Finale ~ Part 4 – Thousand
Arceus held Star’s tattered soul in his Hands. She twitched and whimpered, crying little apologies a thousand times.
She didn’t know what to say to him. His warnings, from ages ago to now, had all come to pass. Now she could barely move, could barely look at him, after what had happened.
It came so easily. Happened so fast. First, she was being rescued by so many people, so many heroes. And then the sky had torn open, and Arceus and his divine might had destroyed it all utterly.
She had barely saved the souls of those who had rescued her. But everyone else on the island had been annihilated. The kind of destruction that would banish them from their home reality, never to return. Irreversible and absolute.
“Why?” Star whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Arceus said.
It was a better response than last time. At first, he’d said ‘because they hurt you.’ For someone who had so stubbornly cast aside his old life as a trainer’s Pokémon, Arceus was still terribly loyal to her. Loyal to the point of destruction.
“They didn’t deserve that,” Star said.
Floating around them, pained and confused, deprived of their senses, was a sea of lost souls. Their ethereal presence clung to their bodies for some semblance of being, but that was the best they could hope for.
“We… we turn them in,” Star said. “The Overseers… will…”
This kind of slip-up was not the standard of proper gods. The Overseers would surely tell them to leave this world behind. They would put a proper god in its place.
“We failed,” Star whispered.
Arceus winced.
She stared at the sea of souls. Arceus, meanwhile, took in a slow breath. From a faraway place, appearing seemingly in the aether, was a swarm of Unown. Star watched them, mesmerized, until she realized what it meant.
“Arceus?”
“Perhaps… perhaps not yet.”
<><><>
Anam felt like he’d awoken from a long, long dream. His body was heavy, with slime coating it thickly, as if he’d been resting away from the water for days. When he tried to lift his arm, he took a layer of grass with it, ripping it from the dirt.
The sun beamed into his eyes. He squinted and groaned, ripping his other arm from the grass, then his back. He wanted to clean himself, to get it off, but something else caught his attention.
While he was on the grass, up ahead was the Endless Expanse. That great salt flat perfectly reflecting the sky. Nobody else was around save for one figure.
A Charizard with a black flame. His wings were folded and his back faced Anam. But he knew the subtleties of his body anywhere by now.
“Diyem!”
The Goodra laughed, running into the water, not caring about the sting of the salt against his wounds. He’d only just realized he was still covered in them. He didn’t know where they’d come from.
He splashed in the water, tripping a few times. The grass fell from his body in layers, cleaning him, yet also doubling, tripling that salty sting. He powered through it, grunting, stomping through the water.
“Diyem!” he called again.
This time, he got a response. The Charizard’s shoulders slumped, and he exhaled.
“Anam,” he greeted.
He sounded different. Anam had never heard him like this before.
“Diyem?” he asked.
He turned around. His eyes, it was his eyes, too. They were… peaceful. And he was smiling. Two things that never happened.
Yet, in his heart of hearts, Anam knew it was Diyem.
Finally, Anam was close enough that he stopped, hesitated, and then lunged for Diyem in a reckless hug.
He collided, feeling his cold, shadowy body and rough scales. He heard the sizzle of positivity burning him.
“Oh—”
Anam quickly backed away. Diyem chuckled to himself, which transitioned into a raspy cough, producing huge gouts of ethereal smoke.
“I’m sorry!”
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Diyem coughed a few more times, took a shuddering breath, held it, and then exhaled. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Huh?”
“Anam…” Diyem took one more breath and seemed to return to normal after that. He spread his arms. “Do you see this place?”
“Um…”
His head swiveled. It seemed normal, save for… the lack of people. But at the Endless Expanse, that wasn’t too surprising. He looked at the ground again, then the perfectly blue, unblemished sky.
“No clouds?” Anam asked.
“Look more closely. What’s missing?”
Anam turned around. He flinched—it was gone. That grassy field was gone.
Diyem groaned. “The sun, Anam.”
“But but but the grass went away, too!” Anam cried.
“That… Right. I suppose that’s also true.”
The sky was perfectly blue and unblemished, yes, but when Anam took a second look, he realized the sun, that source of light just seconds ago, was missing.
“I don’t get it. Where’d it go?”
“This is just a dream, Anam. A vision. Your wounds… are wounds to your spirit.”
Anam looked at his arms and belly. The cuts were… healing.
“But it looks like some force is helping us recover. Or… helping
you recover.”
Diyem’s body wasn’t hurt, but… now that Anam looked, now that he
squinted, he could barely see the reflection of the sky through him.
“Diyem?” Anam whispered.
The Shadow Charizard exhaled again and turned around. “They killed me, Anam,” he said. “Or… no. They didn’t kill me. Owen entrusted the last of his power, that final Hand of Creation, to the part of my psyche that had not yet been taken over. To ‘me,’ the one you call ‘Diyem.’ That I’m here at all is thanks to you, Anam.”
When Anam thought back, he could remember seeing through Diyem’s eyes in a strange, twisted version of Kilo Village that the Usurper had conjured. He remembered begging Diyem to do something else, to save the world. He remembered the shadowy strings that drove him to do otherwise. And… everyone else banding together to break that world and cut Diyem’s strings.
“I remember,” Anam said, recognition flooding into him. “But… you won! You did the final blow! So you—”
“I struck my own heart, Anam. My core.” Diyem turned to face Anam again. He was even more transparent. “I… I wanted to see you one last time, Anam.”
“One last…”
“And I need to give you a warning.”
“What? Wait, this—this is too fast! I don’t understand! You won!”
“This is how it should have gone, Anam… except for one flaw. One… small, terrible flaw.”
Anam wanted to cry. He knew what Diyem was saying. He was going to die, and everyone else would get to live without him. Those horrible things the core said to Diyem would come true. He’d be deemed a monster. Diyem wouldn’t get the salvation he deserved, not even his name.
“I will return,” Diyem said. “I wasn’t killed in the right way. I don’t know if there
is a right way… but the negativity I held, the suffering and pain in that Hand, the fabric of reality… when it struck the core, when it destroyed me, I was not obliterated. I was dispersed. And I will gather again in the Tree of Life.
“I don’t know if it will be in a year, or ten, or ten thousand, Anam. But I can feel it happening, even now, ever so slowly. And I don’t think ‘Diyem’ is going to be the one in control.”
As Diyem spoke, Anam’s vision blurred with tears. He didn’t know what to say this time. It was said with such finality, in this strange place, with such confidence…
But what hurt most of all was how Diyem smiled peacefully through it all.
“You can’t smile,” Anam sobbed. “That’s not right. You never smile.”
“I’m already dying,” Diyem answered with a laugh, which once again became a rasping cough. “What harm is a smile?”
“I don’t get it! I-if… if you’re going to disappear, if you’re becoming evil again, that means—”
“There’s still hope.”
Anam gasped. Was this really Diyem? No, it definitely was. Yet… for him to say that. For
Diyem to say that, it had to be true.
“The world will heal. The world will forget. But maybe… the world will become a better place on its own. And maybe, whoever confronts me next time, they will find the answer. The way to truly defeat me.
“You did win, Anam. But good never wins forever, and evil never does, either. It is always a struggle. But you, and everyone alive today, you all won that battle. And… for letting me enjoy that victory, that warmth, for seeing your smiling faces, seeing you make the world so beautiful for all those centuries, Anam…”
Diyem never cried, not like this. Not with such a vulnerable smile. The Charizard draped his arms and wings over Anam, who stood there, stunned.
“I can’t express how I feel,” he whispered. “I truly can’t, Anam.”
“Why can’t you…”
“Don’t focus on all the bad that remains. Please, Anam. For me.”
Anam sniffled as a reply.
“Realize how much you’d dispelled. How much more you can do to help,” Diyem went on. “I… I will watch. I will be with you, I’m sure. We’d been together for so long that I’m sure, in some small way, we’ll…”
The sizzling returned, and it was much louder. Diyem pulled away; even like this, he couldn’t take that kind of pain for long.
Yet, he only smiled again, staring at Anam. His eyes were drinking every second he had to simply be there. Anam couldn’t help but do the same.
And finally, Anam found it in him to smile back.
“Did I do well enough?” Anam asked. “Did I make the world better for you?”
Diyem sighed and, as if relenting, nodded. “Not just for me, Anam. It was never just for me.”
“I guess not.” Anam reached for Diyem again, but thought twice about it. Instead, he clasped his own hands together and held them to his chest. The still waters rippled, each little wave larger than the last. The world was shifting. The dream, fading.
“Then for as long as I can, I’ll keep doing it,” Anam resolved. “I’ll make this world ready for your return. Okay?”
Waves became white water. Droplets rose from the ground and formed a fine, obscuring mist. Anam couldn’t see more than ten feet out.
“A good answer,” Diyem said. “One I’d expect from you, Anam.”
Diyem reached for Anam, placing a hand over Anam’s clasped ones. Then, he brought a claw to Anam’s chest. A cold, faint, dull pain spread into his heart, but that was all. Diyem pulled away.
“Do not wait for me, Anam,” Diyem said gently. “Please. Live your life. And when, one day, you meet your end, find a beginning without me. Do not… let my weight keep you chained. Find your path. You and I have already done so much.”
Anam wanted to object. Yet, some tiny, tiny part of him understood what Diyem meant.
So, he hoped Diyem understood when he replied, “But I’ll check now and then anyway. And… a-and when this is all over, when you’re beaten for real… f-find me! Okay?! You better!”
Diyem laughed
loudly, a single defiant roar of a laugh. He managed to suppress his cough. “You’ve grown a spine!” he declared. “Good. You can keep it.”
His wings folded down. The mist made it hard to see him. Anam couldn’t even see his own hands anymore.
It was getting hard to think.
“Then it’s a deal,” Diyem acquiesced. “One day, I will wake up. Alexander’s will is certainly going to be the dominating force. One of feral destruction, one that only wants oblivion of all. But, in that future, if I am defeated… if I am truly defeated, for good, and that answer to my demise is found… I am sure I will come to my senses.”
Anam was floating. Diyem’s voice felt so distant, yet so clear.
And if I do wake up from that nightmare, Anam, I will remember to say…
The white mist became white light. All other senses dissolved. Anam couldn’t feel his body. The dream slid into its warm end.
Thank you.
<><><>
The death of a god was surprisingly peaceful.
For quite a while, Owen only drifted in nothingness. It felt like forever, but realistically, he suspected it had only been a minute or so from his perspective.
He took a breath. To his surprise, it worked, or at least, some hollow replica of it worked. He opened his eyes, though that made no difference. He shook his tail. It worked, though he was still weightless. Every movement felt slow, but not labored or tired. It was just… off. Different.
But despite that, he still felt warm. And for a while, he merely closed his eyes and enjoyed that warmth in the void, reflecting on all that had happened. He’d won. That, he knew for sure.
Everyone else was safe.
Movement became easier. He started with his fingers, then his tail and toes. He tried to stand, but that wasn't meaningful here. He beat his wings. That didn’t propel him anywhere. Could he even tell?
But then, he heard faint crying and murmurs. From his current perspective, it was ‘below’ him. With a thought, he descended. There, Star was burying her face into Barky’s back, the two of them looking fine yet faded.
“You’re alive,” Owen said. “…I think.”
Both, startled, gasped. Their eyes met the Charizard’s.
“Owen?!”
“Hey.” Owen tittered, waving at them. “I don’t know how this all works, you know, out in this void, but at least I can see you two…”
“B-but but you’re here, that means…” Star sniffed, rising off Barky’s back. “It means you lost. Even after everything…
everything we tried—”
“No, no, I won!” Owen held his hands up placatingly. “I saw it as I was fading away. It’s over! We beat Alexander, and the crazy thing he became afterward, or something, it’s
all over!”
“What? But then, why are you here?”
“It was Diyem,” Owen said. “He was resisting Alexander’s takeover. I gave him the final Hand I had… and he destroyed his own core with it.”
At that, Barky was taken aback. “By his own hand,” he whispered.
“Diyem…” Star winced. “Then where’s
he in all this? Or, well, what happened?”
Owen looked around. It was hard to tell where
anything was. “I don’t know that part. I faded away just as he ripped apart. I think now, Nate’s probably putting everything back together. I think that was my Plan D… or E. Either way, it’s fine. I know it.”
Owen beamed at them. They did not return the expression.
“That’s good, you know,” Owen reminded them.
Star broke down again, burying her face into Barky’s back.
Owen winced. He could only guess why she was like that, but instead looked at Barky for the answer.
“We’re failures, Owen,” Barky finally answered. “I’m happy you were able to save our world. But… we are lost souls now. This is it.” Barky stared at the void, tilting his head upward. “We have no idea which way is ‘closer’ to our world, and which way will send us beyond. If we stay here… we will surely fade all the same. We’re simply too far from Kilo. From the rest of our reality.”
“W-well, we can find our way back!” Owen said.
“Oh,
sure,” Star said, slamming her fist into Barky. It had no impact. “Pick a direction! Only three-sixty degrees around, and three-sixty degrees up or down! How are our odds?!”
“We don’t even know if our problem is directional,” Barky murmured. “This could be a true void. One where we drift until we’re found…”
The Charizard winced again. Right, when she phrased it like that, it
was hard to put it all to chance. Maybe that was why they’d been so paralyzed to go anywhere at all.
“It will be a Lockout,” Barky said. “Maybe they’ll forget about us and assume they saved the world on their own. We don’t know what a Lockout truly does in Kilo, do we? It never happened. We’d never implemented a
way for that to happen in this world. What happens if it somehow
does would be… undefined behavior. And usually, when that happens, a universe will just try to make it as if that never happened. As if we never existed. Or they’ll assume we all went missing, like what happened to Quartz in the human world.”
“Maybe it’s better that way,” Star sniffled. “We’ll go away. They’ll forget about us until maybe they die, and they wonder, and maybe they’ll know about us
after they leave… But you know h-how that is. Enough time passes, and… we won’t be the same. They won’t be the same. It won’t matter…”
“Guys…” Owen turned his head away.
“Don’t you ‘guys’ me,” Star said. “When I was alone out here, I thought maybe I deserved it. When Barky showed up next, I
knew I deserved it. Alexander’s rise to power… Eon and I fighting Barky, all because we
forgot the original conflict… Us getting Necrozma and Hecto in this mess…
“We never should have become gods.”
Owen flinched. “Never…
become gods?” he asked.
Barky sighed sadly. “…The life cycle of a soul is a very… dynamic thing,” he said. “You’re still young, Owen. You are still in your infancy. Still your first life, even if it’s a lot longer than average. But after we died, a long, long time ago… we came to terms with our first lives. Our first, mortal lives, just like you.
“To be honest, it’s blurry. It’s been too long. And I don’t think the body I have now, in this world, can remember all that happened so long ago. Yes, even as a god.”
“You… used to be mortal?” Owen asked.
“Nearly everyone has,” Barky said. “It’s the life cycle. You’re born, created, you ‘start,’ and then you learn. You die. And maybe you choose to live again, or explore other worlds meant for the dead, in the Overworld. Or…”
Star sniffled. She was calmer. “Or you try to make a world yourself. S-something that we studied for. We tried to be responsible. We tried to do it right. Even worked off a tried-and-true template.”
“But we were mortal once. And we can’t shed the flaws that come with it.” Barky looked at Owen with more humility and apology in his eyes than he’d ever seen before. “I only wish I’d remembered, or
realized, all of this before. But upon becoming this world’s god, I’d… I’d deluded myself into thinking that’s how I’d always been.”
“It’s an okay practice,” Star murmured. “Thinking you’re an immortal god and not some… some
poser helps you act the part better. Helps you run a world better. Me, all my mortal flaws that I kept… ugh, God, that was what started all of this in the first place!”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” Owen said. “Only that… it makes sense.”
A flicker of Barky’s pride returned. He gave Owen an incredulous, insulted stare, but then quickly hid it by looking away. Star didn’t react, at least not openly. But Owen Perceived her tension.
“A lot of people on Kilo idolized you two,” Owen said. “I mean, I didn’t really, you know, believe in you for a while, when I lost my memories. But I know a lot of them turned your ideals into those books. Mew, for freedom and self-determination. Arceus, for duty and collective well-being. But… those really were just personalities you had as mortals, right? Or some echo of it. You were still… flawed people, just like the people you created.”
Owen tentatively drifted closer. Neither backed away. He gently placed a hand on Star’s back, and then, after checking if it was okay, sat atop Barky, and set Star on his lap.
“And I think about all the people who wanted to rule Kilo instead of you. Alexander, who wanted power for power’s sake. Turn us into puppets to be his soldiers. Nevren, who wanted control, and would’ve tried to take away all our wills to do it, if he wanted. Eon, who… well, I don’t think he had a vision at all. He just wanted change, and… and wanted me back.
“Star, you just wanted to fix things. Maybe it was for your own pride, or your guilt, but you
had guilt. Barky, you were selfish, you had
such an ego that you could
not be wrong, could
not be defied, but… I don’t remember you ever overwriting anyone’s will. Sure, you had Divine Promises. You had the Guardians. But… neither of you forced your wills onto people in the way Alexander or Nevren might have.”
Star sniffed. “Except when I took over your Core,” she admitted.
“Er… right, well… that was… I think that was intended to be temporary, right?”
“Yeah.” Star nodded. “It was. But I still don’t like that I did it. I… I really put everything backward when I tried, didn’t I?”
“And,” Barky grumbled, “when I tried to take your powers by force when I saw hints of you distrusting me again. In a dream, without giving you all the information.”
Owen needed a moment to recall that time. It felt like nearly a decade ago, but had it only been last summer? Barely a year…
Well, longer, thanks to his extra time in the human world.
“And also the whole thing with Eon trying to make you a weapon, and I greenlit it,” Star added, wiping her eyes. “That was kinda messed up.”
“Okay, okay.” Owen held up his hands. “I get your point. You all messed up. Like I did. What I’m trying to say is… you
recognize that. And now that you don’t have divine power anymore, why not… go back and own up to it?”
He saw the reluctance in their eyes.
“Or are you just gonna run away while we move on?” he said. “Trying to… get away with it, thinking we’ll forget about you?”
Another wince.
“Do you think that’ll work out for you?” Owen asked. “Even if
we forget, you won’t. And those memories will be forever.” He spoke more firmly this time, finding his momentum. “And I think you know by now that the biggest punishment you can put on a soul is
regret. You can’t go back and try again. You can only go forward.”
“Regret leaving, huh?” Star murmured. “What do you think?” she looked up at Barky. Rather than reluctance, she now seemed conflicted.
“I… don’t know,” Barky said. “I don’t know where I’d belong in my own world. How am I supposed to move forward with that?”
“Yet, you aren’t trying to leave,” Owen said.
Barky’s gaze trailed down.
“You can try again. Less power, less divinity. Maybe… trust mortals more. I don’t know what the world will do about you if you return, but we can take it from there, right?”
Barky scoffed. “A vague assurance. But that’s always how you operated when you had no information. Not very becoming of a tactician.”
“When you don’t have information, you can only hope, and prepare,” Owen countered. “Star?”
The Mew looked down as well, playing with Barky’s fur.
“How do we even go back?” she finally asked. “This is nice and all, but we’re floating in a void, Owen. With no way to tell which way to go.” She curled until her knees were against her chest. Her long, long tail curled around her body three times over. “Even if I wanted to go back, how would we? Just pick a direction and go? You really think that’s enough?”
It was better than nothing, but Owen agreed. He’d done everything before with at least some plan, some contingency. To put it all on blind hope now wasn’t right.
Tap, tap, tap. Owen felt something on his chest when he leaned back. Yet, when he felt for it, nothing was there.
Remember, a voice whispered like a warm campfire,
follow me.
Owen held his chest and closed his eyes. It was a void, so it was hard to tell, but his Perceive still worked at the edge of existence.
That meant his other powers might, too.
Found you, Owen called back.
“I know the way,” Owen said, holding something invisible below his neck.
“Huh?”
“Follow me, okay?” Owen asked.
Star frowned. Barky straightened his stance.
“I trust you,” he said. “Star?”
“Oh, uh—sure. Okay.”
It was faint, ever so faint, but in the empty void, it was like a candle in the dark.
Owen tilted upward about halfway from his original position, and then turned left a third-rotation’s worth. He moved forward, following the trail…
They hadn’t realized it until then, but it had been getting ever slowly colder. As they followed Owen through the void, minute by minute, hour by hour, that cold was slowly replaced by the faint warmth of a rising sun.
<><><>
A gentle breeze flowed through Sera’s mane as she stood atop Hot Spot’s hills.
The horizon was so much further, now. She could see the whole of Kilo Mountain stretching to the left and right, as well as the spire that had been formed from Necrozma’s assistance during the great time barrier.
Winter was melting completely into spring. Over about a moon, confusion and relief had given way to clarity and energy.
The first thing many people did was cry, sigh, and marvel at the miracle they’d seen. It was a nightmare that got hazy near the end, but those who had the dream remembered the same vivid details. They remembered fighting and falling into a great darkness, and they remembered rifts in a strange facsimile of their home ripping open, and a strange Charizard fighting on the other side.
The past half-moon led to rescue squads forming up to trek into all parts of Kilo to find everyone who had been lost and scattered. Kilo Village itself only seemed to have people who lived there. Everyone else who had been rescued from other parts of Kilo were not in the village.
But as the Hearts had fanned out, a pattern had emerged. Everyone had woken up where they lived the most.
“Oi!”
A speedy Flygon spiraled out from Hot Spot and landed next to Sera, kicking stray blades of grass into her ghostly mane.
“Ugh, whaaat?” she complained.
“Yer nappin’ too long! We gotta go on another scoutin’ trip!”
Sera groaned and sat up, running her claws through her mane to pick out a few stray twigs. She blinked and pulled out, next, a whole Fletchling, who chirped angrily at being disturbed.
“
Go away,” she said gently in feral.
The Fletchling flew away once Sera let go.
“How long were you
asleep?” Gahi asked, incredulous.
“I dunno, just a nap. Feral Pokémon like snuggling up to me, I guess.”
She hopped up and stretched, losing her balance. She fell into Gahi’s arms, who pushed her back to her feet.
“Yeah, well,” Gahi said, “nap time’s over, yeah? Time fer another exploration. Got an assignment fer us at the Hearts. The others’re already headin’ over.”
He turned around and bent down. Sera hopped onto Gahi’s back with practiced ease.
Soon, Gahi took off with Sera, picking up a few others along the way. They spotted Mu gathering fruits with Amia and got them both. Shortly after, they spotted Demitri and Mispy on their way to the restored Hearts HQ.
They landed in town.
The central spire still obscured most of the main teleportation platform, not that it was functional anymore. Buildings had been partially rebuilt, and some of their walls had warped in strange ways. Most of the residents resigned themselves to accepting this rather than unbend and unwarp them. The ground had cracks that weren’t there before. Tremors happened more frequently.
It didn’t take long for Palkia and other scientists to determine that Kilo itself was falling apart—on a geological level, and rapidly. They had “only” a few decades to enjoy it as a singular landmass. In time, new volcanoes would sprout from different parts of the island, eventually forming into an ever-disparate archipelago in the vast ocean.
And
vast was an understatement. Palkia assumed the world was still a sphere—and, reasonably, that seemed to be the case—and calculated its size from its new, much greater horizon line at sea level. And according to that, the planet they had awoken to had ballooned to a size not even Gahi could fly across in a day.
Finally, they landed at the top of the stairs at Heart HQ. Within, the walls lost much of their detail, becoming only a solid lavender interior with strips of red. All the papers and documentation they used to have were gone, replaced instead with blank papers to be filled once more.
Some already were. The map of Kilo had been preserved in Anam’s office. There, the Goodra sat in the back of his room in his little indoor lake. In the middle of his chest was a great, black heart-shaped mark that felt cold to even look at. Despite this, though, the Goodra smiled often.
“Sera!” Anam spread his arms for a distanced hug.
Sera humored him and returned the gesture.
“And Anam and Gahi! Thanks for coming!”
“Yeah, that’s everyone,” Gahi said.
A few familiar faces had returned from their recent expeditions into Kilo. Zena had arrived, along with Hakk, Mew Eon, and Mhynt, and the rest of Team Alloy. Save, of course, for Owen, who was still missing along with Star and Barky.
Also in the room was Jerry, sitting against the wall and looking over some notes. With one set of wing claws, he scribbled something down and passed it to another Pokémon, who took it out of the office to send somewhere else in the facility.
“This is… a peculiar set of people,” Sera said with a frown, glancing behind her to nod at Amia. “Lots of people who were close to…”
“Does that mean we found him?” Amia asked nervously.
Zena tensed, but then took a breath. “Anam says it’s only a familiar energy signature. Not any guarantees,” she said. “But it also happens to be along the way to another village we’ve yet to return to, so it’s a good spot to go regardless. He’s sending us out to investigate. If anybody can spot him, we can.”
Zena’s feather-tail fanned out and compressed. Even though she’d lost her Guardian powers, she kept faint echoes of her aura sense, and much of her old strength. That was the case for all Guardians, Sera included. They didn’t know where the power went, only that
nobody seemed to have it anymore.
“Mhm. So, do you guys want to go?” Anam asked. “It won’t be long. And, Zena, you…”
Zena shook her head. “I’m really fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll go, but I won’t get my hopes up.”
Mhynt eyed her skeptically. “I have to ask,” the Treecko said. “I don’t mean to do it so publicly, but… how do you… stay so calm about losing Owen? If we were still that close, I’d… be devastated. In some ways, maybe I still am…”
But the Milotic didn’t look offended. “Owen was happy as he faded away,” she said. “The Overseers can’t find him. It means he must still be
somewhere, perhaps sealed away, perhaps… lost. But he did what he wanted to, and I know he doesn’t regret it. Even if I won’t see him again… even if we change so much by the time we do, that we’d be different people… I’ll be happy for him.
“Besides, he’d be very upset if I wallowed in loneliness again the moment he disappeared.” Zena giggled. “Maybe he can hear me right now. Wouldn’t that be cruel, suffering alone, and he can only watch?”
“Looks like his overthinking rubbed off on you,” Hakk said. “Well, whatever. Good for you, I guess.”
Mhynt absently leaned against Hakk, looking thoughtful. “Sorry for asking. I was just… worried you were bottling something up.”
Anam hummed, hand to the black heart on his chest. “It’s okay, Mhynt.”
“We’ll find him,” Mispy said. Then, nudging Demitri, she whispered something.
“Oh, that’s true,” Demitri said. “You know, he can’t be
nowhere, right? And if the Overseers have a good look at what’s beyond here, then they’re either in that human world, or they’re just waiting for us to find them again. That’s the running theory, right?”
“Been hearing that one for a while from
everyone,” Jerry grumbled. “Just scour the land! We’ll find ‘em eventually. And hopefully they aren’t on the
rest of the planet that suddenly popped up, either.”
“Hey, how
did that happen?” Sera asked. “You were the only one who witnessed it. You still won’t talk about it?”
“It’s like I said!” Jerry stopped writing and glared at her. “I was flying around, my wings were getting tired, and the whole sky was lit up with gold. Spirits just flying down and around aimlessly. Then the giant Tree started glowing, weird stuff happened, and I found a patch of land that
wasn’t on fire. D’you have any idea how exhausted I was after all that ‘the floor is lava’ flying during Owen’s fight?”
“And then you fell asleep… and woke up with a pile of berries in front of you,” Mhynt summarized. “A shame Reshiram’s truth sense isn’t as strong anymore, or I’d see if that’s really what happened.”
“Oh, so now I’m a liar!” Jerry raised his wings in the air.
“Not a
liar. It’s just very
fantastical without understanding how you survived.” She smirked. “I guess I’m jealous. Out of everyone in the whole world, you were the only person to never die.”
Jerry huffed. “Came close a few times… Was just a
head. Maybe I deserve life.”
“Who knows?” Mhynt glanced at Zena. “Maybe Owen loved Jerry more than anyone else.”
“Ohh no, do
not sic her on me,” Jerry said, glancing uneasily at Zena.
“Oh boy.” Mu sighed. “I’m gonna go ahead before this gets ugly.” She could still warp around Kilo—though, it seemed she couldn’t go beyond it. She vanished moments later, likely to scout the area on her own.
Zena curled her ribbons into cylinders. “Then I guess I’ll have to compete with you upon his return,” she said. “It’s only fair, isn’t it? You took advantage of your element against Owen, so I should do the same against you.”
“Oh, come on! That was like, a whole world ago!” Jerry protested.
Mispy laughed, followed by a few others, as they planned for another expedition. Spirits were high; Sera felt at ease. Even if Owen, Star, and Barky were all missing… it was going to be okay.
Though… she did still miss him. And that would never go away.
Will we find you this time… Dad?
<><><>
“It’s kinda crazy how good Angelo’s memory is.” Sera flipped through several comic books that had been stacked and slipped into bags while she sat atop Giratina’s back.
“I think it’s ‘kinda crazy’ how I’ve been reduced to a supply carrier,” Giratina said.
“Hey, most Guardians lost flight!” Sera said, leaning back to relax. “Including me. These wings hardly work, and I’m still trying to get a handle on Void Shadowing again. And, you know, probably something I oughta avoid.”
Dialga and Palkia ferried the rest of the team through the skies. By now, it was close to evening. It was strange how the sun worked. The edges of Kilo used to be a whole section of the day apart. Now, everyone experienced the same amount of light at the same time, no matter where on Kilo they were. Was that what a larger world meant? It was like magic to Sera.
“Would be nice if you still had your warping power,” Sera added, glancing at Palkia.
“Oh, it would, wouldn’t it?” Palkia said with a faux-dramatic sigh. “I could always teleport us a mile forward, if you like. You’ll only need to afford me a moment to vomit afterward.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
“No need to complain.” Dialga leaned forward. Demitri was squeezing Mispy as if that would help him not fall off. “We’re nearly there.”
The green plains got closer and closer. To the north was Trina’s old place, where she and many other mutants made their homes once again. When they were revived, they seemed sane again—merely more battle-hungry than the average person. Battlehearts were already common, though; they blended in well. Gahi was staring at the forest thoughtfully.
“Gonna visit again?” Sera snarked.
“Sh-shattap!” Gahi protested back.
Sera raised her arms, smirking.
Below them was another small town, buildings half-warped and twisted in the curved streets. It didn’t look like that before.
“Man, everything’s still Dungeon-warped,” Sera said. “The further out you go, the stranger it becomes. I sure hope the ‘lands beyond the sea’ aren’t all twisted…”
“Something to discover later, I suppose,” Palkia said. “Oh, I’m so excited to see what awaits us beyond our small island! It’s a whole world to explore! A true, planet-sized world!”
“One thing at a time, Palkia,” Dialga said gently.
They made landfall. Sera sniffed around and looked to the others as they dismounted. Out of everyone, Zena was making a beeline for one of the buildings.
“Uh, Zena?” Sera called, running after her.
The others fanned out to check on the inhabitants. Already, several curious Pokémon were coming out to inquire, leaving most on information duty to tell everyone about what happened when the world reformed.
But Zena entered one of the empty buildings. Seeing nobody there, she glanced up and slithered to the rooftop. Sera hopped and followed her.
“Oh!”
And waiting for them was Mu, sitting down with a scarf in her hands.
“Sis?” Sera asked quietly.
“This is his,” Mu whispered.
That pink scarf… It was faded now, but Sera recognized it instantly. Owen had worn it during the battle against Kilo.
“Oh, Mu…”
“Where
is he?” Mu hissed, twisting the scarf. “I looked
everywhere for him. Is he… is he out there, in that big world? I can’t warp there. I can only warp around in Kilo. What am I supposed to do?”
Sera glanced nervously at Zena, who now had a more pensive look. And, for once, Sera saw genuine hurt in the Milotic’s eyes. Sure, Zena was fine without Owen, but… of course she would miss him, too.
Part of her wanted to tell Zena it was okay to show some emotion about it. The other, though…
“Sis, it’s… it’s gonna be okay. You’ll see him again someday, right?” she asked. “And even if not, you… you gotta be happy for him. He gave us this whole world. How can we be sad about that, right?”
“Because
he’s not
here!” Mu snapped, glaring at Sera. There were no tears. Her mouth was dry. She must have been on the roof for a while… “Stop all these stupid ‘it’ll be okay’ lines! You guys may have lost your powers, but I
know you’re all hurting!”
The ghostly Zoroark had no counter.
Zena stared at the village to find something else to distract her.
“It’s not fair,” Mu said. “He did
everything for this world. Sure, he messed up, and things got bad because of it, but if he didn’t… wouldn’t everyone have just died?! He was just keeping us
alive! I wouldn’t be
born if it wasn’t for him!”
She hugged the scarf to her chest.
“I didn’t even get to thank him. For raising me, taking care of me… Even if I was born from Dark Matter, he still just…”
Mu snapped her head to Zena.
“How can… how can you be so
calm about this? You were always mad, always upset, about… about unfair things, about the gods making decisions mortals should’ve made on their own, not be pushed around by divine rules. So how is
this fair?! Huh? Some rule the gods made is why Dad’s gone!”
“H-hey, Sis, c’mon. He’ll be back,” Sera assured her.
“It’s already been too long,” Mu snapped back. “I don’t know where all that divine power went, but I’m
glad none of the gods have it! Because they’ll just make another dumb rule, and…”
She squeezed the scarf so tightly that absorbed tears leaked from it.
“I just wish he was back.”
The wind blew. Treetops danced slowly all around the small village.
“I wish you wouldn’t keep it all bottled up,” Mu said. “I’m afraid that if one day, someone
really disappears, it’ll just… be numb. That nobody will react, they’ll all say, oh, he was ready, oh, it was their time to go. No! That’s not fine! People need to be sad, angry! He deserves people getting angry about what happened to him! I don’t…”
Zena slithered close to Mu, picking her up in her ribbons. Mu held the scarf close, while Zena held Mu closer.
“Just be sad. Just… be honest,” Mu begged. “I don’t understand how you go on with your smiles and blank faces…”
Sera took a seat at the edge of the rooftop, looking at the sky. It was so bright, not a single cloud or distortion. She remembered when the sun scared her. That fear was gone now. It hadn’t been very long, yet the Voidlands and its reddish purple clouds were a distant memory. Was that another blessing of the new world?
“If things were different,” Zena said gently, “maybe I would be upset. Crying, shouting at the heavens for what they did to a world’s hero. But… I know better. I didn’t realize you couldn’t feel what I did. Owen’s coming back. He feels… closer every day.”
“You just say that to feel better,” Mu muttered.
“No, Mu. I really do. I’m not
that hopeless.” Zena gently set Mu down again. “It’s a deeper feeling. But I know he’s coming. Sera… don’t you?”
“Uh, not really,” Sera admitted bluntly. “But my connection to him is… it’s sorta weaker. I only recently got to know him again. You’re more recent.”
Sera glanced down at the village below. She spotted Mhynt exiting a resident’s house, waving at the occupants as they thanked her.
“Hey, Mhynt!” Sera called. “You feel Owen getting, like, closer every day, or some poetic stuff like that?”
“Is
that the feeling?” Mhynt asked. The Treecko kicked off the ground and landed, in one bound, next to Sera on the roof. “Not specifically. But I did have this…
poetic feeling that I shouldn’t be worried.”
She glanced at Mu, who seemed equal parts confused and skeptical.
Zena gently held the Charmander’s shoulders with her ribbons. “Mu, don’t forget… you’re partly Dark Matter. You may not notice this subtle hope.”
“Don’t give me that,” Mu growled. “I… I can feel good vibes just fine!”
“But you can only feel
our hurt, is that right?” Mhynt tested. “Unlike most of us… you retained your powers. And that might mean you also retained its side effects, the same ones Diyem had.”
Mu sighed irritably again.
“Okay then. How close does he feel now?” Mu asked. “Is he gonna just… fall from the sky right now, making me look like an idiot?”
Another wind blew.
Zena and Mhynt both turned their heads to the sky in the same direction. Sera did the same a moment later, though she didn’t see anything.
“…I guess not,” Zena said, followed by a sudden giggle.
“Don’t
do that!” Mu pounded her fists against Zena’s scaly body, doing no damage. “I thought I was gonna be an idiot!”
“Too late for that.” Sera smirked. When Mu threw a rock at Sera, it went straight past her and into the illusion she’d conjured to offset her position.
“Okay, then explain why you both looked at the same spot!” Mu demanded.
“It’s where I feel him,” Zena explained.
“It’s a literal direction?” Sera asked. “Wait… Hang on! Can’t you do some math stuff to figure out how close he is if you take where you feel him from different spots, or something?”
“Triangulation,” Mhynt confirmed. “You know, we
could do that.”
“What? We can get numbers on this thing?!” Mu hopped to her feet as Zena gazed at the sky again, tilting her head. “Who’s the biggest nerd in the world? We can have him measure the—hey, PALKIA!” Mu sprinted off the roof, landing with a tumble, and ran toward the Spacekeeper just down the road.
Mhynt chuckled. “That was very clever, Zena,” she said. “Just giving her that hope…”
“Yeah, uh, I guess it can help buy some time,” Sera said. “But Palkia’s not exactly good at lying. You’ll want to tell him to be in on it for his sake… until they find Owen.”
Mhynt nodded. “I don’t doubt he’ll return. But I have no idea
when, or how…”
Zena blinked, her serene smile suddenly becoming one of polite confusion. “I wasn’t lying,” she said. “Mhynt, you were looking in the same direction. I thought you felt him, too?”
“I caught your signal and played along,” Mhynt replied. “I have good intuition.”
Zena stared at them all, then at the sky again. But then, the sea serpent’s posture rose significantly as if something alarmed her.
“Zena?” Sera asked.
Far away, the outline of the Tree of Life glowed faintly brighter with prismatic light.
Zena’s gaze slowly followed something invisible high in the sky. Down, down, down—
A pillar of light erupted from the earth, only a few hundred feet away from town. Immediately after, two other columns erupted beside it. Shockwaves of wind toppled Sera off the roof, landing roughly in the village streets.
“Oh, come on!” Mu shouted from afar.
Just can’t be satisfied, huh, Sis? Sera dusted herself off. The others were already running to the impact site.
Past a few trees, over a small hill, and finally into a clearing, Sera met up with the others. Even Mu managed to make it despite her stature.
Three Pokémon sat in the glade, awash with golden light that peeled off their bodies in golden spheres. Soon, those lights faded, and the wind died down.
Arceus. Mew. Charmander. The former two were unconscious, as if still in a long slumber. The Charmander was rubbing his head, sitting up groggily.
“Owen?” Zena whispered. Sera didn’t dare speak.
The Charmander saw something on the ground. Curious, he picked it out of the grass. It was a necklace with a claw as its charm. As he picked it up, the claw disintegrated. The Charmander stared at it for a few seconds and then smiled fondly. He whispered a thank you to a feral name she didn’t recognize.
Mew and Arceus stirred faintly. They were fine, but still totally out.
Finally, Charmander noticed them. He stared at them all with a confused, blank expression.
“Oh, Owen, don’t joke,” Zena begged. “Not amnesia again. Please.”
His blank expression held for a few more seconds. Then, he cracked a smile. “Oh, alright.” He stood up, looking at his claws with a faint frown.
Mu threw a rock at his face. Owen crossed his arms. A Protect didn’t form, and the rock shattered on his nose, giving him a nosebleed.
He staggered back and sneezed blood. “Guess I deserved that one,” he said. But the annoyance was short-lived. Covered with blood yet smiling through it, he said, “Glad to be back, guys…”
Mu cried out, tackling him to the ground. The others closed in shortly after, and Sera joined them.
It was quiet, but Zena finally let her tears flow. Relief and joy cascaded over pent-up sorrow. Sera didn’t need to read emotions to tell.
If only because, through blurred vision, she felt the same way.
