanbag for a bed, the Charizard swiveled his head around the room in search of Tim. His bed was empty with the sheets thrown in random directions, as usual. Tim never made his bed. So, he was awake. Owen therefore checked his bedside. His human magic devices weren’t there, so he wasn’t showering or doing anything from his morning routine.

Definitely late morning, from the sun’s position. Had Tim let him sleep in again, just for the sake of recovery? Hmph. He didn’t like sleeping in that long. Owen flicked his tail and shook off the flame veil that covered it, and his ember lit up the rest of the room instantly.

He pulled the door inward and stepped into the halls. A simple green carpet covered the middle portion of the hall, leading to a main lobby on one end and further human facilities on the other. Tim probably went that way. Before he could go, he was immediately greeted by another of the humans in this settlement.

“Owen! Good to see you up and about. Feeling better?”

This one was shorter than Tim and had long, brown hair. She grinned with her hands on her hips. This one, Owen knew, couldn’t understand him well, so he nodded and growled in affirmative.

“Great! Oh, are you looking for Tim?”

Another grunt.

“He’s over having breakfast. He’s looking a lot better. Talk about a quick recovery! Not everyone can walk off being crushed by a tree in a few days, y’know.”

Owen winced. That had only happened because he had gotten careless during the rescue…

“Aw, hey, it’s alright. It happens in our line of work.”

That didn’t make it any better.

“Hey, I bet Tim would love to have breakfast with you again. Go see him!”

Owen grumbled in farewell and spread his wings, flying through the halls to catch up. He eventually found his way to the mess hall and scanned the many large, communal tables where humans and Pokémon alike partook in their meals. At one, there was Tim, in his usual uniform, but with a few bandages over his chest and neck. Smiling, Owen drifted toward the food stands, got a plate from the smiling cooks, and sat next to Tim.

“Hey,” Tim greeted.

“Feeling better?” Owen asked.

“A lot.” Tim patted his chest and suppressed a wince. Owen didn’t look impressed. “Eheh…”

Owen was about to explain to Tim exactly why he shouldn’t be moving around so much just yet when a brief dizzy spell struck him. Looking unfocused, he hummed a confused grunt.

“Owen?”

It came again, this time with a hazy image of something pink. And then it was gone.

“Hey, Owen?” Tim said again.

“Oh, sorry. I saw something, or at least, I thought I d—”

Help!

Owen immediately stood up, wings flared. Several others in the cafeteria looked at Owen, sensing his alarm. That made several other humans and their Pokémon scan the surrounding area next.

But there wasn’t anybody there.

“Did you hear something, Owen?” Tim asked gently.

“I thought I did…” Owen looked down. “I saw something… pink. And someone calling for help. Like a thought. I don’t think I actually heard it.”

A stiff silence followed. Owen sank back into his seat, folding his wings down.

“It’s alright,” Tim said. “Maybe we’re just tired. Let me know if it happens again, okay?”

Owen nodded, returning to his meal. It was too real to be some kind of hallucination. And something about that pink haze felt… familiar. Years ago. What was it?

<><><>​

The night was calm again but Owen had trouble sleeping regardless. His flame veil was irritating him, which wasn’t normal. It was soft and weightless and he was used to the dark by now, especially since Tim left the window open so the moonlight and the stars gave him something to sleep under. And his flame, while veiled, still had a soft enough glow that it comforted him.

But he still couldn’t drift off. It was suffocating. That cry for help was too real to ignore, and yet he was doing nothing. He was supposed to be a Pokémon for search and rescue. A Ranger’s Pokémon. And he was just sitting idly by as a cry for help went specifically to him. Had he really hallucinated?

Eventually, with those thoughts endlessly circling around his head, the Charizard drifted off into something that resembled sleep.

Black space greeted him, and he floated like a wandering spirit. Not fully aware of his own thoughts, the Charizard flew without need for air or wind, lazily tilting his head left and right, half-wondering if it was a dream. After moment after empty moment, he realized that something was drawing him in a certain direction. There was a light.

Can you hear me?

He could. He tried to speak, but didn’t have the energy.

I can see you. This way, please…

This voice. So familiar. But maybe only from a single moment in his past. Where, where…

Do you remember how maybe I helped you out a long time ago?

Helped, helped… Yes! With a gasp, he remembered. That was so many years ago, but it was when he’d first evolved. No wonder it sounded so familiar. That voice had offered him some power in exchange for ‘causing trouble’ with those horrible people. A sick pit formed in his stomach. That had also been when he killed someone.

That means you owe me, right? You totally owe me!

Owen wasn’t sure what that meant. But now that he thought about it, the way they had been given their hints to find that hideout out of the blue. And Owen wondered if there had been any signs of this strange presence then, too.

Look, I know you might think that there are some signs that I’ve been around before. Yeah. I get around a lot, I help out; miracles are kind of my thing. But now I’m in trouble. I need help. You’ll totally help me, right?

This was all a little too strange to be a dream, but did that mean he could trust this voice’s word?

My name is Mew Star. I… got captured. I’m being held somewhere on an island in the Orre region. Please… help. I can’t… get out on my own. This is the last of my strength. If any of you can accept… I’ll send someone to guide you to me. Please.

‘Any of you.’ Then she was sending this out to several people. But that didn’t mean much if any of the others weren’t capable of rescuing her. He was a Pokémon who had dedicated his life to rescuing.

He tried to reach out. It felt draining, like it required more energy than he could truly offer. But something came out. “I’ll try…”

Owen wasn’t sure if his voice had reached out. But soon, he couldn’t hold on, and this strange semi-conscious state left him entirely.

A horrible pressure was wrapped around his chest and he couldn’t get rid of it. Limply, he tried to pull away at something… That only made the pressure worse. He groaned…

Whimpering woke him up. Hazily, Owen blinked and saw three figures nearby. He recognized one by the outline alone as Tim. The other had hair that seemed to reflect the moonlight very well—Ayame. Which could only mean…

The pressure was from a Dragonite that had climbed into his bed. Tim’s door was hanging off of its hinges. Ire hugged Owen and refused to let go, growling something between his whimpers.

Owen wheezed. “Help… me…”

Tim and Ayame’s combined strength wasn’t enough to pull the hulking Dragonite away.

“I had a nightmare,” Ire said. “It was so scary…”

“So did I… but it wasn’t scary.” Owen tried to squeeze between his arms. No use. “Ire, I can’t breathe…”

Finally, Ire had enough sense to let go. Owen took a deep breath and expelled a few embers.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ayame pulled Ire away. “What nightmare?”

“Someone called Mew Star,” Owen said. “Did you get that dream, too?”

Ire nodded. “It was dark and scary. And she said she needed help and she’d send someone to get me!”

“…To guide us there,” Owen finished, which looked like a correction to Ire.

“O-oh.”

“Did you agree?”

“No…”

“Well… I did.” Owen glanced at Tim. “Does the region… Orre sound like somewhere to you?”

“Orre?” Tim repeated. Owen nodded. “Mew Star… Mew. Is that a Pokémon name?”

“It is,” Ayame said, “but this sounds like some kind of Psychic prank to me. Mew is a Pokémon of myth; nobody’s ever actually seen one before. They’re said to be the ancestor species of all Pokémon, but they all either died off or their offspring became the many species. The Mew species itself just split off into the countless ones we see today, and the originals died off over time thanks to environmental changes. It just became more favorable to be specialized instead of generalized, or something.”

“So, Mew were very generalized Pokémon? Kind of like Eevee, who then evolve into something specific?” Tim tilted his head. “I didn’t look into this before…”

“That’s the theory,” Ayame said. “I don’t think anybody has ever seen a real Mew before. I mean, apparently they’re invisible, so that makes it pretty hard to verify. Either way, if Owen and Ire both got the same dream, it’s probably some Psychic trick.”

“Was Mew Psychic?” Owen asked.

“…Yes, but that’s not my point.”

“But what if it really was a Mew?”

“Then I’ll owe Tim two thousand Pokédollars.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Tim said, smirking.

Ayame jabbed Tim in the side and he yelped and crumpled to the ground in pain. “Get some rest. We’ll tell the others about this and see what they think, but real or not, you’re in no condition to go to Orre of all places.”

“Yeah okay,” Tim squeaked.

Ayame hauled Ire back to their room, Owen helped Tim into his bed, and then fell asleep. Thankfully, this time, it was restful.

<><><>​

Several weeks passed uneventfully. For a while, Owen was sure that it really had been a dream, or a Psychic prank like the humans had suspected.

Why, then, did Owen often find himself searching the skies for signs of a Mew, or someone that a Mew might send?

They were back in top form and performing rescues as a team, mostly as a pair, but sometimes with Ayame and Ire, especially for larger missions. Normalcy had returned, but it was short-lived.

After another day of patrolling through a mercifully quiet shift, Owen and Ire landed with their humans in front of their boss. He was waiting for them outside the main base. He was a tall, muscular man with silver hair and a silver beard that made him look a lot like an Abomasnow, if not for his tanned skin.

“Owen, Tim,” Boss-human said.

“Oh, hey, um—is something wrong?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He was always like this. Gesturing behind him, Boss-human continued, “Someone’s here to see you. Had some strange things to say. Figure he’ll repeat it and see if there’s anything you can glean from the crazy talk. We tried removin’ the guy, but he went and phased into the wall and politely waited.”

“That’s an odd way to describe someone’s polite behavior,” Tim commented, following Boss-human inside. Owen walked by his side and Ayame and Ire followed behind. The hall was the same as always, but there was a trail of water from a loose Hydro Pump from some other incident that might have happened earlier in the day. Nobody paid it any mind.

A quick turn brought them to a side-lobby, one of the break rooms of the simple naturalistic-themed base.

“There he is.” He pointed at a pair of large arms sticking out of the wall, crossed against a broad, gray chest.

“Oh, he really is just inside the wall.”

“Dusknoir,” Ayame said, shivering. “Just the Pokémon? Is it wild, or does it have a human nearby?”

“Wild… I think.” Boss-human rubbed his beard. “Let’s go give this talking thing another try.”

“It can talk?” Tim asked. “You aren’t exactly the best at understanding Pokémon, Boss.”

“Did say he was an odd one.” Boss-human led the way and called, “Alright, here’s the Charizard and his friends! Don’t try anything funny, but we’re here to listen.”

“Good. Thank you,” the wall said as its arms made a bowing gesture. The wall sprouted the head of a Dusknoir during that bow before it returned inside. “My name is Hecto. I have been sent by Mew Star as per Owen’s agreement to repay his debts and divine obligations.”

“Like I said, nonsense,” Boss-human drawled. He looked toward the others and saw the grave expressions they all wore. “What? That actually makes sense?”

“I know Mew Star from a dream I had a while ago,” Owen said. “Ire had one, too.”

“You guys can have dinner now if you want,” Boss-human confirmed.

Owen squinted.

“Owen said,” Tim translated, “that he saw Mew Star in a dream.”

“Mew. The mythical Pokémon.”

“The one that up and don’t exist,” Boss-human added.

“I can assure you she is very real,” Hecto said. “While her species is rare, they are present in the world, albeit very timid. She, however, is divine in nature, and requires your help. I believe this makes her even more important than a standard Mew under your established moral standards.”

“And why exactly are you coming here to request a save from these fellas in particular? We’ve got plenty of talent in our ranks that are up for divine missions.”

“Mew Star resonated with them and therefore has a connection that can be used to track her down innately. Such things cannot be done by any person, only those who have been blessed by her previously.”

“Mmmhm. Blessings. Sure.” Boss-human hummed skeptically. “You got any proof that this is some kinda divine Pokémon?”

“I am a talking Dusknoir.”

“Fair ‘nough.” Boss-human nodded, crossing his arms much like Hecto. “Got any more proof, though?”

“Mm. She was right to grant me small charges of her power.” Hecto brought one of his massive hands forward. “Hold this, please.”

“Eh?” Boss-human stared. “If you’re divine, you ain’t about to pull me to the spirit world, are you?”

“Not today.”

Ire shuddered.

“Aren’t you a comforting fella. Alright. I’ll bite. What’s this for?” He held one of Hecto’s large fingers.

A pulse of white light flowed from within the wall, through Hecto’s arm, and then into the Abomasnow-like human. He seemed to bristle and jerk his hand back, but whatever Hecto intended to do had been completed.

“You now know Thunder.”

“…’Scuse me?”

“Use it carefully. It will fade in an hour.”

Skeptical, he looked at his hand, then at a nearby window. He walked toward it and pushed it open, glancing at the Dusknoir in the wall. “How do I use it?”

“It should be innate. Follow your heart.” Despite the symbolic and flowery tone, Hecto’s voice was as monotone as ever.

The Thunder-infused Abomasnow-Boss human looked outside and focused on the pavement. A shadow formed in the skies above and a sudden burst of electricity scorched a small portion of the ground. Someone sitting on a bench a few feet away yelped in surprise.

“Well, that was disappointing.”

“You aren’t a Pokémon.”

“Fair ‘nough. Alright. Guess I’m convinced now.” He faced Hecto. “But I’ve still got valid concerns about my crew if they’re gonna be safe.”

“They won’t be. But I can assure you they will be rewarded for their efforts in this world or the next, whichever they end up.”

“So it’s a possibly lethal mission.”

“I believe your occupations carry that same risk.”

“They do, but that comes with hazard pay and safety processes, securities, and regulations.”

“Well, good karma is probably good hazard pay if it’s from someone literally divine,” Tim mumbled aloud, earning odd looks from everyone except the wall, who did not have a look. “What? A-am I wrong?”

“Let me do the thinking,” Owen said, patting Tim on the shoulder. He pouted. Then, the Charizard faced the wall-noir. “What happens if we don’t go on this mission? I want to help Star, but I don’t know if this is something worth doing.”

“I do not know how many others will agree to this, how many are capable, or how many Mew was capable of adequately reaching before she completely ran out of strength. Therefore, if you refuse, the results may be anywhere between inconsequential or world-changing.”

“In other words,” Ayame said, “if we go, it will have to be because we think it’s worth it all on its own.”

“Correct.”

“Wait.” Tim looked at Ayame. “We? I thought Dusknoir came for Owen and I.”

“Ire got the same dream, so we could help all the same, can’t we?” Ayame frowned. “Besides, I don’t want just you on a mission like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Ire might have been one who refused in his dreams, so Star did not bother to reach toward him again. If you agree, I recommend deciding now. We will depart tomorrow.”

“This is all real sudden, y’know. But after what I’ve seen… sure. I just gotta know one thing. What exactly are they fighting to rescue Mew from?”

“A budding but dangerous criminal syndicate of the Orre region intent on corrupting Pokémon of all kinds using a strange technology. They got a hold of Mew Star. If she becomes corrupted by that same technology, the results could be devastating for more than just the world.”

“Ah. Well. That’s a tall tale I’m inclined to believe.” He looked at his hand again. It sparked with electricity, yet seemed painless. “You’re gonna keep us updated on how they do, I’m hopin’?”

“Yes. That should be the case. I shall remain behind to give them to you,” Hecto assured.

“All right. Well. I guess if that’s settled…” Boss-human was still clearly unsettled about this, but with the proof provided, perhaps that was all he needed. “We’ll try to make arrangements. Saving the world. Heh. I’m… gonna ask for a little more proof later, if y’don’t mind.”

“I have influences elsewhere that may be able to pull strings to reward your organization for your efforts.” Hecto nodded. “Thank you for your time.”

“Right. Well. You gonna come out of that wall and have something to eat, then?”

“Mm.” Hecto uncrossed his arms. “I forgot there was a wall.”

“…Right.” He patted Tim on the shoulder. “Well. Good luck. That’s gonna be your mission for a while, depending on how good his next proof is.”

“R-right, yeah…” Tim looked uneasily at Ayame. “Are we sure about this?” he whispered.

Owen wasn’t, at least not about his confidence in the mission itself. But Hecto showing up suddenly, after that dream a few weeks ago, and everything else? It felt like it was starting to come together. It was true. But he had no idea what would be waiting for him once they got there…

<><><>​

The following days were a confusing haze of activity. As it turned out, Hecto did provide more proof to their boss, from making secret calls to authority figures around the world to outright demonstrating a few more miracles that simple tricks could not replicate. And as Hecto’s final trick, he seemed to have an endless, careless supply of funding to get them immediate and private flights to Orre. Those were apparently agonizing for the humans, but Owen, back in a Poké Ball that was ever so nostalgic, couldn’t have been happier.

The hours passed slowly and cozily until the plane landed. Tim picked Owen’s ball up and slipped him, with a slight and hesitant unfamiliarity, in his bag.

“Now, be careful around here,” said Ayame said. “Orre isn’t exactly the nicest place to be, and we didn’t land in a good spot, either. There aren’t really a lot of good airports in the region…”

She held a hand over her eyes and looked forward. Owen wiggled in his ball.

“Oh. Hang on.” Tim pulled Owen out and released him. Ayame did the same with Ire.

Hot, dry air blasted him immediately, and Owen never realized until just then how much he loved the heat. It was no volcano, but the hot desert had a certain appeal that lush forests, while pleasant to look at, couldn’t provide his fiery scales.

Could do without the sand, though.

All around them, away from the small and barren, gray airport, was an expansive and flat desert of soft sand. Though, there was something strange about Orre that Owen couldn’t quite place…

The wind howled. Plumes of sand scattered across the airport’s roads, obscuring the markings the pilot had probably used to land. The simple street they’d walked through was more a suggestion than a defined path, with only a few vehicles parked in unmarked stalls next to the building. An island of concrete in the middle of a sandy ocean.

“Is it just me or is it kind of… lifeless here?” Tim said.

“There are a few Pokémon in the sands here and there, but most of them died off or went away,” Ayame explained. “You didn’t read anything about Orre, did you?”

“I did!” Tim said.

“He didn’t,” Owen clarified.

Ayame sighed. “A horrible drought that even the desert Pokémon couldn’t bear had bombarded the entire region like a curse. They’re calling it some kind of divine omen, but to me it sounds like a massive upheaval of the climate. Maybe those environmentalist freaks in Hoenn I’ve been reading about are just in the wrong region.”

“What happened to all the Pokémon?” Tim asked. “It’s… empty.”

“For a long time, wild populations had been in massive decline. They say that not a single wild Pokémon lives in Orre, now, not even in the patches of land that are fertile. All the humans caught them. In some ways, it’s a place where the unification of Pokémon and humans reached its logical conclusion… No wild Pokémon. At all.”

Owen’s frown deepened. “That doesn’t sound like how it would turn out.”

“It’s a possibility,” Ayame said, “if we do it wrong, I guess. But this is more from the environment… not from the culture.”

“And what a culture it is!”

Behind them, a tall man with green eyes and red, wild-looking hair approached. Despite the sand flying every which way, his hair seemed to be standing up on its own, like it was genetic, rather than from all the wind.

“I would like you to meet Michael,” Hecto said.

“GAH!” Tim leaped a whole three paces away from the Dusknoir. “When did you get here?!”

“I have been in your shadow.”

“What?!”

“Ahh, hello again, Hecto. A pleasure to see you. As instructed, here I am.” The red-haired human gave a light nod, holding out his hand to Ayame, then Tim, to shake.

“Um, good to meet you. Who are you?” Ayame asked.

“Michael is an esteemed public figure,” Hecto explained, “and is mostly known for his assistance and funding of the Pokémon HQ Lab to the western regions of Orre, quite far from here. They research and study Pokémon extensively and comprehensively, with a focus on ecosystems and battling.”

Owen glanced at Michael. That seemed interesting.

“Oh, you flatter me.” Michael chuckled. “Well, regardless, I am ultimately your guide for this excursion to Orre. We will be going on quite a trip, but I have made all the necessary preparations. You are the last to arrive due to your relative distance and… difficulty with traveling from Almia to Orre.”

“It was pretty far,” Tim said. “How long was that flight? Felt like days…”

“Never were good at math,” Ayame hummed. “Who else is with you?”

“We’re all in there. Come, come!” Michael spun on his heel and walked toward an unassuming but large, brown truck that blended with the sandy horizon.

It beeped twice and the door opened, which prompted someone in the back to shout, “Hey, hey! You’re letting all the cool air out!”

Owen peered inside.

“Oh, great, a Charizard. Get in your ball! I stayed in this truck to keep out of the heat!”

Scowling, the Charizard defiantly continued to inspect the interior.

It was spacious. The truck went back at least three rows, with enough seats to account for a full squad and then some. Michael was the driver, of course, and sitting in the passenger seat was a Vaporeon pressing her face against the air conditioning, looking very content. In the back were several other humans, and they quickly introduced themselves once Tim and Ayame found their seats in the very back.

The rude human, who wore a faded purple jacket and had sandy brown hair, was named Brandon. He radiated an aura of calm confidence and power, and it showed in his belt of six Poké Balls. A full team… Something about that sent a sad pang through Owen’s heart.

The second human was quiet and looked like he was from Kanto, or perhaps Johto, based on his attire and the familiar equipment. This, too, was something Owen didn’t want to look at for very long. This human was named Rhys, and he only had a single Poké Ball with him, which housed a Torkoal.

“That’s curious,” Ayame remarked. “You don’t look as if you’re from Hoenn. Oh, I’m sorry if that’s an assumption, but—Torkoal, was he from somewhere else?”

“Ah, well.”

Instantly, the accent made Ayame flinch.

“Galar, actually. A pleasure to meet you. This is quite a faraway place…”

“I—I’m very sorry.”

“Nice one.” Tim smirked.

“My equipment was actually donated to me thanks to her.” Rhys gestured to the next human.

She was starry-eyed, excitable, and possibly the youngest in the group. “I’m Gurere Utano! And this is my Gastrodon, Ano!”

“NooOOO!” Brandon pointed at her. “Not again! Not here!”

She pouted and put Ano’s ball back in her bag.

“Now, now, play nice!” Michael called back as he took the truck out of park. “Is everyone seated and belted?”

“Uh, yeah, seatbelt’s on,” Brandon said.

“Sorry, Owen. Might be better if you stayed in your ball for now.”

Owen nodded, but then growled at Brandon, who raised his hands mock-disarmingly.

The truck rumbled, and soon they were off and going across barren desert sands.

“No time for sightseeing, I’m afraid,” Michael said, glancing back once they were driving smoothly. “Our first and only stop prior to our destination will be Gateon Port. From there, we will be taking a special trip south, across the sea, to a nearby offshore island called Quartz Isle. That is where Mew is held.”

At the mention of Mew, everyone’s expression seemed to harden—even Hecto, who was floating next to Tim, and was jammed partway into the corner of the truck.

“What’s got all of you guys here, anyway?” Brandon asked with a leisurely shrug.

“Mew helped us try to get my team back,” Tim said. “We were fighting some kind of crime syndicate in Kanto.”

“Oh, Team Rocket,” Brandon said. “Didn’t they get taken down a year or so ago?”

“They—they what?”

“Yeah, it was all over the news. Did you not see it?”

Tim and Ayame stared at each other. Owen tried to get a better angle, but it was hard from Tim’s pocket.

“We’ve sort of… avoided news about Kanto when we could,” Tim admitted. “And Almia is pretty far away.”

“Huh. Well, yeah. They’re taken down. Maybe you should visit sometime.”

“Maybe we should.”

Owen wondered the same thing. Perhaps after they rescued Mew, they could return to Kanto for… something. He wondered if his parents were still at the lab. Probably. It hadn’t been that long, after all, and they’d probably be happy to see him big and strong and with wings… Especially his mother.

“It might still be unsafe,” Ayame hummed. “How thoroughly taken down were they?”

“No idea how thoroughly,” Brandon said. “Some mute kid in red took the big boss down or something. Overwhelmed him with sheer force of will and a crazy energy about him. Pokémon were unnaturally strong and he practically beat the big boss into reforming, somehow. Craziest story I ever heard. Dude had a Pikachu and a Charizard, dunno about the rest of his team. A Pikachu! That one’s his ace! How’s that even work?”

It did sound unbelievable. But this ‘Team Rocket’ being taken down at all was absurd… If Tim couldn’t, then nobody could.

“How about you?” Brandon asked Utano.

“Well, I’m a devout follower of Arceus, you see,” Utano said, and that curious light in Brandon’s eyes immediately went out. “And during one of my prayers, I saw a great, white light, and He told me that I had to do a few things to make the world better. Most of them were community issues, but some specific ones had to do with something awful happening on the east side of Orre. Well, I put a stop to it right away!”

Brandon quirked a brow. “You what now?”

“Utano is responsible for dismantling another budding organization’s efforts to develop a technology that could steal Pokémon from their trainers. It’s actually something that I had been in the middle of investigating myself.”

“Steal—what?” Tim repeated. “How? Grabbing their Poké Ball and—”

“Ohh, far worse than that,” Michael said. “I suppose it’s not relevant right this instant, but there are certainly some shady organizations out and about in Orre. Utano here has a special talent for seeing strange auras around certain Pokémon. She will be able to help us determine if Mew has been tampered with.”

“It runs in the family,” Utano said. “My little sister might be able to do it, too!”

“T-tampered with?” Tim squeezed at Owen’s capsule a little tighter. He was nervous. But Tim didn’t have to worry; Owen knew he couldn’t get tampered with like that.

“Yes. Likely irrelevant. Possibly not. In any case, are any of you fond of particular radio stations? Otherwise, I may just switch to national radio.”

Brandon was already breaking out his earbuds. Utano asked if there were any religious channels. In response, Brandon raised the volume of his music, to the point where Owen could hear it from his Poké Ball.

Eventually, though, Owen drifted off to a nostalgic half-sleep as the truck’s rumbling growls lulled him off.

<><><>​

Owen rolled and tumbled in his ball, the sudden motion startling him awake. He’d hit the ground and hit the far end of whatever room he’d been placed in. Tim was scrambling to him, tripping and tilting in a weird way, and as he tilted, his ball rolled more along the floor. Finally, Tim scrambled enough to pick Owen up.

“Sorry about that,” Tim breathed.

Owen wiggled.

“Ah, no, don’t get out yet,” Tim said. “You might, uh, fall over. We’re on a boat right now.”

First a plane, then a car, now a boat? How much travel did this Quartz Isle need?

Someone knocked on the door to Tim’s cabin, which was filled with only the most basic needs of a bed, a desk, and a light.

“Everything alright in there?” Ayame called through the door.

“Yeah! Uh, my bag just fell.”

“Is your bag filled with concrete?”

“I also fell.”

“That makes more sense. Well, get out already! We’re getting close to shore and we might be in for a rush.”

“A rush?” Tim pulled what he could into his bag and stood up, wobbling his way to the entrance. He slipped Owen into his bag, double-checked his Ranger equipment, and then headed down the boat hall. Owen couldn’t see any particular details other than the fact that it was a medium-sized boat meant for tens of human passengers, perhaps more.

“There is a chance that we will need to fly there,” Michael commented, eyes pressed against binoculars. “Their base of operations is near the shore, but they seem to know we’ve arrived. How interesting!”

“Uh. Interesting?” Tim asked once he got to the deck, where the wind whipped at their faces. “How do you know they see us coming?”

“The incoming Hyper Beam.”

“The wh—”

Wood exploded, metal bent, and glass shattered when the blast of energy struck the area only a few feet away and behind Michael.

Owen poured out of his Poké Ball and grabbed Tim by the shoulder. He flared his wings and bumped Tim on; muscle memory took over from there. The human latched to his back and Owen jumped from the boat, ascending tens of feet into the air in a matter of seconds. Ayame wasn’t far behind with Ire, and Brandon outright threw himself off the boat for a Gyarados waiting for him just underwater. Utano had jumped with him after a second of hesitation.

And Michael just stood there.

“Tim! He’s not moving!”

“What?”

Ire had flown ahead, leaving Michael behind, standing at the front of the dock with his binoculars. He took them off to glance up at Tim. Both the human and Charizard made the same exasperated motion with their arms. Michael waved at them in response like they were passing during their lunch break.

“By the skies, what’s with him!?” Owen muttered. “Alright! I’m going back!”

Michael was pointing toward the shore.

Another Hyper Beam exploded a hole through the ship as more of the skeleton crew scrambled to get out. Michael glanced back at one of the rescue boats; one of the men was ordering Michael to come with them. He shooed them away. Befuddled, the sailor ran with the others to get on the lifeboat.

Owen plucked Michael from under the arms and continued to fly.

“What is wrong with you?!” Owen snarled at Michael.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand you very well.”

“He said what’s wrong with you!” Tim shouted over the wind. “You could have died!”

“Well, the Hyper Beams were clearly going to miss,” Michael pointed out. “I only had to move aside a few steps.” He kicked his feet leisurely, dangling over the ocean. “You have a firm hold of me, yes?”

“He does,” Tim said. “We do rescues like this all the time. He has practice carrying humans this way, but it’s still dangerous. Not exactly used to being under fire—why are you taking this so calmly?!”

“Oh?” Michael tilted his head up. “Well, panicking makes your jobs harder, does it not?”

“Why didn’t you go with the others on the life boat?”

“Well, we’re on a mission, I believe. It seemed you were going to carry me back.” Michael idly kicked his legs again before squeezing his arm to force the binoculars over his eyes. “Ah! They are aiming at Brandon. Hopefully he is quick to avoid those. Oh, very good, very good!”

Brandon had indeed weaved through the ocean at an alarming speed, grasping onto Gyarados’ upper half with practiced ease. Utano was having less luck and was clinging to Brandon’s back with terrified screams that Owen could hear all the way from the skies.

“The closer we get, the less time we have to dodge their attacks,” Tim said. “Soon one of those Hyper Beams will hit us. How do we get out of the way?”

“Well, we should be thankful that they’re not very numerous. They must have done a rush job to stop us. Hmm.” Michael scanned with his binoculars. “I see a few faraway shooters.”

An orange beam cut across the air again, but this time it was going toward the shore.

“Oh, look, that Hyper Beam is from us!”

“Whoa…” Owen had almost forgotten how much power Ire had behind him. The Dragonite’s Hyper Beam left a huge scorch along the sand, sending plumes of debris in the air.

“Hey! Good thinking!” Tim shouted, but they were too far to properly communicate. “Owen, speed ahead. They can’t see us with all that sand.”

“I recommend shooting fire in random directions. Try to make them linger.”

“What? Why?”

“They might try sensing you via heat.”

Owen didn’t know what technology that was, but human magic always had little surprises. He followed Michaels’ instruction, sending the occasional blast of fire ahead of him, behind him, and in trails that would have been possible paths he’d take. He made them slow, hot blasts, ones that stayed for a while—no good for striking, but good to draw attention away.

The shore was visible, white sands blinding against the sun. Owen squinted, using the haze of the debris that Ire’s Hyper Beam kicked up to speed through to find an opening. It occurred to Owen that they had no idea how to regroup with the team. Hopefully Hecto would be able to coordinate that; he seemed to have a talent for appearing just where they needed him.

“Get low to the ground!” Tim shouted. “Keep going forward! Ire’s already through the smoke and—”

Another Hyper Beam shot through the smoke in a complete misfire. There was another explosion and faint shouts of voices Owen didn’t recognize.

By the time they’d gotten through the smoke and landed on pavement—an abandoned street—all Owen saw were fleeing humans and Ayame standing tall with Ire. They were at the very edge of a small town on the island, where the paved roads were halfway covered in the sandy beach. Trees dotted the medians and no place was taller than two stories. Warm but subtle colors dominated the buildings, from soft reds to bright browns, accented occasionally by darker, cooler rooftops.

“Well. That wasn’t so bad.” Ayame clapped her hands together and nodded at Tim. “Their defenses weren’t very strong at all, so it must have been a frantic prep.”

“Which means their real backup should be coming soon,” Tim warned.

“Indeed. We should hide.” Michael adjusted his shirt from all the wind and flames. “Hecto!”

A Dusknoir rose from the ground, pointing to a nearby structure that Owen recognized as a place traveling humans used to roost.

“I have reserved a room for us to stay in for a brief time,” Hecto stated. “We will be found if we stay long, but it can be a moment to breathe before relocating.”

“Right. And the others—”

“I shall gather them. Waste no time.”

<><><>​

Owen and all the others were crammed into a single-bedroom motel room on the second floor. The carpet was a gross green-blue speckled mess and the beds looked like they had only been cleaned the legally required amount. Owen hoped there was a legally required amount, because he’d much rather sleep outside with how they smelled. In the middle of the room was a table with a map of the island spread out. Hecto pointed a massive finger at a spot just slightly inland.

“We are currently on the southeastern corner of this map, nearest to where their underground headquarters are located. It seems that they take advantage of the tourist scene to smuggle their supplies without being detected by authorities. To go deeper inland, perhaps, was a risk. But now we are exploiting it as a vulnerability. Only an hour’s travel is required if we want to be careful and slow, and I’ve arranged for a quiet route.”

“Um, arranged? How?”

“I am in possession of a few assets that will allow you passage there.”

Someone knocked on their door. Everyone stopped murmuring to one another; Owen tried to keep the hum of his flame as quiet as possible.

“It is safe,” Hecto said.

Michael was the one to answer. “Well, thank you, Hecto.” He opened the door to see a Dusknoir with an armful of takeout. “Ah! Well, thank you, Hecto.”

“Wha—” Tim stood up. “You—how—” He pointed at the Dusknoir by the table, then the other one by the entrance, who was setting everything down before disappearing into the wall. “Wait. Why did you knock if you could just pass through the door?”

“It’s polite,” that Hecto said before disappearing.

“I believe these are all of our orders.” Michael handed out each marked meal to everyone. “We shall eat, rest, and then depart first thing in the morning. Will we have enough time for that, Hecto?”

“Yes, that should be safe. I will warn you if we are found sooner.”

While unnerved, they all sat around the table and had their dinners. Brandon had a plate of rice and meats with sides of dumplings, while Utano and Michael both had heroes from the same eatery down the road. Tim and Ayame both ordered the local curry, which turned out to be well-made. Rhys had a sushi plate and seemed to be the only one paying attention to Michael’s babbling about the melting pot of culture that Quartz Isle had, and how it was a shame that it was also the heart of such shady underground activities. Owen tried to pay attention, but something about Michael’s manner of speech made him drowsy.

Another Hecto had returned shortly after with a generous portion of high-quality Pokémon food, and for that, Owen was grateful. He wasn’t used to this particular brand, but it was a decent substitute. He hoped that after the mission was over, he could try something that he’d picked on his own. Surely a melting pot would have all kinds of Pokémon food to try…

“So, uh,” Brandon said near the end of their meal, “Hecto, right? When did you learn how to talk?”

“I acquired this language several centuries ago.”

“Oh. Uh. Didn’t know Dusknoir were immortal.”

“They are not.”

“…So, you’re some demigod Dusknoir servant of Mew?”

“I serve a higher authority.”

“Riiiiight, okay.” Brandon seemed to believe it, yet simultaneously recognized that he wasn’t going to get more. “So, this Mew Star. Can she talk like you?”

“She can, but she prefers not to. She isn’t very fond of humans.”

“Eh, I don’t blame her.” Brandon shrugged. “Humans can be pretty awful. How’d she get caught, anyway?”

“Star has a habit of descending to this world and performing little miracles to help where she feels it’s necessary. And while she generally doesn’t care for humans, she does recognize that a few of them are… better. You all are proof of that. Each of you received help from her in the past, directly or indirectly. That is why she was able to reach out to you in the first place. Receiving such help left behind a trace of a link between you or your Pokémon.”

“Uh-huh. So basically, by chance, she found us, gave us a few perks, and now we gotta return the favor.” Brandon hummed. “Is that the basics?”

“Yes, though you did have a choice.”

“Yeah, yeah. I bet she reached out to a lot of people, the way you describe this being some kind of divine habit.”

“How’d she get caught?” Tim asked.

“Humans are clever,” Hecto said. “When Star descends to this world, she is not at her strongest. It was an inevitability that she would one day get into this kind of trouble, but she does not wish to let Arceus know about it. She is worried about what may happen if—”

“Okay, hang on, you can’t just gloss over that. Arceus, the Sinnoh myth?”

“Yes. He is real. In any case, she doesn’t want—”

“You can’t just drop something like that, hold on!” Brandon narrowed his eyes.

“Well, of course He is real,” Utano said, stars in her eyes. “But I believe that if we pray for help, surely Mew would—”

“He said that he’d be mad,” Tim said, looking at Hecto. “Why?”

Hecto’s red eye flickered. “Well, Arceus had warned not to associate with mortals at all.”

“I mean. He’s right. Mortals suck. I should know, I am one.” Brandon thumbed his chest.

“…Mm. I am losing confidence in this team. I will get back on topic. Mew was captured when she was reckless, and now the humans here are attempting experiments that will put her under their control. The results could be catastrophic, but frankly could be even worse if Arceus finds out. So, your mission is the same. Rescue Mew, and save perhaps this entire island or greater from divine smite.”

“Oh, sure, just throw the world on our shoulders while you’re at it.” Brandon grunted.

“He would not be so cruel.” Utano frowned.

To this, Hecto said nothing.

Rhys, silently eating his meal, placed his fork down and nodded respectfully toward Hecto. “I will trust your judgement. We have only you for guidance in saving her, and I am thoroughly convinced that you would not have gone through this trouble otherwise. I do have one last question, however. If you were so capable of arranging all of this, why were you unable to save Star yourself?”

“A fair question. It is because despite Star’s disdain for humans, she also acknowledges that the bond between humans and Pokémon is something that I alone cannot replicate. Despite my power, I am spread thin, and am not able to do much in a swift manner. I am not the same body you met in Kalos, nor am I the same one any of you met. I am in many places, monitoring this world. But that is what I am best at. Monitoring. I suppose you could call me an Overseer.” His eye flickered again.

“And hooking us up with some great food,” Brandon added, his plate now empty. “So, uh, you’re basically an average Dusknoir, but a lot of them?”

“In power, yes, with a few minor abilities.”

“Like what?”

“Perhaps they will be relevant later.”

“That’s not ominous…”

“It was not intended to be.”

Owen liked Hecto. He had a funny sense of humor.

<><><>​

Morning came, and Hecto reported little in regard to those of the underground organization. One way or another, he had hidden them from detection, or perhaps they were just lucky. But just one night, Hecto explained, had been risk enough. Before noon, they would have to get Star out of trouble, or they may lose their chance for good.

Hecto had procured a tour bus. A strange man in a sea-green uniform drove it, and he looked at them blankly with dark, dark eyes.

“Uhh… are you sure this is safe?” Tim whispered to Hecto.

“It is safe,” the Dusknoir and bus driver said in unison. When the bus driver spoke, a spectral mist poured from his mouth instead of air.

Ayame covered her mouth in shock. “Y-you… that person is…”

“I am in possession of a few assets.”

“H-he’ll be okay, right?”

“Yes. As soon as this drive is complete, he will continue on his way with only a brief lapse of memory.”

“…We’re the good guys, right?” Brandon asked as he entered the bus.

“You are freeing Mew from a terrible fate.”

“I guess.”

“If it is the will of Arceus, then it must be good, by definition,” Utano stated.

“Hrm.” Rhys took a seat first, looking unfamiliar. “Public transport. I have not used it in quite a while.”

“Well, it’s not nearly as bad as it usually is,” Brandon said, taking up three empty seats as he laid down. “The whole bus to ourselves! This is awesome!” His hand landed in an unknown stain and he quickly jerked back. “You know,” he added, wiping it on his shirt, “I went on a party bus back when I was graduating. Now that was a time.”

“You certainly peaked then, didn’t you?” Rhys asked as he sent out his Torkoal, opening a window so any smoke he may form would drift away. It wasn’t very much, thankfully, and the prospect of a smokey smell tempted Owen to come out of his capsule, too.

“Those were the days,” Brandon replied, leaning back with a smile.

“I never really went to school,” Tim said. “Was part of the starter program.”

“Well hey, you got into a successful job in the end, so it worked out.” Brandon shrugged. Tim seemed tense.

“Mm.” Hecto, as the bus driver, spoke up. You will be meeting with one other person when we get there. One person that Mew had connected with lives on this very island. Due to how nearby it was, perhaps it was out of convenience that she helped, but I suspect that she, too, has a strong heart like you all.”

“Oh? One more person?” Brandon asked. “Who?”

The bus stopped at a light. “She is an older woman with a lavender vest. She has knowledge about the security within this underground facility as one of the guards there.”

“What? How come she’s a guard? Is that, uh, is that safe?”

“Yes. There are great punishments for going against their secrecy, but generally speaking the benefit of saving Mew outweighed that. It is hard to compete with divinity.”

“No, but can we trust someone who signed up for that sort of thing?” Brandon asked, skeptical.

“Yes. She, like many in the world, was only looking for a job. She was not aware of what she was guarding until she was informed by me. The horror in her eyes was unmistakable.”

“And not because you were talking to her as a Dusknoir or some other possessed schmuck, right?”

“No, that panic passed quickly.”

“You really gotta work on your social skills.”

“Mm. Noted.”

“I think he’s quite fine, social wise!” Michael said cheerily. “A very well-adjusted Pokémon.”

“Well, when Michael’s the one vouching for you, I guess I’m the wrong one.”

<><><>​

The bus dropped them off near an unassuming parking lot of a barren strip mall. Not many cars parked here and the stores were run-down and only a few seemed to show any signs of being active at all. Was it some kind of front? Not many roads led there, either. Owen couldn’t get a good look from inside his capsule, but Tim seemed cautious.

The bus drove away and another Dusknoir emerged from the ground. “Come.”

“You know, this could still be an elaborate plot to get a bunch of people together to kill them,” Brandon mused to the others as they walked. “You think that’s what’s going on? Go around the world, multicultural killing event? You know, for diversity.”

“You’re not very funny.” Utano pouted.

“And there is Madeline,” Hecto said.

Standing by one of the abandoned stores was a woman with dark purple hair and a vest to match. There was a piercing look about her green eyes that Owen saw even from his ball.

“Hello, Madeline,” Hecto greeted.

“Is this everyone?” Madeline asked. “You said six trainers.”

Tim counted their group. Himself, Ayame, Utano, Michael, Brandon, and Rhys. That was six, which made Madeline their seventh. Seven made sense. The strongest Pokémon teams involved six Pokémon and a human. But to have seven humans, did that mean they were a super-team? Though, not all of them had six Pokémon. Tim and Ayame both only had one…

“Okay. Once I get you all inside with clearance, you’ll only have a few minutes to get in there and rescue Mew.”

“A-a few minutes? To explore a whole facility?”

“We have a map and Hecto told me which room has Mew,” Madeline explained, pulling out a strange device to display a screen to the humans, who all huddled together. Owen, in Tim’s pocket, saw nothing.

“That’s deep,” Brandon said lowly.

“The elevator works, right?” Tim asked worriedly.

“What’s our exit strategy?” Rhys asked.

“There appears to be a fire exit we can take. It’s only a few flights.”

“Yeah, a few flights with the whole facility on our tail…”

“Time is short,” Hecto said. “This is going to be reckless, but we have no choice. Are we ready?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go.” Hecto disappeared into the wall, gesturing for them to go ahead.

“…I said no, but alright,” Brandon growled, but then, perhaps for the first time, the gravity of what they were doing must have dawned on him. He glanced back at the others. “I know we went all this way, but—”

“It’s for Mew,” Tim said, nodding. “She saved all of us once, right? So…”

Brandon sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “I better get a good afterlife for this.”

<><><>​

Madeline had taken on the role of showing some new recruits around the facility, up to the point where they had been authorized to go. The walls were a sterile white and her steps often echoed against the concrete halls. Lights evenly illuminated the halls, and there was nothing organic or appealing about it at all. Owen hoped they would leave soon. Pipes lined the higher portions of the ceilings, probably carrying water and other building-essential material.

Hecto was hiding in the walls again. Owen spent his time listening carefully to what Madeline was saying as they went deeper into the facility, showing what might have been an abridged version of the same tour Madeline had once been given.

Owen had no idea what sort of strings Hecto had pulled, or what sort of planning Madeline had performed, but they made it to a lower floor without incident.

Tim clutched at Owen’s capsule, signaling to him that he should be ready to be summoned at any time. Owen wiggled in response. Yes, he was ready.

Madeline suddenly dropped the tourist act and everyone’s pace quickened. “From here on out,” Madeline said, “if we’re questioned, we just have to power through. There’s no point anymore, right?”

“Yes. Subdue them.”

“Uhh, subdue?” Tim asked. “How? I only have a Charizard, so he’s not very good at—”

“Hey, what’s going on? You aren’t supposed to be—”

An unknown voice was abruptly shut down after a soft POP noise startled Owen even as he was weightless in his capsule. Then there was a thud.

“M-Michael!” Utano gasped.

“Yes?”

“What did you do?!”

“Subdue.”

“With a—what is that?” Brandon pointed.

“Portable Thunder Wave.”

“When did you—”

“Shall we advance? I have a few more of these in case it’s needed.”

“Gah—you’re nuts. Zeke!” Brandon tossed a Poké Ball and out came a Blaziken, already prepared for stealth. “Ready to kick some faces if we need to?”

Zeke hesitantly nodded.

“Don’t worry, just enough to knock them out,” Brandon added.

“Humans?” Zeke asked uncertainly.

“Trust me, we might need to here,” Brandon said. “Only this once, alright?”

“What did he say?” Michael asked Brandon.

“He’s just apprehensive. Let’s go!”

“Should Owen come out?” Tim asked.

“That flame won’t help us stay hidden. Save it for fighting.”

Owen shifted restlessly, but the rude human was right. More loud POP sounds meant Michael was making good use of his Thunder Waves, while Brandon’s Blaziken kicked down several doors that had required passcodes. So much for being subtle. They’d asked Hecto why the security cameras didn’t alert anyone to anything. Hecto’s reply had been, simply, that he’d ‘taken care of it.’ Nobody asked him to elaborate.

“Looks like a lot of these doors aren’t element-proof,” Brandon remarked. “Which means we need to go deeper for the real high-security stuff, don’t we?”

“Yes. We need a key to get through those,” Madeline said. “We’ll have to find an administrator. They’re deeper inside, but their Pokémon are extremely powerful.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Hecto said. “There is one who had been on a lunch break with their Pokémon in another location. Security negligence. It was an easy social manipulation. I am in the process of subduing him. Continue down this hallway.”

How much had Hecto arranged for this? Owen took note not to be on his bad side.

Down the hall, in a large but empty cafeteria, someone was screaming bloody murder.

Brandon kicked the door down unnecessarily and searched for the source. “Whoa!” He cursed several times, reeling at the sight.

A man was being dragged into the ground, kicking and flailing and screaming, by great, powerful arms. The shadows expanded and the man disappeared, his screams cut off in an instant. Several seconds later, a second Dusknoir rose from the ground and tossed a card toward the first. He then handed it to Brandon, who stared at them with wide eyes. He asked Hecto about what had just happened using words Owen wasn’t allowed to use.

“I have acquired a key card to enter the deepest areas of the base. We should not wait any longer. They may put the area in lockdown soon.”

“N-hang on, did you just—where’s that guy now?”

“Nowhere to concern yourself with.”

“Is he okay?”

“Physically.”

They all stared.

“Shall we rescue Mew?” Hecto asked.

Owen was definitely glad Hecto was on their side.

They made it to more stairs that were, after a painful revelation from Zeke, element-proof. The card, immediately useful, opened the path down, where the concrete walls transitioned to more reinforced hallways that lined several more rooms all evenly spaced throughout the facility. Their steps echoed across the way and had it not been for Hecto’s guidance, they might have been lost for hours finding where the specific room had been.

Many times, they were stopped or pursued by guards. With help from Elder’s Smokescreens, Brandon’s team’s general prowess, or, indeed, the brute force of Ire’s Hyper Beam, they were able to power through after great effort.

“They really weren’t expecting us!” Tim shouted.

“We’re almost there. The hard part will be escaping,” Hecto stated. “One of us will go inside to rescue Mew. The rest must hold off every single guard. Prepare to push through for our escape. Failure will mean death for you.”

“Oh, I didn’t get that part of the memo,” Brandon grunted, stopping at the door that Hecto gestured to. “I’ll hold off the guards while I can.”

“I will, too,” Ayame added, sending Ire out again. “Tim! Go inside and get Mew. She might need to be calmed down and you’re better at that.”

“Oh! Thanks! I—”

“Gratitude later, Tim!”

Tim grasped at Owen and sent him out; finally, he could spread his wings! Owen scanned his surroundings to make sure he had the right impression. Inside, Michael had already dispatched a few scientists that had been working on a large computer. There were several guards outside that Brandon and Ayame were fending off. Utano was pointing frantically at a chamber deeper inside, behind a glass window, and then further in a large, glass cylinder in the center. A small, pink creature was writhing in pain inside as a strange energy coursed through metal.

“It’s horrible, all those black clouds,” Utano said, but Owen could see no such thing. This must have been her special power. “We need to break that glass! And be careful not to be too close for too long!”

“What is happening to her?” Michael asked, looking over the computer systems carefully. “It appears that whatever is being done to her, it seems to be at around half of its maximum capacity, climbing steadily. I do not want to adjust anything I’m not familiar with. A manual override may be necessary.”

“How do you manually override?”

“Find a weak point in the chamber and break it open. It seems to be all kinds of element-proof, so that may be easier said than done…”

Owen stomped toward the computer. “I can break it if you want.”

“Are you trying to help? No, don’t press anything,” Michael said. “Destroying the computer could do something even worse. Give me time. I’m going to try opening the chamber first, once I find the proper command in this… awful interface, really.”

Just outside the room, Ire barked in pain.

“We need to hurry,” Tim said, grabbing the card from Hecto before pressing it randomly on the glass.

“What are you doing?” Hecto said.

“There’s got to be some way through this glass, right? There’s no doorway inside so you probably need to—”

“Ah! Tim, go back a few paces!” Michael yipped.

Tim followed Michael’s instruction. After a few moments, Michael performed a few keystrokes, and the glass door slid just slightly to the side.

“Perfect!” Michael clapped. “Go inside and see if the glass inside is breakable, too!”

Owen followed Tim inside and he started to tap the same card on the inner chamber, frowning at the twitching Pokémon inside. Owen had never seen it in person before—at least, he didn’t think so. Yet, she looked so familiar to him. Her presence was familiar. That same, powerful feeling when they’d raided those evil humans’ hideout…

“Oh, hello,” Michael said. “Yes, I believe this should do it.”

He pressed something, and there was a beeping noise, then a loud alarm and flashing lights. The Mew in the chamber dipped lower and the glass unsealed itself… but then the thick, glass window behind them also sealed itself, trapping Tim and Owen inside.

“Uh—Michael?” Tim called, but Michael didn’t hear him. The glass was soundproof. Michael stood from the computer and approached the window, saying something, but Owen couldn’t hear it.

“G… gh… kkhhh…”

Michael was pointing urgently toward Mew, who was trembling in midair, curled up tight.

“Go… away…”

“Mew, it’s okay. We’re here to help,” Tim said gently. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I want… you to… go away. H-humans… all humans…”

“I can’t understand her,” Tim whispered to Owen. “What’s she saying? She sounds distressed.”

“She doesn’t like humans,” Owen summarized.

“What? But—”

“I SAID GO AWAY!”

Owen didn’t see it directly, but it was a distortion of light tinged with a strange, horrid feeling. When it struck him and bludgeoned his chest, it also felt like it was acidic, eating away at his scales like hot sand against ice. He screamed and found himself on the wall; the pain of hitting it came seconds later. The burning on his chest took precedent.

He’d never felt that kind of power before. Was this what it meant to be a god? How strong was she?

Owen couldn’t even see straight, but he saw the pink figure drifting toward Tim, who had been slammed against the opposite wall, and that was more than enough to shoot a gout of flames as a warning shot.

The embers didn’t even touch her. She wasn’t even aware that he was there, and his flames bounced off of an invisible wall around the Mew. Despite this, it got her attention.

And for that brief instant, he saw her face. It was awful. A mixture of cruelty and anger and pain and tears. But that was all he saw before another distortion, this one tinged with darkness, rushed toward him. Unable to move quickly, he brought his wings and arms forward to block it.

The next thing he knew, he was laying on his side with more burning pain on his back. He tried to sit up and search for Tim, but a wave of nausea and dizziness stopped him. He tried to hold up his arms, but only one responded, with most of the scales peeled clean off, revealing tender skin. His back was stuck to the wall and he forced himself to his feet, wincing in pain.

He didn’t want to know what his wings looked like. Not after seeing the stain of blood on the wall he’d stood up from.

Ahead, Tim was dodging the same blows that Mew had sent his way, and Mew herself was snarling at a ring of energy that surrounded her.

“Please!” Tim shouted. “It’s—it’s going to be okay! Please calm down, Mew!”

Michael was frantically pressing several buttons on the computer to try to do something, but nothing was helping. The system had gone into some kind of secure lockdown mode; escape was impossible.

Further back, Ayame and Ire, with Brandon, were losing ground against the onslaught of guards, and no doubt the elites were there. Even if they calmed Mew, would there be a way out?

Tim encircled Mew again, more and more, but it didn’t look like he was able to calm her at all. There was something in the way, something weakening his human magic. Owen had to help. Mew seemed distracted. Maybe this time, he’d be able to get a shot in.

That attack. That strange attack that she’d done. Could he copy it?

He grasped at the lingering air… No. It was too horrible. He’d never seen something like it before, something that couldn’t be copied. But there were other essences he could try. Grasping at one, he pulled it toward himself and tried to sent it back.

A ball of darkness—he recognized this one. It felt like Hecto’s. Was he also trying to calm her from somewhere?

Owen held out his good hand, forming that Shadow Ball in his palm. Then, clenching his three claws together, he fired—contact! Mew didn’t have a shield this time!

But all it did was dissolve against the back of her head, and she turned around with fire in her eyes.

Owen’s body jolted. He didn’t even see the attack coming. Another distortion of light, ringing in his ears—he heard Tim scream.

Then, he made the mistake of looking down. He wondered if he would ever forget what that attack had done to his body… There wasn’t a hint of cream-colored scales on his front anymore. It was all crimson.

Mew drifted toward him. There was another distortion, but this time Tim tackled her from behind. Mew screamed, and then Owen acted without thinking. Nothing hurt and he knew everything should have, but Tim was in danger. That mattered more. A burning, final gout of fire shot toward Mew, and Owen didn’t let up. He stared at Tim as well as he could, glaring. Keep calming her, he ordered.

Somehow, Tim heard him. And somehow, Tim kept going. Those final few rings made Mew waver. She stared angrily at Tim, but then back at Owen, and that final hesitance allowed Tim to fully envelop her in light.

“Please,” Tim begged. “We aren’t like the others. We came here to rescue you. H-Hecto sent us!”

Mew gasped. The lights disappeared, but so did all the fire in her eyes. It was like she’d woken up.

Ayame and Brandon had to fall back and shut the door to recover. Ire was badly hurt; Brandon was clutching at his arm and one eye was closed and bleeding.

But that was all Owen could see. His vision was darkening rapidly. He glanced down at his tail. The flame was wavering.

“Owen.” Tim held his shoulder. He felt so warm. “Owen, stay with me, okay? L-let me get your Poké Ball, o-okay? I’ll—” Tim dug through his bag, but it had been torn to shreds from some of Mew’s attacks. He looked around frantically for his supplies, but the metal of the room had been so warped. Owen’s ball might have fallen through the cracks of the room. “Just—just hang on, okay?!”

Owen tried to reach for Tim with his one arm, falling onto him. He couldn’t see anymore. But he could hear him sobbing. It’s okay, he told him. He wasn’t sure why. Things were most definitely not okay, but that’s what Tim needed to hear. It’s okay. Can you hear me?

“Owen… please… st-stay awake, okay? Okay? We’ll get out of this s-soon…”

The doorway smashed open due to some Pokémon’s strikes, far stronger than anything Owen had ever dealt. The ground rumbled. Ayame shouted a command; Ire roared. Ire’s roar was cut short and Ayame screamed. And then her scream, too, was cut short.

“It’s my fault…”

That was Mew’s voice.

“Oh, God… it’s my fault…”

Brandon barked a taunt, then called for Zeke, and then flames and kicks rocked the air. Owen finally realized that meant the glass door must have opened again, or perhaps shattered.

“No… I…” Mew’s voice was shaking. “I can’t… no! Please! St… stop!”

Brandon cried Zeke’s name. A cruel human’s laughter echoed. Owen envisioned Zeke crumpled to the ground and Brandon trying to protect him with his body. He practically saw it, even though he was completely blind. That seemed like the kind of human Brandon was.

Utano screamed next. Rhys called for a Smokescreen. Madeline was wordless, but Owen heard her grunts as she tried to fight back herself. Nothing was working.

So many other shouts… Humans he didn’t recognize. Humans that he did. But then, crying above them all—

“STOOOOP!”

Metal twisted from under Owen; glass shattered and particles of it landed painfully in his flesh. The humans that Owen didn’t recognize were screaming, but they all were cut off with gurgling wheezes. Something pulled him away, and he fell a foot in height, landing roughly on hot ground. The sun was beating down on him and the humid island air filled his nostrils.

He was so tired. The sun was so comfortable. Tiny, soft paws touched his cheeks, and a voice, so clear, spoke to him.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… Please, are you awake? Can you hear me?

It was a struggle just to reply in his mind, because that was all he could do. …Mew… Star?

Something embraced him. Tim’s hand was still firmly on his shoulder, refusing to let go.

Warmth spread across his chest, then an uncomfortable, tingling feeling of electricity. It was an itch he couldn’t scratch that evolved into an excruciating, needle-like sensation all over his wounds. He whimpered again, and then realized that he could talk. Blurry shapes returned to his vision.

All he saw was Tim, his face screwed up in a horrible, pained cry. Owen spat a tiny ember in his face and tried to smile. With that ember was a small spatter of blood, and Owen grimaced at that.

“Owen?” Tim asked. “Owen?!”

Owen could only smile back. He glanced at his flame. It was growing.

Mew pulled away from him and drifted to another one—Ire. He had a hole straight through him. What kind of destructive power could have caused something like that?

Ayame was holding Ire in her arms, but he was unresponsive. Mew coated him in a pink light…

There were unrecognizable humans nearby. Confused, terrified Pokémon stood next to them, like they didn’t know what to do with themselves. Were they being commanded by those humans?

Owen stared at the humans for a little while longer, like he couldn’t register what had happened to them. And soon, he realized why—human bodies… didn’t twist in that way.

He averted his eyes. Couldn’t stomach that for long.

“I’m sorry,” Mew said. She was in the hand of Hecto again.

The Dusknoir had a grave look in his red eye. “Do not worry. You are safe. Those who rescued you are safe. Your assailants cannot pursue you now.”

“I… told him.”

The grave look redoubled. “What do you mean, Star?”

“I told him that… I was there… I w-was so desperate, I…”

“Who? Merely one of His avatars, or…”

But Hecto’s answer came from the sky as a deep, thunderous rumble shook the earth.

Silver bolts of lightning traced the sky at a speed far slower than any kind of electricity Owen had ever seen. A swirling vortex of gray clouds with a central circle revealing a starry void overtook all of Quartz Isle’s sky. Owen saw a white figure with a gold ring around it somewhere near the middle of that vortex… He also saw that many of those stars were getting brighter.

Madeline suddenly cursed, standing up before, just in time, Brandon’s Salamence fired a Dragon Pulse to deflect an incoming Flamethrower. That fire would have hit Madeline directly…

Countless guards were pouring from the secret entrance.

Mew was making strange gestures as a white light formed around her paws, but then fizzled out. Was she trying to Teleport? What was blocking her? Owen saw traces of ethereal chains around the Mew’s shoulders; following them with his eyes, they seemed to go toward an Alakazam. He was sealing Teleport, but that same Alakazam was making Utano tremble. Owen figured she was seeing another dark aura.

Owen tried to stand, but he was too weak. The guards were closing in.

“I see,” Hecto said solemnly, amid all the tension and rising panic. He folded his fingers over themselves. “Tim. I would like to personally thank you for freeing Star of that dark power—”

“Y-you can thank me when we escape!” Tim was searching for Owen’s Poké Ball again.

“…And I am sorry,” Hecto finished.

And that was all.

The sky was bright. That once-black void with only pinpricks of stars had become a blinding field of countless suns. Trails of light rained down on Quartz Isle, all the way up to its shores. The ground shook; an ethereal hum muted all other sounds. Hecto’s red eye was dim in acceptance; nobody else understood what was happening.

One of the beams of light was upon them. Owen remembered a great heat and Tim holding his body in a final embrace, and then nothing.

<><><>​

It isn’t right. None of it is right… I’m going to fix it. It’s the only way I can make this right. I hope… I hope you can forgive me. I’m sorry for causing all this.

Pain.

Sharp, seething pain jolted its way up and down Owen’s body, accompanied by an intense, dull pressure that squeezed against every muscle. Movement hurt. Stillness hurt. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. He tried as hard as he could to roll, but it wasn’t working. Everything was still a hazy ball of pain that he didn’t even know the terrain he was on. He couldn’t focus on what he was seeing or smelling.

He blindly reached forward, realizing that his eyes were closed. It was nighttime, but the dim glow of his flame was bright, and he tried to curl it forward fort an easier look. Yes, no injuries, so that was a good start. His flame was bright. Then why did everything hurt so much?

Someone was groaning next to him. He didn’t have the strength to move. So instead, he gave in, just for a short rest. Perhaps that was all he needed to feel better…

His dreams were nothing but flashes of images and emotions and sound, but no comprehensive sequence of events. He saw a pink creature and felt an emotion of relief and urgency, but he couldn’t remember why. There was also a sense of dread and maybe a little pain. Shouting. He saw a bright sky when there shouldn’t have been one, and then—darkness. Screaming, only to be cut off. He heard an apology afterward. And then, and then, and then… No. He couldn’t remember.

While he hadn’t been entirely sure it would happen, Owen woke up, and the pain had almost completely vanished. All that remained was a phantom, dull, bruise-like feeling all over his body that didn’t get better or worse no matter what he did. Perhaps that, too, would eventually fade. He sat up and grunted lightly to himself.

Surrounding him was tall grass and a far, flat field. Dotting the field were ruined buildings that had been covered in dirt and sand. It was like a bomb had gone off and then nature reclaimed the land…

He was on the top of one of the few hills in the entire landscape—at least, as far as his blurry morning vision could see—with only a tree to keep them sheltered. It hadn’t rained, and he didn’t feel uncomfortable aside from that phantom full-body pain, so it was probably a drier environment. But it wasn’t too dry, because his flame hadn’t left scorches on the lush grass.

For a while, Owen ran his claws along the ground in fascination, distracted, thoughtless. But then something came back to him.

Tim!

Where was—

How did they get here?

What… happened before?

“Ughh…”

Owen jumped, startled. Someone was there?

Amid the tall grass, there was a pink figure curled up, small and delicate. “Um… hello?”

“Hello?” the creature groaned. He was barely bigger than Owen’s hands. “Who’s there?”

“Just me.”

After more groaning and rolling, he finally sat up and brushed the grass off of his head. He blinked several times at Owen as his view presumably cleared up.

“…GAH!” He yelped and fell backward. “Yeowch, okay, hang on. Sorry, startled me. You are… a lot bigger than me.”

“Uh, sorry.” Owen rubbed the back of his head. “Hey, you’re… familiar.”

The pink creature hummed. “I am?” He played with his ears, fascinated by them for some reason. “I don’t feel familiar at all… That’s strange, isn’t it?”

Owen had no idea what he was talking about.

“But you definitely are familiar. Your name… I remember your name. Owen, right?”

“Y-yes.” Owen stared, and the next words came without him thinking. “And you’re… Tim.”

“That’s right!” Tim gasped. “I—” Suddenly, he stopped talking, and Owen felt a massive pressure smash into his forehead.

Tim must have felt the same, clutching at it, groaning, falling onto his back.

Then, he gasped and sprang onto his feet. “Owen!” Recognition flashed in his eyes. “What in the world was that? I’d completely forgotten about you!”

“Me, too!” Owen tried to stand, but it was hard at first. Too long on the ground. “I feel kinda bad about it… I feel like I shouldn’t just forget you like that.”

“Do you remember anything?” Tim asked, floating a little higher, wobbly. “Ugh, I feel like I can’t… move this body right at all. Something’s off. What am I again?”

“What are you? How hard did the brain block hit you?” Owen remarked, but then frowned deeply. That was true. Something happened to make them forget…

But he did remember one thing. “You’re a Mew,” he said to Tim.

“Mew… Mew… That sounds familiar.” He nodded. “Okay. I’m a Mew. And you’re a Charizard.”

“Right.” At least that one Owen also knew.

“And right now, we’re…” Tim floated a little higher until he was at Owen’s height. “…I have no idea where we are.”

“Maybe we should fly around and see?” Owen asked. “Here, hop on.” He crouched down so Tim could hop on.

The Mew tried to climb, but quickly got frustrated and fell off, but then realized how slowly he’d fallen. “Wait a minute…” He kicked the ground and held his position. “…Hey! I can fly!”

“Y-you can?” Owen blinked. “That’s… odd.”

“Yeah… I don’t remember flying before. But I think I naturally can? Ugh, my head… Whatever. Let’s look for the others, alright? I know there were others with us.”

Owen grunted in approval and helped Tim on anyway. The Charizard and the Mew ascended to the skies of a strangely familiar, yet unfamiliar horizon, with nothing but ruined buildings and fields of grass in sight. Owen vaguely recalled this world to be called Quartz.

 

[canisaries]

Alright! It's been a while, but the hands of fate have finally slapped me into continuing this story via Catnip. I did have to do a bit of rereading to find the place where I'd last left off and to generally remind myself of everything that's happened recently in the story (and it definitely ended up necessary), but now I've finally made it to Special Episode 7, the first new chapter I've read in probably months. And this time I took notes, too, so hopefully returning will be a lot smoother in the future if I end up taking a longer break again.

Quote Commentary

“You’re ten years too early to say stuff like that,” Spice taunted.

related

Jerry remembered one of them had to be scrapped entirely because it was too similar to a weird medicine. Something about using Salazzle toxins a certain way…

horny
horny potion

Above, he spotted a surprisingly lithe Obstagoon. She narrowed her eyes and, with one swing, threw herself beside Jerry and picked him up with a sweeping motion from her other arm.

I don't really know how I'm meant to visualize her throwing herself beside Jerry with a swing outside her doing like a Tarzan vine swing. But it could be a legit phrase too and I just haven't encountered it before this.

Finally, he had the door open. Inside were Pokémon he didn’t recognize nor cared about, and at the back of the office, lined with off-white scrolls and maps, was an Archeops. His eyes narrowed, and Jerry felt, briefly, like coming was a mistake—but he still had to deliver the message.

Before the reveal of the king's species, I was actually speculating it might be Alex (or whoever the Voidlands king is) and that Jerry and Owen could be semi-siblings in some twist of irony. Little did I know Jerry was actually the son of infamous psycho streamer Jerma985

He shooed Flareon away despite stomping out of his office first.

I'm trying to wrap my head around how this works but I'm not getting there. This makes it sound like he shooed the Flareon away after he'd exited the office and while the Flareon was still inside. I guess it's possible for him to make a shooing motion at the Flareon and the Flareon correctly interpreting it as the king wanting him out of the office despite the gesture being aimed in the opposite direction of the Flareon's way to the exit, but to me, the action of shooing so strongly evokes the image of waving your hands at something to make it go further away from yourself, so it just ends up as a contradiction in my brain anyway. I think the reverse order in which these events are told adds to that confusion, too.

Outside, the bonfires were blazing as usual, and Jeremy was flying, unguarded, over them and toward the southern entrance. Jerry saw something purple going down the slopes, too, which was an odd color around here. And green, which was even stranger, since it reminded him of leaves. Generally, something that didn’t last long in Pyrock.

During the chapter (or Episode, technically) I had some trouble telling apart Jeremy and Jerry in narration, especially here at the start, but I don't really know how to avoid that without changing the name entirely. Jeremiah instead of Jeremy? It's a bit more different. Would also fit his pride to make everyone say a name that long, maybe.

The Goodra was similarly bound. His horns were tied up in a strong cloth and wound together so it was impossible to move them for attacks. His arms, while small, were similarly bound in front of him; his tail was pinned to his back; and lastly, his mouth was muzzled to prevent any Dragon blasts.

silence of the anams

It wasn’t often that Jerry brought his mother out in public. For one, it was tiring for her—she had hatched in an odd way, or something had gone wrong somewhere, and it made moving difficult. Her muscles didn’t grow properly, and she was never worthy of flight. But Void Basin’s blessings had given Jerry vitality that his mother would never have—at least, that was how his father attributed such a successful egg to come from his mate.

god and i thought prayers unheard couldnt get any more depressing

Despite her shaky stature, her eyes were firm, and she gave a very political, balanced compromise to Obstagoon. She would be too slow to walk the whole way to the bonfire, but she refused to be carried any longer than would be practical. The rest of the way, she’d go on her own, and that was why Brigid was the strongest Pokémon in Pyrock. Nothing could convince Jerry otherwise.

aww :)

Goodra jolted. “Huh?!” He looked at his hand, then at the rope that was supposed to have bound them together. It was embedded into his torso. “Oh! I’m sorry!” He reached down and slipped his hands back into the binds, and Jerry was positive he’d seen them melt through the rope.

lmao

The crowd was buzzing again, but Jeremy held up a wing and they quieted down. “

stray quote

We serve kilo and all its parts

Is the dropped capital here intentional?

Anam brightened. “Well, I want to accept you wholeheartedly, too!”

a master of branding

Jerry raced the sunrise to Void Basin. There was already a crowd gathering near the edges of the forest where the trees stopped growing and the desolate landscape of the crater began. Southwest of Kilo Mountain, Void Basin mirrored the Chasm to the southeast, but unlike its inky blackness, the Basin’s bottom was clearly visible. Just rock, largely uninteresting, but it was sacred.

I mentioned this in DMs, but yeah, there being two huge craters that aren't specifically established as separate places and have similar names is somewhat confusing. It would be good to set them apart as early as possible, but I'm not sure if there's a natural way of doing that here.

Anyway, it's really funny how these people consider sacred something that's basically just a huge fucking hole in the ground, but possibly funnier is the fact that this is usually just how it goes in real life. Weird big landmark? Probably godly. Better play it safe and respect that place.

As for why there are two of these craters in locations that seem to mirror each other, I have a theory. Someone's trying to make a huge smiley face and these are the eyes.

It was always strange that Spice could come here on her own. Neither of her parents were under its protection, and her sister, too, couldn’t come close. Yet to Spice, she behaved like it was her second home.

yeah it's probably nothing and her black protect and feeling weird and insomniac after dark matter's attack isn't related in any way

And then everything was still. Eyes locked to shadows. Soon, at the sun’s apex, it was as if Void Basin had nothing but light, and yet somehow it seemed darker all the same, like the sun itself avoided its lifeless crater.

So did it happen to be a specific time of the year when the sun would be in zenith at noon, or does Kilo's planet have no tilt, making every day at the equator have the sun at zenith at noon? Genuinely can't remember if seasons have been mentioned before.

It could also be that the sun's close enough to the zenith at noon to make a hole appear like it has no shadows for most of the year and I just live way too high up on the planet to understand. Or the Basin doesn't just go straight down but has considerable slopes on its sides. I'm probably overthinking this all anyway.

Yet it was something they feared, as the Quartz Kingdom still paid no taxes or any sort of trade for those donations.

well goddammit *takes sharpie and draws yet another line between two entities on a whiteboard nearly black with words and connecting lines*

Even Spice was not allowed to go, even though she still called it her second home, treating it the same way one would regard a pristine beach shoreline, was not allowed to go there anymore.

I think I understand what the last two clauses are expressing but the grammar feels really questionable.

It drove the father mad. His pride ate away at his psyche, and Jerry remembered several nights where he woke up to him screaming at the air, at his reflection, at the sky, about how he was the King, how Quartz Kingdom was strong, and how no simple-minded Goodra would ever take that away from him.

the absolute seethe and cope

And with a defiant growl, the last kingdom was gone, and Anam took over the world.

great, now kilo can advance to space stage

Jerry landed flat on his back, covered in thin, toxic venom that stung his scales. He snarled and tried to stand up, but the Salazzle was already on top of him, with her foot firmly on his chest.

something you wanna share with the class namo?

He stored the Toxic fluids for later.

😳 gamer girl toxins

It had been there for a while, tended to by the whole family, though it hadn’t shown any signs of movement. Slow grower, Jerry figured.

*sweats*

She wore a serious, yet mischievous smirk,

I genuinely cannot visualize a serious smirk, let alone one that's still mischievous at the same time.

Jerry didn’t really care a s long as it wasn’t too intensive and paid well.

stray space

Around when he only had a quarter of his plate left, mostly the veggies that he was reluctant to eat, a Clefable strode by his table and sat across from him, giving a sweet smile. That much was normal enough. In communal areas like this, picking the same table by coincidence wasn’t that strange.

What was strange was all the free seats around him at this quiet time of day.

Clefable had a modest tart for a meal, half eaten with all of the strawberries missing and a few too many blueberries. No Orans or other medicinal berries here. In fact, they seemed to almost be deliberately missing.

Jerry’s eyes flicked to Clefable, and their eyes met.

“How’s the tart?” Jerry asked, his tone businesslike.

“Missing some of my favorites,” Clefable replied.

“Eh.” Jerry dug through his bag. “Here, hun”—he didn’t know this Clefable for more than these meetings—“Pechas, like you like ‘em to cut the sour. Helps against poison. Heard that even Salazzle poison can’t stand up to it.”

I think this being cover could have been hinted at a bit more as being that to the reader, because I actually just got confused at the start over whether I was meant to think they actually knew each other as friends or not.

“She’s nobody to worry about,” Jerry dismissed with a casual wave. He looked through the bag of coins, narrowed his eyes, and then pulled out a bag of seeds. This one was smaller than the last one, and Clefable noticed.

am i witnessing a fucking pokemon drug deal

Brigid smiled, sly. “I’ll distract him,” she said. “I know just the thing.”

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes that amused Jerry, though it wasn’t until he’d gone to bed that he realized that some of it was shame.

oh god oh fuck

“Anam can override any passing tests if the person taking them is… well, for any reason,” Spice said. “It’s a strange rule and he rarely enforces it, but every time he has, it’s because they’re… well, I don’t really know. It’s always found out later that something they did was… morally questionable.”

ANAM NO HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN KUNG FU PANDA

Brigid was on the ground, eyes closed in a pained grimace. Jerry didn’t know if she was breathing, but she was trembling and shaking weakly. Turned on its side was the egg with a crack along its shell, but the crack wasn’t sharp, it was more like a tear, and what seeped out was something that never had a chance of hatching.

Then there was Jeremy, standing over Brigid and facing the entrance. His eyes had an annoyed, yet distant look to them, like he hadn’t expected Jerry to come home so early, and that it was an inconvenience that he did. His right claw had flecks of crimson on them. That bruise on Brigid’s side had gashes.

“…She fell,” Jeremy said.

Jerry didn’t remember what happened next.

FUCK

“Spice… they were hidden in—”

“His father,” Spice said shortly,

whoa so even kilo has drug mules

But there she stood, embracing him, taking him under her wings. No matter what cracks had formed in that image in his mind of her… She was all he had left. After everything, Brigid remained. She was the strongest Pokémon he’d ever known.

fuck 😢

---

General Thoughts

This chapter really shows just how scary Anam is from an outside perspective as this unstoppable force that's just claiming all these kingdoms somehow, shrugs off massively powerful attacks and removes people's incredible powers like they're nothing - but the most disturbing part is just how much his personality and behavior clashes with it all. That combined with his unnatural all-slime body just makes him seem so alien and unpredictable, even when the reader already knows this friendliness and goodwill is all real and Anam really doesn't have a mean bone in his body (pun not intended). It'd scare any monarch, overconfident or not.

The main revelation though, of course, is Jerry's backstory. I do have to say that this special royal background kind of deflates the concept of him being just this regular person among all these powerful important beings and bringing the perspective of the everymon to the table, which is what I considered one of his most interesting qualities as a character. I do suppose, though, that he is still more normal compared to all the others and has a lot of experiences as being just a regular mon, so that narrative role hasn't totally disappeared.

As he did appear as someone with nothing special about him whatsoever in the story before, I kept expecting him to have his memory wiped by someone, but instead it seems you're going for memories repressed through purely natural means (trauma and actively not wanting to remember)? I mean, I think I can buy it, but the line conveying it (Perhaps he’d forget it all happened. Maybe he never had a father.) just feels really quick and almost like a handwave. Then again, it's been very long since I read the chapters where Jerry would say things about his past, so I can't even remember if he really acted like none of it had happened or if it was something more vague.

Lastly, I can't believe Nevren has finally been dethroned as Hands of Creation Character I'd Most Like to Run Over With A Steamroller.

Anyway, fantastic Special Episode as always - I expected wham, and wham I got. I hope that it won't take as long for me to continue this time, but apologies in advance in case that ends up happening anyway.

 

[windskull]

Hey Namo, this is the first of your triple prize review. This review is going to cover the act 3 opening, and then 86-90. Individual chapter thoughts first, and then thoughts of this chunk overall.


Act 3

He could have wandered off to do whatever he wanted while he took care of annihilating the world. Was moping around really necessary? Dark Matter rumbled irritably, turning his attention toward the Goodra that refused to leave.

Lmao buddy I don’t know what you expected. This is Anam you’re talking about. Though I suppose in some ways it does make sense. As a being of pure darkness that can’t really understand pure good, of course he’d be thrown off by someone who refuses to give up on him being good.

He contracted his shell like a child hiding deeper under the covers.

I legit love the imagery here. The idea of comparing DM to a child, which comes up throughout the scene. It gives the idea that he’s either like a stubborn child with too much power, or that he doesn’t have as much power as he’d like everyone to believe and he’s trying to make himself look stronger than he is.

It was a wonder how long the floor would exist before he fell into despair like everyone else.

This particular sentence felt a little bit clunky and hard to parse. To be fair, it makes sense in context, but I still had to stop and reread it, and then the paragraph as a whole a couple of times to get it to click.

“E-every time I think I understand you, I learn a little more, Mister Matter.”

He hated when Anam laughed. Why couldn’t he laugh?

Again, I really love this dynamic of “pure being of pureness meets literal embodiment of all things negative.” And just, Anam being so unwilling to give up on DM while DM just cannot understand why. The last sentence in particular has me excited to see how act 3 pans out and looking forward to seeing more Dark Matter interactions, in particular with Anam or any other generally positive individuals.

Really though, the big thing I get out of the act 3 opener is that I love the dynamic between Anam and DM. On one side, you have this cheerful guy that refuses to let go of hope and refuses to give up on this eldrich being of pure negativity. On the other, you have said negative being that just. He embodies everything bad. He can feel all of Anams hesitations, but at the same time, Anam refuses to give into them, and he can't comprehend that. That lack of comprehension is what makes the dynamic so compelling. When he can't understand it, he behaves childishly. And not at all like what you would expect out of DM.


77

No, he didn’t even know what he was trying to find. Was he trying to run?

I need to finish my reread before I get into this in full but. You know, knowing what I know from being caught up… Even though I know Owen has been regaining memories in the voidlands, I can't help but wonder whether he's just acting on instinct, or if there really is something he forgot. If it was anyone but Owen, I would definitely say the latter.

Owen turned his head to the left, seeing plateaus and the lakeside. He turned his head to the right, seeing plateaus and the lakeside. He didn’t have to, nor wanted to, lift his head up to know that the same scenery—aside from the lakeside—could be seen ahead.

I appreciated this paragraph. In a way, it adds a bit of levity to the bleak situation without killing the mood entirely. It’s like. Yeah, it’s still horrifying that Owen is out here on his ow(e)n. But the way the prose is presented can give the reader just a few seconds to breathe. (Or it could instil a strong feeling of loneliness, I suppose, but I got some levity out of it.)

Moving on to the flashback scene, can I just say that I love the names the chars have for each other? They feel very nonhuman, which really sells the idea that they’re not human for me. It also, in a way, plays interestingly off of modern Kilo.

On a related note, I like that this returning memory is very intrinsically tied to what is going on with Owen right now. IIRC they get a bit more abstractly connected later, but it makes sense that one of the first memories to come back would be triggered like this.

He couldn’t get the sight out of his mind. How helpless and desperate Eon was to get him back… surrounded by his mutants—his children… his soldiers… for a war that he never asked to be part of.

That he never…

Something about that thought didn’t settle right with him, much like the water in his guts.

Now, it’s possible that I’m forgetting something and this has been implied more explicitly since, but...During my bacread to prepare for this review, I distinctly remember at least one other time the concept of Owen spearheading or being used ot spearhead a war came up. And at this point I’m almost certain it already happened. Whether it was the war related to the guardians that’s been brought up before or a another war entirely, possibly to do with the disappearance of the humans, I’m not sure. For all I know those two events are one in the same. Idk, just spitting out theories a bit here. But regardless, let it be known that I’m quite certain Owen was involved with leading a war.

The plateaus towered above him like angry parents after getting a notice from school.

Lmao what a simile. I love it.

He didn’t know where those thoughts came from, but they felt so distracted and there was also a rock not too far ahead.

I’m going off of the assumption that it was intentional that even the prose felt distracted here. Got a bit of a laugh out of it, and it makes sense considering the followup makes it feel like Owen was falling back on a more primal/feral thought process.

Something primal was telling him that dying was dangerous.

I know life has been really wild for you Owen but yes. People generally die if they are killed.

The winged wraith lunged at Owen again, screeching. Owen dove to the right and swiped at it with sharp claws—probably all he had to work with, as far as he knew—and stepped back to gain some extra distance. The wraith screeched again and blew a gust of wind toward Owen, forcing the Charmander off his feet. He yelped and hit the ground in a rolling stop.

I cannot at all remember why, but for some reason I have this paragraph annotated with, “will random wraith that attacked owen ever get its chance in smash?” and I just felt that was wild enough to share.

Moving on, with Owen’s affinity for grass I suppose it makes sense that he’d find a grass z-crystal first.

It was at least at half its usual size. If he didn’t find water, or at least food, soon, he’d be dragging himself through the dust.

Glad Owen’s health in this sort of environment isn’t just glazed over and that he actually stops to recognize that he’s not doing great.

You know, while this chapter was relatively quiet, it and at first might feel a little slow, it does establish quite a bit in a relatively short period. Owen gets a flashback, we get a general idea of how rough survival in the Voidlands can be (at least for now, more to be established later), we get our first look at a titan, and we get our first z-crystal. And then we end on the bombshell of Owen finding his mom, who - outside of briefly being seen right before act 3 started - has been MIA for… what, about 15-20 chapters? Of course her suffering is far from over. Poor Amia ;n;


78

First off, kudos to not leaving that bombshell of a scene hanging and at least resolving the basics before moving on to how Kilo is faring. Second, there's something very sad and sobering about Amia trying to comfort Owen when she's obviously in a significantly worse condition. We see something somewhat similar with Madeline and Anam in SE 5, but it’s different at the same time.

Amia didn’t recognize it.

Hm... Not sure how I feel about this tbh. On one hand, it definitely doesn't feel like something that needs dwelling on. But at the same time I kind of wish you had shown her reaction, whether something as simple as a shake of her head or a soft no.

What drew him to her, then? Owen had his doubts it was something sentimental. It felt too tangible.

What did draw him to her? I'm trying to remember if it's addressed later and I don't think it is? I guess we'll find out later.

Didn’t really have much to say about the Har section but…

He wasn’t afraid of losing them. Getting distracted simply wasn’t good right now. Later. He’d tell them later.

Keep telling yourself that, buddy.

Most of them had been from the training area; without a means to heal, intense sparring matches suddenly became lethal. And then there were injuries from nearby villages in the outskirts, outsourced to Kilo now that their basic berries were of no use, and their natural healers were rendered exhausted.

Really says something about how reliant they've become on Anam's blessings. It seems like they train pretty hard because they can expect to be revived if something goes wrong. But if they don’t? Well, we’re seeing the fallout of that now, on TOP of everything else that’s going wrong.

He spotted a Blaziken maintaining the flames of a Blaze Kick to keep part of the street lit while they conversed with a few others.

I think it’s neat when we get to see mundane, utilitarian use of abilities like this.

“I think I drew you, once,” Angelo muttered. “Are you a rare subspecies of Joltik?”

Ah, that was a commission for Rim, right? Nice little callback.

The Torkoal—who might have been grown too large,

I think what you’re trying to get at here is that they think Willow made Elder too big? If so, there might be a better way to word this, since “might have been grown” tripped me up.

He’d ask for the hospital’s digital duo, but they didn’t have the current shift, and he wasn’t sure where they lived.

I don’t think I brought this up the first time we saw the digital duo a while back, but I like that it’s established that the hospital has digital specialists. And it makes a lot of sense, since I’d imagine silicon-based life would have different care needs than organic life.

“For us? It does not.” Nevren glanced back. “How is your dead family doing?”

Wow, fucking rude Nev. Bastard man.

As of current chapters, I feel like it's been a while since we checked in with Neven and Step. I’m looking forward to seeing them again sometime in the near future. And Valle for that matter. WHen I was rereading earlier chapters, I started to get the impression that there’s more going on with him than we the reader know.


79

Thankfully, Cent knew. What’s so special about that Cherrim, Mom?

I doubt I caught this my first time through, but I’m just now realizing why Rim came back as a cherrim. Or guessing at least. Lavender put “Rim” into the machine instead of “Espurr” and the machine autocompleted that to “cherrim” for the body. Whoops!

“Yes. As I said before, it’s not ideal, but it’s also the only way we could have fixed the issue with their slipping sanity now and then. If we notice a mutant has gone missing, we simply recover them.”

Ah yes, letting mutants run rampant and kill people is such a good solution to keep them from... running wild and killing people. Charming. Stay classy, Nevren.

“I care about them deeply,” Nevren replied. “Killing them would deliver them back to the Reincarnation Chamber. It seems that despite everything, that is still operational. Quite curious.”

Hm. Now that nevren mentions it, that is kind of curious. I don’t remember it losing power later. I guess it is kind of odd that it would still work if Eon is gone now. Were the backups really that good?

“You aren’t even going to argue against me leaving?” Step said.

“No, I believe you intended to come here on your own volition. I never requested you to follow.”

Don’t fall for it, Mom! Kana said. It’s reverse psychology! He wants to keep you here!

But wouldn’t keeping an eye on him be a good idea? After all, he’s a traitor. Ra hummed. And I—oh, Step, hold on.

You know, it really is difficult to read Nevren. He's so... nonchalant about almost everything.Makes it hard to to judge his character compared to others and compare how morally gray he is to other, more open characters. That’s one of the strengths of HoC I guess. But also lol fuck Nevren.

“Then you hoard just like Rhys. The only difference is you create your own mess rather than collect it.”

Do you need some ice for that burn, Nev? Step can help in the form of a frosty punch to the face. 8P

Elder is just the only Hunter without an Orb that can do it on his own.”

Hm…. I still don’t know why but I have a feeling there’s a reason ELder is the only enchanter. Aside from just years and years of practice.

Perhaps he had hallucinated it, but he knew, for just a whiff, he had smelled something savory. If he was lucky, that meant there were others nearby, perhaps some actual civilization!

Oh lmao knowing what’s coming…

Amia had said she’d found berries in the forest. He wasn’t about to go off to another village and defer to their advice or help. He was supposed to be more independent, after all. And for once, he wanted to save someone all on his own, not relying on the decisions that other people made. More rationally, he had his doubts that a wasteland like this would leave others with food to spare.

If he had found someone now, I wonder how different things would have been .

It reminded him of candy, those little, flaky wafers back home that he’d buy from Sugar ‘n Spice. They had once offered him one of their special menu items for being such a regular customer—Everything Nice, they called it.

Nice.

How was he could to carry back the berries when…

“Could” needs to be removed here. As a note in case it's fixed in some versions and just got missed in the one I’m reading from, this is being pulled from the ao3 version.

First, Kilo Mountain’s face and jagged rocks cast long shadows across the forest and fields, and then, as the sun rose higher, the light finally shined within the city, still named a village by tradition, within.

Either part of this sentence is missing, or the within at the end needs to be removed I think.

Occasionally, great arcs of light flew over the ski

Sky?

“I understand that there is a lot of chaos, but rest assured that the Thousand Hearts are well prepared for such catastrophes!” They were only partly prepared.

Thanks for the confidence, narration. (Even though it’s all too true.)

“He is currently combatting

Just one t in combating.

More of those odd, metallic wrists bands

*Wristbands

Rhys shook his head. It wasn’t much use at this point to theorize on what could be possible when they were still trying to regain lost ground. “Leave this room alone for now,” Rhys said. “This just gave me a thought: unregulated Orbs and other equipment might be in the hands of criminals.”

Hm, I don’t remember it doing so thus far (but I could be forgetting) but I don’t think this has come back thusfar, and I have a feeling it will.

Anyways. Rest in fucking pieces everyone, dungeons are reconnected to the hell dimension. Have fun!


80

it would’ve taken Owen only a few hundred seconds to get to the top of the mountain from here. Instead, they had to deal with kiloseconds.

Really stands in contrast with Owen thinking about minutes not that long ago.

She curled a vine around it, lifting it toward Demitri. It dripped thickly. “Hungry?”

Delicious

She wondered if another would attack. She was still a bit hungry.

Mispy pls.


I have no idea why I spent 5 minutes on this but you're welcome.

There had been one time, though, when she killed one and it simply dissolved into thin air. That was strange—and disappointing.

Hm… I wonder what the difference is. And that’s got me thinking. What happens to a void shadow when they die? Are they dead-dead? I can’t remember if that’s been established.

Besides, I don’t know if I want to experience falling again.”

Really? I never would have thought. Thought you’d enjoy skydiving. /s

“Whistling—like wind through a tunnel,” Demitri said. “Wait, didn’t Owen mention to us about that before? A cave that always had a loud whistling noise. He went with Nevren to train, and he told us about that weird dream, I think… That was from a reset ago.”

Oh man, that was a long time ago. Like. first 5 chapters I think?

There weren’t a lot off feral Pokémon

*of

Soon, they reached the exit, with just the little distorting waiting for them.

I’m having trouble parsing this sentence and have a feeling some words might have gotten mixed up/be in the wrong form. Specifically “with just the little distorting” is what makes it confusing.

Manny slid down a hill made of cotton candy.

Talk about tonal whiplash lmao.

“Oy, we tried ADAM’s place and that was messed up!

Oh man I reaaalllly want to see what ADAM’s orb is like.

“Way ahead of you,” Elbee said, and then blasted the slide in front of her with a Hydro Pump.

Manny barked in surprise, eyes wide. “WHAT? NO! Don’t—”

Ah, a classic gag that never gets old.

Verd, meanwhile, had landed back-first, and then rolled further down. The spikes on the Chesnaught’s shell carried a few of the gumdrops down with him, reinforcing his back with sticky goodness.

A beautiful mental image.

Gentle waves of nostalgia hit him, and briefly, Manny felt like a Riolu again. He remembered a gentle fire that warmed up his waterlogged body and the Oshawott that so cheerfully doused him anyway, asking for a fight. He had been angry at the time, livid, even, and had his arm not been broken, he probably would have given her that fight. But now it just made him want to go for another sparring match with her.

I look forward to the day that all Manny’s stuff gets resolved, because like. He’s received way too much focus, seems too important to Star’s past to not come up more later. Maybe after we get more details as to what happened to Star.

Swear, it was like Gahi already had it and just fergot,” Manny remarked.

He totally did, I’m calling it. In all honesty, I’m half-expecting him to be the reason why Manny has the accent.

Pink dust surrounded Manny in moments, as well as all the others on his team of refugee spirits. His back felt heavier, and a new set of limbs—wide and flat and with great resistance when he tried to move them. He didn’t want to look, because he knew exactly what had just happened.

I want to draw this someday when I have more time. I can’t believe this of all things was loosely teased at 40 chapters ago. On a related note. Azu’s reaction is wonderful tbh.

Eventually, be opened his eyes

*he

Just like that new Dungeon within Hot Spot. The first dungeon to form in centuries… Why now?

You know, I know this isn’t solely Nevren’s fault, but I’m blaming Nevren.

Anyways, this chapter was a rollercoaster. From the tense atmosphere of the first scene, to the absolutely bonkers scene in Willow’s orb, then resolving on a more neutral note. It’s great. Possibly my favorite chapter out of this section that I’m reviewing today.


81

She never realized how thin he was beneath all that fur

Don’t worry, he’s just a fluffy boi.

Joking aside, is this a case of just being mostly fluff or is he like, actually weak/malnourished? I feel like there’s a case for either.

Her scar was starting to itch again.

Call me paranoid, but I feel like there’s a reason that her scar is itching. I could be forgetting something and maybe this has since been addressed and I just don’t remember buuuut the point stands.

Oh, brush off your eggshell.

Lmao I like this idiom.

Hm… I wonder what this powder is made of. My first thought goes do concentrated, dehydrated and ground up oran, but IDK how feasible that actually would be. Candied orange is a thing so… maybe?

Taking a trip to the nearby town meant navigating hills and paths often trotted.

At least they walked those paths though, which I would think means they’d be better kept than this. (Or at least, that they used to be.)

Those were all hazy memories at this point. Vague visions of getting lost in a Dungeon crossed her mind; she remembered an intense, dark feeling, and her mother staring at her in fear. Everything was dark. And then what? Those Dungeons were always cursed; if Spice could credit anything to their insufferable leader, it’d be fixing those.

Still looking forward to unpacking all that. It feels like we’re just missing one or two pieces before the puzzle becomes clear. There are some possibilities floating in my head, but they’re just not quite put together yet.

“Something wrong?” Leo taunted with a wry smile. “Look at that, a big, strong Salazzle scared of grass.”

Love the playfulness these two have here. I love that this scene in giveral gives us a moment to breathe while at the same time trickling in new information.

As far as they were concerned, it was just a thunderstorm without rain.

For reasons I can’t quite piece together, this feels rather poetic.

A few more, and it was in eighths, the soft insides spilling juice out. It, too, was a bit… red. Unorthodox. But it was the same as everything else here.

In hindsight this whole scene just radiates a combination of 8( and horror energy.

“I’m feeling better… You’re tired.”

I… get the feeling Amia is lying about feeling better and just putting on a brave face so as to not stress Owen out further. But maybe not?

On a lighter note, Owen’s biological dad is adorable.

He almost called to her, but then figured she wouldn’t appreciate being woken up like that.

Why do you hurt me like this?

I’d probably faint too if I was in Owen’s position.

She had to be in a graceful position, he had to get them crossed, why didn’t it work for her, why couldn’t she just—

Do you enjoy my suffering? All of this is so much worse knowing what happens to Amia later…

A horrible thought crossed Owen’s mind, and that’s when he decided to leave.

Part of me really likes that this is left to the imagination. There’s a lot more dread that way. Personally, my brain decided to land on “Owen is a hungry boi.” Which. Yeah, I’d nope out of there too.

I think ending my review on this dour note is a good idea. Because it more or less ends this initial mini arc of Owen waking up, struggling to survive, finding some fragment of what he cares about, only to have it ripped away. And it’s… it’s sad. It’s a rough section. But there’s enough levity included in the chapters to keep it from feeling completely hopeless. Yes, bad stuff happens. A lot of bad stuff happens. But - perhaps outside of the last chapter - it never feels completely hopeless. I want to do the next chunk of five before I say anything on the pacing, so I’ll hold off on discussing that for now.

Overall, I don’t have any significant complaints about this set of chapters. There were a couple bits of prose that felt a little clunky, but I noted those already. Nothing really feels out of place, and the only thing that I might have an issue with, the pacing, is mostly just a result of there being so much going on that you have to bounce around a lot to move the separate parts of the plot on. Again, don’t want to say any more until I get through the next chunk to remind myself of how the next few chapters go.

Anyways, as always, there are fun little bits that one catches on the second readthrough. And I’m sure I’ll see more as I read on. So hopefully it wont be long before I tackle the chunk of chapters. Until then though, happy writing!

 

[Namohysip]

During the chapter (or Episode, technically) I had some trouble telling apart Jeremy and Jerry in narration, especially here at the start, but I don't really know how to avoid that without changing the name entirely. Jeremiah instead of Jeremy? It's a bit more different. Would also fit his pride to make everyone say a name that long, maybe.

Ah, yeah, sorry about that. It's a bit of a setting point for the old southern tradition of naming your son after the father (Jerry, Angelo, Alex) but I can see how that's confusing.

god and i thought prayers unheard couldnt get any more depressing

Yeah! This Special Episode is a bit of a gut punch with that side-shot in mind!

Is the dropped capital here intentional?

No, there are a few typos I'm not happy about here.

It could also be that the sun's close enough to the zenith at noon to make a hole appear like it has no shadows for most of the year and I just live way too high up on the planet to understand. Or the Basin doesn't just go straight down but has considerable slopes on its sides. I'm probably overthinking this all anyway.

Basin has a slope like a lot of craters, and the zenith isn't always present, but it's enough that from their angle, there doesn't appear to be many shadows.

That combined with his unnatural all-slime body just makes him seem so alien and unpredictable, even when the reader already knows this friendliness and goodwill is all real and Anam really doesn't have a mean bone in his body (pun not intended). It'd scare any monarch, overconfident or not.

Yeah, this whole SE actually changed the opinionsd of some of my beta readers over how Anam was depicted as much more sinister. Because, in the end, Anam did take over the world, imperialism style, and this is from the perspective of Jerry -- on the side who lost.

I mean, I think I can buy it, but the line conveying it (Perhaps he’d forget it all happened. Maybe he never had a father.) just feels really quick and almost like a handwave. Then again, it's been very long since I read the chapters where Jerry would say things about his past, so I can't even remember if he really acted like none of it had happened or if it was something more vague.

Ah, that offhand remark actually wasn't meant to be implying that he outright forgot. Jerry never forgot; it's just so far in his past that it wasn't relevant and, in fact, he wouldn't want to mention something like that in Heart territory. Or, he feels he shouldn't.

I legit love the imagery here. The idea of comparing DM to a child, which comes up throughout the scene. It gives the idea that he’s either like a stubborn child with too much power, or that he doesn’t have as much power as he’d like everyone to believe and he’s trying to make himself look stronger than he is.

DM definitely has an interesting characterization here. Not a single-minded hatred toward all life, but perhaps muddled from exposure to Anam, among other things, leading to a conflict. Perhaps envy?

But regardless, let it be known that I’m quite certain Owen was involved with leading a war.

Interesting theory! I don't think that one is super common.

I think what you’re trying to get at here is that they think Willow made Elder too big? If so, there might be a better way to word this, since “might have been grown” tripped me up.

Ah, this is my fault. Torkoal are canonically quite small. Elder is nearly Rhys' height, basically twice the size of a normal Torkoal, similar to how Emily is twice the size of a normal Lugia. And he's always been that way.

Hm… I wonder what the difference is. And that’s got me thinking. What happens to a void shadow when they die? Are they dead-dead? I can’t remember if that’s been established.

I think it's implied here and there, but a Void Shadow dying basically 'respawns' them elsewhere in the Voidlands, and they just go through that cycle. Every time you die, a chunk of 'you' is sealed, until all that's left is a Void Shadow. After that, though, there's nothing left to take, so it just repeats.

Part of me really likes that this is left to the imagination. There’s a lot more dread that way. Personally, my brain decided to land on “Owen is a hungry boi.” Which. Yeah, I’d nope out of there too.

I decided it would have been too on-the-nose to say it outright, but the natural conclusion would be that, yeah. And Owen had to draw the line there and flee.

Nothing really feels out of place, and the only thing that I might have an issue with, the pacing, is mostly just a result of there being so much going on that you have to bounce around a lot to move the separate parts of the plot on.

I'm still not happy with the pacing of early Act III. I think it could have been faster, even by a chapter or so. But I'm glad it seemed "understandably slow" at least!

Thanks to you both for reading, and I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves!

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 112 – From a Flower​

One last Hydro Pump for good measure, and Zena was certain that she’d warded Dark Matter away. With an angry huff and a defiant glare, she slithered only a little away from the tree that Owen had become to make sure the false Goodra was truly leaving town.

Zena searched the roots for any flowers that happened to be staring at her. Unfortunately, there were none, and instead she checked to make sure that everyone else was okay. Eon had been reduced to a puddle of pink slime, but his bubbling suggested he was alive.

She tried to help him up. “…And you’re okay?”

“Never better,” Eon groaned. At least, she thought it was a groan. She wasn’t even sure where his head was supposed to be. “Where did… Dark Matter go?”

“Away. I fought him off.”

“How?” Eon drew out the question, as if both exhausted and truly befuddled.

“I’m… not sure, but I think the tree that Owen became is giving off an… energy that weakens him. But not enough that we could actually beat him. Only fend him off.”

“That’s good, at least.” Eon bubbled some more. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Right there?” Zena asked, but she never received a reply. Frowning, the Milotic turned her attention back to the tree, which was unresponsive. She still had a weak sense of his presence. He was there, safe.

She closed her eyes, finally feeling relaxed enough to doze off herself. Or, perhaps, she’d been so tired fending Dark Matter off that there was little else she could do. A few others came by soon to check on things—first, Gahi, who said that Mhynt was no longer someone that they had to worry about. That was a relief. Had he defeated her? Maybe he was stronger than she’d given him credit.

“So, eh, you gonna stay here?” Gahi asked.

“Mm, I think I am. Someone needs to guard Owen, just in case.”

“Right, yeah… He ain’t answerin’, but I feel’m in there. Maybe he’s sleepin’.”

“That’s what I think. And what of Palkia? Or the other Legends?”

“He’s with Dialga. Keeping hidden.”

“Good. We actually have some calm for once.” Zena sighed. “Still, I’m nervous. Are you sure Mhynt is taken care of?”

“Pinned to the tree by her own blade.” Gahi brought his fists to his side proudly. “The Unown that took care o’ my body did it to ‘er. She’s done fer a while. Told me ‘mselves.”

“What’s ‘a while’ here?” Zena probed.

“Ehh…” Gahi rubbed his nose, turning around so nobody could see his face. “Couple o’ days.”

Zena glared. “What is a day here, Gahi?”

“A few sleeps, I dunno! Hey, wait!” Gahi whirled around and pointed skyward. “We c’n tell now! Bah! What’s a day, we got days now!”

“It looks like night to me.” Zena squinted at the shimmering leaves. They were bright on their own, but past them, the sea of stars was surrounded not by a black void, but a deep, deep blue. “Oh… oh, goodness, you’re right…”

“Heh. Told ya.” Gahi grinned again, flicking his tail a few times.

“The sky… it’s really becoming the sky.”

Apparently, word had spread. Pokémon were gathering around the tree’s perimeter, climbing rooftops, perching on the branches… Zena and Gahi made a point to ward off anybody who tried getting too close to the trunk itself, but nothing stopped them from staring skyward.

Some Pokémon were crying. Some seemed fearful, despite its distant, faraway familiarity. There were a few who wailed openly, like they’d simply remembered something they’d missed for so long. It was bizarre to see… but, Zena thought, she’d only been there for a moon at most. Would she have been the same, being trapped in the Voidlands for centuries… or longer?

Suddenly, another Pokémon cried out, pointing at the very edge of the swirling vortex of clouds. At first, Zena wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but everyone’s eyes were suddenly on that edge.

It occurred to Zena that they were staring at a golden glow that dissolved some of the gray clouds. Yes, that had to be… sunlight. Sunlight, of course!

Second after agonizing second, that golden glow became larger, and it was like the whole village had stopped. The streets were a sea of Pokémon, neighbors sitting on their rooftops side by side. In particular, several good Pokémon were helping the Grass and other plant-like Pokémon to the rooftops, where they felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in generations.

Now, Zena thought, perhaps she understood a small amount of what it all meant to them. That warmth… She never realized how much she’d missed it. All that time in caves, alone or in Hot Spot, she should have spent more time appreciating it.

“Oi!” Gahi shouted, waving someone down. Not long after, Demitri and Mispy arrived, along with Jerry and Enet, the latter riding on Mispy’s back. “Was wonderin’ where yeh went.”

“Got lost in the crowd,” Demitri said. “How’s Owen?”

Enet hopped off Demitri’s back and sniffed at the roots, looking concerned.

“He’s been quiet, but I don’t think he’s stressed,” Zena said. “Maybe he’s sleeping?”

“Aura seems calm enough fer that…” Gahi’s left antenna flicked.

Quietly, they accompanied Owen—whether he was conscious or not—as Null Village experienced daybreak for perhaps the first time.

<><><>​

Something about Kilo Village had become strange in the past few days. Usually, the Pokémon that lived there were some of the best of the best in their field, so there were going to be a few eccentrics among them. Typically, the civilians that lived there evened it out. But recently, he’d been seeing stranger and stranger things.

Next to Angelo was an Aggron, perfectly alive, perfectly aware, yet made completely of ice. He could see right through her, little clouds of something flowing within her body like sand on the shoreline. They were apparently spirits. How terrifying… They just allowed this? A soul-catcher living among them like some friendly demon? And yet now, she was a known and normal resident.

“Smeargle.”

Angelo yipped and straightened his back. Oh, gods, she noticed. “Y-yes, ma’am!”

“Is something bothering you?”

“No! I was just… um… passing the time.”

“You are the one Rhys spoke of. I am Step.”

Gods, her stare was intense. Maybe it was because they had no color. Or that she didn’t blink. Outside, in the middle of a walkway, with the sun glimmering on her brilliant body… It would be good inspiration for Druddigon Cube, at least.

“Um, I might be? I’m Angelo. I’m an artist. I—I know, not a very surprising profession, er, um…”

The Aggron’s unblinking, icy gaze didn’t let up.

Angelo tried to look smaller and smaller until someone poked him in the thigh. “Ah! O-oh, it’s you.”

“Gyeugh.” The strange wraith-like companion had an apple balanced on its… head, he assumed. Three of its eyes stared at him expectantly.

“Thank you.” After his first bite, he gave a nervous smile to the icy Aggron. “Um, and who are you? I’ve seen you take up the front lines with those… other Pokémon. That Porygon-Z, the Joltik with fairy wings, and that metal Machoke.”

“Mm. Guardians.” She looked down, finally closing her eyes. Angelo didn’t like that he could still see them through the translucent lids.

Nate’s wraith, whom Angelo had decided to call Shady, worriedly slid closer to him.

“I actually was sent to get you,” Step said. “We can use your help.”

“Oh. You don’t say.” Angelo’s shoulders sagged. “What for this time?”

Aggron regarded Angelo with a judgmental stare. “You do not have strength, but you have utility. We are making preparations for the assault on Hot Spot.”

“I—I’m not interested in fighting at the front, or getting involved in any of that,” Angelo replied immediately. “Sorry. I’m just an artist.”

“You will not be at the front. But you will come with me. Understood?”

It wasn’t ever his choice, was it?

“Y-yes, ma’am…”

Step showed him the way into parts of the Hearts HQ that he had once hoped to never see. The very back of Kilo Village, the administrative halls, the place with all the records and archives and offices… Trails of red paint were faded on the ground, and soft lavender walls against the tanned stone made for a soft, lighthearted atmosphere.

It only sickened him further. It reminded him of Anam, how horribly intimidating he was, how Angelo never learned what happened to his grandfather, how his father had worked himself to death for him…

And now he was walking the same halls. Funny, that.

The atmosphere was different without Anam, though. The goo-covered books had been cleaned up to a more usable state, yet Angelo noticed to his horror that all the shavings had been piled up and kept in the corner of the office space, next to the stagnant pond in the back of the room. Some of the water had evaporated, leaving a few inches of darkened soil where it had once been filled. Or perhaps that was just the room left for when Anam sank his body into it. Disgusting…

“Angelo,” Rhys greeted, sitting behind the desk that was thankfully cleaner. “Thank you for coming all this way. We are currently strategizing our teams and arrangements for the Hot Spot assault.”

“Er, um, I’m not entirely aware of that. Any of it. I, that is, I’m just an artist. I don’t really do combat.”

Rhys’ brow furrowed. “You trained under Elite Heart Angelo, your father, did you not?”

“I did, y-yes. I know his techniques, yes. But I don’t have his skill.”

Silence followed where Rhys only stared, and Angelo wondered if he was reading his aura, or his mind, or whatever this apparently-immortal Lucario was capable of.

“Sir,” Angelo added to try to break the silence, but it only piled on thicker.

“I see.” Rhys nodded. “Well… If that is the case, perhaps some training is in order to gauge how strong you are. You will not need to be in the front lines, no. But, perhaps as support, you will be very useful with the plethora of techniques you have. Angelo, you understand the talent there is behind being able to call upon so many different techniques at will, yes? Typically, Pokémon can only rapidly channel energy for a few attacks.”

“I—I know. I know, my aura has that property about it, but…”

“It’s known as Mew’s Blessing. And it’s particularly strong in you.”

“I know, I… Yes. Yes, I understand.” Angelo deflated. “I understand.”

The icy Aggron was glaring at him, but Rhys’ eyes softened. “What is holding you back from helping?” the Elite Lucario asked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

His immediate thought was how he could possibly and rightfully refuse this offer. How could he say, to an Elite Heart requesting help, that he simply did not want to? That he had tried to escape this sort of life by dedicating himself to the arts, to things that didn’t involve violence and bodily risk? That he didn’t want to work for the same organization that kept hidden so many little secrets?

And the secrets they held! Immortal demigods, seals of darkness, what was next? For all he knew, the wraith that followed him around—they called him Nate, or his ‘spirits,’ like he somehow had a name—was another secret they were keeping hidden.

But… it was also Rhys. He’d spent his life—several lives’ worth of years, then—keeping Kilo safe from mutants and whatever other shadow threats there were. And this was the greatest threat yet. No matter how scared he was… wasn’t he obligated to do this?

Why, then, did every cell in his body scream at him to back down?

“I… I suppose I am just…”

Scared. Lazy. Conflicted. Resentful. Tired.

“Unsure of… my specific purpose, if I will not be at the front. Which—which I’m not strong for, again, I want to emphasize…”

“Yes. I understand.” Rhys nodded, though his gaze had changed slightly. “You won’t need to battle head-on against Dark Matter. Support will do just fine. And to see what you can do, perhaps some training?”

Same question and it was even harder to refuse. Had he even refused the first time? He’d been so feeble. Always being pushed this way and that. That wraith was pressing against his leg again and he glanced down.

“Gygh.”

The wraith was right. Why was he listening to them so much? Was he going to be at his best? Maybe he should say no. Ask for better terms. They didn’t… have authority to compel him to this, did he? Would he have to run away as some kind of fugitive if that were the case? No, no, he couldn’t have that. That would take him even further from his art.

“Yes. Just to find out what I can do. I’m… not familiar with the battlefield anymore. I didn’t really intend to ever become familiar again. Not ever since my father… died.” Worked to death by the Hearts. Worked until he’d been estranged from his mate. Worked until that was all he knew. All because of his power. And then one day he died in the line of duty.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Rhys said gently, nodding, but he was still formal. He probably didn’t care. He just wanted an affirmative.

He hated it here. Anything to get out sooner. “When can I expect to go for training?” Angelo asked.

“Tomorrow,” Rhys said. “Why don’t we meet just before the sun’s apex?”

“Okay.” He straightened his posture. “Is that, erm, is that all?”

“Well, one more thing,” Rhys said. “Really, if you do need rest, it’s quite alright, Angelo. We understand that you are not one for battle.”

Why did that hurt so much? “No, no, it’s fine,” Angelo said quickly. “I—apex, sun. Tomorrow.” Hastily, he turned to leave. Rhys said something, sounded like a goodbye, but Angelo didn’t hear the details when he shut the door behind him and fast-walked toward home. His wraith barely kept up.

Angelo made it all the way to the central crossroads in silence before the wraith bumped into him again. “Ah!” He spun around, frowning. “What is it this time?” he asked, apologetic instantly afterward when he realized he’d been rude.

“Ggrss…”

“I’m fine, really,” Angelo said. “I’ve just been a little overwhelmed. I’m not a Heart, after all. In fact, I’d avoided it. I just want to draw the next chapter of Druddigon Cube and then maybe do a quick commission or two that’s on my backlog…”

“Hhrh?”

“What? Well, I suppose they’re two different kinds of art. One is a long-term project, but I do still like diversifying…”

“Rrrw.”

“No, it’s hardly overworking. I… Overworking is becoming a Heart. No matter how much art I do, I’ll never work that much.”

“Mmg.” The wraith bobbed and slid purposefully east.

“Er—wait! Where to?!” Angelo chased after him anyway. He ran past a few people—Spice and Leo were recognized faces. Spice was showing off her black Protect to the others, who seemed puzzled and fascinated by it. Further down the road, that Fairy Joltik was chasing down a tiny, terrified Manectric and Crobat with a frantic Porygon-Z just behind her. Perhaps trying to stop her.

But eventually, Shady led Angelo to the very edge of town, where there was a noticeable incline as the crater of Kilo Mountain transitioned into the wall that surrounded the whole settlement. Not as many Pokémon traveled here anymore. Mostly because of… that.

Looming over the crater was a five-headed leviathan. Each head was triangular and faceless, each one connecting to what almost resembled a blackened palm. This shadowy thing was supposedly the source of all the wraiths, and, while friendly, was still so massive that it curled around part of Kilo Mountain. Practically floated there.

And he had the most mundane name—Nate.

“Oh. You want me to… see your, er… leader?”

The five heads and many, many eyes that dotted its body seemed to be staring at him and only him. He was the only normal Pokémon in the area. Did this thing count as a Pokémon at all?

“Er… hello.”

Hello.

The voice rattled in his mind. He shuddered, trying to block it out. So loud, yet his ears did not hear the voice. It was sent directly to his mind. He heard countless voices accompanying the main one, all little whispers and murmurs. Many of them were in-step with the main voice, but several were saying accompanying, little thoughts. Different ways of saying hello. Some even sounded like feral growls.

“Did you… need me for something? Your friend here has been, uh, keeping me company during these… trying times… and…”

He didn’t even know which head to look at, or which set of eyes. This was all so bizarre.

I was worried about you.

“Oh. Um.” He wasn’t expecting such a fatherly tone there. Or motherly? He couldn’t tell. “Thanks, but… I’ll be fine.”

Are you sure?

“Yes! I am. I’m being a hero. Just like the comics I write. A-aha…”

One of the five heads seemed to be frowning at him, but that couldn’t be. It didn’t even have lips. Its face was a prism.

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m a little nervous, but—but can you blame me? The Hearts… I never wanted to be part of the Hearts. And look at me now!”

A few of the many eyes blinked sympathetically, while the leftmost head nodded slowly. It’s too bad that happened to you, he said. Why are you so nervous about the Hearts? They seem like good Pokémon.

“They are, of course they are, but it isn’t my line of work. My father and my grandfather both died while working with the Hearts, and I’m just not interested in that kind of job mortality.”

You come from a line of Smeargle?

Angelo nodded. “Bit of a family tradition to keep the species,” he said shamefully. “All to preserve Mew’s Blessing.”

The leviathan was silent, attentive. It was a little intimidating, actually. Why were they—it—he?—all staring…

“Ah, I’m sorry. Mew’s Blessing is what my father called it. Pokémon normally can only quickly conjure a few techniques at once, and anything else takes some time to channel. And while Pokémon can change which ones they can quickly do… well, I simply don’t have that limitation. But I, well, I never practiced it. Not like my father, or his father.”

You’re that Smeargle Angelo…

“Er, no, I, well… My father is the famous one. And my grandfather before him, except he… er… well, one day word about him just stopped. He died in the line of duty. The manner of his death was… a mystery. N-now, I’m not one for conspiracies, so I do not think the Hearts killed them—”

They didn’t.

“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Angelo said. “It must have simply been part of a top secret mission, or—I’m sorry, you said that with such certainty. Do you know what happened?”

Nate stared.

“If it’s… classified, I understand…” He didn’t understand how something like Nate could be privy to classified information, but he at least understood the concept of secrets.

You should stay away from this Dark Matter fight, Nate said. Otherwise, you’ll follow where your grandfather went.

“I, er, I’m sorry, I’m not very religious. Where exactly has he gone?”

…Didn’t Arceus visit recently?

“Right. I used to not be very religious.” Angelo sighed. “But where did my grandfather… go?”

He went to Void Basin.

“Void… Basin. That’s where Spice’s team will be investigating soon.” Angelo grabbed his tail, toying with the brush-end nervously. “It’s supposedly restricted only for Hearts to enter and was dubbed inhospitable, so only outlaws would go there. But from afar, there doesn’t seem to be anyone there.”

There usually isn’t. It’s cursed. If you go too close, or stay for too long, a dark aura corrupts you. You become a… beast. And then you become something even less.

“M-my grandfather went there? Did he…?”

I’m sorry.

Everything else seemed to go dark. He heard his own breathing. His ears rang. Numbness spread through his mind, but not his body, or at least, he didn’t think it was. He wasn’t sure when, but Angelo eventually realized that he had been sitting down, collapsed, like his legs had stopped obeying his will to stand. Or did he want to stand?

Could Nate be lying?

It was such a feeble, defiant thought, that Nate was lying. But why would he lie?

Dumbly, Angelo accepted it as the truth. There was no reason for Nate to lie about this. All the conspiracies, how many were actually true?

“What a world…” Angelo’s voice was a whisper. Nate surely didn’t hear it. He couldn’t even find it in him to cry. It was all cold. He could have been there all afternoon.

Nate didn’t say anything. His many eyes stared, most of them looking somber. This leviathan was one of the few people who was so openly honest and caring. Why wouldn’t the Hearts tell him this? It would at least give him closure. But then again… if his grandfather had become a beast, what did that mean? Was he still wandering the world as one? Or ‘something less?’

Finally, Angelo scrounged up the energy to speak, this time loud enough for Nate to hear. “My father. He, he died the same way. I-is he a beast, too?”

No. Your father is fine.

His heart skipped a beat. A flickering ember of energy returned to his eyes. “He’s alive?”

Oh. No. He’s dead. I’m sorry.

“Oh.” Fire extinguished. “Dead, right. So that’s still true.”

I killed him. I’m sorry.

“Ha.”

He couldn’t stop it. The single, empty, dry, dead laugh, one that could have carried all the way across whatever aether his father had passed through. Had he heard that right? A thousand images flashes in his mind as he envisioned what that could mean. Vaporized by one of the leviathan’s blasts? Crushed by any single part of its body? Or just eaten outright?

“So you did. Ha ha… you… murdered my father… then? Ha ha…” He was dreaming, certainly. All of this was one great, surreal nightmare. His father, killed by the town’s evil-eyed savior.

Overwhelmed tears begged for release but Angelo refused. He didn’t know why. Shame, perhaps. What little shame he had left.

I had to. Nate seemed to fidget. He was going to the basin because he thought he saw his father. He would have become another victim. I tried to stop him, but he was already half-gone. I had to take him away.

He tried to keep a level head. This monster killed his father, because he’d investigated the Basin. But his death was classified in the same way, only it hurt more because Angelo was closer to him. Maybe the Hearts were keeping an eye on him because he might die the same way. If Nate killed his father, then he could easily kill him the same way.

Following the wraith was a mistake.

“I—I need to go,” Angelo said. Finally his legs obeyed, and he stood.

Okay. I’m sorry, again.

“Is he—you said he was fine. What does that mean? How can you be fine if you’re dead?”

The Void Basin is worse.

“What does that mean?” Angelo blew at the flames of his will, making some little spark to keep talking. He wanted to yell, but it only came across as a trembling whimper. “How do you become… less than a beast? What… is that?”

Three of the five heads seemed to clench their jaws, or what might have been jaws. The many eyes of the thing were avoiding his. Angelo tried to get an answer from the wraith, but of course it said nothing, and in fact seemed to be sliding away.

Maybe this was why the Hearts never told him. The truth was worse. Now he knew that his father was killed by this… thing, and—his grandfather was worse than dead. “I—I need to go.”

I’m sorry…

“Enough, just… enough.” Angelo couldn’t believe he was walking away. Even harder to believe was that Nate let him. Maybe he was good. But this was too much. He didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe when he woke up, it would make more sense. Maybe at least some of this would make sense…

What was wrong with just staying home to forget the world?

<><><>​

Warm, cozy, soft darkness surrounded Owen from all sides. He couldn’t breathe, but he felt that he didn’t need to. Everything had a lingering, sweet taste. He couldn’t see, but for some reason that did not set off his instincts. Everything else felt too safe. Against his back was some kind of membrane, and all around him felt cramped, forcing him to curl up tight. But he didn’t really mind. Everything was peaceful and hazy.

Slowly, memories returned to him. Null Village. The attack on Hot Spot. And, further back, his time as a Guardian, and before, a Heart. A mutant. And then… there was a strange blackness that he knew was an absence, but he could not yet fill it. A long, long darkness followed, before his memories of Orre, then Almia, then Kanto, the lab, his parents…

It was just one gap. His once spotty, confusing memory only had one true gap remaining. And while it was the largest void yet, it was also singular, and parts of it were already filling in. His time with Legends. His time during Kilo’s beginning.

Quartz Island became Kilo after a great calamity had destroyed it.

Kanto still existed. His home still existed. He did not know why, but that feeling was so strong within him. He knew it to be true.

Was that what Eon had been fighting for all this time? To return home?

Was it still the same Kanto…? How much time had passed? How much was kept hidden away by a Divine Decree?

So cozy… Owen felt himself drifting off again. He let it happen. After everything he’d gone through, he didn’t mind it. He felt he wouldn’t mind if that was all he did for the rest of his life. A good rest in cozy darkness as all his thoughts drifted away.

Though… he did worry about the others. They were probably waiting for him. A lot of people were.

No, he couldn’t rest. Not forever. Owen had a sinking feeling that the world wouldn’t carry on without him, and that burden… He didn’t think anybody should ever be put in that situation. Yet there he was.

More time passed. He wasn’t sure how long it had been. Minutes? Hours? Days? His legs twitched.

Legs. Right, he used to have legs. After all this time, it occurred to him that his limbs had returned. He tried to open his eyes, but nothing greeted his vision. So, he closed them again and drifted…

<><><>​

Most of his vision was green and he was weightless. He drifted forward and pressed his tiny, tiny paw against a smooth surface. On the opposite side he saw a star-shaped figure staring back at him. It had a huge head compared to the rest of its small body, with three points going left, right, and up.

“Hey, Owen. Do you remember me?”

Owen stared dumbly. That name sounded familiar. He didn’t understand the words, though. Or, he did, but it was fleeting. He liked this person, though, whoever he was. So he smiled a little, and the floating star on the other side beamed.

“I’m so glad… I thought I’d lost you. Don’t worry. You’ll be out of there soon, and we can talk all about it.”

His voice was really muffled. Owen smiled again and pressed his forehead against the glass, but a weak force pulled him away. The star-shaped creature laughed.

A deeper voice called from the opposite side. “Jirachi. How is he?”

“He remembers me, Xerneas!”

“…He does? That’s a surprise. The way I brought him back… his brain shouldn’t hold any memories at all. I told you this.”

“Turns out you’re wrong, and we don’t need any Psychics to fix it at all!”

“Well, good, because I didn’t get any.” Xerneas snorted. “We’re trying to keep this covert. I’m telling you, this is a big risk…”

“Don’t go calling Yveltal now,” Jirachi growled.

“Please. She would never, even if I told her what happened. You know how she is.”

The rest of their conversation faded away…

<><><>​

Another sleep, another memory, and another round of floating in nothing. Except this time was different. That felt like a new memory from the last gap. And Owen knew what he was floating in this time. That was Eon’s Reincarnation Machine… An early version. One that couldn’t preserve memories? Right, because it made an entirely new body and that was all. Only by tapping into the spirit could old memories of old lives be reawakened. That was what was happening to him, now, wasn’t it?

Why was it made? Owen couldn’t remember.

It wasn’t total darkness anymore. And it felt warmer, too. Like sunlight, but that couldn’t be why. It felt like it was above him, though, and he heard dull chatter of other Pokémon. He tried to listen in…

“I’m gonna touch it.”

“No, don’t touch it! What if it’s important?!”

“I’m gonna do it!”

“Hey!” This third voice was coming from far below. It sounded like Zena. “What are you doing?”

“Gah! See? Let’s get outta here!”

Two pairs of wings flapped and faded away. About a minute later, just as Owen was getting more comfortable, a much larger set of wings landed on something next to him, and Owen’s whole world shook.

“Huh.”

Jerry?

“It’s a fruit!” Jerry called to someone.

“A fruit? On the tree?” Zena called back.

What were they talking about? After so much quiet, Owen was intensely curious. He tried to move.

“Guh! It’s moving!”

“Moving? How do you mean?”

“I mean it’s—”

Everything shook, and suddenly Owen wanted to scream, but couldn’t. He was falling from somewhere high up. Lights flickered around him through an opaque wall, and then a dark shadow loomed over him. An intense, sharp pressure wrapped around him and his fall slowed. Jerry, muttering a few more curses, continued the descent until Owen felt he was on solid ground again.

“What an odd fruit. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

By now, Owen knew what had happened, and he wondered if he could undo it to avoid the humiliation. No, it was probably too late.

“I sense Owen’s aura inside,” Zena said hopefully. “Owen? Are you… in there?”

Now, he had two choices. He could either pretend to be dead and avoid this. Or he could be honest and try to move.

“Owen?”

Why me? Reluctantly, he wiggled and pressed against the outside of the fruit that had become some kind of egg.

“Owen, wiggle twice if you hear us.”

It was muffled, so he wondered if he should wiggle once and a half, but he complied.

“Let’s get him to the others,” Zena said, and then Owen felt the pressure of her ribbons around him.

Complicated feelings filled his head. He liked that. But he also didn’t.

<><><>​

Demitri and Mispy sat in the same room as Dialga and Palkia, in one of the large evaluation buildings, mostly out of standard procedure than anything at this point. Dialga was reading a book; Palkia was studying the mechanisms of the refrigerator. There wasn’t a lot for them to do while everyone gathered their bearings and figured out how to restore Owen, and they’d decided to take a break hanging out with some Legends that Owen apparently once knew.

“Dialga,” Palkia said, “who do you suppose is more flexible between the two of us?”

Zena knocked on their door. “We found Owen!”

“Owen?!” Mispy jolted upright. Demitri stood on his feet.

“…Let’s revisit that topic later,” Dialga said. “Come in!”

The door opened; Zena entered first, followed by Jerry and another Milotic. Dialga assumed it was Eon. That was odd. Usually, he was a Charmander. Perhaps whatever Zena did was so striking that he’d taken on her form next.

Demitri ran over; Mispy followed behind. She was at a loss for words. Owen became a tree, so did they find a way to turn him back to normal?

But then Zena held what looked like some kind of black-and-white lump. It reminded her of those really expensive berries that were apparently hard to find, let alone grow. Enigma Berries? They were too spicy for her, but she imagined Owen would like them.

But then it moved, like the outer skin was soft, and something was stirring inside. Mispy gasped and focused her aura sense.

Clear as day, it was Owen, curled up, tiny, but alive. He seemed to be listening to them. Something about his aura was different, though. Weaker, but stable, and a tinge of… There was a color to it that she couldn’t place. Golden?

The others were conversing and debating what to do. “He’s alive,” Mispy said, pointing a vine. “Let him out.”

“H-he is? Are you sure?” Zena asked. “I’m… a bit worried it’s an egg.”

Mispy hummed. That was true, but the aura inside was already solid and ready. Eggs usually needed time before they were ready to hatch, but this was the aura of someone either about to hatch or already hatched.

“It’s fine,” Mispy confirmed.

“Well, Owen? Did you hear that? Try to, er, break out on your own…”

The aura inside was hesitating, but it didn’t seem distressed. In fact, it seemed cozy. It was a lazy feeling. Mispy, frowning in disapproval, balled up one of her vines and readied to thrash the thing. That’d wake him up. But before she could, Zena gave her an icy glare. “If he doesn’t want to come out, he doesn’t have to.”

“He’s being lazy.”

The aura spiked, like it’d been caught trying to steal from storage at night.

“Lazy, what do you mean, lazy?” Zena frowned, then looked at the black-white fruit. “Owen wouldn’t stay in there if he knew we needed him.”

But before Mispy could press the issue, Owen shifted around in the fruit and seemed to sigh, or some equivalent while inside. He stretched and prodded at the edges of the container, finally making a puncture.

“Ah!” Zena set the fruit down.

“Do we, uh, do we help?” Demitri asked.

The inside was green, and out came a dark, green arm to match. It tore open, spilling fruit juice all over, and revealing Owen, with olive-colored feathers on his front and fussy, leafy ones everywhere else. The end of his tail transitioned into an autumn-colored leaf to match the season of Kilo—assuming it was still autumn—and it resembled a flame.

The Grassmander hacked and coughed even more of that green fluid, taking deep, raspy breaths before coughing even more. Dialga watched with disgust; Palkia had to be warded off by Eon and Zena so he didn’t poke and prod Owen for study.

“Owen?” Mispy asked, leaning forward. “…You hatched?”

“Don’t call it that.” Owen wheezed, and then another round of coughing kept him from saying anything more.

“We should get him washed up,” Demitri said. “And maybe a blanket so he stays warm?”

Owen was already trembling. Mispy wondered if that was an odd feeling for him—as a Fire, he probably rarely got cold. But now, not so much.

Now that Mispy thought about it, Owen was much smaller, perhaps only a foot in height. She had to admit—internally, never externally—that it was a little cute.

They helped Owen to one of the strange water-dispensing facilities. They made sure to set the water to warm so they didn’t shock him into the heat. Zena took the liberty of using her ribbons to wipe off most of the fruit, which was starting to get sticky in some places, while Eon and Demitri helped clean the mess left on the floor. Jerry, meanwhile, departed to find Trina, Gahi, and Enet, who had gone on a stroll through town.

“Owen, are you feeling okay?” Zena asked. Mispy wondered that, too. There was a distant look in Owen’s eyes. Definitely thinking about something. Mispy had shades of that in his aura before, but now it was very strong. What was going on in his head? It seemed to be a deep conflict…

Did he remember something?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, but his tone was off. “Actually, when I’m… feeling better, or, back to normal or close to it, is it alright if you take me somewhere?”

Mispy didn’t like where this was going.

“Of course,” Zena said. “Where?”

“West of town.”

“Why?” Mispy asked before Zena could agree.

Owen looked at Mispy pleadingly, but she didn’t soften her glare.

“You trust me, right?” Owen said. “So, when I say why… it’s just my reasoning.”

Definitely wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“Go on,” Mispy said cautiously.

“I want to see Dark Matter.”

 

[Flyg0n]

Time to talk about chapters 5&6 mainly, and a little bit of 4!

The plot in the beginning is very fast paced for starters, but honestly I like it. The fact that so many weird mysteries emerge in the first 2-3 chapters means I think I'd find it annoying to wait for a unch of chapters just to like. Touch that orb.

So as far as pacing from1-6 I appreciate the lightning quick speed of it.

Your prose is very simple and very straightforward. Very little in the way of flowery or purple stuff but it suits the way you're telling the story, since I pick up a lot of this anime-vibe storytelling. Very clear, succint writing.

I'm obviously bias but I love Gahi a lot, and the whole little squad of four. I hope nothing bad happens to them.

Owen is adorable, Anam was sus even before I read chapter 6, and Rhys... well I also have douts about it.

The 'fight' against Nevren in chapter 4 was really creepy, in a suitable way. A good use of the 'it was just a dream/vision' trope that feels proper in context and very meaningful to the narrative. Everyone, literally everyone around Owen is so suspect. I actually can't put together allll the details despite my blacklight knowledge so I'm still finding this a fun mystery to unravel.

“Ha, it’s like we get the same lectures!” Owen said. “I wonder if my parents and Rhys went to the same classes.”

“Feh, wouldn’t doubt it.”

See if I didn't know you I would overlook this line but knowing you their parents really did go to the same classes. SUS!

The Thousand Hearts!”

Thousand hands? Okay like this chant is said as this big rally but thanks to blacklight I'm pretty suspicious of the thousands arms/hands whatevers now. HM. I wonder if this is all partially tied to Arceus somehow?

Losing all sense of self, Owen hopped from foot to foot, pumping his tiny fist in the air.

aawww he's adorable.

“They’re made from Rawst leaves, so they are flame-resistant.”

Way to convenient. Owen used to live here or Rhys planned for him to come here. Or some weird combo of both.

A small one—an Espurr.

This immediately makes me think of Espurr from PSMD. Maybe coincidence maybe not.

There was a strange stash of Pecha Berries under the desk.

Knowing you this is also significant somehow. A connection Anam maybe?

The final item gave Owen pause. “Huh. Didn’t peg Rhys as a Mew sort of person,” he mumbled under his breath. “Seemed more like the Arceus type.”

Huh! So there's mutiple religions? Arceism and Mewism? I wonder what religion looks like for Kilo or a world where legendaries are probably way more real, presumably?

Aerodactyl, muttering something about Solar Beams.

okay this is the second time this aerodactyl was mentioned, is it the criminal? Do they mind wipe criminals and force them to work? Or maybe this is just community service. Or a random aerodactyl but...

The rest of Team Alloy will forget him again. He will train and meditate, and… things will remain as they have always been.”

Huh. So Owen keeps meeting them and they keep making hm forget? They must also make everyone else around him forget too, right? Nevren sure seems strong enough too. But jeez that sucks. But I have a feeling 'that sucks' is a common theme here, lol.

“Oh? You can blast them repeatedly? What drawback does that give you, hmm? Perhaps it takes up too much energy.”

Snorlax fired again, this time directly at the glowing eyes, but they disappeared a split second before the blast could connect. He sniffed the air, trying to find the Alakazam’s scent, but the smoke made that too difficult. He opened his mouth again, but then Nevren reappeared right in front of Snorlax, tapping a single, glowing finger to his forehead.

What an anime moment, heh.

“Nice to meet you in spirit, Owen,” the Mew said, smiling wryly. “How’s life?”

Hah! I knew it was Mew's voice. Also there's something disgustingly and pnnishly ironic about Mew greeting him with 'How's Life' considering Mew is the embodiment of life.

Anyways overall I only have good things to say anyway. Can't wait to see where this will all go!

 

[Namohysip]

Once again thanks for the review, Tetra! Glad that you're enjoying yourself and I'm excited to see how you react to the incoming events!

And next up, chapter 113...

Chapter 113 – Nostalgia​

Owen stood under the shower with a resolute look in his eyes, staring at Zena and the others despite being many times smaller than them. He’d been given a lot of time to think and ponder about everything that he’d recalled, being inert for so long. That didn’t even include the portions still missing, that final gap to fill. The parts that he still needed time to think through. To make sense of it all.

And despite everything, he believed that the first person he could ask was the very one who’d sent him to the Voidlands. His only obstacle was convincing everyone else of the same thing.

“I’m sorry,” Zena said, “I don’t think I heard you properly over all the water.”

“Dark Matter,” Owen repeated himself. “I know where he is. He told me. I think we should talk to him.”

“Are you…” Zena blinked.

She towered over him and Owen tried not to get intimidated by that. As she spoke, Owen focused on getting the juice out from under his leafy feathers. He missed scales.

“Owen, I mean this with… the most respect possible—are you—have you been deprived of air in that fruit?”

“No. I had a lot of time to think. And I remembered a lot about my past and how I got here.”

“What’s that mean?” Demitri asked, coming in with an armful of towels, all heavy with the fruit juices left behind. He left with a batch of fresh ones for more cleaning, but listened with Mispy.

“Kanto,” Owen said. “None of you know what it is, but it’s a region in the human world.”

“Human world… So it’s real?”

“It’s real. And I was born there… And so was my trainer, Eon. You know all about that, right?”

“I do,” Zena said darkly. “But… the past is the past, isn’t it? Eon isn’t—”

“I know.” The tiny Charmander held up his hands disarmingly. “I… I know. I’m—I don’t want to think about that right now. I want to think about everything else.”

That seemed to be enough for Zena, who didn’t reply.

Owen started on his explanation, stopping several times to go more in-depth about his time as Tim’s partner. Near the middle of his explanation, he’d attracted the attention of Dialga and Palkia—mostly Palkia—and later still, Enet, Eon, and Jerry had all been gathered up to talk.

Apparently, during his absence, Mhynt had left town after some Cipher City guards came to escort her back. There was a chance she would return. Owen didn’t pay it any mind; they had to tackle one thing at a time.

The explanation continued, from Kanto to Almia to Orre, and finally—and this got everyone’s attention—the results of their mission, and then the aftermath, if it could be called that. From rescuing Star, to her massive power and the strange corruption that drove her mad, to the lights in the sky, and finally to waking up to Tim as a Mew.

“And you simply didn’t remember?” Zena asked. “How could that be?”

“That’s where I woke up.” Owen ignored their disappointed looks. He felt the same. “That’s where I think I still need to remember. I think… there is still a block there. Made by Dark Matter, maybe. Or by…”

“Wait, but how can we trust Dark Matter for this?” Demitri pointed out. “He’s… literally called Dark Matter. He’s just evil, right? Are we seriously going to take his word for anything he says?”

“I’m not going to,” Owen replied. “But… He’s doing this for a reason. If he wanted to take me, he would have by now, but he didn’t.”

Zena bit her lip. “Owen, this is starting to sound familiar,” she said. “Didn’t you do the same thing with Rim, back when you didn’t have all of your memories then, too? That was a huge risk. I know that you knew, deep in your heart, that Rim wouldn’t have hurt you… and you were right… but this is different. This is Dark Matter. The one who… who caused all of this, Owen.”

She had a point. And it gave Owen pause. Could she be right? Maybe he’d been getting ahead of himself. Dark Matter had made an offer, but he could have also just as easily been waiting for the right moment to take him away, or claim him, or whatever else Dark Matter was capable of.

“We’ll guard you,” Mispy said, nodding. “It’ll be different.”

“Dark Matter doesn’t care about you guys,” Owen quickly interjected. “That means he might…”

Mispy looked skeptically at him. “He won’t go… against you?” she questioned, stumbling over the sentence a few times.

“What, like, you mean if he doesn’t wanna mess with Owen, he won’t mess with us?”

“I think he messed with us enough already,” Zena murmured.

“No, Zena’s right.” Owen rubbed under his arms, thoughtful, but satisfied now that it didn’t feel heavy and thick. “Dark Matter could try to force me to get on his side by holding any of you hostage. He can do it with just one touch.”

“But you can free them just as easily,” Eon said, standing near the back as an equally tiny Grassmander.

“Right. I have that. And that’s probably also why he can’t touch me. Even if he killed me, I’d just wind up somewhere else. And now that I’m so… this”—He gestured to himself—“I don’t think I would care if I died. I don’t have any power left to lose.”

Zena and the others looked suddenly uncomfortable.

“What?”

“Don’t treat your life like it doesn’t matter,” Zena said gently.

“What? No, I meant—”

“I think it’s just how you phrased it,” Demitri said, just as gently, and Owen felt patronized.

Sighing, he tried to move on. “What—whatever. Look, I can’t go and be touching all of you at once.” Zena was blushing. “There needs to be some other way to protect against Dark Matter if you guys want to guard me. Maybe we should take some time to think about that. Anam’s… Anam talks to Dark Matter a lot, right? Is he still here?”

“He’s around.” Gahi shrugged.

“Tell him that I want to talk in a few days. We can think of some precautions then.”

“Will Dark Matter even want to wait?” Zena hummed.

“If he doesn’t, then we didn’t have much to bargain with anyway,” Owen added, arms crossed as he stared at his belly. “So maybe we can use this to figure out just how badly he wants to talk to me. If he’s willing to wait.”

“That’s… calculated,” Zena commented, looking at the others. “Should we do that?”

“Hmm…” Mispy slid toward Owen and looking him over. She was huge—Owen could use her vines like a house at this size. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I am.” Owen nodded firmly.

“Okay.” Mispy brought a vine forward. “What’s your plan?”

“Uh—Now?” Owen tried to look tough, puffing out his chest. Mispy went lower and poked his gut and all the air left him.

“By the way… why are we all gathered in the shower with Owen?” Eon asked nervously from the back. “Isn’t that kind of… weird?”

“…What’s weird about it?” Zena asked.

Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi also gave Eon an odd look. Enet, meanwhile, crawled forward and joined Owen to investigate the warm water.

“Ah… um… never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Owen assumed it was a lingering human thing. But that bought him some time to think and respond to Mispy.

“If I can find a way to spread some of my power to you guys, that might give some protection against Dark Matter’s corruption.”

“So that’s what you’re going to experiment with?” Demitri asked. “And what if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’ll find a place where we can talk to Dark Matter and fend him off if things go badly. Have Anam there, too.” Owen turned so the water went down his back, the last of the grime. Zena leaned forward and offered to help, and Owen nodded gratefully. “Do you think that’ll work?”

“I hope so,” Zena said. “How long can we get Dark Matter to wait?”

“We’ll have to see,” Owen said. “Someone find Anam and ask him to do that. I’m going to finish washing up and then… figure out if I can get bigger, or something.”

“Was gonna say.” Gahi squatted down to get closer to his height. “Yer adorable.”

“You’re smaller than I am,” Trina commented. The Snivy was balanced atop Gahi’s head. “And if you want my opinion, I think you should prepare for Dark Matter to refuse outright. I don’t see the point in trying to work with him after all he’s done. Do you really think what he has to say is worth listening to?”

“I do,” Owen said. “Even if he twists the truth, he still knows what the truth is. If only I could evolve…”

“Perceive?” Mispy asked.

Owen nodded.

“Assuming Dark Matter follows the same biology,” Zena pointed out. “He might not react the same way as a normal Pokémon would.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Gahi said, making a gesture like he was about to pick Owen up, but Owen growled back and spat a single volley of Bullet Seeds at his chest. They bounced off harmlessly. “Feisty li’l guy.” Gahi smirked.

Owen had the vague sense that this was revenge for something.

“Well! I suppose if that’s everything in order,” commented Palkia from outside the hall, “I wish you the best. Where will you be staying now?”

“Oh, actually, while you were away,” Demitri said, “we were looking around for homes. We found a spot nearby, but it’s, uh… well, it’s new housing. It’s kind of awkward because Hakk and Xypher are also there…”

“What? Why?”

“Their home got destroyed,” Trina explained.

“How? When was this? Weren’t we just there?”

Gahi was avoiding everyone’s stares.

Owen deadpanned, “He blew it up somehow, didn’t he?”

“Ain’t my fault! It was that stupid Treecko who sliced it in half!”

Owen squinted.

“We have a lot to catch up on,” Trina said, “but I think we should keep you protected for now. Hakk tried to take you to her, possibly under orders ever since he… grew in size.”

Owen’s interest doubled. “Grew?” He ignored Gahi’s amused look. “I—whatever. Explain on the way.”

At least, for once, it felt like they had a moment to breathe. Soon, Owen was finished washing up and bid farewell to Palkia and Dialga—who themselves were still recovering—and followed the rest of his team out of the evaluation buildings and down the road. Behind him, the strange tree and the morning sky lit up Null Village. His eyes lingered on the tree, smiling a little, and then he faced forward.

“Some real handiwork y’did there,” Gahi commented to Owen, following his gaze.

“Yeah.” Owen rubbed his wrists, still unaccustomed to the green feathers. “Just a little trick I came up with. Maybe it’ll be useful later.”

He already had a small backup plan in case all else failed.

<><><>​

Owen hadn’t expected the home to be a communal one.

At the edge of town, where the trees were visible a little further away on the northern side of Null Village, there was a large, purple-brown building. The entrance was wide and doorless, leading into a hallway that split off into several separated rooms. Demitri rummaged through his bag and pulled out a little, glowing card with a blue portion at the end that shimmered. He led them down the hall and to one of the rooms.

The door slid open after he flashed it against some device next to it, revealing a bare rectangle of a room with a gray interior and only the most basic of furniture. Body-universal beanbags were piled up in the corner with a few set out in the middle of the room with an adjustable-height table in the center. On the table was a basket of odd fruit and empty plates. To the right was a fridge, and further back looked to be a Null Village kitchen. There was another doorway to the left that was still open that led to a washroom, as well as another room in the corner that seemed to be for storage.

“That’s all, huh?” Owen wasn’t sure what he expected. “Guess it’s not that different from the other facility I was kept in before.”

“If we want a proper house,” Demitri said, “we’re going to need to save up some money to buy one, and that might take a while. We might not even need one, if we’re going to be leaving soon… We’re leaving soon, right? With what Nevren’s trying to do?”

“Maybe…” Mispy looked down. “Mm…”

“Save up,” Owen repeated. “What jobs have you taken up?”

“Mispy’s a guard on the eastern perimeter,” Demitri explained. “Most of her work is making sure Void Shadows don’t get too close. She might get transferred to the northern perimeter so it’s closer to home, though. She also wants to apply for healing and the medical field. She’s already healed a few people who got eye damage from staring at the sun—they forgot they weren’t supposed to do that. Can’t blame them, if they’ve been sunless for so long…”

“Sounds like a real walk to get there every day. But you definitely should try for healing,” Owen agreed, then glanced at Zena. “How about you?”

“I, er, work at a bathhouse,” Zena said awkwardly. “I suppose it’s not very surprising. Though, I could do without the remarks…”

“Remarks?” Owen asked, feathers puffing slightly. He wasn’t sure why.

“Mm. I suppose a radiant-looking Milotic draws some… attention.”

“You can’t just fight them to keep them from staring?” Owen asked, which earned a surprised look from Zena.

“Well, no. I don’t think I should settle things by fighting.”

That concept was still foreign to Owen.

“She’s not a battleheart like us, Owen,” Demitri chided. “Most aren’t.”

Battleheart. Right. Owen was still trying to sort out his memories. Back when he was Tim’s Charizard, settling things with a little fight seemed like the natural thing to do. Was he the same after Tim became a—

“Hey, by the way,” Owen said, “where does Eon live?”

“Next door.”

Owen nodded. Something to do later. “Right, okay. And your job, Demitri?”

“I help with construction,” Demitri said. “They saw my strength and decided I’d be the best fit there.”

“That means Gahi probably goes with scouting teams,” Owen concluded.

“Hey, how’d yeh know?”

“You’re fast and can teleport.”

“Huh, yeah. Makes sense.” Gahi nodded. “And you, eh… well. Yer kinda small. Maybe you c’n take on an administrative job…”

A beat of silence. Then, Mispy thought about something, then giggled.

Owen’s feathers puffed out. “What’s funny?”

“Tiny desk,” Mispy replied.

More silence. Then, Demitri tried to look away, shuddering to suppress his giggles. Owen’s feathers were even puffier.

“You know, getting jobs and all that… Are they just in demand?” Owen tried to change the subject.

Thankfully, Demitri was quick to follow. “Yeah. Though, you’ve been asleep for a few days, I think. So, we had some time to try to, you know, settle in. Anam’s been around and we know that Dark Matter is in the outskirts, so we’ve been avoiding him, and everything is… really tense because of it. He obviously wants you. But he can’t get close thanks to that tree.”

“Right.” But why would Dark Matter want him? Not something any of them would know, though. “A few days… Anything from Mi—I mean, Nevren?”

“No, nothing.” Demitri sighed. “I think maybe he ran out of energy, or he’s finding a way to build up more. The last time he tried to contact us, the portal was a lot smaller, and he mentioned something about mobilizing for Hot Spot. But we’re trying to coordinate that, and, well…”

“Fighting from both sides?” Owen figured it would be similar to when they had tried to fight Star when she’d possessed him. But if that was the case, they would need to find the Core, wouldn’t they? Or was Dark Matter himself its Core?

“What was the holdup?” Owen asked.

“No contact from Kilo, and us having no idea what we can do against him from here.”

Gahi, as they were talking, wandered around the house, opening and closing empty cupboards. Nobody paid it any mind.

“A standstill… More stagnation. Everyone waiting for the other one to make a move…” Owen trailed off, autumn tail flicking behind him.

“Owen?” Zena asked. “That sounded… more thoughtful. Is something on your mind?”

“…I don’t want to sound self-centered,” Owen began, “but it sounds like any time I’m being reset or paused or incapacitated… the whole world just stops with me. Everyone’s… waiting again. Waiting for someone else to make the next move. Dark Matter wants to see me, so he’s waiting until that can happen. Maybe he’s impatient and maybe he’ll do something else, but there he is again, waiting. And before, the whole Hunter thing with Tim…”

“Um. Tim? I don’t recall a Tim.” Zena tilted her head. “Owen, are you okay? You’ve been acting… different lately.”

“D-different?” Owen puffed up his back feathers in alarm. “I’m not that different.”

“…You… are Owen, right?” Demitri asked nervously.

“Of course he’s Owen,” Mispy growled back, gesturing to her own eyes.

“Oh, right. But you said he looked a little different…”

“Still Owen. Just… less of Owen… I think…”

“I’m right here, you know,” Owen huffed. “Look, I’ve had a lot on my mind! And I’m, like, a foot tall! Of course there’s less of me! Give me a break!”

A squeaking rumble followed; Owen’s gut felt like it had tightened and loosened. He tried to look even smaller.

“Someone’s hungry,” Demitri commented.

“Mm. Me,” Mispy agreed, sliding to the cupboard in search of something and directing Gahi to fiddle around somewhere else.

“I suppose lunch would be good…” Zena nodded at Owen. “Oh, and I think we can find a space for you to rest here, too, Owen. The rooms are all occupied, but I think nobody would mind sharing.”

“Who’s all roomed together?”

“Jerry’s with Eon,” Zena explained.

Not yet. Owen wasn’t ready for Eon yet.

“Gahi and Trina are sharing a room, too.”

That was possible…

“Demitri and Mispy, too, of course.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to get in the way of that.

“And myself and Enet.”

Everyone was paired up nicely. “Will I be sharing a bed with anyone?” Owen asked.

“We might be able to find one. Considering you’re so small, it won’t be that hard.”

Right, small again. Still annoyed him. “…How about with you, then? We could sleep together.”

A beat of silence first, and then Zena sputtered, “I’m—I’m sorry?”

“You probably have the biggest room, and I probably take the least space aside from Trina, so we can probably sleep together.”

Zena was breathing a little faster. “Y-yes, I heard—I thought. Owen, are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Owen grinned, trying to get some of his pep back.

“…Wow,” Mispy said, sounding impressed.

“B-but did you not want to just be friends? Or, well, starting off, or starting over, that, as you said…”

“What do you mean?” Owen asked, cocking his head. “We don’t have beds yet, so I can sleep with you. It’s not like it’s the first time we slept together. You remember the position, right?”

Gahi tripped over his feet. Demitri stared in slack-jawed awe.

Owen led the way and asked, “So, which one’s your room? That’s fine, right?”

“I… y-yes! I’m sorry, I was—Perhaps it’s some culture shock.” She glanced at Mispy and Demitri, who got back to their senses next.

“Position?” Demitri asked Zena.

“I think he means how I can leave some room in the middle if I coil properly,” she explained. “It’s an alcove, in a way. A bed within a bed? Th-that’s what you mean, yes, Owen?”

Only mostly, but Owen was glad it helped everyone relax. Everything was so tense that he could afford feigning some obliviousness again to help them forget about Dark Matter. “Mhm. In that way I’m not taking up any extra bedspace at all. It’s not uncomfortable, right?”

“Not at all!” Zena said a little too quickly.

Owen grinned. So, she was still interested. “Yeah,” he said. “And… I wouldn’t mind the company anyway. I’ve…” Owen trailed off, then shook his head. “We can talk more at night.”

Enet was already pawing at the door and barking at Owen to come along. She understood. As much as Owen tried to give them some pep, he was still exhausted. Everything still felt hazy. Maybe tomorrow, Owen thought, he’d feel a little more put-together.

Something wet knocked on their door.

“That must be Anam,” Demitri said. “He might have talked with Dark Matter.”

“It might also be Dark Matter himself,” Owen cautioned.

“No,” Mispy said after opening her eyes.

A Goodra stood on the opposite side of the door with green eyes and a tired smile. “Hey,” he said. “Oh! Owen! You’re, um… a Charmander again! Kind of.”

“Yeah, kind of,” Owen replied politely. He noticed that Anam didn’t go for his usual hugging attempts. “Did you talk to Dark Matter?”

“Um… I did, but, um, well, he said… one day. You have one day. On the sunset after this one.”

Demitri fidgeted nervously. Gahi, meanwhile, growled. “Well, so much for valuing you,” he said. “What’s gonna happen if we don’t show?”

“He’ll go forward with his plan,” Anam said.

“Which is…?” Owen tried to get a read on Anam’s expression, but all he could see was evasive nervousness.

“Probably something bad. He’s been gathering strong spirits lately. You know, ones that died in Kilo. And the mutants…”

“Then we’ll need to use that day to prepare. Tomorrow, I’ll try to come up with something. I have a few ideas, but… er, I’m… also tired. Really tired.”

“Sleep!” Enet commanded, and then growled at the door again.

“Enet, you need to use that password-card,” Zena called. “It’s in your… Where did you put it?”

The Zoroark stared at Zena dumbly.

“The rectangle. This one?” Zena produced her own from her bag, with the glowing portion on one end of the card.

“Oh.” Enet dug through her mane and pulled it out. She pressed it on the door again, eventually figuring out how to activate it. She slipped in and the door closed behind her.

<><><>​

After a short tour of the building in case Owen needed something from any nearby facilities, he finally felt tired enough to return to their room. He ultimately decided to go with Enet and Zena after all, and went in with the latter once everyone else was informed. Eon, in particular, looked bothered, but Owen didn’t acknowledge it. Still not ready.

Enet’s bed was in the far corner, a simple circular mattress-like beanbag. On the other end was a long, thin mat that seemed to have the subtle, circular indent of Zena having coiled in it for a few nights. Owen smiled a little; it was good that they had a place to sleep in the Voidlands. A place to feel safe.

Just as Owen stepped inside, though, he saw something in the corner nearest to the entrance—a large, glass tank with a Void Shadow inside. Owen stopped immediately. Everything else went dark in Owen’s attention.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I nearly forgot. We also, er, have… Amia… here. She was the least hostile toward me, and quieted down when I was around, so… well…”

The Void Shadow seemed to be staring at Owen.

“How come she’s here?” Owen asked in a whisper. “I thought they were working on a way to help her in the evaluation building.”

“Er… Well. They tried, but there wasn’t…” Zena trailed off.

Then… that was it. Amia was just like that now. Owen stared at the Void Shadow more, walking toward it. It inched closer to the glass separating them.

That was Amia. The one who cared for him for hundreds of years. Who dedicated so much of her time to someone she once never knew. In some small way, Owen thought he would have seen her in his memories of the distant past… yet she wasn’t there. Probably never even born yet.

“Owen, don’t—”

“KRRKH!”

It smashed into the wall and snarled at Owen; the tiny Charmander flinched, unable to suppress a gasp. When Owen stepped away, it stopped attacking, but still stared at him, docile again.

“It… still gets violent up close,” Zena said. “I mean—she. But compared to everyone else, that’s the closest people have been able to get…”

“…She’s just… mad that she can only stay in there,” Owen rationalized. “She wasn’t like that before, when it was only for a little while.” Owen smiled desperately. “I’d be pretty mad, too, if I was stuck in there…”

“Owen…”

“I-it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll figure something out for that, too. Marshadow mentioned something about Gone Pebbles that can help recover memories. Maybe I can do something about this later. A-after Dark Matter, I can fix Mom, too.” The words poured from him thoughtlessly.

And then, silence. The Void Shadow slid around its cage. Zena and Enet went into their respective beds awkwardly. And, finally, Owen followed them, climbing onto Zena and then somewhere in her middle.

“Are you sure you don’t want another room?” Zena asked gently. “If… Amia is too much, I—”

“When I fix her,” Owen said, “I want her to remember that I stayed.”

“Ah…” Zena’s eyes glistened, and then she nodded. “Of course, Owen. That’s… very strong of you.”

Enet stared at both of them, unblinking. The way her ears were positioned, she was listening in.

Owen deflated, feeling that he had a moment to himself. Despite how tired he was, he felt so restless. There was so much to do and so much to prepare for and he was still lying in bed, waiting for sleep to take him. And he ran from that, too. He couldn’t relax. Every so often, he stole a glance at Amia, who was presumably staring at him.

There had to be some other way to rest. Thinking about Amia was getting to him. “…Zena?” Owen finally called. Enet’s ears twitched.

“Yes, Owen?”

“Sorry. Are you still awake?”

Zena’s breathing meant she was.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

“Me, too.”

Enet made a growl to agree.

Owen sighed. Talking to them was nice. And he hoped the rest of his team was doing alright, too.

“…Hey, Zena,” Owen began, “what about your parents, anyway?”

“Oh, mine?” Zena trailed off. “Well… they visit me in my Core every so often. I believe Hecto had ferried them. But the visits became less and less frequent. I suppose as time goes on, so do they… We weren’t particularly close. After all, I’d ‘left the nest,’ and, well… people move on. I did care for them, though.”

“That’s odd,” Owen said. “I mean, yeah, a lot of time passed, but they’re still your parents, right?”

Zena chuckled. “That’s true. But… like I said, we weren’t close. It was… formal, in a way. Cultures can be different in the ocean. Oh, I truly didn’t care for it. It’s very strange there, you know, compared to Kilo. Feral Pokémon are much more common, but integrated into society, to the point where you may see them doing civilian jobs.”

“Civilians, in the ocean?” Owen asked.

“Far below,” Zena confirmed. “I don’t know if it’s still around, really. Scattered villages floating in the ocean, usually offshore, or far in the depths. I was… well, it would be the equivalent to you of a richer family. I was expected to be graceful and proper. A Milotic. That’s simply how it is for us. Apparently, straying from that culture makes it so you cannot evolve… I do wonder why Star designed such a pretentious species.”

Owen winced. “That does sound cruel. You have to be graceful and proper to evolve? You can’t just get stronger?”

“Apparently not.” Zena sighed. “But once I evolved… I was so tired of it. I… regrettably, I left. I was strong enough to fend for myself. I knew how to survive on the surface, too. But I’d gotten turned around and lost my way. Perhaps by luck, I’d met Emily. We talked, and she tried to assure me that things were okay, but I don’t think she understands mortal life.”

“So that’s how you met, huh?” compared to everything else that Owen had seen, Zena’s life sounded… normal. By the stars, he would love something normal again. He wanted to hear more. “How did that go?”

“For a while, I lived with Emily,” Zena said. “She liked the company, and I needed a place to stay. Occasionally, I visited Kilo, and then returned to tell her about it. It was… peaceful. A routine. Apparently, most were quite fearful of Emily and generally fled from her…”

“How come you didn’t?” Owen asked.

Zena hummed, considering this. “I’m not sure. Maybe she was simply so isolated, she never had the opportunity to befriend someone until then. Until I happened upon her. She’s lived for so long… surely someone would eventually stay. Like Tanneth. Oh, Tanneth and I spoke quite a bit. They’re a lovely couple.”

Owen paused. “…Wait, Tanneth and Emily are a couple? That Vaporeon?”

“Mm. They’ve been together for longer than they can remember. Which led to the next problem… I was mortal, then. And I wasn’t really sure how I would be able to be with her for very long. I think I was… actually getting along in my age at some point. Swimming far distances from the island to Kilo were more and more difficult. In the end, I feared that my time with Emily was short… and Emily did not like that. She wanted to find a way for me to stay.”

“The… Water Orb,” Owen said slowly. “How did you get it?”

“Emily gave it to me. She said she was guarding it.”

“Guarding?” Owen asked.

“I think so…” Zena seemed unsure. “It’s… foggy. Perhaps you would have remembered it more clearly, if it’s behind a Decree. Emily had given me that Orb because she wanted me to survive.”

“I thought giving up an Orb killed you.”

“She didn’t have it ‘in’ her. Er, well, no. She did. But she didn’t… claim it. I’m not really sure how, but she had it within her without it fusing to her aura. Though, she’d always been a little strange…”

Maybe Owen could have a talk with Emily later about that. It was too strange to ignore. “Do you know why she had it?”

“Safekeeping, apparently. Part of how all the Orbs were scattered.” With another sigh, Zena settled back down. “That’s all I know about her. Eventually I had to flee when the Hunters tried to get me. Emily fended them off, but even with her durability, it was still unsafe. And when I found that Dungeon, Star helped me stay hidden. And… nothing changed until you met me. I don’t even know how long it had been. Centuries, surely…”

“Why didn’t Emily go find you?” Owen asked.

“It’s strange. It’s as if she’s bound to the ocean.” Zena adjusted her coils and Owen adjusted with her. “She never wanted to set foot on Kilo. I didn’t really press the issue.”

So that’s how it happened. He’d never thought to ask until now, so absorbed in his own worries and thoughts. Sure, between the whole new Guardianship, old mutant, and scattered memories, he had good reason to be occupied, but he felt a little bad that it had taken all this time just to… ask.

“Owen?” Zena asked. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Just occurred to me that I never bothered asking until now…”

“Well, I never shared, either.”

Enet growled curiously and pawed her way toward the pair.

“And how about you, Enet?” Owen asked. “Star helped you get the Electric Orb, but d’you have anything interesting on how that happened?”

She just stared blankly, then curled up again.

“Guess not.” Owen giggled, already feeling lighter.

“And what about you?” Zena asked. “Before… all this. Is there anything you wanted to talk about?”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Owen admitted. “And some of it I don’t remember yet.”

Zena nodded. “Well, that’s okay,” she said. “I liked talking a little about the past anyway. It was so long ago. And… Oh, never mind.”

“No, go on.”

“It’s silly.”

Owen waited patiently.

She sighed. “I enjoyed talking to you again. It’s been too long.”

“How come that was hard to admit?” Owen asked.

“I’m… not sure.”

Owen grinned, leaning against her again. “Well, so did I. I’m feeling a lot better. Maybe some normalcy is all I needed.”

“Mm, normalcy…” The Milotic rested her head against the top of her coils, glancing down at Owen further down. “Do you have any memories of… normalcy, like I do?”

“Mhm. That’s back when I was in Kanto. But the normal there is nothing like the normal here. It has humans, and Pokémon worked with them in weird ways compared to how things are in Kilo. Some humans can’t understand Pokémon, either. I mean, the Pokémon there.”

“Oh? Were humans feral?”

“Other way around.” Owen couldn’t imagine a feral human. “All Pokémon where I came from were what we’d call feral. I’m feral, actually—just like Enet. That’s why I can understand her, too; feral Pokémon speak a totally different language. It’s simpler, but it conveys ideas quickly. I don’t really know how it works… but sometimes, we can convey those same thoughts and ideas to humans that we share a strong bond with.”

“That’s so interesting—humans aren’t Pokémon, yet they can form bonds with them?”

“Pokémon and humans become stronger if they grow together. A lot stronger. My species, in Kanto, we usually don’t get strong enough to grow wings unless we bond with a human. It’s part of our culture to choose a human or… well, sometimes a human chooses us.”

Zena looked like she wanted to ask something, but had refrained. Her voice had caught in her breath and she nodded.

Owen frowned. “And my human was… Eon, yeah. Back then, his name was Tim.”

“R-right.” Zena nodded nervously. So, that really was what she was thinking.

“A lot can change. People change. I don’t think… the Tim I know is alive anymore. Eon is someone completely different, even if they have the same spirit. I… don’t know how I can confront him about that. I don’t know how to tell him that.”

“Because he still wants to be your partner,” Zena summarized. “He’s done so many horrible things just to be with you again. Rhys, Amia, Anam, they all kept you away from him because of what he had turned you into. You and the rest of Team Alloy.”

All the while, he nodded along. Owen still didn’t know what led Eon down this path—that gap in his memory was still there—but the simple fact was, Eon was not the same selfless ranger, that same young trainer, that he’d dedicated his life to.

Why did that hurt so much, now?

“It’s okay,” Zena said. “We don’t need to talk about that anymore.”

“H-huh?” Owen looked up. “What do you mean?”

“You looked uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, I…” Even without his flame, was he that easy to read? He needed to work on that. His enemies toyed with emotions; if he was so readily open about how he felt…’

But this was Zena. He could afford to be open around her.

“Y-yeah. I don’t want to talk about it right now, but thanks.”

“Is there anything else about Kanto you could tell me about instead?” Zena asked. “What about before… Tim?”

Owen considered that. The only thing before Tim was… “My parents.”

“O-oh.”

A fond smile followed from Owen. “It’s alright. I think I want to talk about them a little anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Zena asked, but Owen nodded anyway and pressed a little more against her.

“Yeah. My mother was a Charizard, and my father was a Marowak. Mom was with a trainer and she cared about her very much, but she died early—the trainer died, I mean.”

Zena listened quietly. There was a softness in her eyes that made Owen melt.

“She loved humans because of how wonderful her trainer was. Dad was more, y’know, skeptical, but he loved Mom, so he stayed with us. It was a tradition for… for us, for my species, to pair off with a human trainer so we could get our wings. After that, it was up to us what we’d do, but… That also meant it was my time to go, one day. When I was old enough, I’d pick a human, and… and leave them behind.”

Owen didn’t understand why that hurt to say. No, he did. He did. Because he once thought he’d return when he got his wings. That his time with the human would be brief, as most trainer journeys were, until…

But that didn’t happen. Now he was a world and ages away…

“Owen…”

“Huh?” Owen perked up. “S-something wrong?” He only realized just then how hard it was to talk and how much his eyes burned.

Suddenly, a bundle of fur enveloped him and Enet growled soothingly.

Owen groaned, smiling. “Not again…”

“We’re here for you, Owen. You’ll remember that?”

“I better,” Owen replied, exhaustion pressing over him in waves. “I’ve forgotten too much to start all over again.”

His eyes flitted closed in Enet’s warmth and Zena’s pressure. Enet growled again and said, “You’re small…”

Of course she’d focus on that.

“But… big.”

Owen opened an eye. “Huh…?”

Enet didn’t reply.

<><><>​

“So, that’s what happened? It was… Shadows?”

Owen stood atop Destiny Tower, bruised, battered, and covered with countless wounds. His left arm was broken in two places and his wings were unusable. His blood sullied the white tile. And despite this, he had made it, and floating nearby was Tim, the Mew. He had a few injuries, but had made it through just fine.

“Yes,” replied Arceus, across the palace’s central chambers. Next to him was another Mew, one who had a certain glow to her that Tim did not. This was the divine Mew, the original Mew, the progenitor, the start of common life. That meant Tim was a direct descendant of her, didn’t it? Perhaps that was why he had ascended Destiny Tower so easily.

But next to them both was a dragon of light and gold prisms. He had no pupils and his eyes were of flickering crystal, so it was impossible to tell where he was looking at any given time. The radiance of that one was overwhelming.

“Shadows were what brought our world to ruin?” Owen asked.

“I am afraid so,” the dragon of light said. “It was a horrible blight that had to be expelled… but in the process, so much was destroyed and lost. That included memories of the event. It is a truth that… the world does not need to know.”

“Why not?” Owen asked.

“It would only cause more panic,” the dragon said. “Mortals don’t need to worry about divine matters just as we shouldn’t have to worry about theirs.”

The divine Mew looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

“What can defeat these… Shadows if they come up again?

“Many things,” the dragon of light replied. “The will of the spirit alone is sometimes enough. The bonds one makes with others can help you climb out of even the deepest darkness… This is a very symbolic way of thinking, something abstract and metaphysical. But these Shadows are, by their very nature, beyond the material plane. They infest the spirit and the very foundations that make up this world.”

“I’m… not good at… symbolism,” the Charizard said. “I see things and those are real. I’m not good at figuring out the rest.”

The dragon of light smiled. “Day to day, that is not a difficult philosophy to follow. Yet… you’re curious, aren’t you? How to combat Shadows… in a way that you can see, and feel?”

“Um.” Tim held up a paw. “If we’re talking conceptually… if we want to get rid of a Shadow, or get rid of this darkness… don’t we just add light?”

The dragon looked down. His tail curled in a small circle. “You are correct. If a spirit cannot combat their shadows, or cannot overcome this dark aberration’s power…”

He held two of his four wings forward. Light coalesced between them, forming into a crystal with the symbol of a flame inside, which he handed to Owen. It was warm and smooth to the touch, and he briefly thought he heard voices coming from it.

“You must use light.”

<><><>​

“And that is what he said? Light? As if it is that simple…”

“…Well… isn’t it?” Owen tilted his head, adjusting his wings while standing in the great void. After all, you’re afraid of the light. I had that talk with him… a long, long time ago, but that kind of thing is hard to forget. Light gets rid of the dark.”

“That is a vast oversimplification of his true nature and you know it.”

Owen smiled wryly. “But it makes it pretty easy to remember.”

“Rrrgh…”

“Aw, c’mon, I’m just trying to make a joke!”

“I do not joke.”

“Well, it… was worth a try.” Owen sighed. “But that’s what he told me back when I first woke up. That’s all I really know about what it means to dispel Shadows. I don’t think he even knows you exist…”

“None of them do. They never have. I am a mistake of this reality. If they find out about me, they will try to… fix it.”

Owen’s wings drooped and his flame dimmed. “I know. It’s going to be alright.”

“It won’t. Your world is ending, after all.”

“…Is there a way to stop it?”

Aside from the low whistle of the void that seemed to echo through Owen’s very soul, all had gone quiet then, like the red core in front of Owen had fallen completely silent.

“There is one way.”

“Uh?”

“You are Necrozma’s disciple, correct?”

“Well, kind of… Not really. My mate, Mhynt—I mean, Lunala, she…”

The core of darkness said something, but the memory suddenly halted in its tracks, all sound abruptly ending. A stifling cold washed through Owen, and a bright light, inescapable, shined in front of him. The light of Necrozma—but he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Not yet, Owen. You can’t see this memory. He was only trying to mislead you.”

A dragon of light appeared, obscuring Owen’s vision. The memory paused and then rewound. It all faded away.

 

[Chibi Pika]

It would seem that plane trips are just the designated time when I read HoC. I actually read about half of these in January, and then the other half on a plane trip in May, and then some more during my trip last weekend. Let's see if I can try to get some coherent thoughts out.

91-93

Good to see the team slowly coming back together! I think part of what made the early Act III chapters a bit hard to get through at times was the way that we were forced to bounce around to so many individual struggles, and now there's finally the chance to unify some plot threads and get solid answers to things since the inhabitents of the Voidlands know a heck of a lot more about what's going on.

More solid trainerverse stuff in these chapters, you know I'm always a sucker for that. I'm enjoying the dynamic between Tim and Ayame, and it's of course making me wonder if she's involved in the main plot at all. We've got an awful lot of humans running around.

The scene with Owen and Zena discussing their old selves was nice, and it was good to see Zena get the chance to stick up for her old self. It's interesting because it's almost like we're getting a look at her without all that Guardian baggage, which is nice, but at the same time, it's not like she just wants to forget, even if that part of her was so damaged. It's also making me vibrate to keep from talking about the LC take on that subject.

The scene with both Owen and Tim blaming themselves for the Gym loss was cute, and Owen concluding that Tim just had to yell louder. :P And I just generally like the vibe of Ayame giving Tim another Pokemon because it wanted a human, but she didn't want another team member, so she decided to help it get a human another way. Pokemon attacking humans specifically to get a strong trainer, yes plz, all of that.

And now we've got a Team Rocket subplot and stolen Pokemon and damn--the Kanto part of this could be its own fic. Actually... there are like three fics worth of backstory overall. xD

94-96

The titan fight was nice and intense, and of course the reveal that the titans are Legendaries was cool. I can't remember if it was established who put the legends in the Voidlands--DM? Well, anyway, the threat of Voiding makes for nice stakes, and it successfully feels like a way worse outcome than death was back in Kilo. The moment where Owen reunited with Amia in particular was really tense.

I'll just be over here side-eyeing Eon for defaulting to being pleased that Owen might need to depend on him for support again. Buuuut he was at least willing to let Gahi fill that role because it was what Owen wanted. ...It's a start.

Hm, I doooo have to admit I'm not quite as interested in the politics of the Voidlands compared to like.... everything else (the struggle against DM, the memories, etc.) Especially since right now it basically just feels like Alexander... just wants to rule the place? Of course, I'm assuming there's more to it (and it's implied that he needs Necrozma's power for something) but as it stands, DM's goals and actions feel a lot more threatening.

It was interesting to see Zena feeling conflicted about not having known Owen for very long. Them deciding to start over was cute.

SE7

I always love the trope of characters imprisoned that can break out at any time. :P

I caaan't quite remember if it was explained why the Void Basin has shadow power coming from it (at least, in a way that feels different than just the way that unblessed dungeons do.) I also keep mixing up void basin with the chasm of the void. Which one was Nate from?

It's interesting that while there are some passing similarities to colonialism in this chapter, Pyrock got to keep their land, their leadership, basically everything except access to Void Basin? It really was just... Jeremy's pride that led to his downfall.

I've been noticing that the recent chapters use a lot more of a technique I've seen you use in Blacklight as well--using understated indirect references to things to magnify the impact. "She fell" in particular is such a chilling line that packs so much into just two words.

97-99

So there's been a lotta hints that something basically triggered the current plot right before the story started, since basically no one in Kilo knows half the backstory. Also, I'm not sure if I'm reading this correctly but... was it implied that the orbs have Necrozma's power, almost as if they were also Z-crystals? But like, I'm still pretty sure that they really are from Arceus (I mean. The whole Hands thing is pretty irrefutable.) But maybe they were imbued with light or something?

Interesting that it seems to be the case that Anam sealing the dungeons technically trapped the Voidland inhabitants? Although... I guess it's not like they could have gotten out so easily anyway--they'd have burned just like Mispy/Demitri, right?

Really enjoyed Owen's desperate training after the rest of his team got stolen, and his feelings of uselessness. Always a fan of seeing obscure old TMs coming up.

Really interesting to learn that Shadow Pokemon could beat legends. No wonder Emily was so unbeatable when she was Shadow. Which makes me wonder if DM was the one who erased knowledge of her or not. (Alsooo... was her stint as Dragon Guardian before or after the shadow war... or during?)

Interesting that Null Village has more human stuff than Kilo even though Kilo also has lots of human stuff thanks to Nevren. But Null just has more for some reason. (Also, Owen being baffled by apps and touchscreens was amusing.)

Good to see Owen sorting through the distinction between being used, and being openly called on for help. Others needing your skills/strength isn't always a bad thing!

It's great that while Owen is angsting about not really being part of Team Alloy, none of the other care at all that he's from somewhere else or that they were a trio before him. ("Teams get new members" thanks Gahi.) Actually, I legit really enjoyed the Alloy friendshipping we got in these chapters. I know that early on in Act I, it was a rough ride making them feel distinct and getting the reader to care about them, but I'd say you've pulled it off by now.

Gahi having Necrozma's birthmark is weird, yeah. I feel like someone would have mentioned by now if he was also a disciple of Necrozma? Or maybe not. Also, I'm just assuming that Eon lost energy from the Z move reaction since he's human.

"Ah, wait. Now I’m not real." This is the best portrayal of dream logic I've ever read.


...Anyway, I've read up to 106 but this is all for now because I need sleep lol.

 

[Namohysip]

Thanks for all the feedback, Chibi! Glad you're enjoying yourself! In response to some specific things you mentioned...

I think part of what made the early Act III chapters a bit hard to get through at times was the way that we were forced to bounce around to so many individual struggles

I agree, that's probably what happened. Ever since then, I've been trying to skip over or summarize/imply as many scenes as I could so I can get to the more interesting ones faster. It's a discipline I think I should have picked up way earlier.

I'm enjoying the dynamic between Tim and Ayame, and it's of course making me wonder if she's involved in the main plot at all.

This is one of those subtle things I mentioned earlier that probably got missed because I do this too often, but--the Dragon Guardian, the Salamence, is named Arame, and her partner is a Dragonite named Ire, though he has never been seen onscreen.

It's interesting because it's almost like we're getting a look at her without all that Guardian baggage, which is nice, but at the same time, it's not like she just wants to forget, even if that part of her was so damaged.

I'm glad that came across! Was definitely what I was going for.

And I just generally like the vibe of Ayame giving Tim another Pokemon because it wanted a human, but she didn't want another team member, so she decided to help it get a human another way. Pokemon attacking humans specifically to get a strong trainer, yes plz, all of that.

I had a feeling you'd vibe with the home realm Owen came from.

And now we've got a Team Rocket subplot and stolen Pokemon and damn--the Kanto part of this could be its own fic. Actually... there are like three fics worth of backstory overall. xD

Backstories upon backstories...

Hm, I doooo have to admit I'm not quite as interested in the politics of the Voidlands compared to like.... everything else (the struggle against DM, the memories, etc.) Especially since right now it basically just feels like Alexander... just wants to rule the place?

That's a good point, and something I'll take note of. Political scheming has sort of wormed its way into the plot a little, partly because at this point, Owen no longer has a lot of raw power. And he doesn't know how to get it back. Now, he and his team needs to work with leverage rather than raw strength to win, which makes for a different tone for Act III overall. I'm feeling out how I should operate on that, but I won't spoil whether or not it'll last. But it won't be the rest for sure; obviously, things will change.

I caaan't quite remember if it was explained why the Void Basin has shadow power coming from it (at least, in a way that feels different than just the way that unblessed dungeons do.) I also keep mixing up void basin with the chasm of the void. Which one was Nate from?

Void Basin (the barren land with nothing in it) has unknown reasons. It just "is" for some reason, at least for now. Obviously it'll be explained later, but for now, it's a landmark that's just Bad Place, Restricted Access. Even when Jeremy ruled, it was restricted for everyone except someone with Void's Blessing (aka they were Shadow-powered Pokemon--so, Jeremy and Jerry, the former of which had demonstrated a Shadow Blast strong enough to vaporize people offscreen, similar to Anam's blasts as demonstrated in mid-Act I)

Pyrock got to keep their land, their leadership, basically everything except access to Void Basin? It really was just... Jeremy's pride that led to his downfall.

Granted, it was implied that some intended-or-unintended social engineering was implanted via Anam providing for the south all those blessed items and benefits, but yeah, it was a very "peaceful" takeover compared to traditional colonialism/world empire tropes.

I've been noticing that the recent chapters use a lot more of a technique I've seen you use in Blacklight as well--using understated indirect references to things to magnify the impact. "She fell" in particular is such a chilling line that packs so much into just two words.

I'm glad! I've been trying to play to my strength of minimalist words, maximalist impact for a while. Hopefully I can continue improving~

Also, I'm not sure if I'm reading this correctly but... was it implied that the orbs have Necrozma's power, almost as if they were also Z-crystals? But like, I'm still pretty sure that they really are from Arceus (I mean. The whole Hands thing is pretty irrefutable.) But maybe they were imbued with light or something?

This is a matter of an unreliable narrator--the narrator/storyteller in that case being Star. She, too, was under the influence of history being erased, as she appeared to have no memory of Necrozma whatsoever. It was assumed that the Orbs were Arceus' scattered Plates, and maybe he made more or something. But that doesn't explain why the Orbs had a Normal one, if that's the case. Sure, Arceus could have made one... but their properties were still quite odd. People shrugged it off as Hands silliness, but in reality, it appears that these were actually pieces of Necrozma's power all along, and because Necrozma was erased from history, people's memories filled in the gaps with a different god.

Actually, I legit really enjoyed the Alloy friendshipping we got in these chapters. I know that early on in Act I, it was a rough ride making them feel distinct and getting the reader to care about them, but I'd say you've pulled it off by now.

Thank goodness! That was another focus I had, hoping to sprinkle those in when I can.

Gahi having Necrozma's birthmark is weird, yeah. I feel like someone would have mentioned by now if he was also a disciple of Necrozma?

So! This was mentioned... once, in passing, during the cooking competition in Act II. It's mentioned that Gahi had a similar birthmark splotch, but it was extremely faded.

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 114 – Despair Flame​

The most irritating sound had returned. Sloshing, wet footsteps. Dark Matter squeezed his own fists and spitefully changed his form to that of a Charizard; he needed some practice to intimidate Owen later anyway. His flame, however, was black.

“I’m so proud of you, Mister Matter,” Anam said.

“Go away.”

“No, I really am! Not only did you agree to wait, but you actually listened!”

“I have no choice. I cannot forcibly go within the perimeter of the new Tree of Life yet. I need more power. Any less and I am at risk of shattering.”

“Well, I don’t really know what the old Tree looked like. But I’m still glad! You could have threatened so many different things!”

Why was Anam bothering to feel so positive when Dark Matter could not feel any of it? Did Anam realize this? Or was he so hopelessly lost without his guidance that he now thought everyone was happy with him?

Anam sat next to Dark Matter, leaning forward to play with his slimy toes. “I like this new you.”

“There is nothing that changed about me.”

“I think something has! Compared to when we first met, you never would have done any of this. You would have been totally dedicated to destruction and suffering! Instead, you’re here looking for other ways to solve problems!”

“Enough…”

“In the past, just think back! You were beating me into the ground for hours and hours until you got tired of it! Now I can sit right next to you like buddies!”

“Will you… just stop?”

“A-and, well, and I really do think that if you put your all into it, and I was there to vouch for you, maybe we can work together after all! We can still make you happy! That’s why you’re doing all of this, right? Because he’ll—”

“ENOUGH, ANAM!” A shadowy fist slammed into the Goodra’s side, blowing a clean hole through him and spattering purple slime into the tree opposite to them. Anam was silenced, looking at Dark Matter, stunned, betrayed, and then he saw it. That very brief look of disappointment.

Why did that hurt so much?

Dark Matter pulled his hand away and stood up. He took a few paces away and slammed it into a tree next, disintegrating it into a fine ash. He then leaned against a nearby boulder and went back down to the ground, ignoring his small, black flame. Anam, by now, had rubbed the wound back to normal.

“I don’t understand,” Dark Matter growled. “You know I cannot feel these… positive emotions you keep asking for. I only feel fewer negative emotions. The greatest I can hope for is nothingness. No”—he raised his hand immediately to halt Anam’s protest—“I won’t hear it. Not only can I not feel the hope you are trying to send me… but it only teases me with what I will never have. Enough. Do not try to convince me.”

But he saw that stubborn look in the Goodra’s green eyes. He wished nothing more than to…

It was tiring to even think of what he wanted to do with Anam. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“Then why?” Anam asked. “Why do you want to get to Owen so much? He’s… all he wants to do is save everyone. He won’t cooperate with you to kill them instead.”

“Perhaps he will cooperate long enough that it would be beneficial to both of us.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you sure that’s why you want to work with him?” Anam leaned forward, even though it barely made a difference with how far apart they were. “You say that you hate him, that his power is a nuisance, but…”

A pang of irritation ran through his upper back like a cold needle. He squeezed his hands, claws digging into his scales so they oozed dark blood.

“Were you trying to lead me to a conclusion only you understand?” Dark Matter snarled. “Talking to me as if it was an answer I had to learn?”

“You’re pursuing him too much,” Anam went on without acknowledging him. “I… I think I understand why, now, though. You never told me, but…”

“Why should I tell you anything?”

“Mister Matter, can you answer something for me?”

He said nothing.

“Why did you keep telling me to deny Owen’s position as a Heart? Over and over and over, but you didn’t have a problem with letting the rest of Team Alloy become Hearts for real.”

Still nothing.

“I followed you because you said you sensed a darkness in him… but then suddenly you let him through. I was a little surprised, but… was it because the Orbs were getting brighter? Was that what you were waiting for? Is that… why you told me Owen should get the Grass Orb? After all, it was kind of weird you’d go along with what Necrozma probably wanted…”

“All of this prattle is useless,” Dark Matter said. “Get to the point. Otherwise, I’m going to check on Marshadow and the Titans.”

“Okay.” Anam nodded. “I think… that there’s more to why you’re trying to make Owen work with you than his closeness to Necrozma. Otherwise, you would have tried to pick Elder, or Mom, or even Emily!”

“Emily is… not under my control any longer, and you know that. Elder cannot fight, so he would be useless even if I took control of him. And your mother is a fool who sacrificed herself to protect useless little you.”

“But Owen would have done the same thing,” Anam said frantically. “He’s… one of the most positive Pokémon I know!”

“Yes. He is.” Dark Matter’s voice deepened. “They’ve brainwashed him to be like that.”

There was a glint in Anam’s eyes. “…I knew it…”

Dark Matter realized his mistake seconds later. His claws dug into the dirt. “What do you know?”

“Mister Matter… you never told me what happened during the first war. The war that erased the Legends. The one that tried to end the world, where you controlled people to—”

“Get to the point,” Dark Matter snapped.

“Owen was on your side! Wasn’t he?”

“Ngh—”

“I knew it!” Anam pointed at the Charizard. “I knew it! Ever since we came here, ever since you were so obsessed with finding him even though there are tons of other Radiant Spirits to pick from… you wanted Owen. Because… you used to be friends!”

Another crackling blast of Shadows sent various parts of Anam’s body in scattered globs. Anam’s upper half rolled and righted itself with an intact arm.

“Do not,” Dark Matter began, “mock me. Do not taunt me with this concept that I can make friends, that I can have any joy out of it. It is an empty gesture. After five hundred pointless cycles with you, I would think that you would have learned. Yet all you do is disappoint me and remind me that you cannot and will not change.”

“Then why?” Anam asked, pulling himself together. “It’s obvious that you and Owen… there’s something about it. I mean, look at you! You look like him right now!”

“I am practicing the form of a Charizard. There is nothing special or strange about that. It will unnerve and unsettle him and make him easier to read.”

“But Owen is already easy to read,” Anam said.

“No. He is not. That is a front. Owen can control his flame to deceive.”

“What? That isn’t true at all!”

“…Hmph. Then perhaps it is not true any longer.”

“Well… and the other reason I knew…” Anam pointed, but fell over. He righted himself, grew his arm back, and pointed again. “You really do look like Owen.”

Realizing that Anam was pointing just above him, Dark Matter reached up and felt the pointed horns on his head. Just like Owen. “Mrm. Coincidence.”

“Mister Matter…” Anam frowned, disappointed again.

“I owe you nothing. Leave. If Owen refuses to appear, then I will carry on with my plans.”

“And what if Kilo attacks you first? You aren’t ready, and then you’ll die.”

“Cute.” Dark Matter turned around and folded his wings over in a gesture of finality. He said nothing more to Anam, and while the Goodra tried to say a few more things, he answered nothing.

Finally, Anam left. And that heavy, cold, empty feeling returned to Dark Matter.

“Friends…” Dark Matter’s teeth cracked against themselves. “Just like you were ‘friends’ with me?” The cruel wings answered him with indifference. “My existence dictates that I can never have friends, fool. Only… allies. Tenuous agreements. Compromises and mutual goals.”

Dark Matter looked at his hands, conjuring a small, shadowy flame.

“The fabric of reality itself dictates that I suffer. If I must rewrite it entirely so that can be fixed… so be it. You agreed with me once before, Owen.” Dark Matter looked up. “…Perhaps you will agree again.”

A sudden pang shot through his heart and he shouted, doubling over. He clutched at his chest as if an icicle had jammed through it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took steady breaths. His claws dug into his thighs, drawing black blood. They went deeper, ripping flesh, and the pain eased. The claws withdrew. His body healed.

Cursed… hope, Dark Matter thought. Tentatively, he pulled his hand away from his chest. Within, his red core pulsed rhythmically. Normal. I nearly shattered myself with that… little hope. He waited a little longer, then stared behind him at the tree.

He couldn’t look at it for long. It all hurt too much.

<><><>​

“Oi, breakfast!” Gahi shouted down the main hall.

“I… forgot to eat after everything that happened,” Owen mumbled aloud, hopping onto an oversized seat. Apparently, Demitri had taken up the cooking role, and was getting quite good at it. Breakfast appeared to be a savory, thick soup of reds and greens. Owen wondered how much work had gone into Null Village figuring out how to make foods of this nature at all. Then again, after so much time here, and being immortal, they had probably come up with an innovation or two even in this desolate land…

“Well, you should eat now,” Demitri said, pointing a ladle at the tiny Charmander. “I dunno how much you need to eat, but food’s kind of expensive here, so I’m going to start you with a small bowl and you can ask for seconds, okay?”

“Sure.” He hoped the ‘small bowl’ wasn’t bigger than his head.

As everyone gathered around the large table in the common area—including Hakk and Xypher—Zena coiled near Owen and asked, “Did you happen to get any memories last night? You were murmuring about it in your sleep.”

Owen’s feathers puffed out. “I w-was, huh?” Great, now he had that going for him. “Well, I did. Just a short memory with Necrozma, though.” He had a feeling that there was another, but he couldn’t remember anything else. That was fine—the one with Necrozma gave him just what he needed. “When we’re done eating, I want some of you to come with me to ask around about a few things.”

“Ask who?”

“Some guards, maybe some authorities.”

“You have the clout for that?” Hakk asked.

Owen was still trying to get over the oversized Sandslash’s apparent attempts to turn him over to Mhynt or Alexander… but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice there. He could confront him later. Later, later, later, always later.

“Clout?” Owen instead asked.

“It’s not like you can waltz into a place and say ‘hey, tell me classified info’ or whatever.”

“I gave this town the sun, so I guess that would count for something.”

Hakk’s face twisted into a mixture of consideration and befuddlement. Eventually, it furrowed into a resigned, impressed frown. “Huh,” he said. “Y’know, point taken.”

They had some small talk over breakfast. Hakk mentioned a few errands he had to run, including picking up some of their stuff from their old home that wasn’t ruined or stolen, along with a few of Hakk’s projects that he’d forgotten. Demitri offered to help, but Hakk said they’d be fine on their own. Eon came to breakfast a little while later with Jerry, but neither seemed to be much for conversation, and Owen wasn’t interested in talking to Eon yet anyway.

“Hey, uh,” Owen cut in, “is it alright if I help you guys out a little anyway? I don’t really have a job here, and I need some extra time to think. You know, for Dark Matter. I might have something that I can do there, actually…”

“Ehhh…” Hakk glanced at Xypher, who chirped. “Fine. You aren’t worried I’m gonna, like, steal you or something?”

“Mhynt isn’t here, right? Besides, if you do, you’ll have to answer to them.” Owen gestured to the rest of Team Alloy, then at Zena, Enet, and Eon. Jerry, leaned out of the way of Owen’s gesture.

Hakk, meanwhile, avoided Mispy’s stare in particular. “Yep. That’s also a good point.”

Mispy nodded firmly.

“If Owen is going, then so will I,” Zena said. “My shift isn’t until later in the day anyway.”

“Oh, come on,” Hakk groaned. “I’m not gonna take him! I was just pointing it out!”

“It’s not just you I’m worried about.”

“What’s Xypher gonna do?”

“Dark Matter,” Zena said.

“Oh. I mean. Okay.” Hakk shrugged. “Whatever. But don’t get in the way, alright? You’re kinda huge.”

One of Mispy’s vines split open, hissing.

Hakk muttered something about a house of lunatics before leaving the table.

<><><>​

“Do you suppose Mispy is… intense at times?” Zena asked Owen.

“A little.” Owen held onto her horn while he rode on her head. “I think since she has trouble talking, she uses actions to make her point.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Hakk crossed his arms. “She’s gonna get put in the slammer one day for turning someone into paste.”

“Well, her job was usually to turn people into paste and then put them in the slammer…”

“Kilo sounds like it’s worse than here.”

“I—I think I phrased that badly. She has the same job you guys have, in a way. Guards?”

“Oh, so she’s part of the VPN of your world.”

“The what?” Zena asked.

“Voidlands Protection Network,” Owen and Hakk said. Then, Owen continued, “Yeah, and in Kilo it’s called the Thousand Hearts.”

“Right, right, I remember that. So, what, taken in for strength, or what?”

“Strength, good character, aptitude, stuff like that.”

“Good character,” Hakk repeated. “Who judges that?”

“Usually Anam…”

“…The manchild Goodra.”

“Er… h-he’s a lot better than he presents himself. Really. Kilo’s a great place!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Hakk lied.

They stopped in front of the ruined home, which was mercifully untouched by any potential looters or other thieves that would take advantage of the broken home. Perhaps they assumed it had already been cleared out… or perhaps they only stole what little remained that wasn’t hidden.

“I don’t sense anyone in there,” Owen said. “It’s safe.”

“What, you can sense auras, too?” Hakk asked.

Owen paused. He’d said that without thinking… “Uh, yeah,” he replied. He hadn’t actually checked for auras. He just didn’t sense any life inside…

“Owen?” Zena asked gently.

Owen placed a hand on her horn assuredly. “I’m fine.”

“Mm.”

They continued inside and Owen slid down Zena’s neck and onto the ground. “You guys can help move things around. I’m going to check the outside, if that’s alright.”

“What for?” Hakk asked, but Owen was already looking at the fallen portions of the building. Hakk headed in with Zena, telling her to search around the ground floor while he and Xypher went into the basement.

“It’s those crystals in the walls…”

“What about ‘em?” Hakk asked, letting Xypher descend before walking back to Owen.

“These are the same crystals we used against the Titans, aren’t they?” Owen asked.

“Ehhh yes and no,” Hakk said, leaning down. He started with one of the fallen slabs of rubble. “They’re depleted. Inert. They don’t have the sort of power that the energized ones do.”

“How do you energize them?” Owen asked.

“Usually we can’t, at least, not easily. Takes time. I dunno the process.”

“Okay… So, these are the same things, but they’re depleted. Zena?”

“Yes?”

“Can you put some high-pressure water here to dig out this stone?”

“Are these crystals fragile?”

Hakk hummed uncertainly, then said, “Stronger than the stone.”

With some work, Zena concentrated a thin but powerful stream of water against the rock, eventually breaking loose one of the crystals—a dim, yellow hue radiated from it.

“Y’know, even though they’re depleted, they’re also expensive,” Hakk grumbled. “I gotta repair this, y’know.”

“I’ll pay you back,” Owen said. “Electric…”

“Huh?”

“It’s an Electric crystal.”

“Duh, it’s yellow. You don’t know your element spectrum?”

“I, uh, we weren’t taught that.”

“Each elemental type corresponds to a color. Dragon is indigo, Psychic is pink, Grass is green—it’s derived from the color of their crystals.”

“Oh. Didn’t know that.” Owen held up the yellow one. “So, yellow’s Electric?”

“How did you not—Yes. It is.”

Owen nodded, then directed Zena to pull free a blue crystal next, and then a green one, and finally a pink one. Owen picked up the green one first, holding it tight.

“So, are you just gonna loot from my wall all day, or…”

The green crystal’s glow brightened twofold, hot in Owen’s hands. He held it to Hakk, who was staring, wide-eyed.

“It’s energized now?” Owen asked innocently.

“…How… did…”

Owen’s grin was giddy. “So it did work!” He sprang to his feet. “Zena! We can ward off Dark Matter like this!”

“Hang—hang on, did you just energize a crystal like it’s nothing?! Don’t blow over that, you have any idea how—no wonder Alexander wants you do—y’know what? Gonna pretend I didn’t see that so Mhynt doesn’t order me to grab you. Kid, you need to keep that a secret, immediately.”

“Not a kid. And, it’s that valuable?” Owen asked.

“You just did in a second what usually takes weeks per crystal, assuming we don’t find them by chance out in the plateaus.”

“I… wow. Alright. I’ll, uh, keep that in mind…” Holding the blue crystal next, Owen faced Zena. “Hold this.”

“How do I energize this one? It’s Water, I’m guessing?”

Owen nodded. “Focus like you’re meditating, first. Kind of like summoning a spirit. Then, focus that power into the crystal. It might take some effort…”

As Owen spoke, she followed along, breathing deeply. A soft light started from her head, trailing through her ribbons and into the crystal. The light from Zena faded back to normal, but the radiance from the crystal remained.

“You’re kidding me,” Hakk muttered. “Both of you?!”

“I’m… a little tired,” Zena admitted to Owen. “Are you?”

“A little, but I think I have some practice. This isn’t about power, but how to draw from yourself, if you want to activate a crystal like this.” Owen gestured to the wall. “I’m going to get some for all the Guardians. Jerry might be in danger, though, and the same goes for Demitri and Mispy. But any of the Guardians can do this. I, uh, I’ll handle Enet, since I think I know how to explain it to her.”

“Jerry should be okay,” Zena said. “He’s immune to Dark Matter’s touch.”

“What?”

Zena shrugged. “He won’t say.”

“Hmm…” Yet another thing to discuss.

Xypher emerged from the basement and chirped at Hakk. He had a few things in a bag, but it seemed whatever was down there, it was staying there or it wasn’t worth salvaging.

“Well, I guess that’s all for here,” Owen said. “Uh, sorry for the wall, Hakk.”

“Ehh, just gimme a cut of what you get paid,” Hakk muttered.

“Sure.” He grinned. “I don’t think I’ll be using money too much anyway! Okay, Zena. Let’s gather the others and find Dark Matter.”

“And you’re sure this will be enough?” Zena asked. “What are we going to talk to Dark Matter about?”

“I want to see what he has to say.” His expression was serious, but even he knew that this was only a gut feeling. “If he tries to only get us to follow him by his word alone, then we won’t.”

“He thrives on negativity,” Zena warned. “He could just try to fill us with doubt.”

“And if it seems like he’s doing that, stop listening and we can go,” Owen said. “We still have a counterattack against him, don’t we? All we have to do is coordinate with Nevren once he gets that portal open. After that… Against all of us?” Owen shook his head. “I don’t think he can win. We have the upper hand, now.”

“Just be careful,” Zena warned. “This won’t be the first time you’ve been overconfident with your Mystic power.”

A phantom pain of Jerry’s icy fangs briefly tightened Owen’s chest. “Right.” He nodded. “Right. We’ll be careful. And… make sure we don’t leave any weaknesses. We’ll try to stay near the tree, too.”

“That’s better,” Zena said, and then she smiled.

Right. As long as they were careful… they would be able to confront Dark Matter. Maybe he could get some answers, and maybe there would be a way to fix all of this. Owen could only hope that this lingering feeling in his gut that he had to speak to Dark Matter was the right one.

<><><>​

Trina, Gahi, Enet, Zena, Eon, and Jerry were the ones that came with Owen to meet Dark Matter. Demitri and Mispy—the only ones not known to be immune, or without a proper Orb to resonate with a light crystal, stayed further behind, but kept a distant watch nonetheless.

Owen stood atop Zena’s head for the greatest vantage point, and they led the way forward. Eon, as a Charmander, rode on Gahi’s shoulder, while Trina balanced between the slender Flygon’s antennae. Jerry trailed behind, making frequent, paranoid glances left and right. He muttered to himself about how stupid this was, and why everyone had so much faith in the idiot Charmander.

The idiot Charmander ignored him. He knew, deep in his gut, that seeing Dark Matter, at least to hear what he had to say, would be worth it. He once feared his instincts, but now, he realized that many of them were his past selves trying to tell him what to fear, and when to press forward. The influence of his mutant self was weakest now, and his mind felt clearer than it had been in centuries.

There was something about Dark Matter that drew him in. But if he was meant to be a creature of the light, why was that? He had to know. Perhaps seeing Dark Matter would answer that question. And even if it didn’t, he would at least have an opportunity to glean the entity’s full motivations. Perhaps even a weakness.

“We’re pretty far from town,” Eon, another Charmander, hummed.

“Dark Matter doesn’t like that tree,” Owen said. “So if we’re in trouble, we can run toward it. Everyone, you have your crystals?”

They all murmured in affirmation. Some had them grasped in their hands; others had them tied around their necks.

“Don’t lose them. I think that’s the one thing protecting you from his influence.”

The forest was darker. The air seemed denser. Light from his flame didn’t go as far as it should have. It was like the atmosphere itself was closing in on them the deeper into the forest they went. Trees loomed over them, as if making faces, mourning their arrival, and they groaned with every bitter gust of wind.

They passed by another aberrant cluster of berries in the ground and Owen’s stomach twisted in knots. He looked away quickly. When Zena asked if he was alright, he only muttered a halfhearted dismissal.

After perhaps a half hour of travel, Owen caught a glimpse of a dark glow. It was an impossibility; it flickered like fire, but where it touched was darker instead of bright.

“Stop.” Owen slid off of Zena, landing lightly on his feet. He steadied his breath, puffed his chest, checked his feathers like it was some important job interview, and faced the dark.

“We’ll be right here, Owen,” Zena assured.

“Don’t be scared,” Enet added. “He’s not strong against us.”

“Yeah, whatever she said.” Gahi gestured at Enet, who Owen realized had said that to him in the feral tongue.

“Be careful,” Trina said, “but so will we.”

“Do you need anyone with you?” Eon asked.

“…Just stay within earshot,” Owen said. “I want you to hear this, too. Just in case I forget, you know? It’s… happened before.”

“Just don’t die on us,” Jerry murmured. “I know you like doing that, but this would be a bad time.”

Owen smiled a little, but nodded and walked forward. His feathers were puffing out, and he really wished he was back to his Fiery self, but this would have to do.

“Dark Matter!” Owen called. “I’m a little early, but I’m here.”

The dark flame moved, but before it came into view, someone else stepped out from the trees to the left.

“Owen!” Anam called cheerfully. “Hi! Got here alright?”

“It was a little far.”

“Enough smalltalk.”

The world went dark. The sky went from its purple, dreary color to a black haze. The ground itself gave way to nothing, even though he could still feel the dust beneath his feet. Jerry cried in fear, but then masked it with an angry shout.

Before them was another Owen—or Dark Matter impersonating him as a great Charizard with a black flame. He stomped forward leisurely, as if he had a thousand better things to do, and was only here out of obligation. But his eyes were trained on Owen and, once they were five feet away from one another, he scowled.

“Look at you.” Dark Matter’s claws curled into the dirt. “And this is who you thought was worth waiting for?” He glowered at Anam, who strained to keep his smile.

“You were the one who went through all that trouble and risk to talk to me in the tree,” Owen replied calmly. His heart was hammering in his tiny chest. He realized, just then, how easily Dark Matter could make an attempt on his life, or whatever equivalent in this realm. Or would he capture him? Claim his spirit? No, he had light; Dark Matter couldn’t so much as touch him if he wasn’t careful.

That gave Owen pause. Why did he know that innately? That Dark Matter couldn’t touch him?

“You’re getting distracted and we barely started talking,” Dark Matter said.

“What?” Owen snapped to attention. “Oh—sorry. I was getting some thoughts.”

“You do that a lot.”

Owen said nothing. His heart felt better. His breath did not. It was hard to keep it steady in all this darkness. Something primal told him to run away, but he knew not to. “What did you want to talk to me about?” He glanced at Zena and the others around him, but they were reflexively taking steps back to keep their distance. They were all quiet, and a few looked like their breathing was labored just by being near him, so far from the tree that warded his influence.

This was bad. He had to be careful. He hadn’t expected Dark Matter’s aura to have that much of an impact on them… Would it affect him, too? So far, he felt okay…

“Straightforward. Fine. And you want all of your allies to hear this?” Dark Matter gestured to them in the back. “Some things are easier said privately.”

“I’m done with secrets.”

“Hm.”

Owen knew that Dark Matter couldn’t feel pleased, but he wondered if that had an effect in other ways.

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“I remember everything about Kanto,” Owen said. “And Almia, and Orre, and Mew, and how humans corrupted her. I remember seeing a light from a vortex above Quartz Isle, and then everything going white. Then I woke up. My human trainer became a Mew, and I thought it had always been that way.”

This was probably a surprise to his team, too. He hadn’t told them all the details, and he probably should have, but in all the mess of things, he’d forgotten. He could apologize later, hopefully. But so far, they said nothing, focused on keeping from falling to that exhausting aura, no doubt. Hang in there, guys. Be there for me…

“And that’s all?”

“For now.” Owen looked up. “What will you tell me instead?”

“You won’t believe me.”

A pang of irritation, but Owen stuffed it away. “I won’t until I remember.” Owen hardened his stare. “I’m not going to believe anything anyone says until I have proof. I didn’t have faith in gods before, and I still don’t have faith in them now.”

“Then you acknowledge that I’m a god.”

“Broadly, I guess.” Owen wasn’t really sure himself, but from what he’d seen with what a god could do… it was close, wasn’t it? An evil god was still a god.

Owen’s neck was getting sore, but he kept staring up.

“Fine. I do not know the full extent of everything. But I do know that you were Necrozma’s student, along with a few others. But you were one of his finest. You were diligent, humble, consistent, and had a good heart. But you also perplexed him, because you refused Ascension. None of his other students did. So, instead, Necrozma granted you more power than he normally would have, and made you somewhat of a demigod. You gained greater influence over blessings. And while not a Legend, you held a shadow of what they were capable of in your spirit.”

All of that made sense. Owen had no reason to doubt any of that because he already had fragments of those memories. He nodded and waited for Dark Matter to extrapolate, mentally guarded for possible deceit.

“The light you saw from the sky in Quartz was that of Arceus, the very one you know. Star had prayed to him in desperation, despite the risk it would cause, and he answered the moment she had been rescued. In a bout of rage, Arceus cast his Judgement upon that land, annihilating Quartz Isle entirely and leaving nothing but a volcanic wasteland in its place. Not only that, but the island itself was erased from history, its inhabitants forgotten or presumed missing to the rest of its world.”

“And then Kilo was born,” Owen said, the words still not fully registering. Arceus destroyed Quartz Isle? And everyone on it? That was the light? “How do you know this?”

“I am Dark Matter. I am made of regrets and pain and hatred. Those who remembered that world filled me, whether they knew it or not, with that knowledge. I was here for the world’s beginning.”

There was no proof of this, so Owen didn’t take it as fact, but acknowledged it as a possibility. He ignored the lingering feeling in his gut that it was true. That all of it was true.

Or was that his head being muddled again? Could Dark Matter be doing that to him, right now? Was his strength against Dark Matter an illusion?

“Nothing?” Dark Matter growled. “How much of your mind has been wiped, Owen? How much of you is gone to the whims of those who wish to control you?”

Owen was glad to not have his flame, but instead it felt like the autumn leaves that made up the frills of his tail had flared out. “And how are you any different?” Owen asked with a bite to his tone. “You steal memories all the time. You turn people into Void Shadows by taking their memories away.”

“I do. And I will not deny that it is monstrous. But it is no more terrible than killing in a war, something mortals do on the regular. But you, Owen. They take away your memories selectively. They want to turn you into a puppet all by your own volition. Ignorant that your will was never your own, but the wills imposed upon you by others. You are their perfect, obedient weapon.”

Those words dug into Owen more than they should have. They were like parasites digging into his forehead. Were his friends saying anything? He couldn’t hear them. Where did they go? Were they still behind him? Owen couldn’t turn around. He didn’t want to find out. But their silence sank into him.

“I’m not—I’m not a weapon. I make my own choices.” Owen’s words were feeble. This shouldn’t be getting to him. Why were they sticking to his mind so stubbornly? He’d said it to himself all the time before, that he’d been pushed around by so many of his superiors all his life, but why did it weigh so much when coming from him? No, he wasn’t supposed to let Dark Matter get to him. These were mind games. It was… a distortion. It had to be.

This was part of Dark Matter’s ploy. He wouldn’t fall for it. Clenching his fists, Owen steadied his breaths.

“You spent nearly all of your life following the choices of others. The only time you chose otherwise…” Dark Matter took one step closer. Owen took a step back, but it was nothing compared to the dark Charizard’s stride. “…Was when you chose to side with me.”

“Well, that’s obviously not true,” Zena interjected immediately, her breaths coming in scattered heaves. Owen’s world felt lighter and his feet were firmly planted on the ground. He was trying to process what Dark Matter said but it all felt cold and numb and heavy. He wanted to cling to Zena for any sort of mental warmth, but his body didn’t move. This was not a time to show weakness.

“Oh?” Dark Matter’s eyes narrowed. The black flame on his tail grew. “Deny, deny, deny. Because you do not want to consider the truth, you assume it is a lie.” He stared at Owen, expression blank. “He obviously does not remember. He is trying to keep a neutral expression.”

“This was obviously a waste of time,” Zena spat back. The amount of energy she was able to put into those words impressed Owen. “It’s time to go.”

Without thinking, Owen took a step away, nodding.

“Of course.” Dark Matter scowled. “Look at what’s happened to you. The moment someone gives a command, you listen.”

Owen stopped.

“Owen…” Zena spoke lowly. “Be careful. He’s trying to mess with your head. Let’s just go!”

“I am doing no such thing. I cannot. You know this. I am only using my words. Is that so dangerous?”

It was all reasonable. It all felt reasonable. Why? Why was Dark Matter making sense? He was waiting for some kind of flaw, but he couldn’t see any, and his head was pounding, and everything was cold.

Owen asked dumbly, “How could I have been your ally?”

And without a pause, Dark Matter answered. “You wanted to help me. You wanted to save the world. That much about you has not changed.”

“Save the world, and help you?” Owen asked. “How? You want to destroy the world.”

“I do, now.”

“Now. Then who was destroying the world instead? Necrozma?”

Dark Matter frowned again. “I told Anam”—he gestured to the silent Goodra, who flinched when he was mentioned—“that I would not tell you anything that I could not prove. My word is nothing. Any truth I tell that cannot be backed with evidence will fall on deaf ears.”

“At least you understand that much,” Eon spoke up. “You would—”

“I want to hear nothing from you, whelp.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eon growled, but the more he spoke, the more his stance slackened. “I came here like all the others, and I don’t need—”

“Enough!” Owen and Dark Matter growled back. Owen flinched, unable to believe he’d just shouted with the other, and he looked back apologetically at Eon.

Zena was horrified. “Owen, let’s go,” she said. “This was a mistake. We’ll get back to Null Village and regroup. Let’s go before he tries to mess with us more.”

“Of course. The moment your narrative is at risk, you call the truth a lie and flee. Continue to deceive Owen so he will happily pay his life and limb for your cause. Pokémon like him were born with the intent to be used as tools.” Dark Matter glared at Owen. “Go, then. When you find the strength to face the truth, seek me again.”

“You’re going to be gone, though. A-and I’m… choosing not to see you again.” There was no energy behind what was supposed to be a firm declaration.

“…Cute.” Dark Matter held his hand forward, conjuring a black haze above his palm. Immediately, everyone went on guard, but Dark Matter paid them no mind. Owen watched cautiously.

Above his palm, the darkness condensed into a black, coin-like object with a needle balanced on the top. It pointed toward Dark Matter, no matter how it was turned. Dark Matter tossed it to Owen.

“Those with Necrozma’s blessing have an innate sense of where he is. In the Voidlands, his location is considered ‘north’ and is universal across this plane. If you squeeze that coin, you will gain a second ‘north,’ which will point to me.”

“Don’t do it, Owen,” Zena said instantly. “He’s trying to corrupt you! Dark Matter said that Necrozma’s blessing gave that sense if north—so by taking that, you’ll—”

“He already has,” Dark Matter said, “my blessing, fool. Have you been paying attention?”

“Not once has Owen shown any sign of your… your horrible power!” Zena shouted back.

“Of course he hasn’t. It’s been sealed. Sealed like everything else. But that’s all it is; it can be unleashed again. Just like his mutant, weaponized self, suppressed for so long by his own, latent dark power…”

“What?” Owen asked in a whisper. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just go,” Zena urged. “Please, Owen.”

Dark Matter’s expression was neutral as always. He watched, saying nothing. The coin felt even heavier in Owen’s hands.

“Just leave it behind and come with us,” Zena said gently. “Please, Owen. You can’t possibly believe what he’s saying!”

Owen held the coin a little tighter.

“Owen!”

And then loosened. Dark Matter frowned just barely.

“Not yet.” Owen placed the coin in his satchel along with the spare crystals he’d brought.

“Not yet,” Dark Matter repeated. “And what does that mean?”

“I’m keeping my options open,” he replied hollowly, like a default. “I’m not making any decisions when I’m… stressed.”

Demitri and Mispy got closer, but were held off by Enet, who growled at them to keep away. Jerry muttered something about not getting too close.

“Then I believe we’re done here.” Dark Matter turned and gestured at someone in the shadows of the forest. Moments later, Marshadow emerged, looking normal, but frowning. “I will also be returning this one to you.”

“What?” Owen blinked, but then winced. “You… totally corrupted him, didn’t you?” His heart sank. So, Marshadow was just…

“Yeppers, I’m really goin’ fer my namesake now,” Marshadow said, nodding apologetically. “But hey, orders’re pretty simple. Just do my usual thing, then go back when’m called fer stuff. Guess I ain’t gonna be goin’ inter any high security places anymore, but hey. I’ll work somethin’ out.”

“…You’re supposed to be a Legend. Why were you corrupted at all?”

“A lower Legend. Didn’t get caught ‘til now since I was small ‘n spry. And Dark Matter was all, eh, y’know, busy an’ away.”

Marshadow disappeared into the ground, reappearing near the others with his hands on his hips. Mispy growled and threatened him with the beginnings of a Solar Beam, but he held up his arms pacifyingly.

“Y’know, I have one question.” From behind, Jerry stepped forward, a skeptical look in his eyes. “For the dark god that created this whole place, I’m surprised you’re humoring this at all. You came in here swinging and nearly took down the whole Null Village, and suddenly you’re out here sulking. Doesn’t seem like you, now does it?”

“Get to the point.”

“My point is, if you could get rid of us, you would have. Are these dumb charms that Owen made actually warding you off?” Jerry motioned to the crystals in the Guardians’ possession.

“They are.” Dark Matter nodded, then turned around. “Of course, if someone were to knock them away, you would be vulnerable again. But you took precautions to keep yourselves secure. Otherwise, I would have possessed all of you by now. Also…” Dark Matter stared to the left, glaring at Anam. “He has been focused on suppressing me.”

So that was why Anam was so quiet… How precarious is their situation? Owen had felt for a time that he had to see Dark Matter. He didn’t know why. It was a gut instinct; a feeling, perhaps from a buried memory. But this truth Dark Matter had given him… It was more than that.

What did he forget? What was left in that gap of lost memory?

“Now, go away.” Dark Matter started to walk.

“Wait.”

And he stopped, like he was expecting it.

That discouraged Owen some, but he pressed onward. “I have one last thing I want to ask.” When Dark Matter said nothing back, Owen continued, trying to keep his feathers from puffing out again. “Tell me why you want me to know the truth. Won’t that just lead me to trying to save Kilo?”

“You aren’t ready.”

“Try me.”

“Rrgh… I hate that confident tone.” He turned his head only so one eye could glare down at Owen. “You know nothing, yet you think you can handle what hides in the dark. You, a species that cannot live without light.”

“I’ve been in the dark for centuries,” Owen said. “All I want is to get my memories back. If I get any of them from you, then fine. At least I know. So, what? Are you hoping that if I get them back, I’ll side with—”

“I do not hope.” His eyes hardened. “I desire. I see several options, all of them painful, but some less than others. You gaining your memories is convenient. I will not tell you anything that would be inconvenient to me… and I will not bother telling you anything your original patron will simply erase.”

“My original patron… Necrozma.” Owen’s feathers were rising against his will. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“Believe what you want.” Dark Matter walked into the gloom. “That’s all mortals do.”

And then he left. Owen felt like he had so much more to say, and yet he was already gone. He wouldn’t come back, either. Not today.

So instead, he gazed at Anam, the Goodra’s expression no longer as concentrated, but now tired and relieved.

“Owen,” Zena said gently, and finally she put a ribbon over his shoulder. It dwarfed him and he leaned into it.

“Right. Let’s go back.”

He felt so heavy and hollow. Even when Dark Matter left, that feeling lingered. At first, Owen had thought that it was simply because Dark Matter’s aura had that effect—especially since everyone else looked visibly relieved once he was gone. Like they could breathe again.

But not for Owen. He climbed onto Zena in silence, stared at the compass that Dark Matter had left, and contemplated squeezing it right then. But why?

Shaking his head, Owen looked down. “Zena.”

“Mhm?”

“I want you and the rest of Team Alloy to talk to me after you guys are done with work, okay?”

“Do you want to do it now?”

“No. I need to think.”

“Okay.” Zena didn’t nod because he was on her head, but he could tell she was trying not to fight him on anything. She’d been so persistent in getting him to go away; maybe she was feeling guilty over it.

“Thanks for being there,” Owen added. “A-all of you.”

“Hey, it’s ter keep us safe,” Gahi said.

“That was very strong of you,” Trina said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t of any help. When we got there, I felt… drained. I could barely will myself to say a word…”

“That might have been him,” Owen said. “It might have been even worse without those light crystals.”

“He wasn’t like that before,” Zena said. “Is… is he becoming stronger?”

“He ain’t attackin’ us yet,” Gahi said.

“He’s waiting,” Mispy concluded. “When… will he?”

Nobody had an answer that they wanted to say aloud.

They slowly returned to Null Village. The tree that Owen had created worked as a beacon for them, and very few Void Shadows tried to get close anymore. There were a few hiding in the trees, but none dared attack them when they were so numerous, and with those crystals.

And they were going to reconvene with Nevren and the others soon, too. And all of this worrying wouldn’t matter anymore, because then they would be able to fight Dark Matter from both sides. They were going to dispel his power, fix Amia, free all the Void Shadows, free every single spirit from the Voidlands, and return Kilo to its proper state. It was all going to be okay.

Those were all things that Owen thought. Yet, for some reason, none of it stuck in his mind. Because unlike everything Dark Matter had said, Owen didn’t know if any of it was true.

What Owen hated most of all, on a primal level, was how he’d fought and lost without throwing a single attack.

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 115 – Espionage and Deception​

The walk home was like a new breath of fresh air every step of the way. The further they got from Dark Matter, and the closer they got to the tree, the more everyone’s spirits seemed to be back to normal. It quickly dawned on them all that Dark Matter’s very presence had done that to them—and getting any closer, or staying any longer, could have made it worse.

But those feelings lingered in the back of Owen’s mind. He couldn’t shake them. It didn’t feel like some… external, dark presence. But now, he couldn’t be sure…

Gahi was muttering something to the others about beating Dark Matter up. Trina lectured him about the dangers of that, and how most of his fighting involved making contact. Demitri suggested throwing his tusks, but Trina tried, and failed, to explain that fighting him was a bad idea in general. As a solution, Demitri suggested throwing from even further away. By then, Trina gave up. Gahi suggested Psychic aiming.

Before Trina could reply, Zena cut over the banter. “I think,” she said, “I’m going to stay with Owen today, and… report as sick to work.”

“Lovesick?” Jerry murmured, earning a hiss from one of Mispy’s mouthed vines.

“I want to keep him company. Owen, would you mind that?”

“I—”

“But it ain’t easy, y’know, gettin’ away with that…” Gahi hummed. “And I dunno if they’ll jus’ fire yeh, y’know?”

“Heh, maybe,” Marshadow remarked, hands behind his head. “Employment’s kinda tough sometimes. Where d’you work again? Service? Yeah, yer kinda expendable.”

“I work at a bathhouse,” Zena said.

“As a Milotic? Heh, maybe not too expendable.”

“…You can’t find a better place to work?” Owen asked.

“Not really.” She looked down. “I’ve been isolated in a cave for quite a while, Owen. I’ve lost a lot of my career skills.”

Owen seemed pensive about that. And Zena, when she spoke about work, was starting to look visibly uncomfortable. Marshadow’s quiet laughter wasn’t helping things. Something about that made his feathers puff out.

“I’d probably need some work, too,” Owen said. “At least to keep things comfy while we work out what to do about Dark Matter. Maybe I should take up a job at your place, too.”

At first Zena seemed hopeful, but then she quickly shook her head. “Oh, you don’t need to…”

“Would you like me to?” Owen pressed, and to this, Zena seemed conflicted again.

“It won’t be a bother?” she asked. “It’s… it would be odd, I think. But maybe just for a day, if…”

That was all Owen needed to know. There was more to it, wasn’t there? “Better than sitting around in my thoughts,” he stated.

“W-well. Sure. I’ll see if it’s allowed. But… Well, I still think you should rest. I’ll go in late, send some word to them…”

“Lookit you,” Marshadow said, eyeing Owen with an entertained smirk. “Feelin’ possessive?”

“…I’m starting to think Null Village doesn’t have the best employment practices,” Owen muttered.

Marshadow shrugged. “The world’s godless.”

Says the Legend. Owen glanced at Zena. “Only if you’re okay with it,” he said.

“Just for one day, I think I’d like that,” Zena admitted. “Maybe… at least to find a job for you.”

It was an excuse, but they both knew it.

<><><>​

Owen hopped off of Zena once they were back in their new home and walked down the hall. Enet pawed at the entrance again and Zena helped open the door. The Grassmander nodded a greeting to Amia, who did nothing, and then he hopped onto the bed that had the imprints of Zena’s body. Scaling the hills, he rolled into one of the crevices with his hands clasped over his belly, thoughtful.

“Hello? Yes… yes, this is Milotic… Yes, Milotic Zena. I’m going to come in late for work, I’m sorry.”

Owen, puzzled, rolled so he could get a look at what Zena was doing. Enet was sprawled out and rolling on her bed, snorting and sneezing and subbing her head against the bed. Zena was coiled in the corner with what looked like another strange device in her ribbons, much like the one Marshadow had shared with him before. Was she speaking to it? Was that badge her employer?

No, wait. This was… technology, something he’d only expect from the human world. Or Nevren’s communicator. But Zena had one?

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. It was a personal matter. …I… Am I supposed to say? Y-yes, yes, it’s—it was for someone close to me, an important meeting, I had to guard him. N-no, it isn’t like that, I—”

Owen’s claws dug into the bed. The leaf on his tail glowed softly.

“Yes. Yes, it won’t happen again. I understand. Yes, I’ll take a late shift. Thank you.” She tapped something on the badge with her other ribbon, but Owen saw that she was trembling.

“Zena?”

“Oh! Right. You’re here.” Zena cleared her throat. “That was my boss. He, er. Well, I did throw this on him short-notice…”

“Was he yelling at you?” Owen asked.

“Like I said, it was short-notice, so…”

Owen hummed a little loudly, disapproving of something. He wasn’t sure what. “Something about this doesn’t sit right.”

“That’s just how bosses usually are, Owen,” Zena said. “I can’t find anything better. And I don’t really have the time, either. Sometimes, I have to clean up after work, and by the time I get home, well, I’m quite tired. I was lucky enough to get this day off, though I don’t have any pay for it. I don’t have that same power as a Guardian. I need to work to sustain things until this Dark Matter business is taken care of. Being hungry isn’t very fun, you know. And decent food here is expensive…”

This sounded like Zena was in a bind not over physical power but social power. Would Zena enjoy if someone else was there to make it more bearable? Even worse, Owen wasn’t sure if the work environment was healthy for her mental health—or if something else was going on that Zena didn’t have the clout to go against.

He didn’t want to impose anything on her, let alone embarrass her, but… Maybe he could get something out of this that was productive, too. Anything to stop stewing in his own thoughts. “I’m fine with working there, you know, until I find another job,” Owen offered. “It’ll help make things easier here, right?”

There was a hopeful look in Zena’s eyes, but it seemed her pride kept her from accepting outright. “Oh, well,” she said, “I wouldn’t want to burden you with that.”

“No, I think I’d want that,” Owen said. “Anything to stop thinking about all this. Maybe a basic job is what I need.”

Again, she hesitated, but it didn’t seem like it was because she didn’t want him there. “It’s a little odd,” she admitted. “You don’t usually… well, perhaps if you’re looking for work, yes. That could be it…” Zena nodded. “Right. Right… But first, let’s relax. After what just happened with Dark Matter, I think I need it…”

“Yeah.” They definitely needed it. Zena didn’t look like she wanted to talk about work in any sort of depth, so he didn’t press it. “When is Nevren going to talk with us again?”

“He said fifteen days at the latest, when we’d seen him before,” Zena said. “Assuming time moves the same here—and we don’t really know for sure—that’s tomorrow our time.”

“How long was I…”

Zena smiled sadly, coiling around the bed so she didn’t take up Owen’s space, though he would have preferred it. “And how are you feeling, Owen? After…”

A fair question to ask, so Owen took the time to think on his answer. “I’m feeling better.” It was technically true. Not great, but better than before. He could tell that Zena knew. “I’m sorry if I let him get to me.”

“He got to all of us, but he was definitely targeting you,” Zena agreed with a cautioning tone. “I can’t believe he’d say such a thing to you…”

“He was trying to make me doubt everything,” Owen summarized. “But the thing is, I think a lot of what he said was… true.”

“It can’t possibly be,” Zena replied instantly, like it had been in her head. “You, aligned with him? With the same powers as him? I can’t imagine it at all.”

Deny, deny, deny, Dark Matter’s words echoed in his mind. It really did hurt to see Zena like that, but wasn’t it the truth?

“Are you sure he isn’t manipulating you? F-false memories? Ah, I’m… I’m sorry if that’s a touchy subject, I—”

“It’s alright. It’s… I get it. It might be, from your perspective, I just—I don’t think that can be it. He takes away memories and he makes negativity, but I’ve never seen him implant memories. I don’t think he can do that. And when I think about what he said, I’m… I feel confident that… at least some of it is true. And I don’t think confidence is something he can implant, either.”

“Confidence…” Zena shifted her weight. Enet was watching them closely.

“Sorry. I promise, I’m not gonna, like, side with him or anything, not after everything he’s done. It’s just, there must have been something different in the past that made me think differently, or maybe Dark Matter himself was different! It’s just like Eon. He’s different now.”

“Just like Eon.” Zena repeated that to herself, quietly, and that put a little light in her eyes. “That’s true. People do change a lot, and perhaps Dark Matter most of all, for you to have once sided with him.”

Hearing it back from Zena reinforced it. That was true, wasn’t it? Perhaps it wasn’t that Owen had once been somehow bent on Dark Matter’s nihilistic philosophies—but that Dark Matter had once been different!

Because he was trying to save the world, Owen realized. But what does that mean for Necrozma?

“You have that thoughtful look in your eyes again,” Zena said gently.

“Y’know, I thought losing my flame would make me harder to read.” Owen huffed, crossing his arms.

“No, I think I just know you well enough by now.” She curled one extra coil around the bed.

He couldn’t hide a smile. “Guess you do,” he said, heart fluttering a little. Then, after a pause, he glanced uncertainly at her. “Are… are we courting again?”

“Well, I—”

“Yeah,” Enet stated.

Zena blinked, glancing at her, then at Owen. “Did she just agree?”

“Oh, was that feral again?”

They stared in a brief silence, and then Zena laughed. “Well, Enet has always been more insightful than she lets on. I… I suppose we might be.” More silence. She was searching for the words.

Owen weighed it in his mind. He had initially been trying to start fresh with Zena. It was because they’d started off out of necessity, to stay sane. Zena was lonely; Owen was confused. They’d defended each other… but they still had things in common after all that. And now, despite everything, it felt… right, this time. Right enough to try.

Zena went on, “I know that we wanted to take things slowly, or, er—”

“Let’s do it.”

Zena’s scales flushed a deep red. “I’m sorry?”

“Courting. Let’s do it.”

Zena visibly relaxed, laughing along with her sigh. “Owen, you really… catch me off guard with your phrasing.”

That one, he hadn’t realized. “Sorry.” Grinning, he sat up. “Does Enet keep watch while we’re gone?”

Zena nodded.

“I know it’s weird for me to go to your work, but I’m too small to be a guard or a scout, and you’re my best reference. It’ll help bring in more money. And I want to try a few things to prepare for Dark Matter.”

“Oh? A few things?” Zena asked.

Owen nodded. “In case Dark Matter tries to force anyone to tell him, I need to keep it to myself. If… if that’s okay with you.”

Zena seemed unsure about that, but then sighed. “Well, you’re the last person I’d expect to keep a secret unless it was for a really good reason. Just… don’t do anything reckless. Okay?”

“This is the opposite of reckless,” Owen assured her. “It’s a plan for if something goes wrong. Speaking of which, will Enet be okay on her own?” he glanced at the Zoroark. “What if someone with Dark Matter tries to get her?”

Enet disappeared before his very eyes.

“Oh.”

“She’s very good at it,” Zena explained, and that was enough.

<><><>​

Aster stood in an empty room, his ears ringing after another bellowing, angry roar from Alexander. Next to him was Mhynt, standing stoically as ever. He had been there for what felt like an eternity. Was he going to stop soon?

At this point, whatever Alexander had been saying was completely meaningless. He had no idea what was actually happening now. What he was saying. Why he was there.

Oh, because he’d failed. Now he remembered…

“Aster.”

“Y-yes?” Finally standing at attention, the Mewtwo stiffened and stared straight ahead. Alexander drifted around him, his breaths coming in low, echoing growls tainted by darkness.

“What did I just say?” he quizzed.

“U-um… that… I’m a disgrace, and didn’t achieve even the s-simplest task.”

“…Mmff. Then you were listening.” Alexander leaned closer, growling

“Your Greatness,” Mhynt said, “I have good news, at least.”

“Good news? And you held it until now?”

“Yes. I did not want this to be over remote communications, and you took me to this meeting straight upon my arrival.”

Alexander’s expression twisted into a somehow deeper snarl. “Are you calling me a fool?”

“No, sir. Your anger is justified.”

“Then what is the report?”

“I lent some of my power to one of the guards of Null Village. I subtly altered his preferences to be partial toward being near Owen as a companion. Subtly enough that he would not realize it. With my latent Psychic power, I can see through his eyes when I focus, and I can read through his memories at will. He will be a valuable spy to keep an eye on Owen’s whereabouts.”

“Hmmm…” Alexander floated back, some of his anger ebbing away.

But Aster couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was Mhynt really that powerful, all this time? Or did she simply never have that opportunity before? Sure, she only recently got her full power back, but was it really this much that was sealed away?

“That is helpful…” The shadowy haze around Alexander’s body disappeared and Aster relaxed. The Hydreigon’s breathing no longer echoed. “And what did you learn already, then?”

“Owen intends to confront Dark Matter soon. He is likely going to figure out how to counter his power, even though he is weak. I also have learned that those in the living world are going to fight Dark Matter from the outside at the same time. In other words, a two-plane assault.”

“A battle from both sides.”

“If they strike soon, I suspect Dark Matter will be defeated with ease.” Mhynt straightened her posture. “His army is not ready. We will be able to take the remnants of Dark Matter’s army for ourselves and there will no longer be another Void King to challenge you.”

Aster did his very best to suppress a shudder. The only thing that held Alexander back from absolute rule was Dark Matter vying for the same power, and Necrozma across the Abyssal Ocean who was already powerless. If Dark Matter was gone, Alexander could…

But that was what he wanted, right? Alexander would be happy. Then they could have fun. Alexander wouldn’t yell at him ever again.

“That’s great!” Aster said, grinning. “That means Owen would do all the hard work for you!”

“And then we can kill Owen,” Alexander said, rumbling with a new laughter. “Perhaps your mistake was a stroke of luck instead, Aster. Maybe I won’t turn you into a Void Shadow after all.”

The Mewtwo’s blood ran cold. “Y-you were going to do that?”

“Perhaps for a few weeks,” Alexander said leisurely. “But now, I’m feeling generous. I’ll let you remain… intact.”

Aster forgot to breathe. He nodded and tried to speak. No words came.

“You’re dismissed. Mhynt, I want a report every day of your findings.”

“Of course.”

Alexander said nothing more. Aster nodded and disappeared, searching for a quiet space in the castle to cry.

<><><>​

Cipher Castle’s courtyard was an excessively vast space of reddish green grass and glistening, black ponds. It was cleaner than untreated water of the Voidlands, but it still had a tinge of rot that, for the most part, people had become used to. An overweight Swampert was running laps around one of the blackened ponds, struggling every step of the way.

Mhynt strode along a stone walkway, the same color as the blotchy purple sky, and turned her attention to the left. Guards who were chatting next to a fountain in the shape of Alexander spewing water noticed her stare. One by one, they stood at attention, and Mhynt sighed, walking past them. They immediately relaxed, and one of them—a Luxray—mumbled to the others about how scary she was.

Feeling a little impish, Mhynt flicked her hand and launched a spear of darkness over the guard’s head, scorching the upper tip of his mane. The guard yelped, but Mhynt had already gone down a different path.

Alexander was probably watching, so she had to keep the cruelty up. Their fear fed him.

Once she was halfway to the courtyard’s exit, she stopped near a hedge maze and ignored the Void Shadows trapped inside the brambles. She leaned against it and the wraiths shrank away from her. She then flicked her hand, materializing a badge, and flicked through the holographic display with a conjured, shadowy claw.

She found Leph’s contact and waited for her to answer.

“What do you want?”

“I want to go out for some lunch.”

“What? Why?”

“Why not?”

Leph paused and Mhynt heard a small whimper. She hardened her expression and transferred that to her voice. “Is something wrong, Leph?”

“No, I’m just feeling under the weather. Fine. I’ll come with you.”

“I thought gods didn’t get sick,” Mhynt commented dryly.

Leph paused again, then said, “Is Aster coming?”

“If you want.” That was an odd request. Leph usually hated having Aster around since he was so disruptive. “Why don’t I contact him?”

“Fine. But be nice to him.”

“Why?”

“You know why. Alexander has been awful to him.”

“Mm. For failing a critical mission.”

“Mhynt, I’m not having this conversation.”

“Okay.” Mhynt held a breath, sighed quietly, and added, “I won’t mention anything of the sort.”

“Thank you.”

“And how have you been?”

Silence, and that was all Mhynt needed to know.

“I’ve been under the weather. Like I said.”

“Mm.”

“Did you see Owen?”

For only a moment, Mhynt was glad nobody else was around. At least, nobody that could see her face. There was of course that one person a few paces away. They would have seen her stoic mask break for a split-second. She hastily composed herself. “I made contact with him. But he’s nothing like I remember,” she lied. “Lost cause.”

“Oh…”

“It’s nothing to be worried about, Leph. It only reaffirms my purpose here.”

“Right.”

Mhynt said nothing. The Swampert completed his first lap around the small lake.

“Well. I’ll see you at the front of the courtyard, like usual.”

“I’ll call Aster. Goodbye.”

Just as Mhynt ended the call, she sighed and tilted her head upward. “What do you want?”

“Oh? You knew I was here?”

An icy, haughty voice came from the other side of the hedge maze. The Inteleon, Qitlan. While he was by far the weakest, he was considered Alexander’s second in command, if only because he’d done the perfect amount of steady work, reports, useful praise, and general tail-kissing to the Hydreigon’s ego. And he was also apparently one of the best at getting information, and was already hard at work getting what they could from the captive Mew, slowly but surely.

“Of course,” Mhynt said. “You wanted something?”

“Oh, no, no. I was only checking on you. After all, it must be very heartbreaking to see your old mate so twisted and reduced to a shadow of themselves…”

“Get to the point.”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry. I thought you said it was beyond you now. I didn’t think you actually cared.”

Mhynt mentally cursed. She’d slipped. There was no point in hiding it now. “I won’t deny some bitterness,” she said, “but that comes with the territory. It changes nothing; he’s still gone. The one I knew is buried forever in his memories.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.” And Mhynt thought for just a second that it was genuine. “I’ll admit, though, I was worried about this. Alexander has more faith in you than I have for a mission like that. Granted, if you actually had come back with Owen, I would have been entirely convinced of your convictions…”

“Mm. It would have been convenient for me. Unfortunately, my powers were stalled. It is Owen, after all.”

“Yes. Your only true rival at the moment. One with Light and Shadow…”

“The Shadow half is still sealed,” Mhynt said. “I suspect Dark Matter will try to draw it out, but Necrozma’s light will win. Owen will kill Dark Matter, and then we will be one step closer. There was no risk of Owen being claimed after all, if he was able to ward me so easily. It was a strategic retreat. Why interfere when the enemies are fighting one another?”

“Hm!” Qitlan sounded surprised. “You’ve told Alexander already?”

“I have. He was happy.”

“Now that’s the true surprise.”

Mhynt chuckled at that one, and Qitlan did, too.

“So, to half-celebrate,” Mhynt continued, “we’re going for lunch. I have to call Aster, now.”

“Of course. Enjoy yourself.”

“And what about you?” Mhynt asked. “Progress with Star?”

“She’s a tough one,” Qitlan said. “Her mind is a maze and none of our psychics have been able to break through her memories. I suppose it’s to be expected… but it’s cumbersome nonetheless. Ah, well. We will break her eventually.”

“Mm.” Mhynt nodded. “Good luck with that, then. Now, if you don’t mind…?”

“Ah, of course. Goodbye, then.” Qitlan stepped away, his lithe footfalls even softer before, finally, she couldn’t hear them at all.

Star… Mhynt searched for Aster’s contact. Hold on a little while longer.

<><><>​

Cipher City was the largest settlement in all of the Voidlands. Kilo Mountain’s crater was large enough that it took an afternoon to walk from one end to the other; Cipher City sprawled across the center of Void Forest, destroying the dead trees to make room for more buildings for its growing population. Two, perhaps three Kilo Villages could fit inside the city, and that was ignoring the fact that the buildings were tens of stories high in some places.

Mhynt was accompanied by Leph and Aster, two of them riding on the former. They had left the aged Cipher Castle to go into more modern and less traditional parts of the city. The buildings were square and dotted with depleted light crystals, looking like stones dotted with rainbow geodes. Some of the fancier buildings got more extravagant with their crystal work, shaping the colors of each one to depict a picture if far away.

The roads were wide enough to accommodate even Groudon’s wide stance and still have room to spare. Everything was some shade of purple or black at its base, though the dark buildings and colorful lights gave some flair to the dreary atmosphere. Far ahead was a great pillar with an orb of light at the top. It didn’t do much for Mhynt’s scales, and staring at it was not nearly as harmful as the true sun, but it at least provided some light and a sense of time to Cipher City’s inhabitants.

Mhynt sighed, looking down at Leph’s fur. She hadn’t washed lately and it felt matted and thick. How low the gods had fallen.

“Oh! Is that where we’re going?” Aster asked, leaning forward and pointing over Mhynt’s head. She leaned left to see past Leph’s neck. She was at least glad that the holy ring around Leph’s abdomen made a proper, tangible divider between her and Aster so he didn’t accidentally knock her over.

“It is,” Leph said. “I thought we would go somewhere a little more energetic.”

“Energetic, hm?” Mhynt eyed the building’s decorations, unimpressed. It was mostly a bunch of green crystals in the shape of a Tyranitar in a suggestive pose. The Tyranitar’s Tail. “Why?”

Leph only shrugged.

“I think it’s neat!” Aster said.

Mhynt could already smell something vile inside and masked it with a snort. She’d have to get used to that scent later.

The interior of the bar was no better. Sickly brown wood, polished and brightened artificially with some dubious paint, covered the walls, and the tables looked like they were only washed with water for the legally required amount. Mhynt wasn’t going to look under them. After ordering a large booster seat for her table, and for Leph to clear out a spot where she could sit on a mat without a seat to even their heights out, they got situated.

It was different, speaking at near-eye level to Leph and Aster alike. It felt like she could actually get a word in.

“Come here often?” Mhynt hummed, glancing at the patrons that still watched them. There was a light buzz, but it was quieter than before they had entered. Eyes of countless patrons stealing glances at Alexander’s finest. Of course they would watch.

“Not too often, but I was curious about its energy,” Leph replied.

“Energy. Mm.” No, there was more to it. A noisy place. They were getting eyes, but not many were coming close. Hiding in plain sight? Was that what Leph was doing? This area was wholly unexpected…

Occasionally, Leph made a glance at the entrance. Nobody of particular note came in, and with how far in the back they were, did it matter?

No, it didn’t. And that was important.

“Hey, there.” There was a hint of nervousness in the waitress’ voice—a gruff looking Mightyena—but she at least had the courage to approach. Mhynt could respect that. As she used a free paw to pass the menus on her back to the trio, she asked, “Can I get you anything to drink to start off?”

“Oran juice!” Aster said cheerfully.

“Just water, please,” Leph replied.

“Your strongest drink. Titan sized.” Mhynt didn’t look up, so she didn’t see the waitress’ expression, and instead looked through the menu’s appetizers.

There was a pause, and then the Mightyena nodded. “Of course! And would you like to hear about our specials?”

“Only one,” Mhynt said.

“Oh! Erm. Yes. Well, er, we, um…”

“Mhynt, stop being so intense!” Aster laughed, patting Mhynt on the shoulder, who barely moved.

“Hm?” Mhynt glanced up. “How do you mean? I think I only want to hear the best special right now.”

“Oh! Well, the best one.” Mightyena visibly relaxed. “I’d recommend the spicy rocky wings. They’re a new item made with extra crispy batter, and real meat!”

“Real meat, hm? And just how was that acquired?”

“Legally,” Mightyena said, like it was rehearsed.

“I’ll order that, along with the bottomless chips. I’d also like the Tyratail Sliders.”

“Me, too!” Aster added. “Oh! And can I have the Cheri burger to go with it?”

“The cheese-veggie salad, please,” Leph finished. “That’s all for me. Titan sized.”

With their orders taken, Mightyena left, and Mhynt faced Leph again. The Creator’s daughter was always so polite. Mhynt figured she must have gotten it from the holy father’s mannerisms. So, why here? The Treecko’s yellow eyes bore holes into Leph’s face.

“Well, I guess with that look you’re giving me, you know something must be strange,” Leph finally said.

Mhynt said nothing.

Aster, too, said nothing.

“…I wanted to talk to you about Alexander.”

“Oh?” Mhynt asked. “I thought you preferred not to speak about work when on a break.”

Leph’s expression was inscrutable. She wasn’t nearly this unreadable during poker. And Aster was being remarkably quiet, too.

“There’s a resistance brewing,” Leph continued. “They’re done with his rule. I’ve… kept it a secret for a while. But I’m their leader, and… I got careless. I defied Alexander too openly and he nearly Voided me. I think he’s afraid. And I know you hate him, too. Even if you follow all his orders, I know you hate him. If we all work together, we can overthrow him. But we have to act fast. It has to be tomorrow.”

Mhynt’s face was like stone. She heard the words, and she understood the impact, but she did not let it move her. “I see,” she replied. “You’re keeping this resistance stronghold a secret even here, so it does not get out, then.”

“I am.” Leph was intentionally hiding her movements, tensing her muscles to keep still. Aster was less subtle, fidgeting nervously. They were afraid of something. That she would betray them after all this trust they’d built?

“Aster?”

“Y-yeah?”

“You’re part of this as well?”

“M-mhm.”

“I see.” Mhynt nodded. “That was very smart of you to do this here. Alexander’s spies wouldn’t already be here, because it is not your usual haunts. But you made sure to see everyone coming in. Very good.” Mhynt sighed. “But by now, one probably came. Let’s enjoy our food.”

Leph and Aster were silent again, glancing nervously at one another, then back at Mhynt.

“You—” Aster hesitated. “You mean, you’re fine with it? A-after all the work you’ve done for Alexander?”

“Hm?” Mhynt didn’t look up again, reading aimlessly through the menu. “You seemed confident about your deductions. Why doubt it now?”

“Well, we… I…” Leph fidgeted. More silence. Yes, something was wrong. How much of what Leph just told her was a lie? “It’s nothing.”

“Then it was nothing,” Mhynt agreed, and just in time, their waitress returned with drinks and appetizers.

“Enjoy!”

“We will.” Mhynt slid her drink—which was larger than she was—toward her and then forward, and then grabbed a chip the size of her hand and nibbled at it, piece by piece.

Mhynt would have enjoyed the relative peaceful respite after that exchange, perhaps savoring some of the food the bar had to offer—it was a guilty pleasure—but all of that came crashing down when a cross-eyed Ursaring wobbled toward their table.

“Hey,” he said in a slur thicker than Aster’s head. “You’re that Minty Treecko everyone knows about…”

She considered ignoring him, but the stench was getting to her. She would shoo him away. A warning first. “I am Mhynt, yes. And you’d best—”

“Y’know, I always had a thing for small, powerful Pokémon like you…”

The warning expired. With a flickering motion, Mhynt produced her Honedge blade from thin air and pointed it just under Ursaring’s chin. “Leave.”

Ursaring’s smile broadened, but there was a tinge of fear in his eyes. “Feisty,” he commented. “Y’know, maybe I’ll buy you a drink or two and we can go to my place tonight…”

He grinned again, though his smirk held a bit of hopeful fear in him. Was he really asking her out? She really needed to work on her ‘go away’ default expression. With a sigh, she said, “Fine.”

Much to Aster and Leph’s surprise.

“Um—Mhynt? Are you feeling okay?” Leph asked. Any attempt at stoicism had disappeared from Leph in an instant.

“Of course. Ursaring, why don’t you come with me to the washroom?” Mhynt stepped off of her seat and landed far to the floor. “Leph, Aster, feel free to start eating if your food comes before I return.”

She didn’t look back as she stepped past the other patrons and into the back corner of the room. Ursaring followed, fidgeting nervously, giggling to himself, while a few nearby waitresses sighed and seemed to play fire-water-grass against each other for who had to perform cleaning duty next.

The washroom hall had several doors, but Ursaring kindly opened one of the larger ones so she could step in. The strong, chemical smell of cleaning liquids wafted toward her and made her inner Grass shrivel.

“So, uh, why here?” Ursaring asked, followed by a deep giggle.

Mhynt kicked off the ground and leapt onto a sink, turning so she was closer to his height. “I didn’t want anybody else to see, of course. I like leaving things to the imagination. Now, why don’t you give me a kiss?”

“O-uhuhu-ohoho… a kiss?” Ursaring, flustered, shifted left and right. “S-sure, sure! And, um, a kiss?”

“We’ll see what happens from there,” Mhynt said. “Maybe we’ll hold hands next.”

Ursaring’s fur puffed out and he nodded quickly.

“Now, close your eyes.”

He obeyed and leaned forward. Mhynt concentrated, watching his wobble… Her eyes flashed with pink light.

She saw an Ursaring working in heavy lifting in a company a few blocks from the bar. He was supposed to be at work, but he often shirked it. He went to the bar for extended breaks and spent a portion of his money on drinks and treats for random ladies he’d see. Then, he would go home to a makeshift family, and he felt powerful around them, often because he did still make the most money. But they also resented him, and he liked that look in their eyes.

She saw flashes of the things he did to them.

A rotten spirit, like so many in Cipher City. Only the rotten survived.

She’d seen enough.

Mhynt broke her concentration; only a few seconds had passed, and Ursaring was still waiting, eyes closed, for his prize. Mhynt reached up and pressed a finger to his lips, and he stopped breathing. Seconds later, bits and pieces of his fur fell off of him like dust in the wind…

Hopping off the sink, she made sure her movements were lithe, and she eagerly left the chemical smell and returned to the table. During that short time away, their food had indeed arrived, and Mhynt gladly returned to her seat with a quick hop.

Leph looked unamused, staring. The Treecko, in response, took her first extra crispy wing, savoring the taste. It really was crispy. Good crunch. Just the right flavors to balance it out. No wonder the bar was so popular. Crunch, crunch.

“You aren’t going to explain yourself, are you?” Leph asked.

“Hm?” Mhynt tilted her head.

“Can I have some?” Aster whispered.

“I’m far too small for all of this,” Mhynt said, gesturing for Aster to go ahead. “By the way, we should leave soon. Have we paid?”

“I paid in advance,” Leph confirmed, a small pouch levitating next to her to reveal a small, glowing card inside.

Mhynt nodded back. “Good. The smell of this place is starting to get to me. Though, I will admit, the food is good. But I’d much rather enjoy it at home.” They even had the courtesy of putting the food in some to-go boxes. Wonderful. Maybe they just didn’t want more tables to clean, or they wanted fresh customers to occupy them.

Just as they were finished packing up, a high-pitched scream sounded from the bathroom, calling the attention of about half of the patrons. The huge doors to the larger washroom opened, but no large creature emerged. Instead, it was a disoriented, frightened, confused Teddiursa covered in dust, staring at his paws like he was in a nightmare.

“I suppose that’s our time to leave,” Mhynt said, closing her box. “Let’s go.”

<><><>​

Mhynt was not sure where Leph and Aster had gone after their fun at the bar. They had gone back, business as usual, spoke to a few guards, asked why that Swampert was still swimming around the lake, and then headed back to their quarters. Mhynt had a lot to think about, mostly to do with what Leph had told her. A rebellion, really? Centered right in Cipher City, where Alexander’s influence was the strongest? She wasn’t going to believe that, but the reason behind telling her in the first place interested her. Leph wouldn’t be coming up with some false narrative just to throw her off without any good reason. No, in fact, this sounded more like a setup.

Leph had been ordered to say that, and then Aster had been told to keep quiet. It was the only way it made sense. This was a test from Alexander. So, with that in mind, it was trivial enough to know what to do next—tell Alexander and throw Leph under. On her way to Alexander’s quarters, she’d tried to find where Leph and Aster had gone, but for some reason she was unable to find them.

Leph’s door was askew down the long hall. There was a table that had been overturned, when she leaned over to take a look at what was in her room. Not good. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time that Aster had gone in to pester her, only to get an angry Judgement in response. But this time, Mhynt didn’t think that was the case.

More likely, they were ordered to avoid her until she turned them in, like a sort of test to make sure she wouldn’t ask for more information and get it wrong, or catch them in a lie. But there was still a sinking feeling in her gut that they’d been sent off to another mission, which would leave her alone with Alexander. And she hated nights like those.

Mhynt shook her head. Time to see Alexander. She had no choice.

The halls on this floor of the castle were ornate with regal blues and purples. Black stone was the dominant color, and it narcissistically represented the Hydreigon’s natural colors. There were even flecks of red here and there, like his eyes would be watching her no matter where she went. He wasn’t omnipresent, but he certainly liked to give off that impression.

“Your Darkness,” Mhynt said, rolling her eyes. She knocked on the door, knowing that at this hour he would be awake. But she always made sure to keep her knocks gentle, so he didn’t have a reason to yell at her for being too loud.

One problem with Hydreigon is that she had no way to tell where he was in the room. His wings made no sound when flying, and his levitation meant no footfalls. Maybe he enjoyed that small twinge of paranoia it gave her. For all she knew, he was down the hall. Her scales felt colder behind her and she spared a glance back. Nothing.

After a long while, Alexander finally answered. “Enter.”

Because he wanted to make it all the more inconvenient. These doors were meant for large Pokémon. At least she could conjure a Shadow for that. She held her hand up; over her shoulders, the silhouette of a Sceptile appeared and mimicked the motion. She pressed forward and the Sceptile did the same, pushing the door open, before disappearing. Mhynt stepped through and regarded Alexander’s room idly while he rose from his desk.

This was his bedroom. It was big enough that Mhynt could make a large house and yard for herself out of the square feet, and probably have a little shed for Aster, too. Near the back of the room was a large bed fit for a king, obviously, with enough pillows to satisfy Groudon himself. They towered over themselves, and Alexander must have recently toyed with them, because a few had been torn open and shredded. Mhynt wondered what he did in his sleep.

“This had better be important,” Alexander said, checking his badge for the message she had sent. It was a curt, businesslike one, simply that she had to speak with him, nothing more.

“Yes,” Mhynt said. “I wanted to report to you about a rebellion effort.”

Alexander’s scaly brows furrowed. “And you didn’t quash it immediately?”

“I did not know its full headquarters nor did I know the full extent of it. I was hoping to gather more information… and to inform you of it quickly. The participants involved made the circumstances… strange.”

“Strange? Who are they?”

“Aster and Leph. With Leph as the leader. Or, at least a figurehead. I do not know how they managed to do that without your detection until now, nor do I know how even I did not see it, but they disclosed it to me during an excursion into the city. They were careful to evade any possible retainers that you sent along with them, as well. They had planned to inform me of this in a coordinated manner. In fact, I would not be surprised if they had some kind of contingency should I have disagreed, not that I am confident in their ability to apprehend me.”

She’d rambled for longer than she should have. That would make her seem nervous. She hid her irritation with a firm stare. “I seek your advice on what to do next.”

Alexander listened with an amused smile. “They really thought that, did they?”

“I believe so. They appeared to be genuine; while I would not put such a prank past Aster, Leph was the one leading the discussion.”

“I see. Well, Mhynt, that is wonderful. I had suspected for a while that they were planning something; that is why I took the liberty of going ahead and apprehending them preemptively. When you told me that you wanted to speak to me about something… yes. I was certain that it would have had to do with them.”

“Apprehended?” Mhynt repeated, keeping her tone as even as possible.

Alexander grinned even more, a malevolent twinkle in his dark eyes. “Follow me. It’s time you saw them.”

Alexander drifted out of his room, his tail flicking in the air. He did that when he was eager, excited. She hated that. So many horrible memories. But she knew how to disguise those emotions, even from Alexander, as they continued through the halls. Down the spiral staircase with the red and purple carpet that looked like rotten blood. Down the darker, duller halls that were decorated far less. Where the windows stopped appearing because they’d gone underground, and where the damp air made Mhynt’s scales wither on reflex.

They walked along the dungeon’s first floor. Metal bars glowed softly with the aura of Protect energy, meant to nullify any elemental attempts of whoever was there. The air inside some of the inactive cells smelled vaguely of nullifying gas. Not potent enough to have an effect anymore, but she was certain that particularly troublesome Pokémon would get it. After taking a few glances at some of the Pokémon sitting inside, she decided instead to keep her gaze forward. Some of them looked malnourished; others still had wounds on them. A few looked like little more than lumps of darkness, as if Alexander had descended upon them on a whim. He probably had.

In the very back, as Mhynt tuned out the groans and whimpers of some of the dungeon Pokémon, Mhynt realized Alexander was leading her to a door that was closed off by solid, glowing metal. A high security room that not even she would be able to break out of with much ease.

An Inteleon—Qitlan—was standing right next to it, looking at something on his badge until they’d arrived.

“Hello, Mhynt,” Qitlan greeted with a bow. “How interesting to see you a second time today. Usually, we don’t cross paths often. Sometimes I think you schedule lunches around me.”

“Don’t be silly.” She did. “Are you here tormenting someone else? Star is down the other hall.”

“Oh, I’m giving her a break for now,” Qitlan said. “There’s something much more interesting behind here. Your Mightiness?”

“Open it.”

“As you wish.” With a few taps on his badge, he pressed the device next to the door, which slid open. There was a second door on the other side, keeping whoever was in the main chamber completely trapped. Once they passed through again, the door closing behind them, Mhynt saw what she’d been expecting, and dreading.

Tied in chains, energy and elements suppressed, and pinned uncomfortably against the walls, were Leph and Aster. Both looked exhausted, but uninjured; they’d been here for a few hours.

“All over a mere suspicion?” Mhynt asked Alexander.

“They’re rarely wrong.”

“Mhynt…” Aster winced, like speaking was a strain to him. His voice was raspy. “What’s going on? I don’t get it…”

Leph said nothing, but she was staring at Alexander with a seething hatred.

“It seems pretty clear to me what should be done here, Mhynt,” Alexander said. “What do you think?”

Mhynt stared at Alexander with her usual, blank face. Her yellow, reptilian eyes then trailed to Leph, then Aster. He, in particular, looked at her with desperate, confused, hopeful eyes, all at once.

“I agree,” Mhynt said. “All this time, they had been preparing for an overthrow. To be this far into their ranks, there is no telling how much they have leaked to them. And how much more they will leak.”

“W-wait, I don’t—”

“Enough, Aster,” Leph said quickly. “Don’t… say anything.”

“But—”

“Silence,” Alexander hissed, pointing one of his smaller heads toward the Mewtwo. A chain of darkness shot from its mouth and into Aster’s throat, coiling around it and squeezing. His eyes bugged out and he tried to breathe; he only let go once Alexander was sure he’d lost his voice again.

Mhynt flicked her hand; from the darkness, an empty Honedge appeared and placed itself in Mhynt’s right hand.

And then, with a low rumble, Alexander said, “Kill them.”

Mhynt moved deftly. She began her motion with a crouch, and then she’d disappeared, snapping in front of Aster just as her upward swing completed, cleaving him in two. Aster didn’t even have time to react, and her blade was coated in his blood and the dim glow of light and shadow. Mhynt was surprised at how easy it was; Alexander must have weakened him considerably.

Leph cried something. Mhynt didn’t hear it over the sound of her blade cleaving the stone behind Aster’s body.

Mhynt hopped back and shook her blade, spattering excess blood on the wall.

Something golden shined behind the wall. Tendrils of darkness jutted forward and around Aster’s halves, pressing them together. The body stitched itself back, leaving a fading, black line where Mhynt had cut, Aster’s face frozen in unaware horror.

And then, he blinked, and gasped, and tried to break free on reflex. He cried from the overwhelming phantom pains.

Leph screamed, “MHYNT! YOU—”

“Was that all you wanted?” Mhynt asked Alexander, annoyed.

“Well, well.” Qitlan idly clapped. “She didn’t even hesitate, Your Greatness.”

“She didn’t.” Alexander grinned again, lowering until he was closer to the Treecko’s level. “Tell me, how did that feel? I’m sensing… something from you that’s unpleasant.”

“Yes. I’m annoyed.” It was a lie; she was terrified. That could have gone horribly, and she’d taken a gamble with Aster’s life. But there was simply no way Alexander would want to dispose of Aster so readily, let alone Leph. None of it had added up unless it was all a ploy. So now, she had to keep with the act. Her heart threatened to explode.

“Annoyed?” Alexander asked, looking briefly and genuinely confused.

Good. She could lull him in. “I have a report to do, and I am being pulled aside to not-kill a not-treasonous person. I don’t have time for torture. Leave it to an underling. This is beneath me.”

“Ah. Of course.” Alexander nodded, looking entertained. Perhaps he’d even laugh later. “Well, Mhynt, since it’s fine now, I’ll tell you. I ordered Leph to fabricate a story about a rebellion, and then she would report to me on how you reacted. This was a test.”

“What did I do to question my loyalty?” Mhynt said with a bite to her tone.

Alexander raised his smaller heads disarmingly, but he still grinned, like he had all the cards. “It was just a suspicion that your drive wavered after seeing… him again. After what happened with Aster, I had to be sure, after all.”

“The Owen I knew is dead,” Mhynt spat. “Nothing will bring him back. He lives only as memories. What he became now is…” She was giving away too many genuine emotions. Stopping herself, she turned away. “There is nothing to salvage. My loyalty continues to be toward Cipher City and you.”

“Then you really were caught off guard?” Qitlan asked, still leaning against the wall. “I find that surprising, considering how easily you complete just about any other mission or target we throw at you.”

“Alexander would know better than you that Owen is a unique subject, along with any allies he enchants.”

“Yes. He has the same properties as Mhynt,” Alexander said.

“Actually,” Mhynt added, raising her blade before dispelling it. “I forgot to mention something during by verbal report. It is going to be in my written synopsis. Owen has lost his power over darkness. It has atrophied.”

“Hmm.” Alexander’s tail flicked again. “Then perhaps he isn’t a threat after all…” Alexander hummed. “But weakened does not mean gone. Dark Matter is there, too.”

Mhynt nodded. “He may be trying to reawaken that power. If it is, then he will become a threat again. However… Owen does not realize this. He intends to defeat Dark Matter.”

As Mhynt spoke, Alexander’s grin—all three heads—grew wider. “That is our time to strike,” he said. “Qitlan. Unbind the two. Mhynt, finish your report. I will be making arrangements to time our assault for when Dark Matter is at his weakest.”

He drifted out of the dungeon.

“In one swoop, we will eliminate two of our greatest threats.”

The door shut, leaving Mhynt alone with Qitlan, Aster, and Leph. She spared a glance back at them, out of Qitlan’s vision, and flashed an apologetic frown. But then, she hardened it again, and faced Qitlan. “Clean them up. I have a report to finish.”

“Of course.” Qitlan gazed at Mhynt. “But do not think I am fooled, Mhynt. I know you still have feelings for Owen. Don’t let that shake your loyalty. Otherwise…”

“I’m aware.” Mhynt stepped past him, pushing the dungeon door open. “Goodbye. Also, if it is true that Leph and Aster are still allies… I expect you will not treat them in the same way you are treating Star.”

“You have my word. I intend to only free them.” Qitlan flashed two glowing cards in his hand. “Speaking of which, you asked if you could see Star. After all you’ve done… why not? Pay a visit. Perhaps you can get more information from her.” Qitlan tossed Mhynt a third card, this one heavier than the two meant for the chains.

“Thank you.” With a flick of her wrist, the card disappeared. “I will do that after my report.”

She walked through the dungeon, silently pondering her options. She’d escaped that test unscathed, but at what cost? She could only pray that Aster and Leph would understand when it was all over. And soon, it would be. Soon… she hoped. But to whom she hoped, she no longer knew. Perhaps it was just to the aether.

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 116 – Call of the Void​

Owen had a few reasons for going to the bathhouse that Zena worked. For one, he wanted to see what kind of lives Pokémon had in Null Village properly, now that he was out of the evaluation room. Along with that, he wasn’t sure if Zena was tolerating possible mistreatment at work; something about the place gave him a bad feeling, just from how she’d talked about it at home. If he could help her see that, or at least ease the burden if he worked with her, perhaps that would be enough. And lastly, he needed to clear his head someplace that wasn’t right by his reduced shell of a mother.

The bathhouse was further down the road, along a street that still had small signs of that battle in the skies between Migami and Aster. That felt like such a short time ago, and Owen reminded himself that he had been dormant for longer than he remembered.

Plumes of steam constantly blew out from the bathhouse, which was blocked off by a thin curtain. Owen wondered, if the facility they were in had baths and wash areas, did some homes not? Or was this more of a communal thing? As Owen’s mind wandered, they headed inside, where a Carnivine with a kind smile and seething eyes greeted them.

“Ah, Zena!” Carnivine greeted with a saccharine bite. “You’re here earlier than expected!”

“Yes, I’m sorry for calling late,” she said. “I was able to finish what I had to do early. I can take up my shift now.”

“Wonderful, wonderful!” Carnivine brought his leafy arms together.

Something about this Pokémon made Owen’s feathers rise defensively.

“Well, and who is this? The one you need to guard?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if it’s a bother.”

“He is… a bit odd looking. I’ve never seen a Pokémon like him before.”

“I’m a southern Charmander.”

“Oh! My apologies.” Carnivine bowed his massive head, his whole body floating up and down with the momentum. “Well, it’s a bit unorthodox, but if he’d like to help sort towels and assist with cleaning, I’d be happy to pay him for the day.”

“I can do that,” Owen agreed, wanting to give Zena as little trouble as possible.

“Good, good! Then, Zena, why don’t you get ready? I’d like to talk with you before you start working.”

For a fraction of a second, Owen felt a pang of fear from Zena. He wasn’t sure how he knew that. The way she tensed, perhaps? But then it was gone, and she steeled herself.

“Yes,” Zena said, “of course. Owen?”

“Right that way,” Carnivine said, gesturing to the left, in an area that had a misty sign that said ‘Employees Only.’

Zena followed Carnivine across the hall to the other side, into her office. As she passed, a few patrons stared at her, and one asked a receptionist at the front when she was going to be available. Available, for what? Just to tend to the baths?

Zena slithered around one of the early customers, giving him a stiff smile. The customer returned it with a hungry grin, passing by much slower, taking up part of the hall. Zena had to squeeze by, and he apologized for taking up all the space, but the Nidoking was smirking. The back of Owen’s head felt hot, feathers puffing out, but Zena glanced at Owen—like she knew—and shook her head placatingly.

He held his breath. One, two, three. An old mutant instinct told him ways to attack. Four, five, six. But he knew he shouldn’t do that.

Clearing his mind, Owen hesitantly made his way through the halls on the opposite end, careful not to get stepped on. Navigating the way through the employee only area was easy enough, and soon he found his way to the laundry room, where towels upon towels waited to be loaded up for washing. He’d never seen so many in one place, and some of them looked filthy, purple and red with void dust. Maybe that was why Pokémon went here—so they didn’t have to spend the time cleaning it themselves.

A Gardevoir passed by Owen and his heart leapt in his throat. On reflex, he looked up, but saw that she had green hair, and a different face, and he winced, feeling like an idiot to even consider it. She was at home, in a cage. She was gone.

“Oh, sorry, kid—wait. What’re you doing here?” The Gardevoir’s voice was harsh and she leaned over. “Can’t you read?”

“I-I’m not a kid,” Owen said.

“Look like one. Even the ones who died don’t look young like you.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m a Charmander.”

Gardevoir looked his leafy body over, then rolled her eyes. “If it makes you feel better.” She turned and headed down the hall. “What, you a new hire?”

“For the day. I’m here with Zena. We’re courting.”

“Oh, her.” Gardevoir grunted. A Lopunny, Braixen, and Vaporeon giggled with one another.

“What?” Owen asked.

“Nothing. She’s just new. To the Voidlands, too, obviously.” Lopunny sighed, shaking out void dust from a crumpled towel before tossing it to a tub in front of Vaporeon, who washed it down with a jet of water.

“She is. We came here only a few weeks ago.”

“Mmhm. She thinks she’s above it all, but we’ll see how that lasts.” Gardevoir twisted one of the washed towels with Psychic energy before lobbing it next to Vaporeon for another cycle.

“Above it all?” Owen repeated.

“Are you just gonna stand there? Help out!” Vaporeon growled.

“S-sorry! Where, what, is there a place to—uff!”

A pile of towels covered Owen in several layers. Once he struggled his way back out, he saw Braixen standing in front of him, tapping a blackened, wooden stick on her arm. “Fold those. Just got done drying it off.”

Owen shuffled to a free spot in the laundry room, which was starting to feel cramped even for his size, as Braixen started to load up more damp towels from the basin.

After getting into a decent rhythm with folding towels several times his size, Owen went on to ask, “What’s wrong with Zena?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Gardevoir hummed. “Nothing’s wrong with her. I’m not gonna say your girlfriend is some horrible person. She just needs time to fit in, that’s all. Milotic from the living world are always like that, y’know. Prim and proper and elegant because that’s how they need to be. But here in the Voidlands, white scales don’t last.”

“I don’t understand. Do you mean that this, the, uh, the way everything is so harsh here, you’re saying it’ll… change her?”

“That’s how the world works, child,” Vaporeon said.

“I’m not—“ Owen stopped. “I get it. Okay.”

“Still, she’s getting us some extra profit, so that’s nice,” commented Braixen, slapping another damp towel on the pile before frowning at the next one, tossing it back into the tub. Vaporeon scowled, like she was offended her cleaning wasn’t good enough.

“Extra profit?”

“Oh, easily. Milotic like her?” Gardevoir twisted another towel and tossed it over Vaporeon’s head. “Sure, they don’t last all that long, but that elegance is a rare sight. People have been paying just to have a look at her, not that she reciprocates. A shame. We’d probably get more if she did. But that’s part of the purity act, I guess.”

Owen’s stomach twisted in knots. He stopped folding briefly, but Braixen slapped his head with her stick and he quickly continued. “Isn’t this just a bathhouse?”

“Here’s the thing, Charmander, yeah, this is a bathhouse, but it’s the sort that people come here just to wash up and get some company, you know?” Braixen sighed. “Not sure if you noticed, but the boss has a certain taste in who he hires. Hmph, and apparently Milotic is getting paid more than me and she just started…”

“I see…”

“What?” Braixen growled. “Don’t get judgmental on us, here.”

“No, I’m not! I—it’s just not something I think Zena would—er, I mean, Milotic would be interested in.”

“The money probably got her interested,” Braixen said. “If she just got here, she’s probably desperate to get some kind of established home and shelter.”

“Heh, that’s how they get ya.” Gardevoir shrugged. “It’s not that bad of a job, when you get down to it. We’ve got protections. And if any of the guests decide they want more than they paid for, the girls here know how to rough someone up.”

Braixen and Vaporeon both smirked.

“Next load!” Lopunny grunted, tossing another pile of towels near Vaporeon. “Watch out for that top one. A very fine guest used it.”

“Oh, gods,” Vaporeon groaned, “please don’t tell me it was the Skuntank.”

“Okay, I won’t.” Lopunny left again.

The conversation died away, the smell of that towel too distracting for anything else. Owen got into a calming routine with his folding to help distract himself until that smell went away, and he felt almost meditative. He could think about other things. Zena and what she was doing worried him… but he could see how she felt about it when they were home. She agreed to him coming for a reason. Maybe she wanted a second opinion?

A stray thought crossed his mind and he tried to concentrate, folding blindly.

Are you there? He waited for a response.

Silence at first, and he moved onto a second towel, then a third.

Owen? replied a familiar voice.

He smiled. Hey. Sorry if you’ve been in silence for a while.

Oh, it’s all right, Klent said. We were resting.

How’s Amelia?

She’s fine. We’re… vaguely aware of what you’ve been through. The memories are coming to me now. How awful…

Yeah… But it’s not so bad. I think we’re going to defeat him soon.

Mm.

That was an odd response. Something wrong with that?

I’d ask you the same. You sound conflicted about it, and there’s no hiding that from me, you know.

Right. Klent, Amelia, all the other spirits must have felt what he felt, no matter where he was. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Owen said. I don’t want to slip back into following what everyone else wants, but now that I can actually try to make a choice, I’m… lost. M-maybe Dark Matter was right about that. Maybe I’m just… built to follow directions.

Now, Owen, that’s not—

No, I’m not gonna do that, Owen replied quickly. He’s right. That is how I’m built. But I need to move past that. I need to… make choices for myself. I just don’t know what yet…

I see… And were you asking for opinions? Not choices, just opinions.

The way Klent spoke so delicately… He was trying not to press. Trying to give Owen the opportunity to choose for himself. It was patronizing… but he appreciated it anyway.

What do you think? Owen asked.

I think no matter what alliance you may have had with him, Dark Matter lost his way, Klent said. You surely don’t want Kilo destroyed. And you surely don’t want some eternal darkness, either. If you can choose to fight against it…

I don’t want that, Owen agreed. I just wonder if…

Klent didn’t answer. Owen felt a new presence bubbling up—Amelia, this time. You’re trying to save Dark Matter, huh? Just like Anam?

It sounded silly when it was told back to him. Yeah.

Well, we want to help, but you gotta figure out how to do that, first. He’s kinda bent on world destruction right now.

Right. He sighed. I’m thinking about ways to help, but I have no idea. I have a backup plan if he really does try to kill me, or something, but… I don’t want to give that away so soon.

Yeah, we won’t tell, Amelia assured dismissively. But I’m more worried about what everyone else will think if you went off to see him alone.

Yeah… Owen sighed.

“Hey, you okay?” Vaporeon asked.

“Huh?!” Owen had forgotten he was working. “Y-yeah, sorry.”

“Look, if you’re worried about Milotic, don’t be. She’s probably got some toughness in her. We all know what happened by that big tree and how she fended off that weird guy! Word spreads fast, y’know.”

“That weird guy,” Owen said. “You mean Dark Matter.”

“Pbbbt, sure.” Vaporeon laughed. “Good one. I mean, with how creepy he was, he may as well have been.”

Maybe it was better they didn’t know.

Braixen cursed and slammed her stick on a strange machine in the corner of the room.

“S-something wrong?” Owen asked nervously.

“It’s this blasted—look. My fire power is good, but I use a fire crystal for a conduit to keep the distribution even. See?” She opened a lid on the side of the machine, revealing a red crystal under the top of the machine with the symbol of an ember in the middle. “Keeps it controlled. But it’s starting to go out, but Boss doesn’t want to replace it, saying it still works. I’m tempted to break it myself, but…” She sighed. “Then we’ll go without a regulator and that’s no good.”

“Can I take a look?” Owen offered.

“What’re you gonna do?” Braixen asked skeptically.

He stepped away from his folded towels and climbed into the chamber.

“Hey, careful,” Braixen said. “Those things can get kinda volatile if you mess with them.”

“I know. I’m… a crystal technician before I died, or something kind of like it.” He tapped at the symbol, thoughtful. “Yeah, I think I see what’s wrong with it.”

“Really? Just like that?” Braixen asked, trying to look inside, but Owen shooed her off, muttering something about concentrating. She scowled and turned away.

The coast clear, Owen channeled some energy into the crystal. Not enough to fully power it, but enough to make it more like those inert ones in the wall. Then, he pulled back. “Okay. It’s fixed. But I can tell you now, it won’t last longer than a few more moons—uh, months. You’ll have to get a replacement soon or it might start a real fire.”

“Tell Boss that,” Braixen dismissed, but then tapped her stick on the machine skeptically. She tossed a few towels in, pressed her stick again, and the machine hummed satisfyingly. She gasped. “I don’t believe it! It’s practically good as new!”

The light in her eyes made it impossible for Owen to hide his smile.

“Oh, I—thank you!” She beamed. “This’ll make things so much easier.”

“He-hey, can you fix this one, too?” Vaporeon pointed at the basin. “I dry out like five times faster without the crystal helping me, and it’s totally busted.”

Owen did the same process as before, channeling a tiny bit of energy into the crystal when they weren’t looking. When Owen hopped out, the tub itself filled automatically with crystal-clear water. Vaporeon, thrilled, looked like she had half a mind to hop inside.

“Well, look at that. We’ve got ourselves a repairman on the job.” Gardevoir giggled, and it reminded Owen of Amia briefly. He glanced away, hiding a grimace.

“Really, though, thanks,” Vaporeon said. “Guess Milotic got lucky with you after all.”

“H-ha, yeah…”

“A shame,” Braixen hummed. “Wouldn’t mind someone like you around the house.”

“Uh.”

“What’s going on in here?” Carnivine called, floating into the room.

“Looks like your one-day employee is a repairman.” Gardevoir gestured to Owen. “Fixed up the crystals!”

“Really?” He looked down at Owen, his massive jaws twisting into something of a pensive stare. “How about that.”

“You should replace them soon before they get volatile,” Owen said, and it was only a half-lie. He wouldn’t be around to replenish them again. “You have maybe a month before it’s too risky.”

There was a disinterested light in Carnivine’s eyes, but he nodded amicably. “Of course, of course,” he said. “Thank you, Charmander. Now, about Milotic…”

“Yeah?”

“I want to know why she was off galivanting with you this morning. Now, I know that you’ve recently passed and are probably thrilled you were able to stay together even in the Voidlands, but that’s no excuse to shirk work!”

And this is my problem, slimeball? Owen thought.

This guy reeks of bad news, Amelia commented, and Owen didn’t realize he’d left that connection open. No, he liked this.

“Yeah,” Owen said. “She was doing something important. It’s a classified assignment.”

“Classified? Classified how? She doesn’t seem like someone too important.”

Owen’s feathers puffed out.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Of course, to you, she’s important.” He wrapped his leafy arms together pacifyingly, radiating a false smile. “But I meant in terms of… to Null Village.”

“She and I work with Marshadow and others at his rank,” he said. “I’m one of the lead crystal technicians in the village,” he continued, a total lie. Probably. “But I also have some authority besides that. For example, I was part of the rescue operation for Dialga and Palkia.”

That caught Carnivine’s attention. Suddenly, he seemed nervous. “Well, what’re you doing here, then?”

“Mission finished early. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Y’know, forgive me for asking,” Carnivine added a little hastily, “but how is someone as weak-looking as you part of a rescue operation for a lost Legend?”

“Want to find out?” Owen asked.

“I, uh, you, uh, what?” Carnivine sputtered. “How would you… prove that?”

“That tree in the middle of town.”

“The one that messed up the sewage system for a little while? Yeah, I know it.”

“That’s warding off Dark Matter as we speak. It’s filled with the same energy that makes up those crystals, but as a constant aura. It gave this village the sky back.”

“Yeah, that… that was nice, but what’s that got to do with you?”

“I made it.”

“Hah!” Carnivine instantly relaxed. “And here I thought you were actually someone to worry about! Well! Sure, kid. You created the second Tree of Life. Why not? Next, you’re gonna tell me you’re Necrozma’s disciple, just like Elite Mhynt!”

Owen clicked his tongue, then walked toward the room’s exit, gesturing for Carnivine to follow. Maybe this show of power would be useful. As far as Owen was concerned, everyone who he didn’t want to know he was here—Alexander, Mhynt, and Dark Matter—already knew. There was no harm in letting more people know. He suspected that Mhynt and her team would return to take the Tree somehow, and he couldn’t have that. Drawing attention away from the Tree and spreading rumors that he was back again… Yes. This would be a good thing.

Geez, Owen, how many steps ahead are you thinking here? Amelia asked.

Even if we can beat Dark Matter, Owen replied, it’s Alexander I’m worried about. And we can’t have him harming the Tree. If he wants me, I want him to think I’m not in it.

They made it outside. He had a small audience, and on the way, he asked if Vaporeon or the others had a lunch that had a fruit or a berry to work with. There was, as it turned out, a spare Oran that he could work with. That would do.

He made a small hole a few feet away from the bathhouse. By the time he was done, his claws covered in purple soil, Zena had emerged from the bathhouse to observe with several patrons. They must have followed Zena, though their attention had peeled away from her and toward the strange, green Charmander playing in the dirt.

“Why’re we all watching this?” asked one, frowning.

“He’s apparently going to do some kind of magic trick.”

“No, he made the Tree of Life in town.”

“That kid? Please.”

“I mean, have you seen him around?”

Owen perked up. “Zena!” He grinned, waving.

Zena flinched; all eyes turned to her. Owen gestured for her to come closer and she did, quickly.

“Owen, what are you doing?” Zena whispered. “We were supposed to keep ourselves quiet.”

“That won’t work,” Owen explained. “Everyone who wanted to know where I am already knows. I need to get their attention so they don’t hurt the Tree.”

“What? Why? What’s so important about it?”

“The town likes it.”

Zena squinted, but then sighed. “You’ll tell me later.”

Good, she understood. Owen gestured to the soil. “Can you put some water over this?” he asked once he put the Oran inside and filled it with dirt again.

“Any special kind?” Zena hummed, a faint glow coursing through her scales.

“Yeah. Put on a show.”

Zena frowned pensively. “What is this for?”

“I have an idea on how to get you out of here, if you want.”

Murmurs around them… “Is she glowing?”

“I knew Milotic were radiant, but I didn’t think that was literal…”

“Can I touch her scales?”

“Careful, she froze the last guy who tried…”

Owen glanced at the patron who said that, then glanced at Zena with a quirked, feathery brow. Zena tittered in response, but Owen only smiled, proud.

Damp soil and an Oran in the ground, Owen placed his hands on the dirt and closed his eyes. By now, the performance had garnered attention from several others in the streets, even nearby buildings. Crowds formed and a few guards came to check if a fight had broken out, only to get caught up in the same curiosity.

When Owen channeled this energy—both of Grass and of Radiance—he felt a little closer to the spirits he housed. A little closer to Necrozma. Taking advantage of the last time he’d done something like this, he tried to reach out.

Are you there? Necrozma? Can you hear me?

He didn’t really think it would work, that he would get a reply.

Whenever you’re able to, I want to talk to you. It’s about Dark Matter. I know what he said is true, so I want to hear what you have to say back. The part of me aligning with him. I don’t know why I can’t remember that, and I think you do. Talk to me when you can. Okay?

No reply. Owen opened his eyes; before him was an Oran bush several times his height. The leaves glowed a brilliant, prismatic color, like the back of a Technical Machine, or Zena’s scales under the sunlight. The rainbow, pastel-like colors reminded Owen of Fae, Fae Forest, back when they’d rescued Willow. And within the bush, dotting the branches generously, were several Oran Berries that had a soft glow to them. Owen recognized them immediately as enchanted, the same way Anam could.

So, he really did have that same power. Dormant all this time, awakened only after he remembered…

Owen’s gaze trailed to the Tree that towered over Null Village, aware of the gawking crowd only moments after. “Uh, here’s your berry back, um, Vaporeon.” Owen picked one and handed it to her, though she was too stunned to say her thanks when she took it. “Is it time for our lunch break?” Owen asked Carnivine.

“Wh, uh, sure. Yeah. Uh. Yeah. S-so you really are with that authority, then? The… with Marshadow, and rescuing Dialga and Palkia.”

Owen nodded. “Why? Is that a problem?”

“Well, no, no, not a problem at all! But I must ask, er, what were you concerned with regarding, regarding your, with your, the stay, with—my establishment?”

“Yeah, I did,” Owen said with a thoughtful nod. “I think you should consider how you treat your employees. You wouldn’t want an inspection to find anything questionable, would you?”

“Of, of course! I take wonderful care of my employees!”

Owen made a glance at Vaporeon, Braixen, and Lopunny. All three shrugged and nodded. Owen hummed, then looked at Zena. “I guess that’s all for this berry bush. Take care of it, alright? Those berries are strong.”

“There is something different about it,” Vaporeon admitted. “What… is it?”

Owen picked a few. “Something that I think would be good to give to the guards once I grow more. I have enough energy to do that a few times a day… Zena, want to get lunch together?”

“Oh!” Zena nodded. “Yes, if I can take my lunch with him…”

Carnivine didn’t object. Perhaps he was afraid to.

“I’m going to go around town.” He glanced at one of the guards. “I need to head back to see Marshadow. Can you take me there?”

“Er, well, I’m not sure where he is…”

“The evaluation building is fine.” With that out of the way, he nodded at Zena and smiled. “Then, after work, we can have dinner together. How’s that sound?”

Zena’s coworkers all gave her mock-swooning gestures, to which she smiled and rolled her eyes. “I would love to.”

<><><>​

“Did I ever tell you that I’ve never actually been to Void Basin?”

For some reason, Leo was a lot more talkative than usual. Spice tried to ignore the Delphox’s ramblings, but with only herself and a few other squads for company—all spread out to cover more investigative ground—there wasn’t much else to catch her attention. There was, of course, the odd, black blobs that had spawned from the many-eyed leviathan guarding Kilo Village, but she didn’t like thinking about them, even as one followed their team.

So, the Salazzle relented and asked, “Is it because of the official restrictions?”

“Well, yes, but even when the Kingdom was still functional, it was forbidden, right?”

“Yeah. Though, I visited it all the time.”

“You did?! Then the rumors were false? They say that Pokémon who come here… go mad!”

“Sometimes they did. But I didn’t.” Spice shrugged. “And that Aerodactyl outlaw, Jerry? He didn’t, either.”

“Right, outlaw…” Leo’s ears drooped. “How far that family had fallen…”

“House of cards,” Spice said dismissively. “I won’t get into details, but behind the scenes, they didn’t have a happy relationship.”

“I see…” Leo shifted uncomfortably, and Spice knew why. They didn’t talk about it often, but Leo knew full well that she and Jerry used to be friends. Possibly more, had they gone different paths… had Jerry not fallen into his criminal lifestyle. Had she not assimilated into the rest of Kilo’s empire the way most of the Kingdom did.

But that was the past, so she shoved past it with a new topic. “You’re feeling alright, then?”

“So far.”

“And your wounds?”

“Oh, those are practically gone.” Leo patted his torso. “See? I don’t even need bandages anymore. Still, those mutant injuries… certainly can make even blessed healing difficult. Now that we’re short on those…”

Spice nodded. “A day in my life, huh?” With a smirk, she went on. “You know, I always wondered why.”

“Hm?”

“Why blessings simply didn’t work on me. Orans don’t have that same effect. I have to be incredibly careful since Revivers don’t, either.”

“Well, it goes to show how strong you are despite that. I can’t recall a single time where you’d been defeated in a Dungeon…”

Spice said nothing, glancing to her left, toward the ocean. The horizon was eternally black with the clouds of the Shadow Beast, as the town was calling it. Rhys claimed it was Lugia. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

“You still haven’t slept, have you?” Leo asked. Before Spice could growl back, he quickly amended, “I know, I know. I’m just asking. You’ve already proven that you’re fine without sleep.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Spice replied defensively. “Let’s drop it.”

“I will.”

It had been weeks. Pokémon died without sleep for this long. She felt perfectly fine. It was starting to scare her.

“Mmbb…”

“Can I help you?” Spice snapped, glancing behind her to see the three-eyed blob trailing after them. Spice hissed and walked faster. “Creepy thing already terrorized Angelo into silence. What do you want?”

“We really don’t know what happened, do we? They seemed friendly, but now Angelo refuses to talk to the one with him.”

“Maybe it ate a piece of art he was working on,” Spice grumbled.

The team to their left, consisting of a Lapras on his own conjured water and a Houndoom and Vileplume on his back, was a minute away. They were getting closer together. Accompanying those three was yet another Shade. That one seemed to only have two eyes, but they were mismatched.

Void Basin was unpredictable, but the approach was not, and they had been ordered to fan out to cover more ground for any suspicious triggers. Once they got closer to the crater’s edge, they would group back up to defend against anything odd.

It was all silly. There was nothing wrong with the place. What was really wrong was the Chasm to the east, where apparently Nate came from. Did the Basin ever house eldritch beings of incomprehensible size like the Chasm? No! That made it better by at least one order of magnitude.

The walk continued. Leo was starting to look nervous.

“You alright?” Spice asked.

“No, if I’m being honest,” Leo said. “I’m getting this horrible feeling…”

“We were just told to go to the edge,” Spice said. “We don’t have to go inside. It’s just to investigate something, maybe get some drawings—ahh, if Angelo wasn’t training, that might have been useful…”

Leo made an uncertain whine, and that’s when Spice knew he was actually nervous. Leo hated making noises that his feral counterparts did. Some kind of pride thing.

“If you’re not sure, you can stay back. It’s alright.”

“What? No,” Leo said. “I wouldn’t be much of a team leader if I sent you on your own.”

Spice wanted to roll her eyes, but her concern was stronger. “Tell me if you’re feeling weird, okay?”

They were a few minutes from the edge, now. Spice had a vague sense that someone was calling her from somewhere, but she ignored it. It wasn’t like it was beckoning her or tempting her or anything ominous. Maybe she was just paranoid.

Spice could see the other end of the crater and a bit of what was inside, but it was, expectedly, just more reddish-brown rock, barren of all life. Though, now that she thought about it, the rocks looked a shade more purple than usual.

“Stop!”

“Oh, what now?” Spice was about to turn back, but a green-black canine ran past her and spun. “Zygarde? Again? Where have you been?!”

“Investigating,” Zygarde said breathlessly. “Hello. You should turn back. This place is not safe.”

“Mmb!”

“Oh, now you tell us?” Spice hissed at the Shade.

“I have already sent one of my copies here and he has not returned; there is not even a trace of his body. Worse, his spirit did not return to the rest of us, either. A fragment of me is completely unaccounted for. This is unprecedented, and you should not continue. You may suffer the same fate.”

“Okay, we aren’t gonna go far,” Spice said. “It was just to investigate.”

“You’ve investigated enough. Turn back. It’s… the curse of this place is true. It is a restricted zone for a reason.”

Spice glanced at the other teams. Both other squadrons had a Zygarde lecturing them, too.

But that feeling of someone calling Spice was getting stronger. She furrowed her brow, wondering if she was starting to feel its effects after all. But, no, she didn’t feel drawn to the Basin. Someone was just calling her. She tried to focus on the voice.

She tuned out Zygarde’s warnings and the Shade’s gurgling.

Only the voice from the Basin. It felt unpleasant—she recognized it as Psychic energy, similar to Leo. But it also felt very far away.

Please…

Spice held her gasp, but crawled forward, despite Zygarde’s protests.

“Do you hear that?” Spice asked.

“Do not follow any impulses,” Zygarde said immediately. “You must turn back.”

“Im—impulses?” Leo said. “In… in what way? To be honest, it’s not as scary up close…”

Please, help… Is anyone there? I’m sorry… what did I do to deserve this?

“Someone needs help in there,” Spice said, slipping past Zygarde. He shifted his paws and tried to draw out green, arrow-shaped energy, but Spice immediately said, “Will you just wait?! Leo, stay back! It’s not safe for you!”

“No less safe than for you,” Zygarde warned.

“I’m immune, okay?!” Spice, with a frustrated growl, crawled the rest of the way toward the basin. Zygarde, for some reason, did not follow, and instead advised Leo to stay behind. The Shade accompanying them pinned itself on Leo’s fur, tugging him back with what might have been a mouth.

Satisfied they were letting her go, she gazed into the crater.

It was like an empty lake, or like a bowl had been carved out from the land, and then time was left to unevenly erode what was left. No grass, no trees. Spice found it nostalgic, because she liked gazing into that emptiness to think on her own. Nobody bothered her there.

But it seemed darker than usual. The red-brown rocks were more like purple, and a dust storm was kicking up near the center. Purple, faint twisters, visible from dust of the same color, spun and spun at the basin’s very center. That was also where the voice was coming from.

Spice tried to answer. Hello? Can you hear me?

Silence. She glanced back at the others. Zygarde and the Shade were stationary; Leo was getting anxious, asking to get closer to make sure Spice wouldn’t fall. Zygarde dug through Leo’s bag and told him to put on a rope, which he obeyed with a hint of reluctance.

Rolling her eyes, Spice refocused on the voice.

Please, someone, anyone. I can’t take it anymore. I… I just want it to be over. Please…

So this voice couldn’t hear Spice. She cursed under her breath, wondering if she should go further. No, that was too risky. But she would have to report back.

One more try. My name is Salazzle Spice. If you can hear me, tell me where you are.

This time, she tried to reach out as far as she could. Leo had tried telepathy like this with her before, using Psychic power. She was never any good at it, and telepathy in general—especially without a mutual Psychic—was spotty at best. But it was still worth trying.

All Spice heard was more of the same. It was more desperate this time, like her thoughts themselves were being interrupted by her real-world sobs. Spice’s claws dug into the stone. Someone was in trouble, and she was just going to walk away?

“Spice.” Leo’s hand touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Spice jerked her shoulder away, but then flinched at the crazed look in Leo’s eyes. “A-are you okay?”

“I’m fine. What do you hear?”

She regarded him for a breath, and then answered hesitantly. “A girl’s voice. Tiny voice. Maybe a powerful Psychic…”

Zygarde’s eyes dimmed. The Shade looked anxious, bobbing up and down, gurgling something urgently. Leo looked… wrong, somehow.

“Do you want to save her?” Leo asked. “I think we should go in and save her.”

And in that moment, Spice decided they had to retreat. “No, Leo. Come on. Let’s tell the others.”

“What? But someone needs to be rescued!”

“What happened to your fear, Leo?”

“I wouldn’t be a team leader if I was abandoning someone in need.”

“Your eyes are wild, Leo. We need to go back. Something’s wrong.”

Leo laughed. “I’m finally getting some courage, and now you’re the one with cold feet?” He gave her a toothy grin. “The basin isn’t so bad! Now that I’m looking at it… it really is just an empty crater.”

The other two teams were heading back. Their Zygarde escorted them, along with their respective Shades. Both squadrons were staring at them with worry.

“Leo, I want you to focus. Get that thought out of your head. Think back to a few minutes ago, okay?” Spice held his hand, clasping one in both of hers. “Remember when you knew this place was cursed?”

“I was wrong. And now we need to save someone.” Leo nodded, then gave her a confident smile. That wasn’t Leo’s smile. Something was twisting it, pulling it up by his lips. Was this still Leo?

“…What’s… your father’s name?”

Leo gave her an odd look. “Tari. Spice, what’s gotten into you? I…” There was a flash of recognition in Leo’s eyes.

Spice tried to latch onto that. “And we need to get back to them, right? Come on. We should—”

“I can’t go back to them and say we abandoned someone in need!” Leo shouted immediately. “Spice, as your leader, I’m ordering you to head down with me.”

“That’s enough,” Zygarde said, and then gave a mighty tug of the rope wrapped around Leo’s torso. Leo wheezed as the wind left his chest, but then he grasped the rope and channeled flames through his hands—to no effect. Leo’s rope, of course, was flame-proof. Instead, he gave a crazed look to Spice and, in a deft motion, flicked his other hand, the hand with his conjuring stick—

Spice was flying before she realized what had happened. The pain came later, first in her chest, then her head. And then she saw the ground far below her, and the crater’s edge rising higher and higher. Spice saw a green flash of Zygarde’s Thousand Arrows, but then she hit the rocks.

<><><>​

With a pained grunt, Spice rolled onto her back. Something was broken. Maybe her arm. Or her shoulder. Possibly a rib. She’d need to sleep that one off for a day or two.

Opening one eye, her vision didn’t change very much. The air smelled stagnant and damp, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Where did the sun go? The way her breathing echoed meant she was inside a solid building. The damp smell, some kind of basement?

Hadn’t she just been in the open air by the crater?

No, then she’d been pushed…

“Leo?!” Spice called, and was surprised at how much her voice echoed back at her. “What—”

Something growled and she heard footfalls. Her instincts told her to roll, narrowly avoiding a snarling beast that bit the air where she’d been. She kicked hard, then blasted a disorienting plume of poison forward. She hopped and her back slammed against a stone wall.

She couldn’t get a good look at what had attacked her. It was small and four-legged and dark. It jumped at her and she caught a glance of green and white hexagons just as she kicked it away again.

Zygarde. But why was she being attacked by him?

A heavy, metallic creak, like a huge, heavy door opening, caught both their attention. Spice was faster; she dug for her bag and found an iron spike. She hurled it toward Zygarde, landing a perfect shot at his upper foreleg. He yelped and Spice ran toward the door, cautious.

“Hey, careful!” Spice shouted. “There’s a feral—thing in here!” No time to explain beyond that.

Spice expected to see someone huge pushing open the door, but all she saw was the hallway. More dreary stone and only dim lights thanks to scattered crystals embedded in the ceiling.

It was a Treecko, staring curiously at her.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Treecko said.

“Yeah, I know!” Spice spat, but then realized she’d been ignoring Zygarde for too long. She spun back, but saw that it was only growling. “What’s gotten into him…?”

Treecko paced toward the beast, sighing.

“What’s your name?” Treecko asked.

“What’s yours?” Spice replied cautiously.

“I asked first.” She smiled wryly.

Alright. She could respect that. “Salazzle Spice.”

“Treecko Mhynt.” She took one step closer to the beast.

“Careful, he’s—”

Zygarde roared and lunged. Shadowy arrows conjured around his shoulders and fired toward Mhynt, leaving small slash marks wherever they hit the stone behind her. Mhynt didn’t flinch. Spice had no idea how none of those hit Mhynt.

The Treecko made a waving motion above her; at the apex, a Honedge appeared in her hands. Spice had no idea where she hid it. And then, Zygarde was right upon her, inches away—and then his roar was cut short. The blade protruded through his back, covered in a clear, dark fluid. The blade shined gently with a golden light.

“What did…” Spice trailed off, staring dumbly. That Treecko had singlehandedly…

Zygarde’s body burst in a plume of darkness that swirled around Mhynt, collecting in the blade like water down a drain. The blade darkened; the colors siphoned and collected near the empty, soulless eye of the Honedge’s hilt. A green teardrop grew and landed into Mhynt’s free hand, roughly the size of a baby apple. It reminded Spice of an emerald.

Treecko approached Spice—at some point, the blade disappeared, and Spice didn’t know when—and gestured for Spice to take it. She obeyed without thinking, briefly touching Mhynt’s hand. They were tough and scaly, much like hers, though there was a softness that Spice would never be able to replicate.

“What did you do?” Spice finally finished.

Mhynt seemed to make sure that Spice was holding the gem firmly before she actually let go, patting Spice’s hand for good measure.

“I have great power over spirits of this world. I can shape them and manipulate them as I wish. I have placed your friend in a dormant state while his spirit cleanses. Put him under the care of someone important to him. An acquaintance would do. When the time is right—and you will know—place the gem under soft, radiant light.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Someone in Kilo will.” Mhynt gestured toward the back of the room. “Go away.”

“How? I’d love to.”

“I will help. Hold that gem tight to your chest. It won’t be able to leave without your help.”

“Why?” Spice asked. “What’s going on?! Where am I?!”

Mhynt tilted her head. “You don’t know?” she asked. “But you’re…”

She didn’t finish. But the way her eyes glanced left, behind Spice, and then back at Spice again, she was thinking. This Treecko seemed like the kind of person to think a lot, to have her mind wander. Reminded her a lot of that regular Charmander customer when he was ordering chocolates.

Something flickered, like a shadow in the other hall, and Mhynt’s movements became more urgent. She pushed forward; something grabbed Spice by the shoulders. She only briefly saw what she thought was a Sceptile made entirely of black haze picking her up. It hurled her into the wall. Bracing for impact, she curled up and held the gem tight to her chest.

She gasped for air and suddenly felt uncomfortably hot, like she’d been baking in the sun. The air was dry. Her mouth tasted of iron. With a painful breath, she knew she was still alive and rolled onto her back, squinting at the sun and the crater’s edge high above her. A few things were broken. Definitely. But she was alive.

Had that all been a dream?

“Ugh… What’s…” She wondered if she’d fallen asleep, because she was starting to forget what that felt like, but no, she’d passed out from the fall. She heard some activity higher up.

“Hey!” Spice called. “Is anyone there?”

No answer. Whatever activity there was had gone quiet.

Growling, she searched for her bag. “Oh, for the love of—”

Scattered, smashed, most of her supplies ruined from the fall. Her edible vials had been destroyed or disorganized, but a few still seemed good. She grabbed an intact Oran infusion and bit down. It would ease the pain, even if the healing blessings didn’t work on her.

It seemed steep, but her nimbleness, even with one of her arms not totally cooperating, let her climb. She felt at home with the ground. The ground spoke to her, like she knew just where to step, and the idea that such a thing was strange didn’t occur to her until she was at the top. She’d heard that Ground Pokémon had this kind of affinity with soil at times.

“Hey,” Spice shouted, realizing that Zygarde, the shade, and some of the team wasn’t very far away. “Did you guys not hear me?! I nearly died! Leo! What’s gotten into—”

Spice ducked and rolled past a Hydro Pump from Lapras that had narrowly hit her. The water sailed into the crater.

“H-hey!” Spice shouted.

Zygarde was next, preparing many green arrows over his shoulders. Spice knew that one. She dashed forward and waved between the first volley, then crossed her arms for the next. A black Protect deflected every blow as she advanced.

“Guys, it’s me!” Spice shouted. “Hello?! What’s going on?!”

And to this, they all looked startled. They stared at one another, then back at Spice.

“What’s your name?” Zygarde asked.

“Spice. Is Leo okay?”

Leo had been staring at her for a while, but she noticed, now that she was closer, that his arms were tied up. There was a crazed look in his eyes.

“We need to leave this place,” Zygarde said. “You… How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling just fine,” Spice said, putting a hand to her chest. “But I—"

Her hand struck something hard and she looked down.

In her chest, embedded where her heart should have been, was an emerald gemstone surrounded by plate-like, hexagon scales.

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 117 – The Shell​

No matter how many times Spice ran her claws along her chest, the stone did not go away. She’d wondered if it was all a hallucination all the way back to Kilo Village, a long trek that had taken the bulk of the day. It was evening, now, in one of Kilo Village’s hospitals.

She was afraid to pry it off of her, and some core part of her instincts—an instinct she was sure she didn’t have before—told her that she shouldn’t ever try to remove it. This time, she listened. The sense of dread she felt at the thought was equivalent to removing her own heart.

Leo was next to her, restrained in powerful, glowing bindings while sitting on the adjacent bed. Currently in front of her, inspecting the gemstone, was Phol, who asked her several questions. How she was feeling, if this hurt, if that hurt; all of it felt mundane to her. They’d brought in a Psychic or two as well, and found Spice to be of sound mind, but they had trouble with Leo. His own psionics interfered with theirs, and they eventually said that he was not stable and needed to be put under observation.

The Basin’s effects were never this acute, not when they weren’t even within the crater. Had its influence expanded? Yet, the only ones who would have been able to warn them… Anam, perhaps, or even Jerry… They were gone.

“All right, Spice,” Phol said, “you seem to be healthy.” The Incineroar looked over his charts, flipping a few pages. “But I want you to visit every few days. Do you want me to set up an appointment?”

“Yes, please. I may not care about the whole sleep thing, but this… this is different.” She ran a claw around the emerald’s edge again.

“Mm. Of course. And, your appearance…”

Spice winced. “I don’t think I can face my family like this…”

“Hmph. Then I will go with you.”

“Sugar would be terrified, and her poor kid, I don’t really know if I want him to see…”

The gem wasn’t that bad. The hexagons were probably ‘cool’ on some level. But she’d seen her reflection upon her arrival. She wasn’t a Salazzle anymore. She had the vague shape of one, and when she looked with her own eyes, she seemed to be the same. But in her reflection, in the way she appeared to others, she looked like some kind of wraith. Her whole body had become a deep black; her eyes, featureless yellow lights.

Why, then, did she look normal to herself, yet not to anyone else? Was this some kind of curse?

“And about what you saw in the Basin,” Phol went on, humming. “Do you want me to make a copy of everything you said, so you can remember?”

“Yeah. Just so I don’t get it wrong. I need to put it to a report or something, maybe to Nevren when he gets back from his research.”

“Mm. The basement of some building, a powerful Treecko, and Zygarde in your chest. If I didn’t know you, I would have assumed you were coming up with some kind of elaborate prank.”

“I still don’t totally believe it,” Spice admitted. “If it wasn’t for this”—she gestured at the gem—“I would have thought it was all a dream.”

“Mm.” He nodded. “I’ll get you a copy. As for him…”

During this whole exchange, Leo’s eyes were darting between the speakers. Spice wasn’t sure if he had blinked. He looked simultaneously afraid and eager of… something.

“He’s… staying here.”

“Leo… can you answer me?” Spice asked.

“Answer?” Leo repeated, his voice raspy. He cleared it. “Why am I here? What’s all this for? Don’t we need to go to the Basin to rescue someone… We need to save that voice, don’t we? We’re wasting time…”

“We can only hope that time away from the Basin will let his mind heal,” Phol said gently. “He is in good hands.”

“Right. Leo… don’t run off, alright? I’ll take care of that part of the mission because I’m immune to the Basin’s effects. How’s that sound?”

“No, no, no, no, I need to go, too,” Leo whispered madly. “I’ll bring someone else, too. We need a whole team to go. This is a great effort. That’s fine, right? I’m the leader. So, that’s my strategy. Tactician. Strategy. We’ll go soon, right?”

It took every ounce of her will to not scream at him then, but she knew it wasn’t any use. He’d babbled like this the whole way home, but at least he wasn’t screaming it anymore. Maybe that meant the madness was fading. She glanced at Phol. “I’ll take care of letting his folks know,” she said. “Do you think he’ll… ever be suited to have visitors?”

Phol hesitated. That was all she needed. But before she could leave, he quickly said, “Yes. Once we have better measures in place. Perhaps some family would help him recover.”

It was a grasping hope, but hearing it from Phol, of all people… Maybe it was true.

“Okay,” she said. “If that’s the case, I’ll wait for that copy. Thanks for everything.”

<><><>​

On her way across town, Spice tried to ignore the looks she was getting from the others. Hushed whispers, a few frightened cries… This was much more than the usual reactions she got from her scar. She never had a good look at it in her reflection; was that gone? She could still see it when she looked down, but to everyone else, she was a shadowy wraith.

“They’ll get used to it,” Phol muttered. “You’re a Heart. That’s more than enough reason to trust you. Keep your credentials handy.”

“I will,” Spice muttered, holding her badge in one hand.

“…By the way, have you heard anything new about Angelo?” Phol asked. “He’s been shut in his home all day. He missed his training with Rhys, but he didn’t seem concerned. Said he wouldn’t want to bother Angelo. But I’m concerned. It was ever since he was spotted talking to the Kilo Guardian.”

“…We’re calling that thing the Kilo Guardian now, are we?” Spice had missed the memo.

Phol and Spice exchanged a glare; Spice silently dared Phol to remark about her being the one to call someone a ‘thing,’ while Phol seemed to be weighing his options.

Spice huffed. “And Angelo talked to him?”

Eventually, he said, “It seems so. Which is surprising. Based on the rumors, Nate said something truly horrible to him before that sucked the morale right out of him.”

“Well, I doubt it would take much, coming from… Nate.”

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s such a normal name,” Spice said. “That’s a human-era name, isn’t it? Or, associated with them? How’d he get it?”

“Apparently, Anam named him,” Phol said. “That’s what he’s said, at least.”

On reflex, Spice thought it was absurd. Then she thought about everything else that Goodra had kept hidden, and it all made sense. “I’d buy that.”

They got closer to the crater’s edge where the flood channels on either side of the roads led into a carved-out, wide path through the mountain. From there was a long path that led down. Still more walking, but it would give Spice time to think.

Nate enjoyed resting the upper portion of his body near this passageway. The many eyes that dotted his form stared at them as they passed, and Spice decided to focus ahead. In response, Nate waved one of its five upper tendrils at them.

Unsure, Phol waved back, but continued on his way.

And as they descended the mountain, yet another newcomer bounded upward.

“Oh, what now?” Spice wasn’t sure what to think of the figure from far away. Four legs, but a mismatch of body parts. No—a mutant? “Phol—get back.”

“You can’t heal,” Phol countered, flames dancing around his wrists and waist. “That’s a mutant, no doubt. Get ready.”

Spice opened with a warning shot, balling up a Sludge Bomb in her hands and lobbing it forward. Phol pointed at the ball of sludge in midair and the emblem-like embers on his waist shot forward, enveloping the bomb in fire. The chimera didn’t even bother to dodge, powering straight through it. Poison and flames licked at its metallic beak to nearly no effect.

“Gah! It’s tough!” Spice readied another.

Phol went for a Flamethrower directly this time, but this time the beast leapt high into the air, landing a few feet in front of them.

Spice launched a Sludge Bomb from her hands, then in desperation one directly from her mouth. It dodged both with a quick roll, then pounced on Phol.

“NO!” Spice shouted, readying a good shot.

“Hi! Hi!” the beast said, talons pressed firmly on Phol’s shoulders. It was taller than them both and had a massive crest on his head. Spice had never seen anything like it… “You look important! Is this Kilo Village?”

Spice noticed, on the thing’s back, there was a Cherrim, nervously shuffling and trying to stay situated. Down the mountain, a hulking Houndoom with an oversized skull-chest plate bounded toward them.

Phol was trying to push the beast off of him, but not only was he heavy, he was pressing his full weight onto Phol. But he wasn’t attacking and, once the initial rush wore off, Spice realized the thing wasn’t actually fighting.

Grumbling, she eyed the incoming, strange Houndoom next. “He with you?”

“Yep! That’s Lucas!”

“Get—off me!” Phol pushed and rolled away, grunting as he straightened the fur on his shoulders.

“I came with a message from Nevren! Are you a Heart?”

“I am,” Spice said. “Nevren? Where is he?”

“He’s in Quartz HQ making sure all the mutants are being taken care of and stuff!”

“I thought Nevren dispatched them, not took care of them.”

“He does both!”

For some reason, Spice could easily imagine Nevren doing questionable science experiments on his captures. “Right. Okay. The message?”

The Cherrim wobbled closer and held out a small paper. Spice recognized Nevren’s handwriting…

To the Thousand Hearts,

I trust that all is well! Very good work keeping the town properly managed. I am very proud of my organizational preparation and your execution of my plans. I have delivered to you one Silvally Lavender and his companions. Within this Silvally is information that should be delivered to the leviathan, Nate, who should be stationed around Kilo Mountain. If you have further questions or clarifications, seek out a Zygarde Hecto, who will be able to provide further guidance.

This message is void if not delivered before the twentieth day of Autumn’s third moon, and plans have already been set that would render this message unnecessary.

“What day is it?” Spice asked. Without sleeping, she’d lost track.

“Nineteenth of Autumn’s third,” Phol said.

“Well. Nevren planned out when you’d arrive, too,” Spice mumbled, looking at Lavender. “Talk to that thing.” Spice pointed at Nate.

“Thanks, creepy lady!” Lavender happily bounded away with Lucas.

“Creepy…” Spice felt her blood pressure rising. “Whatever. Let’s go. Those two freaks can do what they want.”

<><><>​

A sharp cry put Spice in defense mode immediately, ready to block anything that might be thrown at her. But, to her luck, that had been all—Sugar had been the one to answer the door.

“Who’s there?!” a booming voice called from inside, and a Rampardos stomped in next.

“Calm, enough,” Phol spat. “It’s Spice. I came to let you know that she’s back from her mission. With a new look.”

“It’s really me, Sugar,” Spice said with a frown. “I’m sorry for giving you a scare, but… I mean. I still live here.”

The other, normal Salazzle held her chest, sighing. “That really scared me,” she said, “Spice! What happened to you?!”

“I don’t know,” Spice said. “But I feel fine. That’s… all. Where’s Saffron?”

“Sleeping,” Sugar’s mate said.

“Let’s hope he still is!” Spice growled, flicking him on the nose. “Dezz! What’s with shouting when it’s his nap time, huh?!”

“I—I—I mean—Sugar screamed, and—”

Sugar relaxed more. “It really is you.” She tried to giggle, but it was nervous. “Spice… You know, Mom’s been even more nervous than usual. I think she’s aware of what’s going on.”

“She is?” Spice asked. “I thought she didn’t care about all this.”

“Maybe it’s big enough that she’s paying attention. But she’s been saying some really odd things lately, when I visited. I’m… worried her mind’s starting to go.”

Phol shifted uncomfortably. “Er, well. I suppose I should be going. I don’t think I should overhear family matters.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—you’re Phol, right? Thank you for bringing Spice to us.” Sugar nodded.

“And, uh, sorry for the scare,” Dezz added.

“Mm.” Phol left. “Take care, Spice. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

“You got it.” Spice waved him off, and then looked to Sugar again. “What was Mom saying?”

“Strange things, I don’t really remember,” Sugar admitted. “Just that something was… wrong. She said to look out for wraiths. Which, well…”

Spice tensed. “I’m not a wraith.”

“I—I know. I know. Sorry, I shouldn’t have… mentioned it.”

But it was obviously on her mind. Just as Spice came home looking like this… She sighed. “I need a drink.”

She let herself in, leaving for the kitchen.

After all that, it was quiet, and Spice could finally take a moment to breathe. She dipped a ceramic cup in a bowl of water and took a long, lukewarm drink. It was a shame their cooling Orb had broken during the cataclysm. Those were too expensive to get new ones, for now.

Sugar gasped when she entered the kitchen, then held her chest. “Sorry, still getting used to it,” she said with a strained smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” Spice dismissed her with her free hand. After getting something from storage, Sugar offered to make dinner, which Spice obliged. Saffron was napping; he’d probably be startled, too, but he was a resilient kid. He probably knew some friends at school who were just as scary-looking as her anyway, right? He’d be fine if Sugar was there to prompt him.

Setting the cup down, Spice stared out of her home and toward the clear, orange skies. The wind blew and a flurry of autumn leaves danced across the window. It was a beautiful evening, like always.

Thunder boomed distantly. It was a regular occurrence by now. Spice knew that her innate sense for the stirring beneath the earth was actually Lugia on the other side of the planet. Every day, it got a little stronger…

<><><>​

After work, Owen ended up having a very productive day. Thanks to the sun in Null Village, he now knew that it was actually afternoon. First, he asked Marshadow where the crystal refineries or whatever equivalent was, and he was taken to a spot in Null Village that was in the manufacturing district. He offered to energize some of their most necessary equipment, but quickly tired out after only a few fully energized crystals. He wasn’t sure what it was for, but it would perhaps help, and more importantly, it seemed to impress the guards.

Owen then tried to purify Marshadow, and apparently Dark Matter did not give him any commands to resist. He held Marshadow’s shoulders and hoped for the best. If he did anything, Marshadow didn’t react. He had only shrugged. “Eh, maybe next time.”

Then, he tended to the Tree of Life in the center of town which, after speaking to some locals, he learned had completely grew around the sentinel tower that protected the village. It had been what fired those beams of ice at Gahi when he’d first arrived, and apparently was also used as emergency fire against a violent Titan. But now that the Tree took it over, the Titans avoided Null Village entirely.

Owen felt a little proud, but he tried not to brag.

On his way home, Owen walked familiar roads and decided to take a route that passed Hakk and Xypher’s old home. Repairs must have been continuing, but with nighttime approaching, they must have stopped. It was funny how quickly Null Village had adjusted their schedules to day and night.

Owen was about to pass by, but then noticed that a few of the gems installed in the walls were too dark. Depleted. What kind of shoddy crystal installments were these?!

Shutting his eyes, Owen marched onward. Maybe they’re just busy with other parts, he rationalized, but then glanced back. No, that wall seemed complete otherwise. And there were other parts that also seemed fully installed. Like they’d given up on those ones. Those weren’t going to get fixed, were they? Forever dim unless Hakk complained about it. He probably would. But it might stress Xypher out. He seemed peculiar and might notice the depleted crystals first.

You’re thinking way too much on this, Amelia commented.

It’s your equipment inventory all over again, Klent added, sighing.

H-hey, proper equipment is important! Especially now that I’m weaker than ever!

Just fix the darn thing if it’s bugging you so much! Amelia growled. All this obsessing over a freaking wall…

Maybe I will! Defiantly, Owen spun on his heels and marched toward the crystals.

In the end, they weren’t very urgent, but Owen was feeling too restless to go back home. He felt he still had to do things, to fix things where he could to make up for lost time. And after Gahi and the antics of the team in general had led to Hakk’s home getting destroyed, pitching in for some fixes would be worth it, wouldn’t it?

The door was still open and most of the valuables were already taken out. It was dubbed inhospitable until the walls were repaired, and so far, they were only halfway complete.

“…Owen?”

“GAH!” Owen nearly leapt out of his feathers. He spun around and gasped again. “D-Demitri! Mispy!”

Mispy frowned disapprovingly. “Looting?”

“What?! No!”

The mutant Meganium slithered forward; Demitri looked around the empty rooms.

“He-hey, hang on, I didn’t do anything here. It, uh, it was empty when I got here. I was energizing the crystals and stuff and—what are you doing?”

Mispy prodded at the ground with one of her vines, which opened to reveal a hissing mouth. “Hunting,” she murmured.

“Mispy senses the aura of a Void Shadow underground right here,” Demitri said. “The way it’s moving, it must be some kind of chamber. It wasn’t here before.”

“It snuck in?” Owen asked. “Doesn’t this place have a basement? I think Hakk mentioned that, but there aren’t any stairs down…”

“Hmm… hidden passage,” Mispy said, and then leaned her head down to the ground, sniffing. She followed the corners of the room, and Owen decided to try the other corner. Demitri stood awkwardly in the room, playing with his claws and cleaning some perceived dust on the wall.

“Here,” Mispy said, pointing. “Demi.”

“Oh, okay.” Demitri ran his claws along where Mispy pointed. “Oh, hey, this wall goes in… Hang on.” He gave it a firm push, and after some initial resistance, it gave way. The wall slid open on a hinge, revealing a wide, short stairway. They all silently listened… Movement downstairs in the dark.

“It’s pretty dark down there,” murmured Demitri, gulping.

“I’ll help,” Owen said, scaling Mispy’s vines before turning around so his tail faced forward. He focused on the leaf, calling back some of that radiant energy… Yes. The autumn leaf began to glow like a dim flame.

Demitri and Mispy seemed mesmerized at first.

“…Um. You can go ahead now.”

“Oh.” Mispy nodded, then used Owen’s light to descend. Demitri followed from the back, looking behind him nervously.

“Maybe Void Shadows go to places like this if it’s abandoned. That’s… creepy.” Demitri toyed with his left tusk, ready to pull it out in case they had to fight.

“Don’t hurt it yet,” Owen said softly.

“What?” Mispy asked.

“It might still be a person… or multiple people… I don’t know. Sorry, if it attacks, attack back.”

Mispy frowned, looking skeptical, but didn’t press.

The basement wasn’t any larger than the upper floor, but it was too dark to see many details. Owen shined his leaf brighter and saw shelves filled with jars of unknown contents—maybe some kind of storage? But what got his attention next was the blob of dark sludge wriggling around in the corner, hissing.

“There,” Mispy said, readying another Solar Beam.

“Mispy, wait—” Owen put out his leaf, making it too hard to aim.

“Why?!” Mispy hissed back.

“It didn’t attack.”

“It will.”

“I…”

“It’s not Amia.”

“That’s not—” It was. And that gave Owen pause. “Can’t we just shoo it away?”

“Mispy’s a guard. Her job is to kill these things. Besides, they’ll just wake up someplace else in the Voidlands… There’s nothing left of them, so…”

“So that means we can mistreat them?” Owen argued.

This time, Mispy paused, and the petals around her neck dimmed. “…Okay,” she said. “But… I don’t know how.”

Owen gratefully lit his tail again. “…Excuse me,” Owen said. “You can’t be here. Can you leave?”

It hissed in response and slid toward them, but Owen recognized it as a slower, cautious approach.

“Guys, move aside.”

“And let it loose?!” Demitri said.

“It’s just a weak Void Shadow. It can’t hurt anyone.”

“These things are mean, Owen,” Demitri squeaked.

“Hey. You won’t hurt anyone, alright? Just go back to the forest. Otherwise, you’ll have to answer to her.” Owen pointed at Mispy, who growled and opened one of her vine-mouths threateningly.

It opened its face, or some equivalent of a face, in response, hissing, as it skittered off.

Mispy seemed to be watching its aura, so Owen took a moment to relax and breathe.

“That was… Maybe that was a higher Void Shadow than the ones we’ve had to deal with,” Demitri said. “They usually just attack blindly.”

Now that they were deeper in the basement, Owen could properly see what was on the shelves and nearly gasped again. “What—”

“What’s wrong?” Demitri asked, following Owen’s eyes. “Ah—!”

Eyes.

The jars each had single pairs of eyes in them. All staring, unblinking, frozen and floating in some kind of thick, clear syrup. Owen wasn’t sure how many there were. A dozen on each shelf, and quite a few shelves… Some looked recently placed. Some were dusty and untouched. Small eyes, big eyes, black, brown…

Demitri squeaked. “W-wait, those are…” He pointed a shaking claw at one on the far end, one of the most recent additions based on how clean it looked. There was even some damp residue of that preserving fluid on the outer, metal seal. And in it were striking, reptilian, blue eyes. The shape of the pupil wasn’t like the normal sort of its kind. Slitted, narrow, forever focused on something far away.

Owen didn’t realize it at first because he often didn’t look at them. Instead, he looked through them. Those were his eyes, from his first body that had died in the Voidlands.

“W-we should go. We should—”

“Too late.” Mispy’s head jerked toward the entrance. Someone had just come into her range of vision, and that could only mean…

“Oh, why now?!” Demitri squealed.

“It’s the end of the work day. They must have been on their way back…” Owen hissed. “We took too long in here.”

“Do we hide?” Demitri asked frantically. He searched and searched, but the way things were, they were simply too large. Mispy grabbed Owen and shoved her in her vines; Owen protested at first, but then he remembered what he’d just seen. What if Xypher wanted another set?

Hakk cursed from above. He’d seen the open door. No hiding now. In seconds, he was down, staring at Demitri and Mispy while Owen put out his leaf’s light.

“…Hey,” Hakk said.

“Please don’t eat us,” Demitri begged.

Owen just remembered that they both had a weakness to Ice. And so did he.

Hakk looked insulted. Xypher squawked from the first floor.

“I’m not gonna eat you,” the huge Sandslash said. “Look, just… can you keep a secret?” there was a nervous waver in his voice.

“Why?” Mispy challenged.

“Because he didn’t hurt anybody.”

So it was Xypher’s collection. That strange Corviknight, Class D, with barely any memories to his name, did this? He collected… eyes?

“H-he didn’t—he didn’t—but! But!” Demitri pointed at the jar. “Those are Owen’s!”

“Yeah, so?!” Hakk spat. “Not like Xypher killed him! We found him during scouting and Xypher, look, this isn’t important. Just—promise, you won’t spread any rumors about this? Xypher’s safe. He won’t hurt anyone. You don’t need—this is okay, alright? Don’t tell anyone.”

“What happens?” Mispy asked. “If… if…” She stumbled over her words.

“If you do? Then… Xypher will probably be sent away. He’d be considered too at-risk for Null Village, too dangerous and at risk of fully Voiding, and they’d send him off. And then he really will, alright? But he needs this, alright? Just—you don’t get it. Do you have any idea what it’s like to not…”

“But why?! What’s the point?!” Demitri’s voice cracked. “This—this is wrong! It’s so… creepy, I—”

“Will you get over it?! People die! What use is a dead body?! Xypher keeps them, okay, who cares why, he doesn’t take it from living folks, so—”

“What if he starts to?! W-we don’t know, we—”

“Is he dangerous?” Mispy pressed.

“No, he’s not. I said he’s not!” Hakk roared. “Just leave! Okay?! Don’t—don’t tell anyone!”

Mispy regarded the shelves, then Demitri, who was leaning hard against Mispy’s body. Owen felt all of these movements, and how tense Mispy felt, as he tried to get a good look at Hakk’s expression. He wasn’t familiar with Sandslash, and he once again cursed his lack of Perceive, but he still sensed… panic. Fear. But there was more to it. He couldn’t place it, but…

Speak up, Klent encouraged.

C’mon, Owen. Don’t just watch.

“Wait,” Owen said, and all eyes—it felt like the jars were watching, too—were on him. Owen climbed out from Mispy’s hold, even after she tried to pull him back for safety, but a quick glare made her reluctantly relent.

“Oh.” Hakk glanced at the jar, and he suddenly looked trapped and desperate. Ice was swirling around his claws whether he wanted it or not. Like a trapped feral with no way out. Would he do something so terrible just to protect Xypher?

“I want to talk to Xypher,” Owen said. “Alone.”

More hesitating. Hakk shifted his weight. “Fine.”

“You guys all go up. I’ll stay here.”

“But what if he kills you?” Demitri asked.

“Then report it and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Owen wasn’t sure why they looked so disturbed by that, but they shuffled out one by one. Some chatter and squawks later, as Owen tried to keep his tiny heart rhythmic, Xypher descended.

He seemed significantly bigger than before, but that, Owen knew, was all in his head. The Corviknight’s steely scales reflected the dim light his tail was giving off to keep things visible, as did the jars’ edges and the glistening eyes within. The collection, of which Owen had become part of. This was all some strange, walking nightmare, and yet…

“Hey, Xypher,” Owen greeted, bowing lightly.

Xypher squawked. “Hello. Hello, hello.”

“Sorry for, uh, coming into your room. We sensed a Void Shadow here and didn’t want it endangering anyone.”

“Oh.” Xypher’s head twitched into a tilt. “Thank you.”

So many questions from such an incomprehensible Pokémon. His mind wasn’t all there and Owen knew it. He felt silly just for asking for this meeting, but…

“Do you know why you collect these?” Owen asked.

“I like them. They’re bright. Bright, bright…”

Owen wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Bright eyes? Maybe, under the right kind of light, but it was pretty dark in the basement. How did Xypher see them normally?

“I don’t want to forget,” Xypher said. “I can’t. Can’t, can’t…”

“What?” Owen asked. “Forget?”

“I can’t forget you.” Xypher shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t.”

He glanced at the jar, then at Xypher. The Corviknight’s eyes were… there, yes, but vacant. A shell. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, the true Xypher was calling upon this shell to give an impulse or two to collect eyes. Eyes were important to him, and Owen couldn’t know why. Not even Xypher did.

That understanding suddenly washed over him. Xypher was one death away from being Voided, and this was his effort to remember people. A small, desperate attempt… even though these jars were covered in dust, some so old that perhaps Xypher truly forgot them, he still wanted to ‘keep’ those memories. Owen wondered why Xypher, then, wanted to honor Owen’s when they hadn’t even met when he must have found his body.

“I thought I was put in a stew,” Owen murmured.

“Found you before,” Xypher said. “There are others. They live… in that place. They eat what they can. What they can, what they can… But I saved you first. I saved you, I saved you.”

“You saved me…” Owen glanced at the jars again, at his own, judging him, or perhaps only watching and wondering. “Do you hurt anyone?”

“No. Only save. So you’ll never die. Never, never…”

“What about people who are alive?” Owen asked.

Xypher looked confused. “Then they don’t need to be saved.”

He probably didn’t have the capacity to lie. That… was enough. It wasn’t like Xypher had any ‘missing people’ associated with him… And while it was… strange…

“Xypher, can you come close for a second? Lean down.” This was silly. This was stupid. This was going to hurt. “Can you look at me?”

Still confused, the Corviknight approached and leaned forward—leaned so much that he fell onto his chest with a light chirp, and even then, his eyes were just barely level with Owen’s.

And Owen leaned close until he could see his own, dim reflection in his shiny beak. He stared into Xypher’s eyes. Xypher stared back, blankly, curiously, but there was a little glint in them, like he was pleased.

“Thank you,” Xypher said. “I like your smile.”

“Uh.” Owen decided not to comment on it. “And… thank you for… keeping my old eyes safe. You can keep them. Just, don’t do that too much, okay?”

“But how will I remember?” Xypher asked, and a flash of distress crossed his expression. “I… I can’t forget. I can’t. I can’t.”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Owen said, putting a hand on Xypher’s beak. It was cold and hard, not quite like ice, but close. “Why don’t you… draw them? Work on drawing them?”

“Drawing…”

“That way, you can draw the eyes even of people who are still alive.”

“Drawing…” Xypher said it again, but with enthusiasm. But then he deflated. “I’m bad at that. Bad, bad…”

“Aw, well. Maybe you can practice for now on the ones you see here. How about that?”

“Mm. Maybe. Maybe.”

Owen stepped back and Xypher stood up. “I think that’s all,” Owen said. “Let’s go back upstairs.”

“Can I help?” Xypher asked, lowering a wing.

The motion startled Owen not because of how sudden it was, but how fluid and naturally it came to him. There was an ancient grace in the way Xypher leaned forward—the motion so ingrained in his core—that, for a split-second, Owen thought he saw the true Xypher awaken.

He couldn’t refuse. “Sure.”

Xypher gave Owen a ride to the first floor, where Owen smiled at Mispy and nodded once they got to the top. Demitri was a nervous wreck as usual, but Mispy was glaring at Hakk the whole time.

“It’s okay,” Owen said. “It’s fine. Xypher is totally safe. How about we go home and get dinner?”

Mispy gave Owen a skeptical look, but Owen returned it with a firm, confident nod. Mispy kept her skepticism, but her expression softened enough. Owen knew what that meant. She would ask later… but for now, would take no action. She was too smart to operate purely on Owen’s judgement, and that was fair.

And as Xypher marched outside, Owen couldn’t get the sight of the jars out of his mind. Not because of their terror, but because of what they meant. There was no telling how many of them were like that in Null Village, desperately grasping for any way to hold memories down, no matter how strange.

That was what he was fighting for. That was what Dark Matter took away. And as Hakk remarked on the construction workers ‘finally’ getting to fixing the crystals, Owen couldn’t stop looking at the back of Xypher’s head.

<><><>​

Finally, he returned home.

They’d all gathered again for dinner, and it occurred to Owen that this had become somewhat of a tradition. Team Alloy helped organize an extra seat to fit Owen in properly, and he sat between Zena and Mispy. That evening, Demitri cooked for the team a Null Village staple of void plant salad with purple spice and red dressing. The result was a surprisingly appealing tapestry of dark leaves and red-purple sauces and powders.

“It’s cheap,” Demitri said, “but you kinda get used to it. These plants grow really well in the Voidlands and are actually pretty full of nutrients!”

“Most of your energy comes from the sauce, so make sure you eat all of it,” Zena added, holding a fork in one of her ribbons tentatively.

“Mm.” Owen eyed the plate, then glanced at Jerry down the table, who had previously expressed a preference for meat. Even he was eating it with a stoic expression. Owen wondered, as an outlaw who had to steal to get money and food, if Jerry was used to eating what he could.

Hesitant but not wanting to seem ungrateful, Owen tried his own, the fork unfamiliar in his claws. How much had changed in the few weeks that had passed. Some of the group were using technology that were more reminiscent of what he’d see in Kilo: special equipment that stuck to paws or appendages just as well as he could work with his hands, including the utensils. Even the bowls seemed to be crafted with fine materials procured in the Voidlands. Polished stones, ceramics, a lot of it totally smooth to the touch.

“Owen, are you okay?” Zena asked. “You seem… distracted.”

“Just getting used to everything,” Owen said with a smile. His eyes were tired, but Zena’s had even less energy. Must have been a long day for both of them.

“Eh, makes sense.” Gahi chomped on one of the leaves. He offered one to Trina, who was sitting on his head and eating her own, tiny plate, and she happily took the offer before exchanging for what looked like a tiny, blackened cherry tomato. Gahi caught it with his tongue and continued eating.

Finally, Owen tried it. Bitter. Very bitter. His tongue shriveled up. But he powered through and tried some of the dressing with it. Salty, sweet, actually not that bad. He had flashes to when he’d tried the red river water when he’d first arrived in the Voidlands, but it was brief.

The second bite was easier, and he took more of it this time. Somehow, bigger bites made it tastier. It was tough and crunchy in some parts. Bitter fluids were in the stems, and he wondered if it was supposed to be that way or if Demitri hadn’t cooked it all out.

Owen felt like he was being watched. Glancing up, he caught three pairs of eyes on him. One was Zena. Comforting, concerned, and he smiled to try to ease her worries. The next was Eon, the other Charmander at the table, who smiled at him before he could react. Stars above, he still had to talk to him. Maybe later.

“You know, I actually got paid for that day of work,” Owen said. “I think he might have given me a bonus for the repairs, but, uh, it might also have been for… giving him a scare about inspections. I hope I don’t get in trouble for that.”

“I think you’ll be fine.” Zena gently rubbed his shoulder.

“What, the bathhouse?” Jerry asked. “Anybody try and put the moves on you yet?”

“A few times,” Zena said before Owen could object. “If anyone tries to get touchy with us, though, we’re free to retaliate as we like.”

“So, Hydro Pump.”

“Ice Beam, actually.”

“Y’know, that’s better.”

“Are all of you guys treated, y’know, questionably at work, or anything like that?” Owen asked.

“Well, some of us,” Zena said, sighing. “But… we can defend ourselves. And Null Village is just like that. It isn’t… like Kilo Village. People are different here.”

“I heard some talk about that, actually,” Jerry said. “At least before all this stuff with Dark Matter happened, the Voidlands was usually a place where lost spirits went, I guess. Those that died but had too much ‘negativity’ in their heart, or whatever. Personally, I don’t buy it. But if it is true, then maybe the culture here is more hardened from harsh lives.”

“Hardened,” Owen mumbled.

“What, you think you’re above it?” Jerry pressed. “You’re right here with us, buddy.”

“No, that’s not—” Owen winced. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think… I mean, it’s just a shock. That’s all. I’m hoping that I can try to make some money or at least get some better living conditions for us if I find a job, too.”

“Hmph. If you can prove you made that tree, or maybe show that you need to maintain it or something…” Jerry leaned forward. “I bet that would make you a killing.”

“Maybe…”

“It’s all temporary anyway,” Zena dismissed. “All until we can be free from the Voidlands, right?”

“Yeah! Right.” Owen nodded, taking another bite. The food wasn’t too bad, but it was still bitter.

Xypher cawed nearby and Owen remembered that he was the third pair of eyes on him. The creepiest ones; did Xypher even blink? And he had two whole plates of Demitri’s cooking, too.

“They say that the lower your Class, the more this weird food tastes good,” Hakk said. “Guess that’s why Xypher loves this stuff.”

The Corviknight screeched.

“Y’know, that reminds me,” Hakk said, “we oughta pay a visit at home again once we’re through eating.”

“Not done moving out yet?” Owen asked.

“Nah, just checking repairs,” Hakk replied leisurely. “Anyway, let’s eat. Here, Xypher, grab this weird thing.”

Hakk tossed Xypher a squishy, purple fruit, and Xypher caught and swallowed it in mid-air. Owen realized that one was on his plate, too, but the smell made him suppress a retch. He glanced at Demitri, who wasn’t paying attention. Owen hastily tossed it to Xypher next. Zena did the same.

And for a fleeting moment, everything felt normal.

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 118 – Just Acquainted​

Dark Matter stood face to face with Anam. He took on the form of a familiar Charizard, blue eyes tinged with streaks of darkness. Anam didn’t like looking at those, and Dark Matter knew it.

All around them were Void Shadows. Under the ground, in the trees, and all around the forest.

“I did everything you asked,” Dark Matter stated. “Nothing came of it.”

“You just need to wait. He’ll find a way to help.”

“They’re going to kill me. And I know, from the recent arrivals, they are planning an assault soon. I will not wait while they plot my demise.”

“Please. Just one more day,” Anam begged. The Goodra squeezed his hands together.

“No.” Dark Matter redoubled his glare. “I will not allow you to stall for any longer. I am going to fight. I refuse to be erased. Not until I am done.”

Another stare down. How long had they been at this pointless exchange? Dark Matter turned around. “When the time comes, I am going to fight you. I will overwhelm you with so many Void Shadows that you will not be able to catch up to my main army. By the time you arrive, it will be too late.”

“I won’t get in your way,” Anam said, and there was a suspicious weight behind his words. “I know that we can’t… we can’t hurt each other. Because we’re linked. Because I’m the Guardian, and you’re the spirit.”

“You can still seal me. I know what you will do and I won’t allow it this time. I will not be held back.”

“You’re sealed… but you can also draw from my power.” Anam held his chest. “…I’m… not going to let you do that. You can’t use my power anymore. Necrozma’s light… I… I’m going to make you fully vulnerable!”

Dark Matter quirked a scaly brow. “Oh?” He faced the Goodra again, looming over him. “And just how will you do that if we are linked?”

Anam closed his eyes. “…I’m going to release you.”

The false Charizard narrowed his eyes. “Then I’ll kill you. Nothing would stop me from overtaking your spirit.”

“You will still become weak to Necrozma, fully. Even a touch…”

“They won’t be able to get close.” Dark Matter stepped closer to Anam. “Do it, then.”

Anam stared, eyes wide but not with fear. They glowed as they always did, those green irises etching themselves into Dark Matter’s mind. Even now, they were bright. Always bright. How he hated and envied that light. If he could blot it out…

“I trust you,” Anam said.

A stabbing pain went from Dark Matter’s chest to his forehead. He snarled, withholding a wince, as a dark haze leaked from the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll kill you the moment you let me.”

Anam finally closed his eyes. Dark Matter wondered if Madeline and James were readying a counterattack. If this was all a trap. Perhaps it was. But he couldn’t sense it from Anam.

“It’s going to be okay,” Anam said. Dark Matter didn’t know who he was talking to.

A thread of gold appeared between Dark Matter and Anam, connecting their chests. The end attached to Dark Matter severed… and he was released.

<><><>​

The rest of Owen’s meal passed without much incident. Quietly, they all regarded one another as they stacked their bowls by the counter, and it seemed to be Eon’s turn to do cleaning. “Oh, and I can help, too,” Owen offered quickly.

That earned a concerned look from Zena, but Owen stared, stone-faced. Their eyes didn’t leave one another for a few moments, but then she silently nodded and slithered back to her room with Enet.

Eon got a few booster pillows from nearby to climb, careful that they were stacked securely, and Owen climbed up with him on the opposite side. Eon turned the faucet; purple water flowed out and Owen winced.

“We use the filtered water after the first rinse,” he explained.

“Right…”

It was odd to work with running water. Back in Hot Spot, most of their cleaning for dishes involved flames and burning away the mess, then dusting off the ashy remains. Not that the tradition continued once non-Fire spirits were—

What happened to Amia’s spirits? Auntie Arcanine, all the false kids that used to inhabit Hot Spot? Were they stuck inside Amia? No…

“Owen?” Eon asked.

“Oh, sorry. I… Right. Dishes.”

“If the water scares you, it’s alright,” Eon said gently.

“It doesn’t. I’m not Fire right now anyway.”

“Right…”

Despite Owen’s current state, Eon was still a proper Charmander. At least they looked different this time.

“So, you’re getting better at holding that form?” Owen asked.

“Yeah. Not the best, but it helps to have a default. Being smaller uses less energy anyway.”

“Mhm. Not a lot of energy to spare here when everything’s so expensive, huh?” Owen glanced behind him. Their home was barren aside from the absolute essentials, if that. For how many people lived in the communal home, it seemed like there hadn’t been much space. Maybe Trina sat on Gahi’s head because they’d run out of room once he’d arrived…

Enough small talk. Owen knew why he wanted this.

“I remember everything about Kanto,” Owen said. “And Almia, and Orre.”

Eon nearly dropped his dishes, but he nodded quickly and said, “Y-you did, huh? Just like that?”

“While I was a tree, I had a lot of time to think about things and, you know, remember.” Owen passed a plate for Eon to rinse. “You’ve changed.”

Eon was no longer interested in washing the dishes, but he still made a halfhearted attempt.

“The Tim I knew wouldn’t have done anything that you did,” Owen said. “Raising a whole army of artificial Pokémon just to get me back? Trying to fight the gods themselves and throw Kilo into… just, centuries of fear of those mutants? Turning me into one?!”

“I know, I know,” Eon said quickly. “I—”

“If you knew, then why’d you do it?!” Owen had wanted to keep his voice down, but it all spilled out the second he’d said even a small portion of his thoughts. Now the flood was unstoppable. He wanted to stop but didn’t. “Did you ever think that I would have hated what you did to me? How many lives you ruined all because of me? How do you think I feel?”

No words from Eon. Despite the false Charmander being twice Owen’s height, Eon seemed a lot smaller. Owen hated how he looked like ‘Smallflame’ even now.

“I hate,” Owen snarled, “what you did. And what you kept doing, like there was no other solution. I just want to know… why. Why did you do all of that? Was it really just so you could get me back? Was it because you wanted to go to Kanto? Because Kanto’s gone. We’ve been on Kilo for centuries… m-maybe longer. Everyone we knew there, assuming Arceus didn’t just destroy the whole planet, is—”

“Still there,” Eon said hastily.

“What?! What are you even—”

“Kanto is still there. W-we found out. Nevren found out.”

Owen was still in the mood to argue. He searched for somewhere to counter that, but it was so surprising that he only stumbled over his words. Owen stayed on guard, but he listened.

“Nevren has a room,” Eon said. “It’s… it’s a room where he puts down notes about things he can guess about the world. Things about the Divine Decrees that affected even us. Parts of history that are being suppressed so nobody can remember. It’s like a property of the world itself and happens automatically by some… logic of the gods who put it there. Secrets to keep things hidden. And while we can never know what those secrets are directly, Nevren can leave instructions to himself on what to do about his findings, while he’s in that room.

“A-and one of those things was that Kanto still existed. That whole world still does; he only destroyed Quartz Isle, and then erased the fact that he did. For all we know, we’re just… missing, or we died some other way. And most of all… this world, Kilo, follows a different time flow. We don’t know by how much, but… time in Kilo is so much faster. Even after all this, if we go back now, if we can align the worlds, we could go back to Kanto and… and it’ll all go back to normal. We can live normal lives again.”

“Wh…” Owen stared, slack-jawed. “How can we live normal lives after all this? How can we even think to go back when we’ve been doing this for so long? That’s… stupid! And you know it! I’m not gonna pretend all of this didn’t happen!” Owen chirped and roared at Eon, completely disregarding the dishes at this point. “I’m guessing you never bothered to tell us because the Decree made it all hidden away, and we should just blame Star and Barky for all of this, right? Well, maybe, but I’m not… not after this. Not for all you did. Some of that’s on you, for taking it this far. You chose to do all of this, and you could have stopped at any point, but you didn’t. You even made a copy of me just to try to have me back some other way!”

That one looked like it hurt Eon the most. He held back a gasp and turned his head away hard, biting his tongue.

“You tried to copy my memories and put them in some other artificial body just to have ‘me’ again. And then you created my friends to do the same thing, didn’t you? My ‘team,’ just like in Kanto.”

“I wanted you to be happy,” Eon choked.

“No, you wanted ME!” Owen spat back. His eyes felt hot. It hurt to say. He couldn’t believe that he was saying it to him at all. Flashes of his memories echoed in the back of Owen’s mind of that fateful day in the forest. The day he decided to partner with Tim for good, to leave Kanto behind when he could have easily gone back home with his wings.

Owen wondered, if he went back now to tell his younger self about what would happen, would he have gone back? Would he have let Tim go with Ayame and Ire, and would he return to the lab to live a quiet life?

Deep in his heart, he knew he wouldn’t have, no matter who told him. And even deeper, Owen felt a strong, bubbling, hateful realization that he wouldn’t try to avert it, either. Why? Why? After spending so much time trying to shove Eon away, that instinctual drive to go back plagued him.

“I’m sorry,” Eon finally said. “I… I…”

Owen hadn’t been looking, so he was surprised to hear a loud thump, and then Eon not there when he looked up.

On the floor was a blubbering puddle of ooze. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Eon said, unable to focus on any form at all. “I just kept going, little things led to big things, I just kept going, I’m sorry…”

It was pathetic. Owen could only stare. He wanted to leave, to let him wallow in that regret that he was finally feeling…

But he couldn’t. Because Owen also knew that Eon had been regretting this for a long time. Driven helplessly by his own willpower.

Eon was saying something more, but Owen was too focused on his thoughts to register any of it. He climbed off of the platforms and walked toward Eon, sitting nearby while he cried it out. Owen wanted to cry, too, but it was quieter. Relieving. He’d finally gotten to say something he hadn’t even known he’d wanted. But it was still a wound; he still felt so empty and lost. He also wanted Tim back. And he wasn’t sitting next to Owen anymore. He hadn’t been for years and years…

“I just don’t know what I would have done,” Eon said. “But this was all wrong… I did everything wrong… I lost everything… A-and… and I failed you.”

He had. He really had. But… “You didn’t fail me before. You just… lost your way. I don’t remember when it happened or how it happened, but you did. And you became a monster.”

“Y-yeah…”

“I can’t ever forget that.’

“And I don’t want you to,” Eon said. “I n-never wanted you to lose your memories.”

Owen lost his breath. He forgot whether he’d just let out one, or took one in, and was stuck there, frozen, as those words echoed. That was right. Eon had been driven to near madness trying to restore Owen’s memories. Gahi’s, Mispy’s, and Demitri’s, too. But every time he did, it brought out that instinctual madness, too. And they’d get reset, over and over, by some dark power that wrapped around their aura.

Eon was vulnerable, here. Owen could ask anything and he’d probably get the truth. He composed himself, navigating carefully. Owen knew that just as Eon was vulnerable here, so too was he.

“Eon…” Owen sighed. “No. Tim. I… don’t want you to try to win me back. It’s…” Say it. Say it. ‘It’s over,’ say it. Tim had done far too much for him to ever be Owen’s partner again, say it. Owen knew that he just had to say, ‘I don’t want to be your partner,’ and be done with it. He could leave Eon to despair about it, and then he’d move on one day. Or he’d become a Void Shadow, whatever. But Owen owed Tim nothing. Say it. Say it.

“What are you going to do now?” Owen asked.

“What?”

“You did all that. Can’t change it. So, what now?” Owen felt some of his anger ebbing away with each careful breath he took. Eon talking slowly, and taking so long to reply, was doing wonders for calming his emotions.

Owen helped Eon regain some semblance of a body. He solidified and shifted until he was at least reminiscent of a Ditto. His dotted eyes still had a sorrowful glint to them, and he couldn’t look at Owen directly. As a Ditto, his voice was high pitched and scratchy, not unlike a child. No wonder he tried to avoid it. But for now, it suited him.

“What have you been doing in Null Village?” Owen prodded again.

“I’ve… I’ve been trying to help out here. I don’t have a lot of power. I think… most of it is sealed, or something, like yours. But what I can do, I’ve been trying. Helped rescue Palkia, a-and rescue you, er, not that you needed it…”

On the contrary, he did. But at least Eon was trying to downplay it.

“And,” Eon continued, “I’ve… I’ve been avoiding you a little. I figured you didn’t want to… see me right now.”

“I didn’t,” Owen agreed. “I noticed that a little.”

Silence. Eon looked like he wanted to transform again, but couldn’t think of anything to become.

“It’s alright,” Owen said. “Pick what form you want.”

Eon flinched, his body jiggling. “I didn’t want to… take you or anything.”

Owen rolled his eyes, sighing. “Oh, don’t be dramatic about it. Just… do it like you’ve always been. It’s fine.”

Slowly, his body shifted again. Scales formed around flesh and a little flame erupted at the end of his tail. By the time he was done and calm, he glanced at Owen again. “Is there something more I should be doing?” he asked. “I… I know I want you back, but… but if… if that’s n-not what you want… then okay. Then, okay. I’ll… Then, okay.”

He kept repeating it, nodding, like he was trying to tell it to himself. Owen knew Eon. He knew every little tic about him, and when he took on the form of a Charmander, he knew it even more. In the end, this let Owen get a good, hard look at how Eon really felt. His flame, his twitches, his eyes…

All genuine.

He really was going to give him the choice to leave. If Owen left, Eon would accept it. If Owen left, Eon would try to move on. He might fail, and he might fail for a long time… but Eon looked, finally, willing to accept that.

“And what will you do for the mutants?” Owen asked.

“I need to help them,” Eon said immediately, and a nostalgic fire was in his eyes for only Owen to see. “I’ve… been thinking, maybe I could find a way to convince Nevren to make a school. We know their psychology really well, and most of their spirits are from feral Pokémon, so we can help educate them. Maybe Trina, she knew a lot about how to temper their spirits, so maybe if we combined those two, they won’t be at risk anymore, and . . .”

He went on and on and on. Always looking forward. Always trying to help others. That… was the Tim he knew. Some of his ideas were silly and frankly wouldn’t work, but that was also the Tim he knew.

So, maybe he was still there, deep down.

When Eon paused enough for Owen to interject, the Grassmander said, “Then you want to repair the damage.”

“I do.” Eon nodded. “That’s what I’m gonna do no matter what.”

Owen wanted to leave it at that, but he took the risk and asked one more question. “Why?”

And, to his relief, the answer came quickly. “It’s just the right thing to do. And a return to form. I liked… when I helped Pokémon, back when I was a ranger. And being a ranger and part of a team for Dungeons, that isn’t too different, right? I think I want to do that when this is all over.”

Owen felt the fanned leaf of his tail flex. It reminded him of his flame growing. “Yeah,” he said. “And… maybe we can start up that partnership again. From the beginning. How does that sound?”

Eon’s flame was blazing, but he kept himself calm. Owen could tell he was trying not to look desperate. “I’d like that.”

“But for now”—Owen wanted to temper that hope—“I’m not doing anything. We’re fighting for the same cause, but… that’s all. Okay?”

“Y-yeah. Right, sorry.”

And they stood in silence again, and Owen wasn’t sure what to do next. He somehow expected this. Maybe, deep down, he knew Eon was still the same trainer he’d trusted his life to. It had to be reawakened… but Owen couldn’t be the one to do that. Eon had to find it on his own. And maybe, later, he could prove himself. This was going to be as hard for Owen as it was for Eon.

“It’s really okay,” Eon added, nodding. “I… I think it’s better this way. I don’t think, after… after everything that happened, it can just… flip to normal. I-in fact, don’t even consider it until this is all fixed!”

Owen let his guard down for a split-second, but then steeled himself, nodding. It all seemed so genuine. And maybe it was. He just didn’t know anymore. But Zena and all the others would be so disappointed if he gave in so easily for his old, long-gone trainer.

“Good,” Owen said. “And… thank you.”

That was it. His heart felt lighter, then. That’s all he had to say. Odd… it seemed easier to be in the same room, now.

Awkwardly, Eon picked up the dishes again, returning to washing, and Owen fell back into the old routine.

“Why Eon, anyway?” Owen asked.

“H-huh?”

“I don’t have that memory yet. Why did you pick the name ‘Eon’ after, you know…”

“Oh.” Eon blinked, like the thought had never occurred to him. “I don’t know. I don’t think I remember, either. One day I just went by it. Woke up one day, my name is Eon, and I thought nothing of it. I knew I used to be called Tim, but… Huh.”

A pensive silence followed. They were thinking the same thing. “Do you think it has to do with a Decree?” Owen asked.

“It might,” Eon hummed. “But what would I have to do with that? Nevren, I—I mean, Michael, he remembers his name the same way. That’s so odd… Madeline apparently never forgot hers. Ayame sort of forgot hers, now that she’s the Dragon Guardian, but…”

“I thought their names were similar,” Owen murmured. “Aramé. I haven’t met her yet. She’s, uh, kinda scary, from what I heard.”

“Y-yeah, she’s… time hasn’t been kind to her.”

“And Brandon…”

“He remembers, too. I think he remembers more than most of us, which is also weird to think about. What makes him so special?” Eon sighed. “Maybe it was just coincidence.”

“I don’t think anything is a coincidence anymore,” Owen said. “There might be more to it. But, Eon, I think your name specifically… Do you think it has to do with the time between Kilo forming, and us forgetting that part?”

“What do you mean?”

“That time when you were a Mew. I’ve only gotten a fragment of that memory so far, but you used to be one.”

Eon stared at Owen dumbly.

“You know, Mew. Like Star? I think you were a little bigger, though…”

“I… have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It was definitely you. And—oh, and I also think you… No, I’m pretty sure you were also Jirachi.”

“Are… are you okay, Owen?” Eon asked, leaning forward to feel his forehead.

Owen flinched back. “I’m fine! Seriously, I have memories of when I was a huge Charizard, and back then, I knew a ton of Legends! Mewtwo—Aster, I mean—I knew him, and there was this really tiny Arceus, and Azelf was—was…”

“I… think I remember Mispy mentioning something like that,” Eon said. “But, Jirachi? Me? I don’t have any memories of that at all.”

“Nobody does. I think you were split in half. Jirachi was here the whole time, probably with all your memories from that blank era I talked about.” Owen hummed. “And I think that has to do with a few other things going on, too. Legends that are weaker than they should be, or ones that don’t remember their past compared to those that do.”

Eon rubbed his head. “If I’m Jirachi, does that mean we should find him and… I don’t know, figure something out?”

“Once we have a means to get to him,” Owen said. “I think I heard something about him being in West Null Village. I don’t think Dark Matter touched that one. Latias is from East Null Village, too, so…”

“If they’re all the same village, why are they in totally separate areas?” Eon complained. “So confusing…”

“It might be something historical.” Owen shrugged. “Something to think about. Maybe when Palkia is feeling better, we can try going there.”

“Right.” Eon finally stood up and climbed the platforms back to the sink. “Um, I can handle the rest, Owen. Thanks for… for talking. I’m going to think about all this a lot. But you should get some rest, alright?”

Owen nodded. “Okay. We’ll talk later, alright?”

He turned, glad to be let go. He still wanted to talk with Zena a little, and the rest of Team Alloy.

<><><>​

First, Owen checked on Zena and briefly told her that he was going to see Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi. He wasn’t sure where Enet was, but he could catch hints of her scent nearby, and that was enough.

Next, he knocked on Demitri and Mispy’s door—he’d not want to walk in on anything—but got no response. The door was unlocked, curiously, and opened on its own. Inside he saw no bed and a few books that seemed to be about cooking. Owen wondered if Mispy ate the bed, or they didn’t buy one because of the risk of eating it. So, he went down to Gahi’s room next, hearing muffled chatter inside between him and Trina.

“Hello?” Owen called, and soon the door opened.

“Oi,” Gahi greeted with a casual wave. He and Trina were playing some kind of card game. Owen briefly wondered if this was really Gahi.

“Have you guys seen Demitri and Mispy around?” Owen asked.

“Evenin’ stroll,” Gahi said. “They always do it. Probably ‘cause the walls’re kinda thin.”

Gahi passed five cards to Owen; he and Trina shared a stack of small discs—tokens, perhaps?—and he realized they were playing poker. Great, what were the rules again?

“How’d yer talk with Eon go?” Gahi asked.

Thin walls. “Uh, how much did you hear?” Owen asked.

Trina tossed in a chip with a vine and said, “All of it, I think. Though, we only really understood half of it. You were growling and chirping for a while.”

“I—I was?” Owen was mortified. Slipping into feral when he was distressed… Wait, but Eon still responded. Did he just not want to embarrass him, or did he also not realize it?

“Eh, no biggie, we get it,” Gahi said. “That feral thing, right? Bet that’d be pretty useful. Oi, make a bet.”

“Oh—sorry.” Owen tossed in a token. “Two cards. Yeah, I guess I’m sort of… I had a lot on my mind.” He sighed when the two cards he got back were junk. “I want to give him a chance because he said he’d try to fix things. I just don’t want to fall into my old habits…”

“I think what you did was a good compromise,” Trina said. “If you’re anything like Har, it’s simply not in you to push someone out of your life completely. He thought about Eon a lot, you know. I think it still torments him.”

“Yeah… Same for Ax, Ani, and Lygo, I bet.”

“Mm.” Trina looked at Gahi, who shook his head and placed his cards down. Trina and Owen did the same, and Trina collected the round’s winnings. “I think, after getting to know Eon more, he is someone who was not ready for the power he was given. Perhaps nobody is. And he made terrible mistakes over an unhealthy obsession. A good person with bad choices. But it is not any obligation for you to follow him as he makes those choices.” Trina passed out a new set of cards. “While I ensnare wayward outlaws and mutants into my Bug army, I do grant them the will to leave once they have been calmed down. It simply takes time for that to happen.”

“I don’t really like that,” Owen admitted. “It’s kind of… creepy.”

Trina suppressed a scoff, passing Owen the last card. He started off with two pairs. “Well,” Trina went on, “I think I’m far better at keeping the land safe compared to what Eon does with them.”

“Ehh, let’s not do this,” Gahi murmured. “Like, mutants’re all messed up, yeah. But I guess we c’n, I dunno, focus on fixin’ that later.”

“Okay.” Owen decided to drop it. Trina’s methods were weird, but she at least seemed to care for more than just some obsession. He had to pick his battles. “Trina, why do you do that, anyway? You know, the whole Bug army thing. How’d you get around to doing that?”

“Mm. It just happened, really. I happened upon the Bug Orb a long time ago; it seemed to be unguarded. Star was there to help guide me through things, of course, and afterward I left for my own devices. I was hesitant to enter society proper, so I learned about it from lost souls in the Dungeon where I had found it. Curious, really. I didn’t feel the need to leave after I spent enough time there.”

“Why’d you leave so suddenly, then?” Owen asked.

And to that, she paused. “I, hm.” And thought some more as Owen passed in one card and upped the ante by two. “Well, your group asked. It didn’t really cross my mind until then.”

“Because we asked,” Owen repeated.

“Honestly, when I sent Har’s team, it was just a formality. I was already… convinced that I could go with you. Or, that it would be more interesting. Star had prompted me earlier, too. But I wanted Har to help convince the other mutants that it would be okay to go. It’s… too bad that never came to be.”

“Hey, it’s not too late,” Owen encouraged. “Once we’re out of here, we’ll try to pick up where we left off. Dark Matter’s in the way right now, but… yeah. We can still work through that. Okay?”

Trina chuckled. “You would say that,” she remarked. “Fine. No use worrying about what I can’t do anything about right now.”

“What’re we doin’ next, anyway?” Gahi asked.

“Nevren’s coming tomorrow with news, or, he should. After that, we can take on Dark Matter from both sides—Kilo and Void! Just like when Star took me over. Maybe if we get Anam back in control of his body, we can seal Dark Matter and, y’know, think of a way to finish him for good after that.”

Owen placed his cards down, grinning. He’d won, this time. And just then, he heard the door open from the main hall, so he nodded at them and said, “Um, glad you guys are doing alright. Gonna talk with the others before I get some sleep.”

Gahi waved idly and they split Owen’s tokens evenly.

Out in the hall, Owen didn’t see Demitri and Mispy and frowned. Must have been Hakk and Xypher coming back, so he headed to Zena’s room after all. He could talk to the others in the morning.

“Hey,” Owen greeted, smiling at the empty spot Zena had left for him in her bed. Crawling in and getting comfortable, he murmured, “Sorry I drew all that attention to you at work.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I, er, I think I understand what you’re trying to do, at least.” She shifted awkwardly. “Don’t do that again, though.”

“I won’t.” Owen smiled apologetically. “You know, maybe my job can be in farming, or something. A quiet life for a little bit. Dad always wanted me to be a berry farmer.”

Zena giggled. “Farming. And here I thought you’d try to avoid plants.”

Owen shrugged. “It’s growing on me.” He shifted around and sat up, restless. He still wanted to try something, so he leaned into his bag nearby and pulled out a dark compass. It seemed to be pointing to the northern part of town.

Zena’s expression darkened. “Owen?”

“What do you think I should do?” he asked. “I spent a few kilos on and off thinking about this. Why did Dark Matter give me something to locate him?”

“To control you.”

“But he can’t.”

“What if he can with that?” Zena quickly countered. “If you willingly let in something like that into your spirit… what if he controls you from the inside?”

“If what he says is true, I already have that in me,” Owen said. “I don’t feel all that controlled. And I know what that feels like.”

But Zena was still uncomfortable, so Owen frowned and only looked at the compass again.

“You really believe him, then?” Zena asked. “That you used to…”

“I think it’s true,” Owen said. “I don’t have any memories or evidence of it, but I think it’s true. It’s… a feeling. And when I get these feelings, it’s because it’s a hidden memory trying to warn me.”

“What do you feel when you think about Dark Matter?” Zena asked. “…Loyalty? Joy? Power?”

He hadn’t thought of that. He pressed his back against Zena’s coils and thought. Dark Matter, standing in front of him, he’d only felt fear and uncertainty. But if he thought about Dark Matter as someone he’d worked with before, what did he feel? Who was ‘Dark Matter’ in the past? He felt…

Owen held out his hand to a black haze. He said something and it shrank away, lashing out at him. Owen stepped back, frowning, huffing, saying something, but the haze would have nothing of it.

“Okay,” Owen said—this voice was clear, like he’d said it many times. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Owen took in a quick breath through his nose, not enough to startle Zena. He opened his eyes, though he stared at the compass only.

“Pity,” Owen finally answered.

“You wanted to help him,” Zena concluded, “because he was hurting. Is that it?”

“Dark Matter can’t feel positive emotions. They hurt him. I… I think I remember that. He’s miserable. I think I wanted to… help him.”

“That sounds a lot like Anam.”

“Yeah…”

“And look what happened to him.”

“He’s sealing him away,” Owen countered gently. “It doesn’t seem like he’s under Dark Matter’s control, does it?”

“That’s… that’s true. Owen, do you really want to use that compass? To… crush it, so that power will…”

Another long pause. Then, sighing, he said, “If you think it’s a bad idea, I won’t. It could be a trap. But it could also be a chance.”

“A chance to help him.”

“…This is stupid,” Owen muttered, tossing the compass aside. “I can’t… help him, can I?” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “We’re supposed to defeat him tomorrow. What am I doing, talking about helping him?”

He heard Zena moving around while his eyes were closed.

“It really is you,” Zena said, “to want to help everyone. I heard your talk with Eon, and… well, I didn’t understand all of it, but I think you wanted to give him a second chance. And for you to do that with Dark Matter, too, it’s… I think you know what terrible things he’s done, Owen. Not just for Kilo’s present, but so many spirits in the past. This whole world, the Voidlands, all of it. Does he deserve forgiveness?”

“Who said anything about forgiveness?” Owen asked. “I want to help him, sure… but just like Eon, he needs to make up for what he did. He needs to free everyone in the Voidlands, and then he needs to fix everything he ruined. We can help… but I bet it would be a lot easier with him on our side than if we just destroyed him.” He glanced away. “If we can even do that…”

“That’s… a good point. If Dark Matter is some kind of entity, we don’t really know if we can destroy him. But, still, Owen…”

“I won’t defect to him,” Owen added. “If he doesn’t listen to anything…”

“Then you intend to talk to him again, after what happened last time?”

“I—” Owen flinched. “I… don’t know.”

“It sounded like that’s what you wanted to do. Just… Owen, I don’t want to force you. But this is Dark Matter. You need to promise me that you won’t defect to his side.”

“Promise…” Owen squeezed the compass, then nodded. “Right. Okay.” He looked toward Zena. “I can do that.”

He held his hand forward, a golden glow emanating from it. “That’ll keep things secure. I Promise that—”

“Owen, no.” Zena smiled, pushing his hand back with a ribbon. “A promise… between us. I don’t want you to feel forced to follow me.”

“But—but that will guarantee it. If I defect, then I’ll lose my power. It’ll go to you.”

“Perhaps that dark power will, too,” Zena said. “I don’t know if we can afford that.”

“O-oh.” He didn’t know if that was true. But it was possible.

“And,” Zena said, “I think… just a promise between us would be enough. Don’t you think?” She tilted her head, and Owen gazed at her for a few long seconds.

“Alright. Then, it’s a promise. To you, and to Team Alloy. I won’t leave you, no matter what happens.”

Zena nodded, then gestured to the compass. “I’ll be right here.”

Owen sighed. Enough discussing, time for action. He hoped this was the right decision. He squeezed the compass a little harder; Zena held her breath. She was tense. Understandable. He kept calm.

A little harder. The compass was losing form. And then, once he felt a crack, it burst in a sudden plume of dark haze that collected along his arms and chest, sinking inside with a cold feeling. He felt tired and drained, but it lasted only seconds.

“Owen?”

“I’m fine,” Owen immediately said. “Sorry. Sudden. Do I look any different? Sound? Act?”

“Well, it just started, but no, you don’t look different.”

“Not even a little bigger?”

“That better not have been a reason you did this,” Zena growled.

“N-no, it wasn’t.”

Zena didn’t look convinced.

Owen searched for Dark Matter. That was what this compass was supposed to do, right? ‘North’ was Necrozma, but now he had a second ‘North.’ And it did feel different; he could tell who was Necrozma, and who this new presence—Dark Matter—was. North, just like the compass said. But closer.

A lot closer.

In fact, it felt like—

Owen sprang from his bed, eyes wide. “H-he’s outside.”

“What?”

Owen bolted for the door, but a ribbon caught him by the torso and Zena lifted him up.

“What happened to not leaving?” Zena hissed.

“I—I’m sorry, but he’s waiting right outside!” Owen pointed at the building wall.

“What do you… mean, outside?”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 119 – Darkness Rises​

Owen’s blood turned to ice. Zena froze in place. It came from where Owen had pointed, on the thin wall that separated their room from an alley between the buildings.

“Zena,” Owen said softly. “Complete guess, but… did Demitri and Mispy come back home yet?”

“They shouldn’t have gone far,” Zena whispered. “Dark Matter can’t come inside the city, can’t he?”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

No, he was unmistakably on the other side of the wall. He wanted something.

“Stay here,” Owen said.

“No,” Zena replied, and they stared at each other, both their breaths held.

“Then stay close,” Owen conceded, and they both left their room.

It was dark out, which meant nighttime thanks to the new sky. And for a moment, Owen considered going back and ignoring he’d heard the knocking at all.

The darkness provided little comfort. Owen’s legs locked up, primal fear tugging at the back of his mind. No flame. That was normal, though; he didn’t have a flame anymore. But his mind was tricking him. It meant he was dying, and he had to hide to recover. He had to hide.

“Owen,” Zena said gently.

He remembered. “Right. Let’s go.”

And there, between the buildings and in the dark, was a Charizard with a black flame. In his hands were the torn horns of a Goodra, which he made a point to toss away only when Owen was close enough to see it.

No introductions, no welcomes. Dark Matter only said, “I am here to discuss your surrender.”

This was different from the last time. Owen did not feel that same dark, oppressive aura that had permeated the air from before, and, looking behind him, Zena looked neither fatigued nor tired. Null Village was immune to his dark aura, so long as that Radiant Tree remained.

So for him to come so brazenly into town, knock on their building, and then request a surrender from Owen? It was silly. So silly that Owen laughed.

“My surrender? What?” Owen asked, and he was disturbed that he felt like he had been speaking to an old friend.

“Yes,” Dark Matter said, crossing his arms slowly.

“I think you’ve gone insane,” Zena said flatly. “Surrender? Why, when your power gets weaker by the day?”

“Where do you get that impression?” Dark Matter asked.

“Your influence is even weaker here,” Zena said, and Owen, emboldened, stood straighter. “You must know that we are about to strike you down.”

“Mm.” Dark Matter closed his eyes, and Owen had a feeling he wasn’t really weighing or considering anything. Was he only pausing so Zena could reflect on her own words? “You are wrong. My power continues to grow. I am here to accelerate things and request your surrender early and put an end to this tedium.”

Zena scoffed, looking to Owen. “Let’s go. I don’t want to risk him trying anything.”

“You’re free to.” Dark Matter shrugged. “I’m only being practical. I’m getting impatient.”

“You can’t even corrupt me.” Owen stepped forward.

Dark Matter glared in response, shifting his weight.

Owen pressed. “What makes you think you can win?”

“…Mm. I see.” The dark-flamed Charizard sighed through his nose, similarly black embers escaping. He walked forward and Owen stepped back on reflex; another step forward.

Owen took several more steps back, shouting, “Hey! Stop—stop that! What are you—” when Dark Matter didn’t stop, Owen blasted a volley of seeds at him, but they bounced pointlessly off his scales. Zena followed up with a Hydro Pump, aiming first for his face, but then at the flame of his tail. The fire crackled; Dark Matter’s eyes twitched to a partial squint, but then he pointed over their shoulders.

The ground shook and it felt like Owen’s chest had been struck by a massive fist. There was a loud sound like air sucking through a huge pipe, and then a ringing silence. Stone pierced his leafy feathers and he staggered back to see a whole building completely demolished. Chunks of stone hit the ground, cracking the ceramic pavement. Was it empty? Owen’s eyes frantically searched for bodies, finding none. But that could mean anything.

“I can kill as many as I wish,” Dark Matter said, eyes closed. “That was the home of an adopted family of three. None of them held solid memories beyond a few decades ago, and they came together by happenstance. Of course, they’re all dead now. They will awaken as hollow shadows, like they’d never even met.”

“What—YOU!” Owen felt his chest tightening. “Stop! What are you trying to prove with this?! He—help! Someone!” Owen spun around. The streets were quiet; a few people were peeking outside, but then shrank back when they locked eyes with Dark Matter.

Zena and Owen could only watch helplessly. None of their attacks would work. Where was Anam? What happened to him?

Another deafening explosion rocked his body, this time from several houses down. A scream accompanied this one as a plume of void dust rose into the air, blotting out the nighttime sky for part of the district.

“A single, lonely resident, living in the same home for a hundred years. He lived a quiet routine, waiting for the day something would change. There was nothing of value that he lost when he died tonight, and he will wake up not knowing where he lived.”

“Why are you doing this?!” Owen screamed, and, without thinking, he sprinted toward Dark Matter. All the Charizard did was shift his weight and blow a massive gust of wind at Owen, knocking him off his feet and back into Zena.

She fired another beam of water at Dark Matter, which was deflected by a black barrier.

“I’m proving a point,” Dark Matter said. “You are not, and never have been, stronger than me. You impede my progress. I concede this. But you never had any hope of stopping me.”

“I sure did a good job at it before!” Owen said, gesturing to the tree.

“You have, and I cannot destroy that,” he said. “That Radiant Tree of Life is your domain. I cannot overpower it while you are near, and I cannot defeat you for the same reason. The world operates on domains, and so long as I am in yours, I cannot win. Just as you can overpower and eject Star from your Grass Realm… you can do the same to me, should I stray too close. But its range is small and has no hope of completely covering Null Village. You were foolish to assume it could, living in these outskirts, the newly developed buildings at the village’s edge.”

Dark Matter paced. Every move he made, Owen positioned himself between him and Zena, as ineffectual as it would be.

“And what is the point of this, then? If you can’t defeat Owen, is this just for show?”

“Yes.” Dark Matter looked at the next building.

“Stop!” Owen said swiftly, and his voice cracked. “Please. Y-you made your point.”

“Have I?” Dark Matter narrowed his eyes. “I sense doubt from your partner.”

Zena flinched. Owen bit his tongue, holding his breath. Please, don’t say anything.

“You prepared those buildings to scare us,” Zena said. “This is all a show, like you said. All of this is… performance. Owen, let’s go. We can just—”

“Choose.” Dark Matter averted his gaze from his intended building and stared directly at Zena.

“Excuse me?”

“Choose a building.”

Owen’s blood felt like ice running across his scalp. Zena had gone stiff.

“Excuse me?” she whispered again.

“Pick one. Surely I didn’t prepare every building.”

Silence.

“Choose.”

“I—I cannot do that.”

“Then how am I supposed to prove myself to you?” He scowled. His slitted pupils focused on Owen next. “Choose.”

“I’m not—I’m not doing that.”

“You expressed doubt. I am removing that doubt. You have no reason to trust my word.”

“F-fine, I believe you,” Owen said hastily.

“There is still doubt in her.” He stared at Zena. “That this is all a trick. That even now I am playing mind games to force you into despair. I am not here for tricks. I will not lie to you. There is no point. So, choose any target you wish, and I will demonstrate my power, with no chance of preparation.”

“Can’t you hit—hit a nearby tree, or something?” Owen asked frantically.

Dark Matter growled. “What a waste,” he muttered, then glanced down the road. The edge of the village was there, along with a guard resting his back against it. He raised his arm—

“Wait—STOP!” Owen barked.

“Nngh, what now?” Dark Matter snarled, lowering his arm.

“There’s a person there!”

“I cannot believe how lopsided your priorities are.”

“You’re a monster,” Zena hissed. “We aren’t… going to sentence anyone to death over this. Over proving a point.”

“I’ll admit the first building was entirely my fault,” Dark Matter said, shrugging, “but I only struck the second one because you did not believe me.”

“But why?” Owen said. “What are you doing this for?!”

Dark Matter sighed, this time more forceful. “Because I am trying to convince you to surrender.”

“Y-you know, telling me that is only going to make it less likely.”

“I am only doing this to be completely honest with you. As the embodiment of negativity, hatred, and malice, you have no reason to trust me at my word. I have said this many times, so stop questioning why I only speak facts to you.”

The false Charizard waited for a reply, but Owen gave none. They both only glared.

Rolling his eyes, Dark Matter continued, “I cannot defeat you directly. That is plain and simple to see. Your light from Necrozma will counter any efforts to do real damage to you. Even if I attacked that one”—he gestured with a head jerk to Zena—“you would find a way to defend her, the rest of your team would emerge and drive me away, and so on. Still, you also cannot kill me. This is my domain. Is this a stalemate? No.”

He gestured to the town. “You cannot protect everyone here. When you strike me, I will retaliate with more forces than you can hope to imagine. I will overtake both Null and Kilo Village, and then expand beyond. You will live. You and any few refugees you can rescue underneath your precious Tree. And that will be all. You will be alone, without supplies, without civilization, and your tiny kingdom’s people will never be able to escape its perimeter without succumbing to the Void Shadows.

“All of their loved ones will become part of my ranks, and I will be certain to station the ones most relevant to them as the primary insurgence, so they will need to kill them over and over again just to survive. Soon, gripped with despair, they will join the Void Shadows so they may at least be with their family again. Resignation. Bargaining. Desperation. It will consume them.

“And then it will just be you, the Radiant Tree of Life, and an endless wasteland of nothing as you hold out for a miracle that will never come. Your resistance, now, will only delay the world’s intended and proper end. That will be the existence you will impose upon those you wish to ‘save.’”

Someone was weeping far away. Loose rubble from the explosions collapsed another wall, leading to startled cries. A cruel wind picked up loose dust and ruin. Then, it faded to relative silence again.

“Is that what you want?” Dark Matter finished.

The sheer horrific nature of what Dark Matter was describing to him felt impossible, like Owen couldn’t so much as register what had been outlined. He stared, wide-eyed, realizing how far gone Dark Matter had become. There was no way he could reason with this, was there?

“You still don’t plan to surrender,” Dark Matter concluded. “Fine. But now, you know where I am when you do. You are no longer in a position where it is possible to win.” He walked toward and then past them. Zena kept the greatest distance, while Owen only stared. His arm brushed against Dark Matter’s leg. He was warm, yet a cold tingle ran through his body where they touched. And Owen caught a wince on Dark Matter’s face. Owen tried to move his arms, but he felt paralyzed. His breathing didn’t start until Dark Matter was a whole house away.

That was when he finally collapsed to the ground.

A thousand thoughts ran through his head. Of Dark Matter, of defeating him—of being defeated. Of trying to befriend him, that vague sense that it had been done before. And the idea that such a prospect was long dead.

He stared at the sky as his vision curled into a small point. The stars twinkled above him, and then his mind faded to darkness.

<><><>​

The Wishkeeper, a great Charizard, presided over a small squadron of Pokémon, all of them battling one another in competing pairs. They were working in a warm, southern part of Quartz, where the air smelled salty from the ocean and the ground was a fine mixture of sand and dirt and short grass. Still, the beach was too far away to hear. The sun was high but mercifully obscured by clouds, only slightly warming Owen’s scales.

He towered over them all, standing at just over double a Charizard’s typical height. Every step he made shook the earth and, weighing an actual ton, he was considered an indomitable force.

They were winding down. Owen thumped his tail harshly on the ground, which caught all of their attention.

“That’s all for now. Let’s take a break!” He nodded, then smiled encouragingly. “You’re all growing quickly, but if you overwork, uh, you’ll just burn yourselves out.”

Owen walked to the far end of the sandy clearing and sat with a grunt. He’d been standing all morning and afternoon and his legs could use a break.

“Oi, Wishkeeper!” a harsh voice called.

Owen flared his wings and turned his head back. The exhausted training team tensed, murmuring to one another.

“What? How?” said one.

“G-get ready for a fight!” said another, exhausted trainee.

“No,” Owen said, holding one of his wings out far. “Stand down. It’s only four of them.”

“Feh. So it’s true. You can see auras.”

“That would be my mate,” Owen replied. “I just sense your bodies hiding behind the trees.”

Marshadow stepped out, but Owen knew there was also a Cacturne, Drampa, and Dewott hiding nearby. The Drampa, he didn’t even need Perceive to sense. The fluff of his large body bled around the tree trunk.

“We’re here ter put a stop ter Dark Matter’s war, here ‘n now,” Marshadow said, taking on a battle stance, hands forward, body low. A small target like that wouldn’t be easy to hit, and he was probably fast, too. Ghostly fighters with martial arts along with it… He trained Gahi, too. And Gahi was too hard to hit.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Owen said. “You trained my mate. Practically raised him.”

“He didn’t wanna fight you, neither,” Marshadow said lowly. “But now yer an enemy. The Void King’s best general.”

“And you came alone?” Owen asked. “Don’t you think that was risky? What if you were killed, hero?”

“Heh. Sure.” Marshadow hopped from foot to foot. “Enough talkin’. Let’s fight.”

Dewott was sneaking in the shadows. Drampa and Cacturne were going in the opposite direction, ready to flank.

“Everyone,” Owen said, glancing behind him. “Get a safe distance away.”

“L-leave? But, Wishkeeper, sir, you can’t…”

He flashed a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Marshadow seemed unnerved. “Four on one? Well, fine. Just ‘cause yer massive don’t mean I can’t take yeh down! NOW!”

Dewott, Cacturne, and Drampa all emerged from the trees and shot volleys of needles, water, and indigo fire at Owen all at once. He raised a single hand, conjuring a dome barrier that was striped with gold and black. The attacks bounced off, but Owen sensed that Marshadow had disappeared. Spreading his wings, he kicked off the ground. Gusts of wind sent the trio skidding backwards from his wingbeats alone, and Owen narrowly dodged a sweeping punch from the shadows beneath him. Marshadow had disappeared into the ground to evade his Protect.

Owen twisted in the air and spiraled downward.

“Geh! Hit the deck!” Marshadow shouted, leaping toward the trees just in time to avoid the worst of Owen’s attack as he slammed into the ground.

A wave of energy sent shockwaves upward from the ground, forming a crater beneath Owen and an outward pulse in the earth everywhere else. Nearby trees shook, but he held back enough to preserve their upright positions.

Owen huffed and stood upright, flaring his wings threateningly. “Last warning.”

“Or what?” Dewott challenged, still on two feet. Drampa had protected Marshadow from most of that, landing on the ground. Cacturne was pinned against a tree, unable to break free of her own thorny body’s hold on the bark.

“Or I’ll have to kill you.”

“Yer bluffin’,” Marshadow said. “The Wishkeeper I know wouldn’t do somethin’ like that.”

Owen stared, unmoving. Drampa shrank back, but Marshadow stood forward defiantly. “Like I said ter Mew, we’ll figure this out! Hah!”

“Y-your leader may be formidable… but I don’t see why we should stop now,” Drampa said.

Dewott produced a shell, pointing it at Owen. “If that thing thinks it can just wipe us out, he’s got another thing coming!”

Owen glanced left. He sensed that someone was watching this fight from a great distance. That was fine.

“That isn’t why we’re here, you know,” Owen said. “My friend needs to be purified with the Hands of Creation, and the ones who hold them won’t cooperate. If they worked together to heal him, this would all be over.”

“Fat chance!” Marshadow spat, hopping from foot to foot. “He’s gonna destroy the world!”

“No, you have it wrong,” Owen growled, clenching his fists. “The one who wants to destroy the world is Necrozma!”

But Marshadow didn’t listen. He kept his stance, as did the other three. This was pointless; they were just going to try the same volley again.

Marshadow shifted his weight to one foot, then took a slow breath. That was apparently the signal for the four to rush him.

Owen gave them no more chances.

From the corners of his mouth, blue flames sprouted. His wings tore themselves apart into a new, jagged form. The scales of his body darkened from orange to black, cream to blue. Then, they darkened further, and the flames turned a pitch dark accented with golden streaks.

His wings radiated a ghastly aura, and a wave of dark energy unavoidably struck all four of them. Instantly, Dewott, Cacturne, and Drampa tripped over themselves, losing their momentum and energy. Struggling to breathe, they crawled forward for only a second before, wheezing, they could only watch.

But Marshadow—to Owen’s surprise—was completely unaffected. “What—”

He struck Owen in the jaw, and the battle was on.

<><><> ​

“Gah!” Owen shot up, breathing quickly. Dizzy. So dizzy. His head hurt. Someone pushed him back down. “Wait—ha-hang on, where—”

“Owen, Owen, shh, it’s okay,” Zena whispered. “It’s okay. You’re here. Null Village. Your room.”

“What? What?” He was still trying to get up, but Zena easily overpowered him. It took a minute or so, but he finally came back to his senses. “I… Dark Matter… buildings…”

“He left,” Zena assuaged. “It… it was a warning. But he didn’t do anything else.”

Enet was crouched over him on the other side of the bed, sniffing his forehead. She was warm. Over her shoulder, Demitri and Mispy were watching with concern. Further back, Gahi was playing cards with Trina, apparently unaware that he’d woken up, or had just gotten bored of waiting for him to come to his senses.

“Where’s Tim—er, Eon?” Owen asked.

“Sleeping. Do you want me to get him?”

“No—it’s okay. Just checking. Everyone’s okay?”

“They are.”

His heart still hammered in his chest.

“What were you mumbling?” Zena asked softly. “It was so strange… You were talking about… Necrozma, and someone not understanding… You were growling, and something about shadows…”

Owen tensed. Should he… say that? Explain to…

They all stared at him with concern in their eyes. To the left of the room, even Amia seemed to be staring at him for one reason or another.

Yes. He had to tell them. No secrets. He’d promised. Who he promised to, he didn’t really know, but that didn’t matter.

“I had another memory,” Owen said. “I… I answered to the name Wishkeeper. I was training a bunch of Pokémon. Basic exercises. We were getting ready for some kind of battle, and I was confronted by… Marshadow. Marshadow and three partners he had.”

“What? He was fighting you?”

Owen nodded. “Trying to stop my leader—someone I called a friend. I remember… I was preparing these Pokémon as part of a massive effort to… to…” Owen trailed off. His heart was hammering again and he couldn’t calm it down. Before he knew it, Zena had wrapped her ribbons around him, and that soothed him somewhat. Her cool body against his leafy feathers quelled his anxieties.

“What I’m about to say,” Owen said, “I… I don’t want you to… get worried. Okay?”

“W-well, now I’m gonna worry even more,” Demitri whined.

Owen rubbed his face. “Please.”

“I’ll try…”

More silence. The concern in their eyes only strengthened, and all he wanted was to shrink away and hide.

Enet wrapped her claws around Zena’s ribbons and tried to pull Owen into her mane again, but Zena tugged back, earning a growl.

“O-okay. Okay, sorry.” Owen raised his hands, pulling free from Zena. He sat in the middle of her coils, legs crossed, hands on his feet. “…I’m…” He nodded. “Dark Matter didn’t lie. I was… I fought for him once. N-not only that, I was one of his main tacticians. A lead general. Maybe the lead general, I don’t know, I’m foggy on that.”

As he spoke, their expressions didn’t change dramatically. He was expecting them to. The fact that they didn’t unnerved him, and he kept talking. “So, that settles it. I really was partnered w-with Dark Matter once. Somehow, something changed, from then to now, a-and…”

“Wait,” Demitri said, the first one to break his stoic expression. “You actually believe that?”

“What?”

“Didn’t you get that memory right after using that compass thing? Zena told us.”

Mispy frowned disapprovingly.

“Well, yes, I—”

“What’s to say that isn’t some false memory?” Demitri asked.

“But it felt so…”

“Har,” Mispy pointed out.

“What about—” Owen hesitated. “That’s not… the same. Har was made from—His memories were just…”

“I dunno, Owen,” Demitri said, arms crossed. “Are you sure this isn’t just all fake memories Dark Matter tried to put in your head?”

Deny, deny, deny. Dark Matter’s voice echoed in Owen’s mind, not from manipulation, but from what he’d heard just the day before.

That was what mortals did. Denied what they disliked. But were they mortal? Was it all true? Or was this fake? Maybe none of it applied…

“This doesn’t change anything, though, does it?” Zena asked.

“No, it doesn’t.” Owen quickly said. “I still can’t, I mean, I obviously can’t condone what Dark Matter did! I just… It’s so strange that Dark Matter would have thought a fake memory”—it wasn’t fake. It couldn’t be—“would convince me to side with him. It won’t. So…” He sank back. “I guess that’s it. Tomorrow, we end this.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Gahi murmured, nodding. He hopped to his feet. “Yeh. Gonna sleep now. Demitri, yer gonna make a good breakfast, yeah?”

“Of course!” Demitri glanced at Owen for approval.

The Grassmander forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Good night, you guys.”

Satisfied, they all left, leaving just Zena and Enet behind to rest. Owen glanced at Amia, too, who had lost interest in what was happening and slid into a far corner of her cage.

“You think it’s real,” Enet said.

“H-huh?”

Her eyes shimmered in the dark, focused completely on Owen.

“What did she say?” Zena asked.

“You should tell her,” Enet growled at Owen.

“She… she says that she knows I think it’s real,” Owen replied softly. “But… that still doesn’t change anything. We still have to stop him and free everyone. That hasn’t changed.”

He could tell that Zena wanted to talk more, but he was so tired. Owen continued, “In the morning, I’ll… No. It doesn’t matter. We don’t have time, right? We have to kill him, or whatever. And—”

Zena’s ribbons wrapped gently around him, pulling him close. “It’s going to be okay,” she said.

That made him melt into her. He just needed to sleep.

“Right,” he said, feeling more at ease. Nothing had changed. But he was at ease. “Let’s rest.”

While he slept, though, he would try one last time to reach out…

<><><>​

Owen wandered a starless void. He walked ‘forward,’ but it could have been toward anywhere. His steps made no echo and the ground lacked any sort of texture. He worried that he would trip over something, but there was nothing at all. Everything felt thick, like the air resisted any attempts to move, but he pressed onward.

Trailing lights glimmered over his shoulder, materializing into a Jumpluff and Lilligant.

“Try this way,” Amelia encouraged. The Lilligant drifted left, adjusting her orange flower to make sure it was still there.

Klent, meanwhile, drifted ahead and looked left and right, bumping his pompoms together. “Mm, I’m not sure…”

“How can you tell?” Owen asked, feeling perpetually tired. “What is this… mental journey, anyway?”

“We aren’t really sure ourselves. In the Grass realm, or, well, the version of it where we are now, there seemed to be a new passageway that nobody remembers. It led to here, and we saw a great light in it, once. Sifting through your memories… it seemed pretty clear that it was Necrozma’s light.”

“Necrozma… Then I can contact him through here?” Owen looked up. “That makes… some sense. It wasn’t the first time I talked to him, but back then, he reached out to me.”

“Perhaps it’s the Tree of… what was it called?”

“It’s not really a Tree of Life,” Owen said.

“What is that?” Amelia asked, floating around Owen.

“An important landmark back when Kilo was younger,” Owen said. “It was filled with energy. A rainbow, prismatic light that strengthened Pokémon who were near it, and maybe the whole world… Xerneas helped to guard it.”

“What… happened to it?” Amelia’s drifting slowed. “I don’t remember anything like that, even in history books.”

“Must have been destroyed…” Owen rubbed his head. “I don’t know what happened to it. One day it… disappeared. But if I remember right, it was… somewhere south. Maybe a little southeast…?”

Klent seemed to be getting nervous after wandering so long in this part of Owen’s mind.

“Do you want to go back?” Owen offered.

“No,” he added quickly. “Sorry. Just, unfamiliar territory. Very strange…”

And then, in that great void, a flicker of light caught all their attention.

“Hey!” Owen shouted. “N-Necrozma? Is that you?!”

It was a persistent, golden splotch of light. It had to be him. “Can you—”

And then it overwhelmed them.

Blinding, golden light forced Owen to squeeze his eyes shut, and even then, he saw the light. He whimpered and covered his face and he saw the outline of the bones of his false body.

Finally it dimmed, but Owen was blind, and it didn’t sound like Klent and Amelia were faring any better.

“Owen.”

A warmth spread over him.

“How far you’ve traveled.”

“N-Necrozma…” It hurt to open his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you. A-about everything. How much time do you have?”

“Very little. I am using… what light I have gathered to complete this connection. We have… moments.”

“Then please, just answer me—why did I join Dark Matter? Was I tricked? Why would I do something like that?! Is it true at all?”

Owen cracked open an eye. Hurt less. He lowered his hands, then opened his eyes more.

Floating before him was not Necrozma, but a dim projection of him, a tall star with flickering, rainbow eyes.

“Yes.” Necrozma dimmed more, but this seemed to be of perhaps remorse or sorrow. Owen couldn’t tell. “It is true. You joined Dark Matter, and you were not tricked. At least, not in the way I believe you are thinking.”

“Then… then why?!”

Necrozma hesitated.

“Please, tell me. I need to know. Just be honest! What is it with you gods and not being honest?!”

“I am sorry, Owen. Please, be still. Calm your mind. Stress… will quicken the connection’s shattering. Stillness. I need stillness.”

That was very hard to do when Owen’s mind was racing. But he tried. He took his breaths, he meditated, he tried to stay calm. Klent and Amelia did the same, halfheartedly.

Amelia spoke up first. “Look, we’re about to fight Dark Matter. He feeds off of doubt and stuff, right? So, we need you to clear that up. Otherwise, that guy’s plans might work out!”

“On a basic level,” Klent said, “we know that Dark Matter is evil. Why, then, would Owen willingly choose to side with him?”

“I just need to know,” Owen begged. “Then, I can see that things changed. And… a-and I can, I don’t know, I…”

“You are lost.”

“OF COURSE I’M LOST!” Owen snapped, his tiny voice cracking. Necrozma dimmed dangerously and Owen quickly composed himself. Deep breaths. Slow breaths. “I’m… Everything. E-everything is on my shoulders. Kilo. Everyone who’s ever died in Kilo. The Voidlands, everyone here, maybe even Kanto, and all my past lives, and everything I don’t even know yet, what am I supposed to do?! I s-spent so much of my life following someone else, how am I supposed to know what to do?! I’m just a Pokémon! I’m just…”

“Follow your heart,” Necrozma replied.

“My heart. My heart.” Owen laughed, falling onto his rear. His hands squeezed his knees, tempted to pull the feathers out.

He didn’t. Deep breaths. Long breaths. Hold.

“Do you know about the Thousand Hearts? Because those are the Hearts I’ve been following for a while.”

Necrozma said nothing. He listened.

“They stood for working together to make the world a better place. To take outlaws…” He thought of Jerry. “And help them get on the right foot again. Anam… believed that no matter how terrible the crime was, they deserved a chance to correct themselves. That they could contribute back what they took away. I… I believed that, with everything I had. Now, seeing how the world is, what that forgiveness got us, I don’t know anymore.”

“Forgiveness,” Necrozma repeated. “Why are you bringing that up now?”

“Anam wants to save Dark Matter. In… in some way, that means he forgives him, right? For all of this. I can’t… understand it.”

“But it’s eating at you. You want to forgive. Not just Dark Matter, either.”

Eon’s screwed up, crying face etched itself into Owen’s memory like a scar.

“Forgiving people… giving them the benefit of the doubt… trusting them with so much of myself… They all took advantage of that. How many others are gonna…”

“You don’t want to forgive them?”

Of course he didn’t, he wanted to say. For all they did, they deserved to have all the suffering they’d put on him. Reflected back. Right?

His heart wasn’t in it.

“I don’t understand why I want to help them.”

“That is who you are,” Necrozma said. “There are people in the world who only want to help, at the expense of themselves. And there are those who take, and take, and take, until there is nothing of you left. Who in your life is like that?”

Owen thought about them. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were part of his team. He didn’t remember when or how, just that they were. Zena was there, around his body right then. She didn’t take; they didn’t take. Even Jerry had gone out of his way to get food for him. He wasn’t taking. Owen spent some time thinking about Eon next. Tim, his trainer. In the past, he certainly didn’t take. He gave and gave and gave, up to and beyond his very life. But then he’d gone down the wrong path, and… he took lives. All so he could take Owen back.

“What is Dark Matter?” Owen asked Necrozma. “Are you saying he’s someone… who only took from me?”

Owen wanted to believe it. What else would the very embodiment of negativity be, but something that takes and takes?

“Can you think of anyone else in your life,” Necrozma said, “who did nothing but take from you?”

He couldn’t. Was it because he was too forgiving? Was he blind? Was that what Necrozma was trying to say?

“You’re saying Dark Matter took advantage of my willingness to help,” Owen said, voice wavering. “Is that what you think?”

Klent and Amelia glanced hopefully at Necrozma.

“What does your heart say?”

“It says that’s not true,” Owen said, hand squeezing tight. “Which is why I need you to tell me… why I’m wrong.”

A pause. Klent and Amelia seemed worried again. “Owen,” the Lilligant started, “Necrozma is right there. How can you… tell him that? How can you just say, hey, maybe Dark Matter isn’t so bad?”

“Is that what you wish to tell me?” Necrozma asked, completely calm.

Owen’s eyes were squeezed shut. “You were the one who said we only had moments. Just tell me, a-am I wrong? Dark Matter’s going to attack Null Village in a matter of kilos and I don’t know what to do about it! H-he’s going to kill everyone and make sure I’m alone until I just give up! What do I do, how am I supposed to beat that, I’m just a Charmander! I denied becoming Solgaleo! Probably because I knew I wasn’t ever going to be fit for it! I can’t take on Dark Matter! I can’t take on anything like this…”

“Calm. Stillness.”

“Right, right, calm, stillness…” Owen rubbed his eyes, breathing harder.

“Calm,” Necrozma said lowly.

Owen shuddered, holding his breath. Dizzy. He felt dizzy. In, out. In, hold, out. Deep. Slow. His eyes were hot with tears. He was probably crying in the Voidlands, too. A phantom sensation of Zena rubbing a ribbon on his forehead followed. The breathing got easier.

“I’m running out of time,” Necrozma said.

“If I can’t beat Dark Matter, and he’s just going to kill everybody I care for if I don’t join him, and if I don’t even know why I’m fighting him to begin with… th-the only conclusion I can come to is the one I said I wouldn’t do. Joining him.”

“Is that what you want?” Necrozma asked.

“…I’ll make my decision,” Owen said, “if you tell me why I joined. T-tell me why I betrayed you.”

“So,” Necrozma said, “you betrayed me. You know that?”

“I—”

It hadn’t occurred to Owen just then, but he did. He really had betrayed Necrozma. And… now he was talking to him.

“I…”

“Owen?” Amelia asked worriedly. “That, ha, that’s just a joke, right?”

Necrozma dimmed further. “I have been sealing your memories the moment you arrived,” Necrozma said. “I have been unsealing them slowly. So you could handle them. If what you want to know is why you joined Dark Matter… I will give those to you next, slowly. But, Owen, I will tell you now.”

He betrayed Necrozma. Why, then, was Necrozma helping him now?

“You sided with Dark Matter because you wanted to save Kilo,” Necrozma answered, “along with Dark Matter himself. I sought to destroy both.”

Then… Dark Matter told the truth.

“Follow your heart,” Necrozma said. “You will make the right decision in the end. I have faith in you.”

“You… have faith in me. After telling me what you did. A-after saying that Dark Matter… didn’t lie at all.”

Necrozma began to fade. Owen had a strange feeling that the dragon of light was smiling. “You do not need my answer.”

“What does that MEAN?!” Owen screamed, like it would make Necrozma stay longer.

But that was the last of him, and Owen’s tenuous hold of this half-reality slipped away.

<><><>​

The air was charged with persistent dread. Angelo smelled breakfast from Shady. Smelled extravagant, like he was still trying to apologize for being responsible for his father’s death. Maybe after a thousand breakfasts he’d consider it.

“Mmbb.”

“Why should I?” Angelo groaned. “Maybe I should stay in bed all day.”

“Tsskk!”

“Like any of that matters…”

Shady gently placed a bowl of soup on a table nearby and slid it closer. It did smell good…

The Smeargle eventually found himself sitting up, taking his first bite. Then another. He glanced at Shady, who was sitting at the foot of his bed, his misshapen eyes downcast.

“Today’s the day,” Angelo said ruefully. “They’re going to gather up the elites and go north to the vortex’s center. And I’ll be here while they all curse my name as they die, because maybe I could have saved them with… whatever my talents are.”

His shoulders sagged. He looked at his finished art pieces. He’d done them all, aside from the next chapter of Druddigon Cube Ultra. But without a proper printing press—it was still recovering, and prioritized news rather than entertainment—it would be hard to publish the next chapter.

Oh, to be like the hero. A little dumb, but blissfully ignorant enough, and strong enough, that the world changed around him. How easy it was to live that life.

“Rrh?”

“Oh, sorry,” Angelo said. “I was… thinking. A-about what it means to have power. If… you have power, are you supposed to use it? Or… or can I live… as I want? I didn’t ask to be talented. Is that… my duty? That’s how the Arceans would follow it. But the Mewites… they’d certainly say I would follow my heart. Hmph. But look who came to save us. Arceus. Perhaps a life of duty was the correct answer. Mindless duty until I worked myself into the grave…”

“Ouuu…”

“I don’t think there is a middle ground,” Angelo said. “Not in a time like this. H-how can I possibly… halfway assist in something like a war?”

“Drrww.”

Angelo shuddered. Even working in the back lines terrified him. He’d be killed! They’d go after him for sure! He was certain of it. The moment he stepped into the front lines, he would be spotted and killed by the opposition for being too dangerous. This wasn’t some mindless feral—this was a god. A god that shouted his declaration of the apocalypse as his first act.

Shady had gotten near Angelo before he’d realized it and pressed its… Angelo assumed forehead against his side. “Aahh.”

“Well, thank you for the kind words, but it doesn’t make it any less scary.” The soup bowl was empty and Shady reached out with an amorphous tendril and pulled it onto its head. It hopped off and headed for the other room to clean it.

“…F-fine. I’ll go to the square and see what’s needed. From the back lines. I’ll prepare some Tailwind, or some other conjurations to help the outbound fighters, a-and… and I’ll get as close as… comfortable for…” Angelo’s heart raced. “Just… just this once. It will be a short battle. Just this once…”

Angelo held his breath and stopped at his bedroom’s exit. Shady looked at him encouragingly. He continued through the living room, then his storefront, and finally to the exit.

And promptly froze where he stood.

The gravity of it all washed over him. He was going to war against a demon that held all of Kilo in a shadowy grip. One that twisted Dungeons and summoned wraiths. He was going to witness some death march toward the vortex where Pokémon and wraiths would tear each other apart until nothing but darkness and blood coated the dry northern roads.

And he would become part of that carnage. Inevitably, he would die. Deep in his soul, he knew that would happen, and he collapsed to his knees at the exit to his home.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t do this. I can’t…”

Shady bubbled something but Angelo heard none of it.

“I can’t, I can’t…” He rubbed his arms, then wrapped them around himself. He couldn’t stop shaking. Visions of what was to come flashed in his mind of bodies falling and blood spattering around him. Wraiths clawing at his flesh and tearing out his living organs. They’d leave nothing of him behind.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there. Everything was cold. His fur did nothing. But at some point, he noticed the presence of someone to his right. Taller, an aura of power. And this person knelt down.

“Angelo,” he said gently, a paw holding his shoulder. “You look truly awful. Come, let’s go inside. Come on, come on…”

He obeyed without thinking, putting most of his weight on this person, whose body was thin in frame but with long, matted fur. Messy fur. It reminded him of himself, in a way. Oh, how long had it been since he’d even bathed, during all this? He must’ve smelled awful.

Once again, he was in bed, staring emptily forward. It still didn’t register who he was talking to. Everything was muddled.

“Do you need anything?” the person asked.

“I want to die,” Angelo said quietly. The words tumbled out of him. Did he even mean it? Why did he say that?

“You don’t mean that,” the person said gently, holding him more firmly now. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“They’re going to kill me. I… I don’t want to go that way. There’s nowhere for me to go. I have no way out. I can’t, I can’t, I…”

“Nobody is forcing you to do anything,” he said gently.

“Everyone is counting on me. I’m the son of Angelo, the hero. I’m the next in line with Mew’s Blessing. I carry the legacy of all Legends in my paint. And now I need to fight. I need to, I need to… a-and I’ll die. They’ll kill me, and… and I’ll… I can’t do it. I can’t do it…”

“You’re in no state to fight. You don’t need to.”

“I can’t tell them that.”

“You don’t need to,” he repeated firmly. “You’re going to be okay. Not everyone must fight, Angelo.”

“If I don’t fight, people will die. They’ll die instead of me. Wouldn’t it be better if I… i-if I…” Angelo trembled again, hugging himself, curling tight. His knees pressed against his chest.

“You’ll be of no use to anyone dead,” he replied. “You need rest. Understood?”

“I can’t rest. I can’t rest when a fight’s about to start. When the whole world is… c-counting on me, I… I can’t do it, I…”

“Angelo…”

“Don’t Angelo me; it’s very clear I’m needed! Why else would Phol visit me day to day? Why else would Rhys force me into training, or why would I be called for all of these… these clear hints of my talents that I’ve… wasted on art all these years!? I’ve wasted my life as a coward, a-and now I can’t even muster up the courage to fight when I’ll die anyway when we fail!”

Angelo weaved his paw in the air, creating the head of a great beast that opened its mouth to spew flames blindly forward. They barely did anything, couldn’t even scorch the wall. He tried again, but the Pokémon’s paw held him firmly.

“Enough,” he commanded.

Angelo gasped, jerking his hand back. Trapped. Couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t fight, couldn’t hide, couldn’t die. He had no options. So, he curled again, trembling, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m such a failure,” he whimpered. “I’ve done nothing with all my might. All because I just wanted to live peacefully, like it’s some great sin…”

“Hey!” a shrill, new voice called from Angelo’s home entrance. “Are we going or what?!”

The person next to Angelo growled in annoyance. “I will be there shortly! Go on ahead!”

“Your speed will need to be 150% faster,” buzzed another.

“I shall handle it.”

“That Smeargle coming with us?” the shrill voice asked again.

“No, he is not.”

“Then what’re you doing?!”

“Leave. I shall catch up!”

“Whatever. You better hurry up, Rhys!”

Angelo’s eyes shot wide. Those other voices were gone, but he finally looked at who was talking to him, feeling stupid for not thinking enough to verify. He’d been so out of it, all out of sorts, that…

It was Rhys. The Lucario’s eyes were tired and he looked like he’d skipped the past few nights of sleep, if he even had to. He was like a demigod to Angelo. Like all those other strange elites. And he was here…

“I…”

He’d said that Angelo wasn’t going with the others. Had he said that? Or did he imagine it?

“I’m sorry.”

“No. There will be no apologies.” Rhys sat on Angelo’s bedside, hand on Angelo’s wrist. “I was so focused on the mission that I didn’t realize all the true weight over your shoulders.”

“I still need to help…”

“You need to do what’s best for everyone, but that includes yourself.” Rhys pressed down, like he was making sure Angelo could feel the weight. “You are in no state to fight. You will rest. If you are needed, it will be for supplies in the town square to send our way. Your best techniques seem to be ones for utility rather than combat; put that to use when you are ready.”

“I don’t need to fight?”

“No.” Rhys stood up. “And that’s just fine. You are an artist. You uplift others through morale, not through muscle.”

Angelo was sure Rhys was just saying this to help his mood… but at least he was off the hook. He couldn’t shake the nagging sense of shame, though. A sickened feeling twisted around in his gut. All that training and thought and he wasn’t even going to go. What worth was he, then?

“You need to see the others,” Rhys stated, never taking his eyes off of him. “You have energy to spare and this is no time to feel weak. You are not.”

“L-Lucario can’t read minds, can they? I thought that was just a rumor…”

“We cannot.” Rhys held a paw forward, which Angelo hesitantly grabbed. Pulling Angelo to his feet, Rhys went on, “But I know the ebb and flow of an aura well enough to have my guesses.”

Shady bobbed its body excitedly, encouragingly.

“I suppose I can go,” Angelo said. “Where can I help? I’ll… start with resupplying more of those Technical Machines. Those were in dire need, right?”

“Yes, we still need more. Start there.” Rhys nodded. “Take care, Angelo. May this battle be our last against Dark Matter.”

“Right…” He felt so empty, but… he had to at least, at the very least, help out in town. While all the others risked their lives. “Um—good luck.”

Rhys nodded firmly, and then, in a single leap, crossed several blocks toward Kilo’s edge.

<><><>​

Alexander had chosen to take a gamble. Getting reports of Dark Matter’s movements and the rumors of South Null Village, he deduced that the attack was nigh. If Alexander traveled there by wing, he would not get there in time. He would need to travel even faster, and, therefore, had called upon the efforts of a small, specialized team while Qitlan was left behind to hold down the fort.

Leph, the lost daughter of Arceus, would alternate Teleportation with Aster to take Alexander forward faster than ever. Alexander would speed forward with them tied by darkness to his body, like chains. After all, he still was not sure if he could trust them.

That left Mhynt to ride on Alexander’s back, accelerating Alexander’s flight with her power. With this kind of travel speed, and the four of them at once, the forest below them was nothing but a blur of purples and blacks. Trees fell from the sheer speed they flew, and the odd shockwaves they left behind from the Teleports created small craters when at low altitudes. Mhynt was certain they’d decimated a small village during one of them, and Alexander teased her for that pang of guilt he’d sensed from her.

“We’ll need to slow down so our arrival isn’t obvious,” Alexander said. “But we should have more than enough time. I can already see that strange… tree ahead. A convenient landmark.” He tugged at Aster and Leph’s shadowy chains. Leph grunted; hers were embedded into her shoulders. Aster yelped; his chains dug into his upper back.

Mhynt had no such chains. Instead, the Treecko sat between Alexander’s wings, mentally preparing for the battle ahead.

“It won’t be long now,” Alexander said. “Soon…”

<><><>​

“Soon… this war for my Voidlands will be over.” Dark Matter raised a single, scaly arm to the air.

Behind him, in a clearing of Null Forest, a lake’s worth of Void Shadows writhed and swirled. The moment he squeezed his fist, they all stood to attention, that black sea perfectly still.

These souls were new and old. Some were ancient, here since the first war, powerful souls reduced to shells of their former selves, if that. Some were new, dead from the recent seals breaking after Anam’s downfall. These souls still had a vague echo of what they used to be, having wings or arms or even a shadowy face if they were particularly strong. He was interested in those… because they were already geared for combining into something greater. Mutant spirits… would be his ace against Null Village.

Ahead, the Radiant Tree of Life taunted him. It was a little brighter today. Owen was undoubtedly rallying the villagers, designating safe zones. None of it mattered. This was only the beginning of the end, but Dark Matter was patient. But he was not foolish. Any extra day given was another day Owen could find some way to gain an advantage.

Best to eliminate them all at once.

And with the mutants…

<><><>​

And with the mutants… Nevren was certain that Null Village would be bolstered.

“All right, everyone,” the Alakazam said to the mutants who remained in Quartz HQ. “As you may have seen, all power has been diverted from the lab to this room alone. We will be forming a portal to the Voidlands. I will send you all inside to strike Dark Matter. I trust at least some of you have read the debrief?”

Awkward silence.

“Wonderful. Follow your leaders, namely whatever Owen and those associated with him say. That should be easy enough. Now, Owen looks different now. I’ve been told that he is now a Charmander, roughly half their normal size, with green feathers and a brown autumn leaf for a tail. You will be fighting someone who can change his appearance at a moment’s notice; trust the judgement of your commanders and strike your targets. Do not go berserk, and subdue any of your allies who have done so. Are we clear?”

A few affirmative nods this time. “Perfect. Then if that’s the case…”

<><><>​

“We’re just about ready.” Rhys stood in the northern outskirts of Kilo Mountain. Far behind them was the ascending climb into Kilo Village, and not long ahead of them—perhaps only a short walk—was the familiar path that led to Hot Spot Cave. The entry had been blown open from the attacks a moon ago, and the vortex was swirling above them. There was a noticeable hole in it where the sky shined through, but otherwise it was the same as before.

Behind Rhys was a replica of Team Alloy—Har, Ani, Lygo, and Ax. Har’s Perceive would be invaluable. They could find supplies in Rhys’ room that they needed to acquire, if they were not destroyed, and there was also the slimmest chance that they would be able to find the bodies of their Voided companions still imprisoned inside. Their goal was to strike Dark Matter and rescue or take what they could, if at all possible.

Simple in concept. But as the sky rumbled above, the purple clouds expanding ever slowly, it would be anything but.

“We’ve got this,” Willow said confidently, hopping on ADAM’s beak.

“Hmph.” Step crossed her arms. “We shall see.” The icy Aggron eyed the portal. “If we see Dark Matter, I will fight him myself.”

“Don’t be reckless,” Rhys chided. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

Step thumped her tail on the ground, making a loud, deep rumble. “If he feeds on fear, I will give him none.”

She marched forward, leading the way that Rhys hesitated to follow.

As he stared at the vortex, he could only think to himself…

<><><>​

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Angelo murmured, stacking unused Technical Machines in one corner while sketching little symbols of light onto another. Shady bobbed confidently next to him, some of his eyes narrowed with determination.

“Nnn!”

“I know, but a… worse feeling than usual. Does that make sense?”

“Bbb…”

“Well of course it’s anxiety! But, well, I, er, oh, forget it…”

“Yo, Angelo!” someone called.

“Uyy…” Angelo rubbed his eyes and waved at the approaching, metallic Machoke. “I have it right here,” he said, gesturing to the discs. “All prepared.”

“Good work.” He gently patted Angelo’s shoulder. “Hey, by the way, Phol wanted to know how you were doing. He’s busy taking care of Tann—Emily. She’s been getting more agitated than usual.”

“Oh, do you want me to do some Aromatherapy?” Angelo offered.

“Yeah, actually. Take a break from all this.”

Somewhat grateful, Angelo ran for the hospital, though by the time he’d arrived, there was some kind of uproar with Phol right in the middle. A helpless Blissey was trying to console the Vaporeon—Tanneth or Emily depending on the day—who was screaming and covering in the corner. Meanwhile, Phol was attempting a full-body tackle on Leo, who was trying to crawl his way out of the hospital with a crazed look in his eyes.

Maybe I’ll come back later. Angelo spun on his heel.

But the moment he did, he noticed that the whole town, aside from the hospital, was quieter than usual. Pokémon in the streets were staring at something to the south, some squinting, some already running. Angelo didn’t want to look, but curiosity got the better of him. After finding a good, flat roof, Angelo drew a small symbol in front of him and swiped it. In a flash, he appeared on the rooftop, and then realized he wasn’t the only one. Several Pokémon had climbed up—mostly winged Pokémon—to get a better view over the crater’s edge and all the other buildings.

The sky was black and creeping forward. White flashes and a sickening, purple-black rain poured down. And to the southwest, where Void Basin was, a great spire of darkness pierced the clouds…

 

[Namohysip]

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, so a cave worked just fine.

Beside him was a beaten and battered Riolu with wisps of shadow—his former form—still clinging to his fur.

The Riolu stirred, groaning. Then, he gasped and sat up straight. “Wh—”

Owen thumped his tail on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He screamed and roared, punching ineffectually, until he tired himself out again. Only then did Owen release him.

“Awake?” he asked.

“You…” Riolu snarled. “What did you do to my friends, eh?! Where—” He pointed, but then gaped at his blue arm. He turned his paws over in horror.

“We tied them up,” Owen said, “carried them away, and sent them home.”

“Yer lyin’…”

“Why would I?” Owen grabbed an empty ceramic bowl and a metal ladle, then handed Riolu a full cup of stew. Next to it was a steaming pile of rice, which Owen offered next.

Riolu stared at it, suspicious.

“Really. Poison?” Owen replied. “Why?”

“Dunno. Maybe y’did, and—”

Owen dumped the entire contents into his mouth and swallowed, and then took the bowl of rice next and did the same. Then, he stared, making a new bowl for Riolu, who grudgingly took it.

“So, what, I’m prisoner here?” Riolu asked.

“No. Once you get your strength back, you can leave.” Owen made a larger bowl for himself.

“…Why?”

“To prove a point,” Owen said. “I don’t want to be your enemy.”

“Look, I don’t care what yer gonna say,” Riolu growled. “Save it.”

“All right.” Owen set the bowl down and resumed meditating, eyes closed. He could see, without his eyes, Riolu sizing him up. Looking for an opening. And then, wisely, deciding against it. But it seemed like Riolu wanted to say something anyway.

Owen took another, smaller portion of stew for himself, eating quietly, feeling awkward. He wasn’t sure what kind of small talk to make with Riolu. Maybe about the latest stories?

Just then, it felt like Riolu was about to say something, so Owen put those topics away for next time.

“Remi misses you, y’know,” Riolu said.

The memory drifted away…

<><><>​

Owen gathered everyone to the Radiant Tree, including Hakk and Xypher. After making sure Hakk and Marshadow in particular were away—in case Mhynt could spy through Hakk, and the same for Marshadow—he tried to hash out a plan of defense and offense. Scouts were already reporting strange movements to the west of town that usually meant Titan activity, but a lot of it. Owen was positive that was Dark Matter.

Then came the plan for those who had more strength. The guards were strong, yes, but none were Guardians, and none still had the strength of their living selves. Null Villagers were, in general, weaker on average than what they’d seen in Kilo.

“So, run this by me again,” Gahi said, pointing at Owen. He made sure to poke a claw into his feathery chest. “Yer gonna go, alone, an’ seek out Dark Matter personally, and we’re supposed ter be fine with that?”

“No, that’s only going to be if we lose,” Owen said. “I’m not going to let Dark Matter draw this out to the point where he can… whittle us down and force us to stay only by this tree.” He gestured to the behemoth behind him, which towered over everything else in the village. Up close, even Dialga looked small next to it. It seemed like it had grown.

“So yer just gonna turn yerself in?” Gahi asked.

“Yes. Because it’s more likely to stop everyone from dying if I do. I think he’ll only listen to me, out of anyone here in Null Village. But if I can avoid it, I will.”

“We ain’t gonna let you do that,” Gahi said.

“I agree,” Zena added, frowning. “This… this isn’t going to work. He won’t listen—you saw what he did! He’s beyond help, no matter how he was in the past.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s beyond help or not,” Owen said. “I said I could reason with him. If we’re going to lose in strength, then we need contingencies!”

“And the contingency is to… give up,” Zena said.

“Yes,” Owen said. “Strategically.”

“I don’t like that,” Mispy growled.

“This isn’t like you,” Demitri added. “You’d never talk about giving up a few moons ago. You’re…”

“Owen… talk to us,” Zena said. “Why are you so ready to give up?”

“I’m not!” Owen squeaked, clenching his fists. “It’s just… an option, now.”

“Now?” Mispy asked. “Why?”

“Did something change from last night to this morning?” Trina pressed, narrowing her eyes. “The only difference was that compass you broke. What did that change?”

“It wasn’t that. It was—I…” He sighed. “I talked to Necrozma. In a dream. And the things he told me…”

“Wait, in a dream?” Demitri asked. “Necrozma? Are you sure? What if it was a hallucination, or a false dream from Dark Matter, or something?”

“What?” Owen said, incredulous. “Someone would impersonate Necrozma? I don’t think Dark Matter can do that.”

“Doesn’t seem too hard to believe,” Gahi murmured. “Dark Matter feeds on doubt, y’know? Maybe he can, uhh… grow it, too.”

Owen flinched. In all this rush, he hadn’t even considered that possibility. False memories, false dreams. No, those memories felt real. His feelings felt real. Right? Were those real? Or were they implanted?

Pink ribbons wrapped around his shoulders, pressing him down. “Owen.”

“Huh?” Owen flinched.

“I don’t think you should trust anything that comes from your dreams for now. Trust what you can see and feel. Okay?”

Her intense, red eyes left him transfixed. He nodded dumbly. All that confidence was gone.

Look at what’s happened to you. The moment someone gives a command, you listen.

“No,” Owen said. “I think it was real. I…”

“Owen…”

“I know I’m right!” Owen snapped, and this time Zena flinched. Owen felt a pang of guilt, but he pressed on defiantly. “I’m not going to let more people die, or Void, or whatever, because of something between me and him. I have plans. I have contingencies. I’m not just throwing myself to him and hoping it’ll all go alright. O-okay?”

“Then what’s your plan?” Gahi asked again. “C’mon, don’t keep us in the dark here.”

“I… can’t tell that.” Owen looked down. “If I did, Dark Matter could try to take it from you if we get separated. I don’t want you to be valuable to him.”

“So we just gotta blind-faith believe ya?” Gahi growled.

“Hmm…” Trina crossed her tiny arms. “You have spent all your life in the dark. Well, a large portion of your recent life. For you to keep us not fully informed…”

“…Means you have a good reason for it,” Zena finished, looking displeased, but she relented. “Please, be safe, Owen. No matter what happens.”

“I will,” Owen assured. “Now, let’s get ready. Gahi, I want you to fly me up when you can, okay? Through that portal.” He pointed at the morning sky.

“Eh?”

“I think it’s the same sky as Hot Spot. Which means if we go up, we’ll be able to see what Rhys’ team is doing. The whole top of Hot Spot was blown open, remember?”

“Oh, right…”

“Nevren is going to send surprise reinforcements through the other portal,” Trina said. “From the portal he made in the Beammaker that’s tied to someone in Null Village, possibly Palkia. How odd, using the Voidlands as a means to travel between two parts of Kilo instantly…”

“I heard some Dungeons can be like that,” Owen said. “If the Voidlands is related to Dungeons, I guess that adds up…”

The ground rumbled. Footfall to the north. A tree fell somewhere.

“What was that?” Zena raised her head over everyone else.

Seconds later, an alarm sounded, howling across all of Null Village, and all of the guards were running into formation, some heading for the border, others falling in near the center of the village where the Radiant Tree stood.

“What’s taking Nevren so long? He’s never late,” Owen mumbled. “We should have gotten a signal from him by now…”

“Clearly this is the one time he’s decided to fall behind,” Trina spat. “He will have to send his reinforcements when he can.”

“Time to go,” Zena said. “Owen, how quickly can you see from that vantage point?”

“I—right. I know what to do,” Owen replied. “I’m tied to this tree. I can sink into it and appear on another part. Tested it yesterday. I can get up, come down and report what I see, and then go back again. No badges. They can’t listen to what I’m saying if I report it person to person. I’ll—I’ll give fake orders through the badges.”

“Clever,” Mispy murmured with wide eyes.

More rumbling. The sirens quieted, but everyone was ready. Shouts overtook the howling alarms next, and Mispy must have heard her squad’s name, because she prodded at Demitri and they both ran south. Gahi took to the skies, circling high above the Tree. Hakk and Xypher headed north. Zena kept to the Tree.

Owen, someone called—Klent.

What? Owen called back.

Don’t forget about us, if you need help…

Right. Owen could still send them around through the Tree, but… What if you get captured?

Then free us later. We have faith that you will.

Owen didn’t answer. He only nodded and gave Zena a quick hug.

“I’ll be right here,” Zena said, “defending the Tree with you.”

Someone tapped Owen on the shoulder. Owen spun around and flinched, quickly getting on his guard.

It was Marshadow, but he held his arms up. “Nope, no orders ter attack yeh yet,” he said. “Just sayin’, I still wanna help if Dark Matter ain’t tellin’ me ter not. If y’ever wanna send Dark Matter a message directly, I’ve got a signal er two he told me I c’n do. I’ll do it fer ya.”

With tensed muscles, Owen nodded, but then said, “I’m sorry you’re under his control.”

“Yeah, real annoyin’,” Marshadow replied, and there was a hint of genuine sorrow in his eyes that the rest of Dark Matter’s commands disallowed. “Anyway, I’m gonna be in that building. …Please win.”

Tearing himself away hastily, Marshadow disappeared into the ground, a trail of smoke left behind.

That just left Owen and Zena.

“Be careful,” Owen told her.

“You, too.”

He hesitated, but then gestured for her to come closer, like he had a secret to share, a quiet order or tactic for the fight. Zena leaned in, attentive. Owen pecked her on the cheek, then stepped back, smiling a little. “For good luck.”

She was stunned. Blinking. Her eyes had a hint of recognition in them, and Owen noticed a faint, golden glow where he’d touched. The light faded, and so did that expression, which melted to a little grin.

“I…” Zena shook her head. “I won’t let anything get to the tree.”

Owen hopped backwards. He fell into the trunk like it was water, swimming to the top.

<><><>​

The sky boomed constantly. It was a low, unending rumble that seemed to originate from the vortex above Hot Spot, one that shook Rhys’ chest and made it hard to breathe.

A chilling wind forced his fur to stand on end. The source was the icy Aggron that stood next to him. “Do not lose resolve now,” she said, staring forward unflinchingly. “The roar is a call to battle.”

“No, the call to battle is Nevren giving us the signal,” Rhys said.

“Will it be through another one of his pets?” Step growled, knocking her arms together with a deep, dull noise. “To take so many days just to supply Nate with souls… disgusting… A mockery of life…”

Rhys gave Step an odd look, but didn’t press the subject. Instead, he said, “No. This will be through Arceus, as intended. I do not know why he did not tell us about Lavender in advance, but I’m not going to question him. Perhaps he thinks there was a spy, somehow, listening to our telepathic conversations.”

“Perhaps he is rightfully paranoid.” She puffed a cloud of fog. “What is the signal?”

“Arceus will launch another Judgement attack upon Hot Spot. Only a single one. Then, if we need more help, we will call him for a second. We will see it coming.” Rhys pointed east, not really looking.

“…Does this Judgement appear to be trails of holy light?”

“Yes, that’s what it should look like. We’ve seen them before, when—”

“Signal.”

Those same streaks of light were crawling across the sky—Judgement, from Destiny Tower. Was Arceus already going to fire? Nevren must have sent an alert already. And forgot to tell him. How polite.

“E-everyone!” Rhys called. “The time to approach is now! Now, now! Ahead! Ahead!”

They were already dashing right away on reflex. There was an army of mortal support further behind—the best of the Thousand Hearts, numbering in the hundreds, all they could spare. They wouldn’t be entering Hot Spot; they would be firing at the vortex from afar, getting close without endangering themselves.

Moments later, Rhys heard from Arceus. Go now. Sorry for the hastiness. I had no choice.

We already are, but what? What happened? Rhys rushed forward with the others behind him. Volleys of elemental energy soared across the sky above. He glanced back to make sure everyone was in formation and other high-ranking Hearts were properly delegating tasks. Fliers carried ground-bound Pokémon to get closer to the vortex, aiming for direct hits, just like when it had originally tried to consume the sky above Kilo Village.

There is a storm rapidly expanding on the other side of the world. I see it across all horizons. Dark Matter is surely driving it forward as a preemptive strike.

What? Now?!

He was waiting for us to spread our resources. This is bad. We need to rush; going at our intended pace will lead to a pyrrhic victory. The rest of Kilo would be in ruins.

And finally, the Judgement beams of light slammed into the vortex from above, two ethereal forces colliding like a spear against a shield. Sparks of light went in all directions, most evaporating before it hit anything, but a stray blast left a crater hundreds of feet away from the advancing army.

Careful! Rhys shouted.

It tried to deflect. I won’t let him do that again this time… Go in! Now! I’ve got his focus!

Rhys could only hope as he silently ran ahead. Step brought out her mate, as well as her two daughters and Alex. Willow had summoned Manny and was now riding his head, commanding him to fly faster on his Fairy wings. Behind them, the musclebound team flew in formation. Azu, Roh, and Verd had gotten accustomed to their wings, while a curious other trio briefly caught Rhys’ attention. A Samurott, Cacturne, and Drampa. Something about those three were familiar, but he wasn’t sure why. He shook it off; no point in dwelling on Manny’s spirits.

How are the others doing? Rhys called.

Fine so far. Focus on your tasks and I will inform you of any change in strategy.

That would do. The entrance to Hot Spot sat ahead of them, radiating a malevolent, black haze. Rhys fired into it with an Aura Sphere, bursting it near the entrance. It was enough to dispel the haze, but he’d need to keep that up with a sustained sphere. “By me!” Rhys called, and their mission was on.

<><><>​

Hot Spot’s internals had been transformed into a shifting nightmare. The stone rocks were cold like ice, even to Step, who remarked that it reminded her of death.

But there weren’t any wraiths. And that was a good start. The ominous aura felt draining to wade through, despite the atmosphere still feeling, physically, like air. Breathing was harder. Even Step, who did not have proper lungs, made gestures as if she had to pant and take more air in.

“Are you all right?” Rhys asked in a whisper, worried that they would be spotted even as they walked through Hot Spot’s no-longer-familiar entrance.

“This land is cursed,” Step replied.

Willow had taken refuge between Rhys’ ears. ADAM was floating behind, buzzing and beeping. Even farther back, Har and his team looked winded just from the first corridor inside. Everyone else remained behind, leaving it to the Guardians, the mutant clones, and the former Hunter. They had Teleporters waiting to be called, and brutes and solid fighters to extract them should something truly go amiss. With the ceiling of the cave completely blown open, it made for an easy place to shoot upward with an explosive Aura Sphere, Hyper Beam, Blizzard… They had options.

Rhys reminded himself of that. The sense of dread was natural from an expanding, cursed Dungeon. He’d brought the few Escape Orbs that remained, too. They had options.

On a whim, Rhys focused his aura sensors and scanned the immediate area. Ever since he’d gone into the new, cursed Dungeon, he’d sensed nothing but malice in the air, blinding him. But he checked every so often anyway, just in case there was something to find in that darkness.

And this time, finally, there was. It was a faint and familiar light deeper in the cave, but Rhys couldn’t remember who. Someone recent. He glanced back at Step and the others, who were close behind. He made a gesture forward, then advanced, but a cold spot of ice nicked his back.

He suppressed a hiss and glared back, but then Step pointed forward, then to the left.

Wraiths were swarming about just across the way. He’d been so focused on the light that he hadn’t seen them with his actual, physical eyes.

This would be their first encounter within Hot Spot. Fighting just a few would alert the rest, and from there, they would be surrounded. They were outnumbered, and fighting mere wraiths would be a waste of energy. They were searching for Anam’s body. That was their best chance at finding some weakness to Dark Matter within the physical world, and he was probably deeper inside.

ADAM buzzed weakly and produced a curious orb from Step’s pouch. She glared at him, but he only held it up for Rhys to inspect. It looked empty, but when he tilted it, it gleamed like a transparent, glass window. Of course. If they wanted to get deeper without detection, this would have to do for now.

They’d modified it to work on everyone in a small area. They only had one. And with how many it would affect… It would only last a few moments.

Rhys glanced at Har next. The Charizard shook his head in response. He could not yet Perceive anything of interest. Lygo, Ax, and Ani were similarly alert, but they were present for combat. A pang of nostalgia distracted Rhys, but he pushed it aside.

A war was raging in the Voidlands. No use waiting. After finally nodding, Rhys whispered, “Stay close. We won’t see each other. Use Step as a beacon.” Because even if they were invisible, she was still cold.

“Do nothing foolish,” Step muttered.

As quietly as he could, Rhys activated the orb, holding it firmly. It brightened for only a moment—he hoped the wraiths did not see it—and suddenly, it was as if Rhys was alone. He saw, if he squinted, faint outlines of his allies and very dim dark spots where their pupils would have been.

And, of course, the cold chill of Step nearby. He’d have to use that as a reference moving forward—and Step, assertive, took the lead. Her steps were slow and heavy, and they had to be careful not to disturb any loose rocks. They were thankfully able to cross the first passage without those distant wraiths spotting them.

He could see that light more clearly now. After focusing more, and making sure they weren’t surrounded, Rhys tried to combine his senses. He saw… a statue, with his eyes, but the way it glowed in his aura sense meant it was alive. A living statue? That could only mean…

Yes, he saw it. Stone leaves. Firm eyes. It was a Shiftry, and wraiths occasionally passed him without a care. Perfect camouflage.

Rhys felt like he was being watched. The bright aura of that statue resonated with him. He was aware of their presence.

The arm, just barely, moved.

Arceus, are you there? Rhys called. This has become a rescue operation as well. I have found Valle. Inform Nevren and the others to distract Dark Matter when you can, if you can, as we go deeper. Valle is alive.

All this time? How?

I do not know. Perhaps he fooled them by already being a statue.

Then I will try.

Valle… All this time, he was here, enduring. Had Rhys known, perhaps he would have tried to rescue him sooner. But now, they had to go deeper.

Hold strong, Valle. We will rescue you soon.

He felt a warmth passing him and Rhys reached for it, feeling scales. He whispered to Har, “You can save him when we leave.”

Har growled back, but must have relented.

In the end, he really was a lot like Owen.

<><><>​

Owen felt useless. He sat on the tree, used as many vantage points as he could from branch to branch, and called down any orders to the ground level. Countless elemental attacks colored the sky in volatile and often changing lines. Clear water, red and orange flames, crackling electricity. All of it clashed with dark and explosive beams of seemingly pure shadows, like staring into a patch of blindness. From there, they would rapidly send messages to any squadrons that would need that information, and then Owen would run back to scout more.

Xypher and Hakk were among the flying squads that were more mobile, rapidly changing formations to give support on the ground. Most of their time was spent shooting flying Void Shadows that tried to flank outer ground forces. Compared to his usual, jittery self, Xypher seemed like a completely different Pokémon in the air. Graceful, deadly, and with a focused, lucid glint in his eyes. And every time he took down a Void Shadow, Hakk smiled with pride while helping from his back.

Meanwhile, Mispy and Demitri were near the northern edge of town. He saw Mispy’s large form pulling injured Null Villagers to heal them before sending them right into the fray. Nods of approval were followed by even more injured. Mispy even took a few strikes to her body, yet she regenerated almost as quickly. Apparently, her healing that countered even the strange, dark powers of Void Shadows was rare and potent.

Most of the buildings were still intact, even on the far ends of town, thanks to their hasty but effective preparation. Angry shouts came from squad leaders as less experienced Pokémon got lost in the chaos. Occasionally, Owen flagged down a flying Pokémon with a wave—emphasized by making whole branches of the Tree wave with him—and sent coordinating orders to relieve pressure.

So far, most of the assault was coming from the western side of town. Void Shadows infested the forest densely there, to the point where the ground was more of their black bodies than the purple soil.

Most of the Void Shadows were being taken down by ranged attacks; Null Village knew not to engage directly with them if they could avoid it. The scouting towers had been repurposed to sniping towers; the gateways had become barricades. There were even traps set up that acted both as deterrents and beacons for areas of higher pressure.

But Nevren had come late, and upon realizing this, looked distraught. A rare sight. But seconds later, he sent the first wave of mutants inside.

Above him, they descended upon Null Village and joined with the guards with relative ease. It was surprising how stable they were. Maybe Nevren had prompted them… or maybe only the most stable mutants remained after all that had happened.

The ground rumbled from an explosion to the northwest. Owen fell backwards and into a tree branch, reemerging within a bushel of prismatic leaves to overlook the battle area. He saw dark bodies flying around like ragdolls. Void Shadows. So, the explosion was thanks to Null Village. Good.

Movement caught his attention. Left. From where he was, that meant west again. Same location as Dark Matter, which he could feel in his heart.

Titan. First one. And a big one, but far off.

Owen slipped into the tree and pushed his head out of the trunk only a few feet off the ground. “Hey! Titan is coming from the west! Get our blasters ready and I’ll set up the Tree!”

A few heard him, but he’d been talking specifically to a Dragonite, one of the strongest guards in Null Village, who nodded and flew off.

Not sparing a moment, Owen disappeared into the wood again and stopped at the top, below the leaves but where most of the branches fanned out. There, he sat, cross legged, and closed his eyes. His hands felt hot from the energy within the tree and the leaves began to glow brighter.

Guide me, Owen thought in a whisper.

Spirits swam through the leaves, many of them strongly resembling Owen himself. Grassy Charmander that took his form ever since he’d acquired the Grass Orb. Klent led them, drifting through the leaves and at the top, while Amelia and those two mutant spirits he’d acquired helped channel energy through the branches. They drew from the crystal-encrusted spire that made up the tree’s core.

You’re aiming to the right, Amelia reported. Yes, right there!

Owen couldn’t see well through the branches, but he had his focus ready. It was too bright for his eyes. He closed them, seeing the leafy outline of his feathers through his eyelids.

Here I go!

A deafening roar drowned out any other sound as the luminosity of the Tree redoubled. A beam of white-gold light shot across the sky, leaving nothing behind but the Titan’s legs, which collapsed into a heap of disoriented Void Shadows. The rest had been dispelled.

Owen hopped through branches to get a better look, frowning. No Legend in the core that time, he remarked.

Left! Amelia shouted.

What? Another?!

There’s another to the north as well.

You’re kidding…

Owen prioritized the one to his left. It was a pincer attack. The Titan to the left appeared to be another four-legged one, but with a longer body, almost like a serpent that would coil around the tree and snap it in two.

Okay. I’ll get another one ready. Owen rushed to the center—but just then, he caught a shadow in the corner of his eye that shouldn’t have been there. He shifted his weight and fell into a larger branch, holding a breath he didn’t have.

There was a dark splotch a few feet from the center of the tree. He recognized the size—Marshadow.

Owen? What’s the holdup?

Marshadow’s there.

What?

Do I go?

Seconds passed. Then, Klent spoke. Just be careful. We still need you to fire off those beams. We can’t do it well enough on our own.

I can get Eon to do it. He’s a Guardian, too.

Or maybe a human? Apparently, they can channel this energy pretty well even without your blessing.

He’s both.

Owen steadily approached, emerging from the tree like it was water. The wood curved around him before settling flat. “Hey,” Owen said warily.

Marshadow was hopelessly strong. He knew this much. There was nothing he could do to keep Marshadow away if he could help it, and perhaps they both knew. He also couldn’t let Marshadow rile him up; managing the Tree and its beams of light required intense focus, almost like meditation. Heightened emotions was the last thing he needed when targeting Titans.

The ghostly fighter emerged in a sitting position, tilting his head. “Oi, how’re yeh doin’?”

“Going to get another beam ready. Don’t… try anything. I can zap you in here and there won’t… It’ll hurt.”

Marshadow held his hands up. “Like I said, I ain’t been given orders ter attack. Just ter pass a message.”

Owen wasn’t sure if he could trust that anymore… but he couldn’t waste further time. He couldn’t do anything about it. So, he focused on what he could, making sure his answers bought as much time as possible.

“Do you want me ter wait?” Marshadow asked.

“I’m concentrating.”

His hands were hot again. The energy flowed through his chest and back out, getting stronger and hotter. Marshadow’s form fizzled amid all the bright lights, but if it bothered him, he wasn’t showing it. Or Owen couldn’t see.

Distantly, a familiar roar—was that Gahi?—echoed. Then an earthquake, and laughter. Gahi was doing fine, it seemed. Crashing rocks and a speck of light suggested Mispy’s Solar Beam had gone off next. Keep it up, guys…

The fighting was getting closer. He shouldn’t be hearing these shouts from so high up. Were the Void Shadows advancing? Owen dared to peek, but the bright lights shot his vision instantly. He had to focus on the beam.

“So, how’s that work, anyway?” Marshadow asked idly.

Owen didn’t answer.

“C’mon,” Marshadow said. “I’m curious. Seems like this takes time, not effort. Humor me a li’l.”

Owen growled. If he didn’t answer, Marshadow could become hostile. He could give some information to buy time, but also sent a signal to Zena below. He hoped she would see a flower trying to alert her of trouble above.

Owen finally answered, “I gather energy into my body and feed it back.”

“Necrozma zap the technique inter yer head?” Marshadow asked.

Owen flinched, but maintained his hold. “I guess he did. Or maybe it’s a memory. I’m feeling things out.”

“Nice, nice.” Marshadow nodded. “What happens if yeh stop?”

“I… don’t really know. I guess I keep the energy.”

“What’s the energy?”

Was that safe to answer? No, Dark Matter must have already known this. Test questions? Maybe it was small talk. “Probably the same energy that powers Pokémon in general… It’s being fed in by the light crystals and the spirits of my Orb.”

“Same difference,” Marshadow replied, leaning back. “One is little pieces of Necrozma’s energy and the other is from spiritual energy, but it’s the same energy, eh?”

“Why are you asking me this?” Owen asked.

“Hey, like I said, curious.” Marshadow frowned. “Gotta know if yeh stand a chance.”

It’s enough! Amelia called. You have the right spot, Owen! Fire!

The second beam tore across the sky, this time to the southern, serpentine Titan. It skewered a hole through its long body and the rest of it collapsed inward, but that time, it withstood. Some of it remained.

No way! That one has a core!

What?!

Owen opened his eyes once it was safe enough.

“Yep,” Marshadow replied. “Giratina.”

The serpentine Pokémon floated in the air like it was water. Six spectral tendrils, three on either side, curled and extended like wings, tipped with red spikes. The leviathan’s face was armored with gold mandibles, and Owen could swear it was staring directly at him. Through all the beams of attacks that were going through the air, through the prismatic leaves, those red eyes bore holes through Owen’s skull.

“What’s wrong with her?” Owen asked. “I… I defeated the Titan!”

“Mm, not enough. One blast on a core? Nah. She’s still got that darkness in ‘er. Heh. Would be scary if I weren’t on ‘er side.”

“Giratina… I… I remember her. She was… Who was she? Someone important, someone who…”

“Ol’ Dark Matter told me, actually,” Marshadow said. “’Parently it’s too late fer it ter matter. Want me ter tell yeh?”

“Who? Who she is? Giratina…”

“She was a real tough one ter crack, accordin’ ter Dark Matter. Despite the whole… spectral appearance, she used ter be a real bastion o’ light.”

“Necrozma…”

“Yeppers. A disciple, just like you.”

“She was a supersized Pokémon…” Owen paused. “Just like Emily—!”

“Hey, now yer puttin’ it t’gether.”

Owen saw flashes of Giratina in his mind. Faded ones, distant memories. They didn’t interact much at all. And, for some reason, he also saw…

“Eh? That look in yer eye…” Marshadow leaned forward. “Necrozma unlocked that memory, did he? Or maybe yer seizin’ it fer yerself…”

“…Madeline…”

A Goodra. A Goodra who had a striking resemblance to Anam, all those years ago. Giratina was her other half.

“Anam—where’s Anam?” Owen asked.

Marshadow shrugged. “Last I heard, Dark Matter got him outta the way.”

“Out of the…”

Marshadow didn’t provide any further info, and Owen wasn’t sure if it was because he was ordered not to, or he genuinely didn’t know. Either way, though, that didn’t matter. The chaos was getting louder; the Void Shadows were definitely winning.

No time. Owen thrust his hands into the tree again and focused on that energy.

“Gonna try shootin’ ‘em all down?” Marshadow asked.

“I have to. Gahi and the others can handle maybe one, but… but I need to support the rest.”

“Yeah, I figure.”

He gathered more energy, his tiny body barely able to support it all. But he was a conduit. He knew how to do this. Somewhere deep in his memory, in his past, it was telling him what to do. A light at the bottom of a deep, deep lake.

“Hey, wanna know something?”

“What?” Owen groaned.

Before he could react, Marshadow was upon him, holding him under the arms and pressing him back. Owen flailed his legs but he was already off the ground.

“Let—let go of me!”

Owen used a tiny bit of that energy to dig his claws into Marshadow’s spectral flesh. It felt like dipping his hand into cold, tingly cake batter.

“That compass you broke is two-way,” Marshadow whispered to Owen. “Sorry, I gotta hold ya still.”

“What for?!”

“You ain’t the only one who can fire from far off.”

Owen struggled more, eyes darting left to a movement that he’d seen. His eyes locked with Zena’s. Fury. And then a Hydro Pump that went directly over his shoulder, but Marshadow had pivoted to dodge it completely.

Snarling, the Milotic advanced, but Marshadow spared an arm to point a Shadow Ball at her. At that range, with Marshadow’s corrupt powers… No!

And again, in the corner of his vision, he saw something coming. Rapidly. A dark beam of energy that sizzled in the air, whistling as it pushed the Voidlands’ atmosphere aside.

Something primal took over. In that split second, Owen pulled his head back, felt his own neck bones strain from the contortion, and swung forward. He chomped down on Marshadow’s arms. He didn’t wait for a reaction; he chomped harder, ready to break his own jaw if it meant applying more force, and channeled some of the tree’s energy into his teeth.

Marshadow cried in pain and that drove Owen’s instincts harder. He thrashed, shaking his head, felt something rip between his teeth as an acrid ooze filled his sense of taste and smell. Zena was probably trying to get a good hit in, but they were moving too much. He felt ribbons grab his arm; he tried to follow them.

He jerked his whole body aside and focused, trying to cross his arms. He couldn’t, but it was enough; a golden barrier appeared before him, narrowly blocking the blast from Giratina. If it hit his Protect, he hoped it missed Zena. He heard her cry his name, but she sounded distant.

But then he realized the ground was no longer below him. When he opened his eyes—after only a brief flinch—he was flying through the air. Falling. And the tree was already far, far away.

 

[Namohysip]

Chapter 121 – Shockwaves​

Owen awoke to the brief sounds of struggle down the hall. It was close. Too close. In the dark halls, he could only rely on his second sight to guess what it was.

One of the guards shrieked, but was abruptly silenced after a strong thunk. Someone was about to cry out for support, but a flash of light silenced that one, too. A small body was thrown across the caverns into a crumpled, groaning heap next, and then a figure cloaked in light sprinted into Owen’s view.

The great Charizard had less than a second to react, and in that time, he could only sit a quarter of the way up and tune his Perceive. He raised an arm to fire at what came, but it weaved out of the way deftly, and Owen felt the dull of a Leaf Blade against his throat.

Staring into his eyes were a pair of yellow irises and reptilian pupils. They shined with energy and light.

“Hi, Dad!” she whispered cheerfully. The Sceptile’s great tail rattled noisily, as if she had energy to spare after being quiet for so long.

“Hi, Remi…” Befuddled, Owen pushed her so he could get up, and she complied. "Did you just infiltrate the Lightless Labyrinth to see me?"

"Mhm!"

"How many guards did you beat up?"

"Uhhh..." She counted on her claws, quickly running out.

Owen sighed harshly and grasped her arm.

“Hey!”

“I’m walking you out.” He marched, practically dragging her. He walked past several guards, all of them too dizzy to so much as stand. Remi had struck them all with the dull of her Leaf Blades expertly. Had it been any other circumstance, he would have been proud.

He wasn’t sure why, but it was becoming hard to move, and his head and the whole world felt fuzzy.

“Don’t forget, Dad, he fights dirty!”

Owen blinked. The caverns around him melted into clouds of dust. “What?”

“He follows you in your shadow. But he can’t chase you if it’s too bright!”

She dissolved from his grasp.

<><><>​

Owen landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. His small size and light form had spared him from serious injury. He wondered, dizzily, if his feathery body had contributed.

With a groan, he slowly got to his feet, but then some primal part of him alerted him and he ducked. An instant later, something burned the feathers on his scalp, leaving behind a shadowy residue that felt cold and tingly.

“Nice reflex,” Marshadow said. “Ain’t gonna miss a second time, though.”

“Wait,” Owen said quickly. “M-Marshadow, don’t you remember? Remember fighting Dark Matter in the past… back when he was the Void King?”

“Void King…” Marshadow nodded. “I think I remember that… rings a bell.”

“Do you remember… fighting me? The Wishkeeper?”

Another long pause, but there wasn’t as much recognition in his hum. “Guess I fergot that one. Lost ter the void.”

“You used to fight… against Dark Matter, Marshadow! You were a hero! You had… a partner. No, three of them!” Owen tried to press on. “Remember! A Drampa, a Dewott, maybe a Samurott now, and a Cacturne!”

Marshadow looked strained, like he was trying to recall, but nothing came.

“You were a Riolu,” Owen said. “Your mortal body was a Riolu!”

“I ain’t got any of those memories, kid,” Marshadow said. “Yer gonna be fightin’ a losin’ battle. I lost those ter the void a long time ago.”

“But you can still get them back,” Owen urged. “Fight it! Come on!” Because he certainly couldn’t fight Marshadow himself.

Distantly but omnipresent around them, elemental attacks catapulted through the air, clashing with dark energy from the outer perimeters. The Void Shadows were advancing and ground troops were rushing to meet them. If any fell, they were at risk to join Dark Matter’s ranks.

“Heh, look at you,” Marshadow said with a grin. “Yer a riot. Tryin’ ter buy time when the town’s fallin’ around yeh.”

It was true. Even now, there were distant shouts and explosions and they were coming closer. Flying Pokémon bombarded the Void Shadow front lines with as many elemental attacks, gusts of wind, and falling explosions and rocks as their stamina could muster. There were some points where portions of the sky were more of elements than clouds. While most Void Shadows were ground-bound, some were able to fly, but the Null Villagers’ formations were too tight to allow impersonators among their ranks. Every second was accompanied by a distant rumble. The directions were becoming hard to distinguish. Rarely, a shriek from one of the Titans shook loose dust from the rooftops.

Owen wasn’t sure if his lightheadedness was coming from those sounds, the adrenaline of facing Marshadow down, or the amount of energy still coursing through his body that he couldn’t send back to the Tree. If Amelia, Klent, and the others were calling out to him, he couldn’t hear it.

The standoff didn’t last long. Marshadow shifted his weight; Owen brought up his arms, narrowly blocking a shadowy fist. He tried backing away next, but rubble on the ground tripped him and he fell backwards.

He never hit the floor. Marshadow’s kick was faster, sending him over one of the buildings. He couldn’t breathe. Marshadow leapt and grabbed him from behind; his body was cold and tendrils of darkness lengthened his arms. The shadowy fighter twisted in the air and aimed Owen’s skull toward a nearby rooftop.

Thinking fast, Owen twisted back and curled inward, flipping in midair. He tried to draw from his inner fire—what little he had in this form—but couldn’t get anything. Instead, he coughed up an ineffectual Seed Bomb that popped in Marshadow’s face. The flashbang was a distraction; Owen jerked his whole body to the left and narrowly avoided the rooftop, tumbling out of Marshadow’s grip and onto the ground a story below.

Wheezing, Owen took only two steps away before Marshadow landed on him with a downward punch. He’d blacked out for half a second. When he woke up, he was face-down in the ruined ceramic path with green blood pooling around his head.

Owen thought he said something, but he didn’t understand his own words. He stood up, but a jab to his back downed him again.

“Y’know,” Marshadow growled, “this ain’t makin’ it easy. Just follow me and we’ll finish this, eh?”

“Why…” Owen spat to clear his mouth. Was he missing a tooth? Oh, there it was, a foot away. He liked that fang.

Marshadow grabbed Owen by the scruff of his neck and pulled him to his feet. He wobbled there.

“Surrender.”

“Can’t.”

Owen woke up with a terrible headache, back embedded into a house. Marshadow was walking toward him with a blank expression a few houses away. He felt the back of his head; his leafy feathers were sticking together from a wound.

Can’t. Why did he say that? Owen had literally said surrender was an option only a little while ago. But some defiant part of him said otherwise.

From where he was, Owen could see Titans looming within Null Village, held back by the front lines, but slowly, but inevitably, advancing. By now the outer rim of houses were completely destroyed and flattened. Livelihoods gone, memories in the form of games and books and rooms lost to the battle.

Surrendering… would save everyone. The Titans are gaining on us. And I’m not at the Tree. If I surrender now, will Dark Matter stop… just for a little while?

Lose now, lose later…

Marshadow was taking his sweet time approaching. Maybe he knew there was no way out for Owen.

If I give up… will that save everyone? What if I talk to Dark Matter? Reason with him? Maybe he’ll make a better world. I believed that before, didn’t I? And Necrozma… He’s just another god sealing my memories. The only one who’s been trying to unlock them is Dark Matter. He’s the only one who understands… how awful it felt to realize it was all fake. Because of course he’d know about how awful something feels…

Marshadow was a house away. But he slowed his pace more, tilting his head. “That look in yer eye,” he called over. “Yer shoulders’re slumped. You done?”

Am I? Owen pulled himself out of the house and staggered onto the ground, falling on all fours. He wobbled up. The dizziness left him as he took longer, steadier breaths. Little pulses of gold light patched up his wounds, remnant energy from the Tree.

“Say the word, and we c’n stop all this,” Marshadow said gently. “We don’t gotta fight. My orders’re simple. Get the Charmander to surrender.”

Owen’s breathing paused as a thought crossed his mind. “That’s how he said it?”

“Nah. He said, get yeh. But I asked, hey, so track down the Charmander? And he waved an’ said hurry up. Took that as a yes, heh.” Marshadow crossed his arms. “So, surrender? Otherwise…”

Owen’s mind raced. He forgot about surrendering when Marshadow asked, because now he had a new idea. “Before I do, I want you to answer some questions,” he said. “So I know I’m making the right choice.”

Marshadow regarded him with a suspicious air, but then huffed. “Alright. I’ll give yeh… two questions.” He held up fingers to match.

He only needed one. “If Dark Matter wasn’t controlling you, but you still knew everything he told you, would you still fight for him?”

“Aw, now that’s a question I almost wanna say costs double,” Marshadow replied with a wry smile. “Testin’ my loyalties? Well, that ain’t gonna work, buddy. So long as Dark Matter’s got me, I ain’t gonna go against ‘im.”

Owen sighed, looking displeased, but that was exactly the answer he wanted to hear. Marshadow was speaking in code. “Fine, fine. One more question, then?”

“Yeah, fine. One question left.”

“Fine.” Only needed one more anyway. There was something fast in the distance, and green, and that was enough for him. “Did you know about that thing behind you?”

“Really?” Marshadow looked genuinely disappointed.

Owen shrugged, smiling bloodily.

“Guess I hit yeh too hard. All yer wits’re—”

<><><>​

“Impressive punch,” Nevren hummed, peering over the side of the portal with a Zoom Lens over his eyes. He twisted a knob on the top and got a closer look at the clash, barely able to keep up with the wraith that he identified—if only by the speed alone—as Gahi. He had punched a tiny wraith, who had been striking an even tinier wraith that had been shot from the top of the tree.

Which was likely Owen. Not good.

But now, Owen was running away! Quite good.

“All right, I would like squadrons three into seven heading in next. I will be directing you to handle the eastern district. For those who cannot tell, that is in this direction from our relative standpoints.”

Nevren stood up, but just before he could leave to organize, a wraith flew up to the portal.

“Nevren!”

He was still startled by their distorted voices. “Yes?” The Alakazam removed his Zoom Lens.

“When will the reinforcements be coming? We need more now—there’s a third Titan coming!”

“Very soon. Tell them three squadrons will be coming. How are the ones I sent so far?”

“Fighting very well. I’ll tell them.”

Once the wraith flew away, Nevren sighed and commanded several more of the mutant leaders. Among them was a Tauros, Roserade, and icy Ninetales.

“So, what, we’re in next, right?” Ninetales asked, pawing at his face to groom.

“Yes, you will be. Keep to cautious efforts for now.”

“Pbbb, boring… Fine, fine, don’t glare.”

“I wasn’t glaring. I was merely expressing disappointment.”

“Yuh-huh.” The Ninetales nodded at the Tauros and Roserade next, then spread his tails. “Let’s go!”

Nevren had been rushing them a little, but that was largely because, somehow, they were off schedule. He had timed himself perfectly to the Voidlands’ time, which, as far as he could tell, ran at the same rate that Kilo did. Despite this, he had been several minutes late, to the point where Dark Matter had gotten a head start on the assault with no mutants to help.

No matter. They were back on track now.

The ground shook, and that didn’t sound like mutants preparing, either. After quickly glancing at the battlefield to make sure everything was going smoothly—or as smoothly as one could hope—he Teleported a few blinks through the halls, up the floors, and to the surface.

Instantly, he was pelted with a rain that stung him in more than just his body. He hissed as some of it got in his eyes, nearly blinding him. “What—”

This rain and flashes of light instantly ate away at his energy. He disappeared a floor below, wheezing, collapsing to his knees. He looked his hands over, then his arms. No wounds, yet the rain felt corrosive. To his aura? His hands were trembling. Flashes of that cursed forest echoed in his mind, where he’d seen Anam’s decayed body, where he and Mispy had died several times, saved only by his Revisor.

That was it. That was the same power. Ghost? No, it couldn’t be that. This went deeper. He knew that, now. It was a different element entirely. Shadow… Yes. It had to be Shadow.

Nevren step-Teleported his way down the hall—his equivalent of running—until he got to the entrance to Quartz HQ. The way opened to sand soaked in dark-tinged water like free-flowing ink. Some of it washed into the hall and he put up a small Psychic barrier to keep it from flooding.

He braved the storm, this time prepared. He held a barrier above him like an umbrella and floated over the black water. He winced at the sting of a few stray splashes, and hoped that his Psychics would be enough to keep the rest away for a time, as he searched for the source.

Flying in the dark clouds with silver, glowing eyes was the unmistakable form of Lugia. It was a great leviathan’s silhouette, wings beating and parting the clouds only to reveal even darker, purple clouds behind it. He was facing down a god.

The air twisted around him. Water splashed and kicked up. The clouds formed a vortex, and Nevren realized too late that it was an incoming Aeroblast. His Psychic barrier twisted apart and he clicked on his Revisor just in time to only have part of his body twisted and cut into ribbons.

And then he was standing by the Voidlands’ portal again. The respite lasted an instant; right after, a horrible, deafening BANG knocked him sideways, shaking his insides. He was pretty sure an organ or two ruptured. He coughed and tried to look through blurry vision.

What? When did an explosion happen 90 seconds ago?

On reflex, he pressed a hand on his chest, a healing aura of Recover bringing him back to proper health. Or decent health. He was still dazed and bruised, but he didn’t want to spend the extra time healing.

There was a routine he had to follow first. What had he done a moment ago? Right—Reinforcements. Squadrons.

“Sorry for that,” Nevren dismissed to the startled-looking wraith that was by the portal. “Tell them three squadrons will be coming. How are the ones I sent so far?”

“…Three more?” the wraith asked. “You just sent three.”

So, we’re next, right? Nevren remembered, looking toward the icy Ninetales who wasn’t there.

Who wasn’t there.

What?

What?

“Nevren, are you okay? What happened?”

“What?” Nevren, suddenly feeling lost and confused, darted his eyes left and right to find his missing squadrons. There were tiny cracks on the ground where they had once been.

“You sent those squadrons in. What was that explosion? Why did you Teleport back here?”

Nevren looked into the portal to see the icy Ninetales speaking with Zena by the Tree. Zena looked frantic. The rest of his team was there, nodding and getting a quick debrief, and then they left toward one of the Titans.

The Revisor didn’t work.

No, it worked on him. It worked on most things. But not the team he’d sent into the Voidlands. Did it not reach into that domain?

Then that explosion… It was like a vacuum wave of pressure. Where their bodies had once been, there was a vacuum. The air pressure, yes! It must have collapsed… It must not be a perfect vacuum, because Nevren had a feeling a true one would have been even louder, perhaps lethal. Aside from his ruptured organs, at least.

“Nothing to worry about,” Nevren said. After counting the seconds, he disappeared for the entrance again, then counted for a few seconds longer. He didn’t want to relive those shockwaves, so he let those seconds pass, forever solidified, and finally opened the door. The rain was the same. The bright lights of Quartz HQ bled into the darkened ground despite it supposedly being noontime. When Nevren listened quietly, he was sure he heard wingbeats, but they were large and far away.

Lugia wouldn’t come here if he kept hidden, right? He could only hope.

Just in case, Nevren would have to put a few more experimental projects to work. He disappeared into his room and picked up three gadgets. One had pink crystals within a lightbulb-like mechanism—his portable Dungeon. The other looked like an experimental Wand, much like the ones he had attempted to create, probably no longer usable in the Heart HQ. And the last one was a haphazardly puzzled together rifle that stored a pulsing, white energy rather than bullets.

He glanced at his Revisor. Perhaps, with some luck, he would be prepared.

It was awfully windy, Nevren realized.

Quartz HQ shouldn’t have wind. And with only a few instances to react, a cutting gale blew open the entrance to the labyrinth, and alarms sounded throughout the facility.

Lugia had broken in.

<><><>​

The invisibility was wearing off. Rhys had thought it would last much longer; was the enchantment weaker, or was the distortion of Hot Spot stronger?

It didn’t matter now. Around him, very faint outlines of his allies reminded him of their presence and their perilous state. Valle was far behind them, but they knew the way back. They’d run past countless wraiths and still found no sign of the Dungeon Core. Hot Spot felt like it had become a lot bigger on the inside since they’d last visited, but that was the way Dungeons operated.

He passed by a corridor that, in the back of his mind, felt familiar. He held his arm out and they all stopped. They were definitely much more visible, now.

“Near here is my home,” Rhys whispered, glancing skyward at the broken mountaintop. It looked so strange with the natural light, however obscured it was from the swirling vortex. Or perhaps that was just the shadowy haze making everything feel so different.

“Where next?” Har asked. “Hurry. My flame…”

Rhys stifled a hiss. Right. His flame was going to be visible, too. They were going to have to fight their way out the moment they gathered everything they could.

“Just this way.”

Rhys took a single step forward and abruptly crouched down to a heavy, heavy feeling in the air. He wheezed, like he could no longer breathe, and felt the empty thud of Ani’s heavy body falling against Lygo. The others weren’t doing as well, either. That was the power of Dark Matter’s glare.

Spotted. Rhys’ gaze darted left and right, but all he could see was more haze. His aura sense was completely shot. All was darkness. He had to rely on normal sight again.

He took a burdened step forward and encouraged the others, silently, to do the same. Maybe it was a bluff. He didn’t see any wraiths, and Dark Matter himself was occupied in that strange other plane.

They trudged through the heavy atmosphere again, and by now even Step looked hampered. A few times, Rhys jumped at the sound of gravel moving or a loose stone falling, but with the recent tremors, that wouldn’t be enough to give them away.

There! His home! He recognized the layout of the entrance, even if some of it had been blown away. The motivation lightened his spirit. He pressed onward, faster, and placed his paw on the entrance with a relieved sigh.

Forward again. Through the entrance hall. Past the kitchen, which was dusty and speckled with fallen gravel. Past Demitri and Mispy’s room, completely bare. Down the corner, he saw where Gahi slept, the sand of his artificial pit blown in all directions. But Rhys’ room was untouched and, surprisingly, brighter. A beacon that drew him closer.

There had been a book that Anam gave him a long time ago that he said was very important to keep. Books were always important to keep. But that one in particular, Anam said, would be needed in a time of crisis.

What Rhys didn’t understand was that it was completely blank. Yet when he had explained this to Nevren the day before, Nevren urged him to get what he could. Rhys had a plethora of ‘useless’ items in his room; what if some of it was worth something after all? That was another reason for going here.

His shoulders were light. He knew where it was in this untouched clutter. He pushed aside some rotten Pechas without a second thought, but took a moment to make sure his letters were still all there. They were. And on the shelf—near that empty spot where the Grass Orb had once been designated, where Rhys never found a replacement object—was a book. What little fog that entered his room dissolved completely when it got within a foot or so of its empty pages.

A horrible feeling gripped Rhys’ heart. An omen of death.

An instinct told Rhys to dive, so he did. The shelves exploded and a hole wider than Rhys was left behind, turning countless treasures into rotten ash. Even the rocks had disintegrated into blackened dust.

Anam’s rotten body stood at the entrance to his room. Hollow eye sockets glared at him while deep purple sludge coursed just beneath his slimy skin.

Wordless, he opened his mouth and fired again, but Rhys was faster. With a deft movement, Rhys grabbed the book, then his bag of supplies that he’d left behind, and then an armful of Elder’s letters.

Another blast completely missed him—no, it looked like it had been deflected by something. Rhys glanced at the book.

“Did you even realize,” Dark Matter said, “that you’re alone?”

Rhys froze. The others. Where did—

Narrowly ducking beneath a shadowy blast, Rhys felt the fur on his head evaporate along with a small part of his scalp. Blood trickled down his forehead. He couldn’t feel one of his ears and a dull pain was overtaking where it had once been.

“Did you really think you could distract me?” Dark Matter growled, shooting Rhys again. This time, a hole was left where his bed had been, but Rhys dodged it completely. He weaved past the rotten Goodra, arm grazing his body. It had a cold sting to it and when Rhys brushed away the slime, he felt the pads of his paws shrivel. The part of his arm that had scraped against Dark Matter was completely blackened down to the bone, but he couldn’t stop yet.

In less than a second, he was outside his home. A volley of ice and a bright light greeted him; a swarm of wraiths—some of them were winged—surrounded them. Step was battling alongside ADAM on one side while Willow, Manny, and his Fighting spirits battled on the other. Near the center, Har and the Team Alloy mirrors backed both sides up from a distance, though the atmosphere had a particularly bad effect on them. They looked the most fatigued despite not fighting any of them directly; in fact, Rhys saw dark patches on parts of their bodies…

“You’re all here.” Dark Matter pointed at them. “It’s time you joined the Voidlands.”

Without another warning, Dark Matter fired. This time, Rhys couldn’t dodge.

<><><>​

As it turned out, Lugia was targeting Quartz HQ. Not only that, but she had already blown away the first two floors of the underground labyrinth with her gusts alone. The alarms were deafening and Nevren took some time to Teleport to the control center just to turn them off—as well as, of course, diverting power to the essential areas to maintain the Voidlands’ portal.

Then he waited a moment’s time to make sure that decision was locked in, counting the seconds up to ninety as he rushed through the windy halls. Even on the sixth sublevel, the gusts were enough to topple the last few sets of mutants who hadn’t been sent into the Voidlands to battle.

He needed to find a way to scare Lugia off. Any way at all. They couldn’t have her make it to the portal. It would disrupt everything! Thankfully it was above the power supply, so there was no risk of that being disrupted… but the Beammaker itself was vulnerable if at least the fifth floor was infiltrated.

Using his Revisor would come with a risk. He could have a sudden shockwave from someone who had gone into the Voidlands. He felt, somewhere in his mind, that this strange property of only rewinding Kilo could be useful, but in the heat of the moment, without being able to buy more time, he couldn’t think of it.

Arceus, Lugia is attacking Quartz HQ. If she gets too deep, it will disrupt the portal. Can you spare a Judgement?

I cannot. Rhys is under attack as we speak. I am sending a Judgement there.

Understood. He was on his own for a while. He’d fought Lugia once before, and that was when she was harmless. He’d been imprisoned. Horrible memories. And one of the few times that his Revisor had failed him. He’d lost it in her body, and because he hadn’t been in any danger, its dead man’s switch hadn’t activated, either. It was torture.

Not again. He wasn’t even sure if it was safe anyway, with how corrosive that rain had become, or how cutting the gales were.

But he had a portable Dungeon, and he could make the smallest of portals that led to the Voidlands. It was experimental, but perhaps it could be useful.

The lights flickered. Nevren’s eyes darted around. “Already?” he whispered, Teleporting a few floors up. He regretted it. His skin corroded in seconds; cuts lacerated his entire front. He went blind almost instantly. He only caught a glimpse of the halls to suggest Lugia had already demolished the top three floors.

On reflex, he pressed the Revisor.

<><><>​

Rhys was starting to feel lightheaded, and not just because one of his ears had been blasted off. Ringing filled the one ear that remained as roars from Ax and Solar Beams from Ani exploded past him. They clashed with a blast of darkness from Anam’s body, deflecting downward to turn part of the stone into dust and rubble. Stray beams left craters in the walls and avalanches of that same rotten dust to fill the corners of Hot Spot Dungeon.

Step’s Ice Beams frosted Dark Matter fleetingly, but it was enough time to give Rhys some distance to recover. He jumped back, only to hit a wall from his clumsiness.

“Ngh… I need help,” Rhys drawled, not sure if anyone heard him. A green flash crossed his vision—Lygo trying to distract Dark Matter, but he was struck by a blast instantly and downed. That forced Ani to run toward him to heal. Rhys’ blurry vision only let him see two green lumps flying in different directions, but only one moved, the one Ani was trying to heal.

Was he going to get out of this alive?

That thought crossed Rhys’ mind without realizing it.

He didn’t have the strength to flee. They had to escape.

Step held out her arms and summoned her family; three Kommo-o darted toward Dark Matter, encasing him in a thick wall of ice. It rapidly cracked, thin beams of darkness cutting the ice like paper.

Willow had a similar idea, bringing out more backup, both Manny’s immigrant spirits and her more disruptive Fairy spirits. Mushroom spores clouded the area around Dark Matter, trying to infect him with some kind of illusionary effect, but they weren’t working. A pink mist followed, but a shockwave blew it away with ease; the Joltik shrieked in anger.

ADAM was waiting for something. Rhys felt the heat and saw the light from his charging blast.

Dark Matter’s weaker than usual, Rhys stated to Arceus, strained.

He’s spread thin, Arceus replied. He must be halfway focused on the Voidlands… Part of his spirit is dedicated to that front. Hold out a little longer! We need to force him to spread more!

It’s becoming… difficult. Even as Rhys projected his thoughts, Dark Matter took aim at ADAM, who fired just in time to match the blast. It sent ADAM flying against the wall, cracking part of his body; Ani was too busy tending to Lygo to help.

I’m preparing a Judgement.

The wait was agonizing. Rhys had never felt so useless. All of his aura wasn’t being channeled properly, like Dark Matter had sealed it. He could only lend it elsewhere… Rhys aimed a paw at ADAM, channeling healing energy toward him before diving behind a fallen boulder.

Precious seconds to recover. But would it be worth it? The thought flitted in his mind again, obsessively. He didn’t know if it was Dark Matter’s influence or his own rationality telling him that he was too weak to continue. This was just like when he’d fallen under Lugia’s storm.

Maybe if he spared his power in another way… just in case…

Rhys pooled as much power as he possibly could into his paws, forming a dense, glowing sphere. He glanced behind him. Nobody. He glanced ahead. Nobody. Nobody would see this.

Someone would find his spare power eventually, and only an ally would know what it was, surely.

With that small piece of faith, he pressed his paws on the ground and released the energy deep underground. He sent a few thoughts into it, too, for good measure.

Then, he turned over his bag. Inside-out. Everything tumbled, muted by the chaos of battle. He found random stones and quickly filled his bag again, closing it tight. He glanced left and his eyes met Lygo, who saw the whole thing. Rhys grinned weakly.

There was a strange gravity to the gesture; an overwhelming sense of dread washed over Rhys the moment he stood up.

Just as he did, Dark Matter stared directly at him. “There you are.” He pointed, and Rhys crouched.

A cold beam grazed where his ear had been, spattering blackened blood next to him. His head jerked slightly from the grazing impact. When he leapt out from behind the boulder, there was a brief, horrified look that flashed on Willow’s face when she glanced at him. Rhys didn’t want to know what she saw.

He dashed. Dark Matter wanted him.

Why, he didn’t know.

But if he could get Dark Matter away, that was all that mattered. The others could escape with Valle and the supplies.

Rhys held the bag tighter to his chest and ignored the weird, cold feeling where his ear had been. The throbbing had stopped and it was becoming difficult to think and breathe. A small part of him wanted to collapse and whimper, but his pride and drive told him to do anything but.

“You aren’t going to get away.”

The voice sounded far closer than it should have been. Rhys weakly tried to form an Aura Sphere, but it fizzled. He was completely sapped of his strength; he’d put it all underground.

A stray stone hit his toe. That, and his rapidly declining sense of balance, was enough to knock Rhys onto the ground. Rhys thought Dark Matter’s aura had overtaken him, but that was only his clouding vision. When he turned to look back, Dark Matter was running toward him, powering through three beams of ice…

And then a great pillar of light, followed by several more, struck the vortex in the sky. Dark Matter suddenly keeled over, holding his chest, retching out thick pools of black sludge.

Did that hit? Arceus asked.

Rhys scrambled away and dove into a random house without thinking. His foot hit water that had gone black and he pulled it away. Mercifully, it didn’t rot away his fur. But he recognized the basin as Zena’s pool.

“…The rift.”

His voice was further away. Good. But it was overpoweringly loud, and the only reason he could hear it over the rumbling skies and crackles of elemental attacks and wraith screeching.

“You’ve torn… a hole in it…”

Thunder. A different kind of thunder. It was sustained, long, and made his one good ear ring. He covered it quickly, and felt a strange, uplifting sensation—literally. It felt as if something was trying to pull him toward the sky, yet he did not feel any physical sensation to accompany it.

“What… have you done…”

Rhys dared to peek outside. Dark Matter was advancing quickly; he knew exactly where Rhys had hidden. But he had no energy to go anywhere else. What were the others doing?

Then he saw Step’s family shooting toward the sky—falling upward. The two daughters, Cent and Ana, were clutching onto the arms of Ra, the father Kommo-o. He was the one that had been drawn skyward. And then Alex, now an icy Hydreigon, shouted frantically for them to get back down, clamping his smaller heads onto the tails of the daughters. But all three of them couldn’t stop Ra from drifting away.

Not just him. Manny was flailing, six of his musclebound Fairy-Fighting spirits trying to pull him back. Willow was flying around them, but she was simply too small to do much.

Then Step jumped into the air, propelled on a platform of ice, with a mad, desperate look in her eyes, as she reached toward Ra.

He was flying toward the vortex. It swirled, destabilizing. Red clouds from within that terrible place seeped into Kilo, along with purple dust from a brewing storm. Step passed through the portal just as she lost her grip of Ra, who had rapidly accelerated even out of the grasps of his daughters and Alex. Manny was close to the portal’s edge next. He was about to suffer the same fate.

And then it all stopped.

Rhys was frozen. Everything was frozen. Step was falling through the portal with her daughters, who now appeared to manifest more solid-looking forms before falling out of view. But everything else had stopped.

And then Manny started falling toward the ground, rapidly. Their movements were quick and even more frantic than before, but in a bizarre, unnatural order. Manny looked at something startling happening to the left, but then turned away just as it ended. Explosions were falling inward, leaving behind perfectly intact walls. And then Rhys realized his own body was moving without his orders. Backwards. His gasps were in reverse, breathing out and then in. He knelt down and then went flat on the ground. The injuries from his fall stitched themselves together, and then he rapidly scrambled back, far too quick with his weakened state. Perhaps ten seconds had passed, and then everything was back to normal.

Except for a massive, new explosion nearby that blew apart a whole section of the cave. This shockwave was louder than anything, and it was filled with a frigid air that he knew was Step.

Step… And her spirits. They had fallen through the portal, yet—they weren’t there anymore. The explosion blew away so much of the cavern that he could no longer afford to hide in Zena’s home, and it looked like most of the front of Rhys’ abode had also been collapsed.

Did that hit? Arceus asked.

Rhys fell over, gasping, mind completely muddled. What? Yes, of course you hit, did you hit again?

I only hit once recently. I’ll try to charge another, but Nevren is in trouble with Lugia.

Did you not see what happened? Rhys said immediately.

What?

Step fell into the Voidlands. And—

Rhys glanced at Willow. “Willow! Withdraw Manny immediately!”

“What?!” Willow dodged a blast of darkness.

“Do as I say!”

Willow usually would have objected, but the urgency of his voice and the grimness of his appearance must have been enough for her to obey. Manny disappeared into Willow as a blue wisp, but the rest of his spirits remained to fight.

Rhys didn’t know what happened. But it had given him a second chance. It felt like… time, time itself had gone backwards. Why? When did that happen, why did he notice it just then? And why did some primal sense of anger well up in him at the thought of time being tampered with? And it still felt like something in the Voidlands was trying to pull his spirit toward it.

He had no hope of escape. The portal was going to consume all of Hot Spot.

But he knew he could save the others.