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Finale ~ Prelude – Zero
A girl stood in front of a large tree with a single flat stone at its base. Nervously, she sat down and read the very top of the thick stack of papers: Overseer Godhood Certification – Intermediate.
All she had to do was take this test, pass, and she and her partner could finally make a world. Their dream.
“Well,” she whispered. “See you in two months.”
A pencil manifested from nothing. She turned the page.
<><><>
“This can’t be happening.” Eon stared at the screen, fully understanding everything, yet not understanding at all why it took place. “They… they had him, it was all—”
“Usurpers aren’t finished until they are eradicated completely,” Miraidon said gravely. Koraidon and Ho-Oh had left to mobilize some other force. “I think I understand what happened. When the original Usurper had attacked your god—Arceus—it must have predicted that Arceus would escape the same way the other god, Mew, had. I didn’t think that primordial force would have any sense of planning, but… maybe it did.”
Alarms blared. Miraidon pressed several buttons and checked screens. Eon felt an oppressive atmosphere in the air, even at this remote observatory.
He felt like he was being watched.
“But it moved that dark essence from the sea into the new god… And then, manipulated that new god into following Owen somewhere isolated. In that environment, it bought time, and then… Ugh!” She slammed her paw on one of the machines. “We waited too long. We should have annihilated things immediately! This has gotten far out of hand!”
“Wh-what now?”
“We’ve already gotten some enforcers on the edge of this world. The gods at least granted us this failsafe. We’re going to annihilate everything.”
“N-no, you—”
“Your right to live has ended. I’m sorry,” Miraidon said to Eon with no room for negotiation.
“Please, I—”
“It’s out of my hands.” Miraidon pushed herself away from the cosmic desk, exhaling firmly. “I’m sorry. It’s done. My role is over.”
“Then… at least send me back,” Eon said. “I… won’t be the sole survivor. I want to be with them.”
“…A meaningless sentiment,” Miraidon said. “You’ll all wind up in the same place anyway. Don’t you want to hang out here, guide them once they’re processed?”
“…No. I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m the last person to deserve that kind of… survival. Please. Just… just send me back.” Eon winced, staring down. “You obviously can.”
Miraidon gave Eon a serious look. Belittling, even. Eon was sure she thought he was a fool. But he held his ground. He refused to exempt himself from his home’s fate. Not when everyone else was still there.
“Fine.” Miraidon sighed. “It’s the Overseer way to respect a native’s wishes…”
She pressed a few more buttons and then said, “Go into that chamber. I can reverse it.”
Jirachi nervously floated toward the strange, cosmic sphere. A hole widened for him to fly through, and it closed moments after.
“So I just… stand here?” he asked.
“Yes. One moment.” Miraidon glanced at a screen. “…Hm?”
“What?”
“There’s still…”
The chamber rumbled. The outer walls warped, and small white cracks formed in the cosmic walls.
“Uhh, that’s bad, right?” Jirachi asked.
But just as the white light of the device enveloped Jirachi, he saw something break through the walls of the Overseers’ station, pulling Miraidon outside by force.
Narrowly, Jirachi escaped.
<><><>
Golden motes of light outnumbered the stars in the night sky.
Jerry stood, completely dumbfounded, with Owen dying at his feet. One by one, strands of golden filaments—were those the Hands?—flew away from Owen’s body, even as he stubbornly clung to one with an ever-weakening grip.
At the center of town, and Jerry had to crane his neck to see the top, was a spire of stone with a serpent of black and white fire coiled at its apex. That wasn’t a Pokémon anymore, was it?
All of the motes of light were siphoning toward that serpent, like bubbles atop a whirlpool. It wouldn’t be long until every soul in Kilo was within it.
And then what?
Jerry couldn’t deal with this. This was Owen’s deal, this was the gods’ deal, why was he the—
The scarf.
Jerry cursed, squeezing at the fabric, then at Owen, still clutching onto his spirit as it drained from his body.
“Don’t die on me yet, you overgrown scalebag,” Jerry hissed, pulling the scarf off his neck. He shoved it onto Owen’s arm, quickly tying it around. “I guess I’m returning the favor!”
Jerry felt… vulnerable again. The air’s harsh, oppressive atmosphere sank into him, even with the strange song completed. He wasn’t melting, at least… Maybe it was just paranoia.
Owen’s golden filament of light—the last one on him, the one that had been clutched in his hand—stabilized. Those hollow eyes glimmered with life again.
Suddenly, the Charizard gasped in a deep breath as if reclaiming his spirit.
“Get up, get up!” Jerry hissed.
“Y-you’re alive,” Owen whispered. “…I’m alive, what—”
“Do not take that scarf off,” Jerry commanded. “It… you made it to counter Ghrelle’s song. It saved me. So now, I’m—”
“Go and hide,” Owen urged.
“Oh, sure, I’ll find a spot,” Jerry hissed. But he stretched his wings for a takeoff anyway. “What’re you gonna do?”
Owen smiled faintly. He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
“…Better make it work,” Jerry said. “I’ll… find something to do.”
And as Owen turned to face the serpent in the sky, summoning his javelin-whip of light, the Aerodactyl found a building to hide within. Quietly, he tried to think of what, if anything, he could do left…
But for now, he had to see what Kilo’s last hope had in store.
<><><>
The dim glow of nighttime mushrooms colored the rocky walls of the cave. Mixing with this light were flickering embers of orange and yellow. Mu lay belly-down in the middle of these flames, enjoying the warmth; they licked at her scales and washed over her back. The flame at the end of her tail got hotter, brimming with energy. She rolled over to sear her back next.
Wait. What happened? Wasn’t she—
“No resting on the fire, Mu.”
“Wh—huh? I wasn’t!” She rolled away and quickly hid beneath her bed of leaves. Some of them turned black from the fire, but they didn’t burn.
“Ngh.” She felt heavy. Everything felt bruised. Something was wrong.
A blue-haired Gardevoir peeked into the room, her white dress aglow from the mushrooms and the fire. She sighed, smiling. “You’re lucky we got you that special Rawst bed, or we’d need to replace it every night!” She laughed, but then walked over, patting her on the head.
“Yeah…”
Another voice whispered from the other room. “Amia, is she okay?”
Mu saw the burning shoulders of her Hydreigon father. A vague image flashed in her mind of that very same Hydreigon hunting her down—no. No, not the same. His eyes were… kinder.
No. No, this was all wrong. This was all wrong!
“It’s very late, Mu. Get some rest.” Amia reached for her—
“No!” Mu spat a flame at the Gardevoir’s face.
“Ah! Mu!” Amia waggled a finger sternly at her.
“No, this is wrong!” Mu cried. She scrambled out of her bed, bolting past Amia and under her floating father. Father, it wasn’t her father, right? No, she’d lived her whole life here, it—no. No, what was wrong? What was wrong?
What do you think you’re doing?
Mu lost her breath and her ability to run shortly after. She knelt as the world around her curled into a tight, dark ball.
Do not defy your new world.
The tight ball got more and more oppressive. She couldn’t breathe.
Do not deny reality.
She balled up her fist and heard Amia say something. It was all muddled. Her body acted without her will: “Okay, Mom.”
Her mind felt muddled again. In the corner of her eye, she saw a dim, black flame. Then her consciousness went dark.