- Partners
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Chapter 73 – Gather
With so much that had happened, it was a miracle that they could clean up Quartz HQ at all. There was still a lot more to do. The walls of the fifth floor were still wrecked here and there, holes making new passageways into rooms, rendering the actual doorways useless. Blood coated parts of the halls on various other floors. Severed plants, rubble, and cooled molten rock littered the floor, and the air was filled with the lingering pressure of countless stressed mutants.
What’s wrong? What’s wrong?
I can’t see. Can’t see.
Lavvie, open your eyes! I want to see!
Lavender frowned, complying. His eyes trailed over the trembling mutants, still in shock from the battle. Next to Lavender was Lucas, no longer in his Mega form, looking skinny and frightened. He let out soft whines now and then, flinching to any form of contact. Lavender tried to ease him out of it, but he was inconsolable.
Dad? How about Dad?
Is Dad okay?
He’s alive, right?
Lavender let out a sound that was a mixture of a whine and a chirp. The chimeric Pokémon crouched down and paced toward Eon, bumping his beak against the other Espurr. “Dad?”
Eon jumped, looking at Lavender, then back at Rim. She was still staring emptily forward, a bit of drool collecting at the corner of her mouth. Eon reached forward with a paw and cleaned some of it off; Rim didn’t respond. Was she getting worse? Her aura felt so weak. It was barely keeping itself together.
“Rim…” Eon reached closer, rubbing under her chin. Her eyes remained open; Eon looked like he was in pain when he reached forward to close her eyelids. They didn’t reopen.
“No,” Lavender whispered. “She’s… she’s still alive. I feel it.” He reached out to paw at her, but then stared at his own talons. He’d risk cutting through her fur if he got too rough. A simple scrape, the way she was… Rim was always delicate. Her barrier kept her safe, yet now…
“She just n-needs some rest,” Eon said, nodding. “I… St-Star… Star did something bad to her, Lavender,” he explained. “B-but I’ll find a way to fix it. Always do. I’ll find a way. I’ll…”
They all fell into silence; Lavender looked at the remaining mutants.
Can we help?
What can we do?
Lavender, do something!
Countless voices echoed in Lavender’s mind. He winced. Shh, shh, let me think… And the voices quieted down, though a few of them still seemed to mutter little concerns and ideas.
“What happened to Owen, Dad?” a mutant asked—this one was a Raichu with the wings of a Mothim and the claws of a Sandslash. “He looked so…”
“Star possessed him. And then she…” Eon shook his head, his body expanding and shifting from an Espurr to Owen’s mutant form, towering over all of them. He staggered back so he didn’t accidentally crush the comatose Espurr. “She must have planned to do that eventually. Using Owen to kill me. M-my own Owen… h-how could she—how could she—”
“Dad,” Lavender said shakily.
Eon took in a muted gasp, hiding his face from the others. “I—I’m sorry. You shouldn’t see me like this. I’m… I’m your father. We need to get through this together.”
“But how?” Lavender asked. “Owen… he looked so angry… but why? Shouldn’t he be angry at Star, and not… you?”
Eon clenched his jaws. A few of the mutants looked at one another with uncertainty, then back at their father.
“Dad?” the mutant Raichu asked. “How come Owen’s mad at you, too?”
Eon looked back at them, and then looked at his paws. “I… He doesn’t like what we’re doing with the Guardians. Taking their Orbs, I mean.”
“But you said that it was to free them,” Raichu said.
Lavender nodded. “It’s mean, but it’s even meaner that they have to stay like that, right?”
“I…” Eon never completed his answer.
“Dad…” Another mutant stepped forward, this one with the body of a Flareon, the fur of a Jolteon, and the fins of a Vaporeon. “Is he mad because we kill people?”
Various mutants shifted uncomfortably.
“When we black out, sometimes you say that something bad happened. We know what that means, Dad…”
“N-nothing happens,” Eon said hastily.
The mutants frowned. Lavender shrank away. “Dad’s been getting better at that. We don’t go berserk nearly as often, and… and now it’s usually only when he switches us to battle mode. That’s how it’s supposed to be, right? Then you don’t have to actually… see it happen.”
And once again, the audience found various parts of the hall to observe instead of their father.
“Dad?” The Eevee-evolution fusion looked up. “When this is all over… Are you going to turn it off forever?”
“Yes,” Eon said immediately. “Yes, with all my power. I… We just need to save the world from them. You’ve seen what they’re like. And…”
“How come you need Owen for it?” Lavender asked. “And the rest of Team Alloy?”
Eon ran a claw over Rim’s limp form, and then picked her up. “Owen… all of Team Alloy, but Owen most of all… we were partners. We worked together just like Rim and I a long time ago. It’s the sort of bond that… I don’t know how to replicate. It’s irreplaceable. And it’s tangible. It’s something that we could use to usurp them, give me the edge that…” Eon’s voice quickened, but then he slowed to a stop. “But… but he doesn’t remember that anymore. It’s gone.”
“Because of how he was split apart?” Lavender asked.
“No,” Eon said. “Well… some of that might be true. But the rest…” He shook his head. “It’s hidden behind that Divine Decree. He doesn’t remember. And I can’t tell you about it, either.”
“If he remembered, do you think he’d partner up with you again?” Lavender asked. “If any of them did?”
“I don’t know anymore,” Eon finally said, slumping over. “I wish that I could just say one magic word and Owen would suddenly remember everything, smile, and go by my side. Would be nice to have the power over wishes, huh? Maybe I’d be able to pull another miracle like the Reincarnation Machine all over again.”
Lavender glanced at Rim, then at Eon. But when he did, there was something new in Eon’s eyes—they were wider.
“Star possessed Owen,” Eon repeated. “What if… that also gave him Star’s blessing?”
“Huh?” Lavender tilted his head.
“What if that broke the Decree?”
“Maybe?” He wasn’t sure how significant that was. Eon always thought it was important to break through that thing, but why did it matter here?
Eon suddenly stood up. “If I had to know where Owen was, right now…” He paced around, letting a few other mutants inspect Rim, though he warned them to be gentle. “…He left for Brandon’s… but I don’t think he’ll stay there that long. I don’t know what he’ll tell him, but… But Owen will definitely want to go back to Hot Spot. It’s his… home. Even after all this. Maybe he’s heading there now? I… Does that make sense?”
The mutants all stared blankly at him, including Lavender. None of them knew Owen the way Eon did.
“I’m going to try. One last time, I want to see if he hears me.” He backed away from Rim, giving her one last look. “Please—take care of Rim, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, but—what are you gonna tell Owen?” Lavender asked. “Try on me!” And you guys, try to listen, too. Maybe if we work really hard, we’ll hear him!
The spirits within Lavender all agreed and listened with all their might.
Eon hesitated, but then gave Lavender a small smile. “There are so many things and so many places that I’d want to talk to him about. But, to start… I’m going to ask Owen about Kanto.”
Lavender’s head-crest fanned out, then relaxed. “Can you say that last part again?”
I didn’t hear it.
Me neither.
I think I did, but I forgot.
Eon shook his head. “I need to go. Take care of Rim, okay?”
The Ditto, still as a mutant Charizard, sped through the halls, using generated updraft to glide the turns with ease. Everyone’s attention then turned to Rim. The Meganium from the battle earlier nuzzled Rim with concern. “Her aura’s getting so weak…”
“What can we do?”
“How… how weak is it?” Lavender asked, leaning closer. He nudged Rim; no response. She used to react at least slightly, but now, it was like she was completely asleep. She was barely breathing. “N-no, don’t answer. I… she’s…”
She’s dying.
She’s fading.
What do we do?
We have to do something.
Lavender, do something!
You can save her, right?
Do something!
Do something!
Lavender shook his head, trembling. Quiet, quiet, please, I… I can’t hold you all in if you get so…
The spirits settled back down again.
Lavender nuzzled Rim closer, feeling her weak breaths against his feathers. She wouldn’t last before Eon got back, would she? And if he came back without Owen, and then Rim was gone, too…
Can’t we do anything?
Anything?
Lavender listened to Rim’s heart. It was beating, but… That wasn’t the problem. It was her aura. He couldn’t feel it. Soon, her spirit would slip away, and…
Her… spirit.
Lavender glanced at all the other mutants, then at Rim again. Then back at the mutants. “I can save her.”
They all perked up. “How? What will you do?”
“I’ll save her the same way you guys get saved. Do you guys trust me?”
The mutants nodded unquestioningly. Lavender was one of their strongest and smartest mutants—even if he was a little different, with all of the friends inside of him.
A few mutants realized what Lavender was about to do and beamed. Lavender beamed back, turned to Rim, and gently wrapped his beak around her chest. He closed his eyes, searching for her essence… There it was. That flickering, golden light within her aura, weak as it was…
He breathed in. Rim’s body breathed out. And then, it lay still. A new warmth to accompany all the others flowed into him, caressed by the countless other spirits that tried to talk to Rim. They got weak, confused replies from her.
La… ven…der…?
It’s okay, Auntie. You’re safe now.
What’s… where… so warm…
Just rest, Auntie. I know what to do. I’ve done it all the time! I’m gonna Reincarnate you, okay?
He sensed apprehension from Rim then, but she also seemed too tired to question it. She was already sinking into the cozy warmth inside his being. Just… be careful…
I will.
He was already bounding through the halls. He whispered “ten” to the wall, then spun around and down the new halls. Into the lab, he found the nearest empty Reincarnation chamber, staring at the clear glass. He pressed a button and the machine lit up. He read the interface, squinting at the small screen in the center, and pressed his talon on the start button.
Two words appeared on the screen: ‘Insert spirit.’
Lavender looked at the apparatus to the side that opened up, glowing slightly with something that resembled a Protect barrier. He sifted through his spirits until he could find Rim’s, leaning forward for a gentle breath. A single, golden orb floated out and into the tiny Protect sphere, which snapped shut before Rim’s spirit could fade. The sphere sank into the machine; shortly after, he saw the spirit at the top of the cylinder. He smiled, nodding, and looked at the interface again.
‘Provide body specifications.’
Lavender typed in “Rim” and confirmed. His tail-fin wagged with anticipation; he looked up at the spirit again, and then back at the screen in time to see the confirmation page disappear. “Good!” Lavender said, already seeing artificial aura channel and coat the spirit, and then the cylinder itself filling with a thick fluid.
Satisfied, Lavender pressed his forehead softly against the cylinder and backed away. Feeling cheerful, he shifted to his Scolipede form and rolled back down the halls to tell the others the good news.
<><><>
“Good. Then everything is in order.”
Mobilizing an entire mutant bug army was more work than Har could have anticipated. Sure, the spirits were easy enough—they could go in the Bug Orb and forget about it. But the actual, living mutants? Har grumbled, rubbing his forehead. He needed a break. After what felt like half the day of nothing but walking and coordinating, he wanted to curl up and nap.
His room within Trina’s abode was coated in Rawst leaves, lined with books. Well, it used to be; they had packed most of it away to go to Hot Spot. That would be another worrisome change, but… maybe it was for the better? His annoyingly cheerful, ‘complete’ counterpart, even with his inferior body, was at least tolerable. But the way Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were toward one another was going to be an aching needle in his brain any time he looked at the erased versions that he lived with. The ones he called his partners.
Trina was coming; he sensed her from two turns down in the labyrinth. She seemed to be carrying something with her vines; scarves? Har wasn’t all that interested in fashion statements… Maybe they were for someone else. He sat up, straightening his back to look as formal as possible.
The Serperior nodded at Har as her first action, and Har nodded back. “I trust you are doing well?”
“Yeah.”
“I wanted to give you something.”
“Oh, that’s for me?”
“In a sense.” Trina handed them over; each one was a pale green color and radiated Mystic energy. He felt it upon contact, like a dull pressure all around his scales.
“What’s… what do they do? I get the feeling these aren’t just normal scarves.”
“This is something that will be a bit stronger than the average Scarf. It’ll only work once… but I have three of them. And they only activate under a specific circumstance.”
Three scarves… Har tensed his jaw, not wanting to ask another question. He took them wordlessly and returned to his nest. “Well, thanks.”
“I’m assuming you know what they’ll do?”
Har growled, tracing a claw along the soft fabric. Three scarves, and after what had happened with Team Alloy, and Trina’s little remarks about how meeting them would be good for him…
“It’ll return their memories,” Har said, unable to suppress a snarl. “They wanted them gone. I don’t see why you should give them back. That’s not fair.”
“Mystics can only seal memories, not erase them,” Trina said, shaking her head. “They are never truly gone. That’s something fundamental, according to Star: the persistence of memories in the spirit. Nobody, not even a god, can change that.”
“Well, they said they wanted to keep it away. I figure it’d only be fair to honor that for as long as possible, huh?” Smoke trailed out of Har’s nostrils, ready to blast the three scarves into piles of ash.
Trina stared, expressionless. She was daring him. Daring him to destroy the scarves in front of her—or at all. She suddenly felt a lot larger. Har shrank back, the flame on his tail dimming. The smoke cleared. He balled up the scarves and set them by his bed. “They don’t even know they have them.”
“I told them from the outset that it was temporary until they could find new identities. I advised against it, but I’m not one to deny my subjects something they truly desired. And perhaps it did delay their grief. But, Har… even if the memories that had been sealed away are incomplete, it was the basis of who they were. By sealing that away, I’ve observed that we may have… stunted them. You have already grown to be someone completely unlike Owen. But now you only want to see your old Team Alloy back to normal.”
“No.” Har narrowed his eyes. “I wanted them to be happy. I don’t care how.”
Trina closed her eyes and turned her head down, breathing through her nostrils. “When you’re ready, Har, I have put that power to you. I trust that you will at least tell them the truth. I believe, after seeing their copies, they are ready to make that choice, and they are ready to accept their full identities and retain who they are now.”
The Charizard said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the scarves; he knew he couldn’t destroy them. It would betray the trust that Trina had given him and, more importantly… it would put him in an unjust control over the rest of his team.
“I trust that you won’t misplace them,” she said. “Conferring blessings is incredibly difficult. I don’t know why it is such an easy thing for Anam to do, or how your counterpart did it without any practice. Perhaps it is some kind of specialty in their Mystic powers. But I won’t be able to replace them.”
“Okay, then how long do I have?” Har asked in a growl.
“The power will fade by tomorrow.”
Har jolted upright, but Trina was already slithering out. He squeezed his claws over the scarves, piercing the fabric with tiny holes. “Why couldn’t you have just given me time to decide for myself?”
“This is what they wanted long ago. It has nothing to do with you. Now, I’ll be going to speak with Owen and the others in Hot Spot to make final arrangements for our arrival. Everybody will be gathered in the central chamber for our migration. I shall return with another Badge’s power and guide us all there under the cover of night.”
Her voice faded as she turned down the next corner of the labyrinth of silk.
Har sat in the middle of his room, staring at the scarves again. “Guys…” He didn’t know what it would do to them.
Ani, Ax, and Lygo. Would he lose them? Or… would he have them back?
<><><>
Where was Owen when they needed him?! The sky was falling! Or—or what, what was it doing? It seemed to be growing a huge vortex right above Hot Spot. Demitri didn’t know the first thing about vortexes or rips in reality or any of this Mystic junk beyond fleeting thoughts from Mispy, who had gotten them from Owen. Secondhand-secondhand thoughts. Double-secondhand. Thirdhand?
Demitri took a shaking step back, eyes wide and pupils narrow. It was darker than the evening sky. There was blackness, and then a purplish outline, and then… it was like going blind. Complete absence of light. He felt as if he couldn’t look at it for long without getting swallowed completely by it.
Vines wrapped around his torso, anchoring him back to reality. He looked at Mispy, her eyes just as wide, saying everything that she physically couldn’t. Without a clue what to think of it themselves, they turned their attention to the other two—the Elite and the leader himself. “Nevren? What’s happening?” Demitri said. “P-please, you gotta know!”
Nevren wasn’t looking at the sky. Instead, he was looking at Anam, who was still digging into his own skull with his slimy claws. Black ooze seeped out of the Goodra’s eyes and head wherever the claws pierced. What was happening to Anam? Did it have anything to do with the strange void over them?
“P-please… stop…” Anam said, but then his head sank into the ground, becoming nothing but a purple, bubbling puddle flecked with black.
A different voice came from the puddle. “You were wrong… accept it.”
Demitri exchanged a look with Mispy, but they were equally confused. That wasn’t Anam’s voice. It was… what was it? It sounded like all of the spirits inside of Anam were talking at once, through him. How was that even possible? Where was it coming from, or was it… just there?
Why couldn’t he go back to being ignorant and blissful? He longed for the days when he was resting with Mispy—Axew and Chikorita, sparring against boulders and trees and each other. Little Heart missions to rescue a Pokémon in need, or arrest some outlaw in trouble. Sure, he didn’t have his memories back then, but did that matter?
Okay, maybe it did. He glanced at Mispy, then back at Anam’s puddle. “Should—should we get the others?” Demitri asked, defaulting to seeing if someone else could do something—anything—to help Anam.
The void above them let out a low rumble, like deep, distant thunder. It shook Demitri’s chest, leaving him to shake his head. “That felt crazy… Mispy?”
She had crumpled over, eyes wide, like she had been punched in the gut. The wind had completely left her. To his right, Nevren had staggered back, holding his chest as well, before his breath returned to him.
Anam’s body was a lot darker. “No… It’s… it’s not too late…”
“Nevren… You used your power… and used Anam… to create the Waypoints. You designed all of the technology. You gave Anam what he called hope…” The Goodra stood up, his entire upper half infested with inky blank sludge. It seeped into his lower half like dye in water. “Yet it was all to weaken his mind. All to control him. All to betray him.”
Nevren blinked several times, looking at Demitri and Mispy.
“I was right all along. No matter how much good Anam does for you all… It means nothing. People like you… will undo it all.”
“N-Nevren?” Demitri asked. “What’s Anam—what’s that voice talking about?”
“Nothing. Something within Anam is out of control. Go and get the others, quickly. We need a means to subdue—”
Nevren suddenly turned toward Anam and held his hand forward. A transparent barrier formed, flashing when Anam abruptly got to his feet and slammed his body against it. A single, red eye glimmered in the faceless Goodra’s head. Despite having no mouth, the Goodra spoke, its red eye flashing. “This world…” He raised a shadow-infused fist. “Anam failed to save it.” The shadows intensified; Nevren launched a precise Psychic blast at the fist, knocking it clean off. It flew behind them, splattering in a pile in the grass, which instantly withered away.
But the shadows remained on the stump at the end of Anam’s arm. The fist didn’t matter anymore. “Now,” the voices said, “it is my turn.”
He slammed down onto the barrier, shattering it effortlessly. Nevren immediately jumped away and shouted to Demitri and Mispy, “Into Hot Spot! Now!”
He shut his eyes and disappeared in a flash of light.
Demitri stepped back next, followed by Mispy trying to slide into the caverns, but they were both too slow. Even Anam, now that he was back on his feet, outpaced them. Black fog seeped from his body in black boils like the gaseous pits of hot mud.
“M-Mispy—” Demitri turned around to run, but Anam opened his mouth and fired a beam of blackness at the Haxorus’ back.
He wailed, the blast splashing in all directions, but the impact site was left blackened, exposing bare skin beneath his tough scales. Mispy wrapped her vines around him, pulling him close, but they didn’t have time to fuse. Demitri couldn’t concentrate enough to do it safely—what would happen if they did it under so much stress? He pushed away from her; Anam was charging up another blast.
“No!” Mispy lunged forward and wrapped a layer of herself around Anam’s head. A shadowy explosion expanded the plant wrapping, leaving huge patches of rot that seeped into the outside. Mispy winced.
“M-Mispy? Does it… hurt?” Since when could Mispy feel pain in this form? Her body didn’t register that sort of thing. Unless… it wasn’t hurting her body.
“Y-yes,” Mispy said, blinking back tears.
They had to get it away from them. They needed time to warn the others before Anam killed them all—or whatever it was that took control of him. That wasn’t Anam—that was… Demitri, hyperventilating, could barely think straight at the sight of Mispy actually in pain. He hadn’t seen that since she was a Chikorita.
What would Owen have done in this situation? He always had some way out of things, didn’t he? He was supposed to be the one to strategize or give solid advice.
Having no idea what else to do, Mispy wrapped more vines around Anam, even as the current ones started to blacken and fall away at the tips.
Demitri tried to think back to the last time they had fought together. Their fight against their counterparts—what did they do then? Did any of that apply here?
More and more of Mispy wrapped around Anam, sealing him away, while her main body shrank back. She curled her neck down, sniffling—clearly no longer used to pain in general, let alone at this magnitude. “Mispy!” Demitri wanted to run toward her, hug her, find some way to comfort her while they bought more time—Nevren would be warning them, right?—but until then, he couldn’t see her suffer. He wanted to comfort her, pick her up, take her to—
Pick her up…
Demitri’s arms twitched and his claws clenched. He glanced at Anam. He was completely wrapped up in vines by now, like a grotesque cocoon of plant and rot. Every so often, it expanded with a shadowy explosion, but Mispy diligently sealed him with another layer each time. She looked like she was about to throw up with how her eyes bulged with every explosion.
Demitri grasped at one of his tusks and pulled it free. “Sorry, Mispy!” He raised the blade and swung it down on the first vine, but that wasn’t his true aim. While that slash was indeed enough to cut through it like butter, the shockwave that followed from his desperate strike expanded the cut to all the other vines, and then into the ground beside them in a straight-lined fissure.
Demitri dropped his blade and lunged for the cocoon, wrapping his arms for whatever sort of grip he could possibly find. Then, he curled his neck around to get it over his back, crouched down, and, with all his strength, hurled Anam with the power of his entire upper body. For good measure, he used the back of his head and neck to lob the cocoon even further.
His claws throbbed with a dull pain. He looked at them to see what was wrong, but regretted it when he did. They looked like they had gone through a thousand years of sun, brittle and chipped away on all sides. Clicking them together, he feared, would make them fall off.
“H-how does m-my neck look, Mispy?” Demitri squeaked, not wanting to know what touching the cocoon had done to it. There was a dull pain there, too. And it was starting to feel worse.
He tried to focus on how far he had thrown Anam instead. He was a little, black dot, still flying through the air until he landed hard on the prairies. It was about six Gahi-seconds away—more than enough time to try to get everybody out of Hot Spot if they hurried. They could warp to Kilo Village!
He finally turned around to see how Mispy was doing. The mutant Meganium looked a lot smaller than usual, most of her body—that is, her vines—cut away. But her tears had stopped; Demitri cutting them off actually relieved the pain, rather than worsened it. He had hoped as much; his slashes didn’t cut into her the way Anam’s strange attacks did.
“Let’s go inside,” Demitri said, but then felt lightheaded. He retched, reflexively bringing his claws to his mouth to hold down his bile, but when he did, one of his claws fell off. “Wh-what…”
Mispy wrapped what little was left of her around him and urged, “Inside.”
“O-okay… okay…”
But before they had the chance to go in, Mispy turned her head to look up, vaguely in the same direction Demitri had thrown Anam, but further south. “Gahi?”
Demitri heard it, too. It sounded slightly like the singing of his wings, but there was something different about them. It sounded more like metallic wind chimes. In the dark, it was hard to see anything, but they could at least see the silhouette of a Flygon heading toward them—or was it a Flygon? It seemed too dark, and, even stranger, there were dots of white all along it, like stars. But the stars weren’t part of the sky—they moved below the clouds.
The starry Flygon landed in front of them earlier than expected, several feet away from them at first, and then right on the ground a blink later. Demitri yelped, stumbling onto Mispy.
“What’s going on?!” the Flygon shouted. “The whole freaking sky’s tearing open!”
“In! In!” Mispy pulled Demitri back. Gahi followed after, hiding inside Hot Spot the moment the void in the sky thundered.
Gahi’s wings folded to their sides; he clutched his abdomen and crumpled over, groaning. “What… what was that…?”
Mispy had to stop to catch her breath. Demitri’s vision had gone into a dark tunnel; he could only focus on Mispy’s vines that were wrapped around his arm, guiding him forward. He heard muffled noises of the others, who seemed to be in similar strained positions.
“What’s going on…?” Demitri wheezed, finally able to see something flickering in his darkened vision. It looked like a flame. “Owen? Is that—”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Owen said, and then Demitri felt a warm presence in front of him. “Demitri, eat this.”
Without thinking, Demitri opened his mouth and downed an Oran Berry. Warmth spread through him, followed by a soft light, and then some of his vision returned. He sighed in relief; the pain in his claws and back had faded significantly, too. Just a weak throb, now.
“Thanks, Owen,” Demitri said, looking to see that Mispy was feeling more revitalized, too. Though her vines didn’t grow back, her main body looked much better after two Orans.
“What happened?” Owen asked. “And why is—”
Another thunderous boom shook the caves; Enet wailed and crawled out from Jerry’s abode and hid near Owen in a tight, furry ball. Owen jumped and leaned forward, growling soothingly at the feral Zoroark.
“The sky’s falling!” Demitri blurted, motioning to the ceiling as if he could point at the sky from there. “There’s a huge hole in the—no, worse, Anam’s gone NUTS!”
Mispy straightened and flashed a glare at Nevren. “Anam said…”
Demitri glanced at Mispy, then at Nevren. That’s right—Anam was saying something about Nevren being the one who betrayed him. But how, and why? He didn’t know who that voice was—but it seemed like Nevren wasn’t denying it. Demitri leaned against Mispy, her vines wrapping around him in response, and he said, “Nevren, what did Anam mean? He said that you… betrayed him. Is that why he’s gone crazy? How come he—” Demitri held up his claws, realizing that they were still trembling. “His Ghost powers or something…”
“I don’t know what Anam is speaking of,” Nevren replied. “There is a strange entity in the Ghost Orb that is making him behave this way. I suggest we come together and fight it off so Anam can regain—”
“Wait, hold on,” Manny said, raising his voice. “What do you mean, the Ghost Orb’s going nuts? Those spirits should be fine with Anam, right? That’s, like, how spirits work!”
Demitri squinted. “Manny? Where’d your accent go?”
“Oh, uh—I’m actually Star right now,” the Lucario explained. “L-long story. I—”
“Oy, oy, hang on fer a hot second,” Gahi said with a snarl. “First you take over Owen, and then you think I’m just gonna let yeh slide with takin’ over Manny next?! Get outta him er I’m gonna—”
“No, no, he’s fine with it, I promise!” Star held her arms forward, waving her paws frantically.
“Oh, sure, like I’ll believe you, body-thief!” Gahi made a motion to stomp on the ground, but Mispy knocked one of her vines on Gahi’s cheek. “Yow!”
Mispy pointed with another, rotting vine behind her.
“Not right now, Gahi,” Demitri translated for Mispy. “We’re—Anam’s… We need to focus on that right now.”
Gahi growled, fists clenched tight. The cosmic Flygon snorted out a plume of white stardust and conceded, though not without glaring at Star. “Fine.”
Mispy blinked, nudging Demitri again. The Haxorus glanced at her, then followed where Mispy had been staring. From there, the others did, too, looking deeper into Hot Spot.
Heads turned to Rhys’ home to see the lithe Lucario staggering out. While his body seemed to be perfectly fine, he was fatigued that he had to lean against Elder to stay standing.
Demitri pulled away from Mispy, but she followed him anyway. “Rhys!” Demitri shouted, tempted to dive to save Rhys from his collapse. Instead, Mispy held him up on the other side.
“His aura…” Mispy shook her head.
“I’ll be fine, I—I’m just tired. I had a difficult fight against wraiths. They—they sapped my aura. I was caught off guard… used too much energy in the spirit realm. I’ll be fine, but Nevren…” He pointed at him. “I don’t know how, but you did this. The wraiths, Anam, the Dungeon in Hot Spot—it’s all connected, and you’re behind it.”
“Rhys, be careful of what you’re saying,” Nevren said. “You have no proof. I am just as surprised by these developments as you—”
“You turned Anam into your puppet, unleashing some kind of—some kind of evil that he’s been keeping under control,” Rhys said. “I felt it in his aura. When you ordered him to strike me down, and when he rebelled against you, I felt it. A dark… dark aura, like I was going blind simply seeing it. It was so overwhelming that I couldn’t see anything else, and…”
Rhys nearly fell forward again. Mispy channeled energy into Rhys—of what she had, at least—and propped him up more.
“Rhys, please,” Elder begged. “Don’t strain yourself. Rest, rest…”
“I cannot rest while Anam is rampaging,” Rhys hissed, “all because of Nevren destabilizing whatever control Anam must have had—I’m sure of it. Nevren! You—you TRAITOR!”
“Rhys, now is not the time for—”
“Wait, hold on, hold on,” Star said, holding her paws up. By now, everyone had gathered to see what the commotion was. Jerry glared at Step, but then growled when Willow hopped onto his head. ADAM buzzed with anxiety and spun his head around several times. Zena curled closer to Owen, whispering something to him. At the same time, Enet was growling at the air, which earned a similar, perplexed growl from Owen. Valle remained where he stood.
“Excuse me,” someone called; a Serperior slithered toward them, looking puzzled at the social chaos. “Why is everyone here?”
“Hi, Trina,” Star said with a wave. “Sorry, we’re busy trying to sort something out. Nevren here, he’s—”
“As if you’re one to talk,” Zena immediately said, growling at Star. “You stole Owen’s body! If anybody here is a traitor, it’s you!”
Star’s eyes widened as far as they could go, shockwaves of Fighting energy radiating off of Manny’s body. She spoke slowly, but loudly, “I was trying to HELP!”
“Your idea of help is—”
Demitri finally found his voice. “GUYS!” But it was so loud that it startled that Haxorus himself, making him cover his mouth. But it did its job; all heads turned to him, and a few of them winced, including Owen and Enet.
Mispy prodded Demitri to keep going, using another vine to wrap around his shoulders, gripping firmly.
That was the push he needed. “Can we argue later? This is pointless! Anam—he’s still going crazy, and I only threw him so far. If we take too long, he’s gonna come right back and…”
Star dug her claws into her head’s fur. “Why is Anam even going nuts?! He didn’t have anything to do with this!”
“Maybe all of your scheming made him upset,” Zena said.
“REALLY?” Star hissed.
“It was Nevren who destabilized Anam by turning him into a puppet,” Rhys hissed.
“St-stop arguing…” Mispy’s voice was too soft over the rest of the bickering. “St… st…”
Demitri clenched his jaw. She was trying so hard to talk, but the stress of everything was bringing back her stutter. He held her shoulder, but couldn’t find an opening to keep them from focusing on each other. No—they had a common enemy. He had to remind them. “Guys?! Anam?!” Demitri waved his arms, catching some of their attention.
“Is this really the time?” Nevren reinforced, motioning toward the entrance. “We can discuss my alleged treason later. Perhaps we should all focus on—”
“Owen!” Eon shouted from the entrance to Hot Spot, rushing in as an identical Charizard. “Owen, I know it seems bad, but—”
“OH, AND NOW HE’S HERE!” Star roared, slamming her paws against her eyes.
“W-wait, wait!” Eon motioned frantically behind him. “Before I came in here, I saw Anam—he’s—we need to get out, now! I think the wraiths—”
“Too late.”
With black flames covering his whole body, Eon flew limply across the room.