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standardizedbogey · 3 months

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“Did you ever date?”

Daichi faltered as he cracked open his drink. “You mean, like… before I came to Veilstone?”

“Yes,” Cyrus said, though he clearly didn't see a need to make it so limited.

“I did a little,” he said as he reshuffled his food and drink in his hands. “But I wasn't all that old when I left home so it was never more than kid stuff.”

Cyrus nodded absently as he worked the paper to properly cup his pirozhki. Daichi waited for the continuation that he felt should logically come next. When none came, he did it himself.

“Did you date?” Daichi asked, and at the look he added. “Back in Sunyshore.”

“I did,” Cyrus answered a touch stiffly. “Not by my choice. My parents were very insistent that I was to be paired up with someone… advantageous.”

“So they had money, then?”

“Everyone in my parent’s social circle did,” Cyrus told him, with a dull emphasis on its unimportance. “The woman I was sent with were chosen for their ties to useful businesses or politics. So of course I needed to create a proper impression, which I had thought would have involved proper knowledge and achievements. It's evidently all about social rituals and eye contact.” He said the last bit with particular disdain. “It was all utter nonsense.”

“Sounds like,” he said with a sympathetic nod. “Was the food at least good?”

“You wouldn’t believe how much technical skill it can take to make something completely insubstantial,” he scoffed. “I suppose it's fitting to match the inane conversations. I don't know why they chose women who couldn't understand anything substantive.”

Daichi took his time swallowing. “Did you at least offer definitions?”

“Of course,” he huffed insistently. “But I can only define so much before there isn't a point.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Daichi agreed, even though he was sure he could see the scene now.

Some teenage girl, dressed to the nines and bound by equivalent amounts of familial pressure, picked at her dinner to distract herself. Cyrus’s eye contact would have been blisteringly intense, and his info dumping (because he would absolutely be info dumping) would have been filled with unrecognizable terms. All of it would have seemed as practiced as it was in an earnest attempt to do what his parents insisted was important. And, he was sure, there would rarely if ever be a second date.

Daichi certainly empathized with the plight of these girls, but just as sincerely said, “It sounds like it was awful for you” to Cyrus.

“It was,” he agreed. “I’m very thankful to be here doing things like this rather than dating.”

Daichi nearly choked on his food.

They'd been sharing a bed for about six months at that point. And, over that time, it’d become increasingly clear how many gaps Cyrus’s upbringing had left in his knowledge. Whether by a lack of necessity due to his wealth, or increased mandate because of it, he'd had to learn so much of what most adults already knew.

Daichi had long gotten used to the endless discovery process. But, it seemed, he could still be blindsided.

“Cyrus?”

“What?”

“This is a date.”

Cyrus looked at Daichi as if he’d grown a second head. “We’re eating street food.”

“Mhm.”

“In casual clothing.”

“Yeah. And we’re walking to a movie instead of getting a limo or whatever.” He shrugged. “None of that stuff is necessary for something to be a date.”

Cyrus seemed ready to debate, but then took a thoughtful bite of his pirozhki instead.

“So a date,” he said finally, “Is simply going to a location with purpose.”

“And that purpose is to spend time with your partner, yeah,” he agreed. “You don't need anything else specific.”

“Hm…” he thought on it a bit more. “It still seems like a waste to create so many rituals and labels for something that has so few particulars attached to it.” He peeled down the paper to have more room to eat. “Especially if it is basically the same process as going someplace with any other relation.”

“I suppose it is,” Daichi agreed. “But I enjoy doing this with you, whatever you want to call it. So how do you feel about doing things like this more often?”

“I…” Cyrus wasn't the sort to blush, but he did sink into himself a bit when flustered. “I suppose I’m not opposed to it if this is really what you're expecting.”

“I'm glad,” Daichi agreed.

He smiled in his particularly small way. “Good. Then it's settled.”

“It is. And, for the record.” Daichi nudged his arm affectionately. “I love hearing how you explain things.”

Cyrus paused a bit over being told something he knew but very much liked hearing. “Well… Perhaps you'd like me to explain the new philosophy I'm working on.”

“Always.”

#galactic leader cyrus #commander saturn #gingashipping

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youllallriseintheink · 8 months

Text

Accretion, chapter 5

Accretion is a story that follows the rise and fall of Galactic Boss Cyrus and the fate of Team Galactic and the lives of those affected by it after its reformation under Saturn.

This is gonna be a sad one. I hope you all enjoy it.

---

The stars were, well, mediocre that night. There was only so much stargazing one could accomplish from the roof of the Veilstone building. And yet, Cyrus had spent a good deal of time there, sketching constellations when he was unable to sleep. It was peaceful- Veilstone might have been big enough to produce light pollution, but there was very little noise at night.

As Cyrus was connecting the stars on Orion’s Belt, a little orange spark entered his periphery and waved at him with its lightning bolt arm. A rotom. Cyrus attempted to wave it away. It was an immense coincidence that he'd come upon the same elusive species of Pokémon twice in his life, but since the world was to be destroyed in six weeks, he wasn't interested in submitting a new subject for study or introducing a new member to his team. It was useless to him and he wanted to be left alone.

The little rotom dodged his hand, grabbed onto his sleeve, and started pulling it back.

"What are you-"

It grabbed onto Cyrus' pokétch and looked him in the eyes as though desperate to communicate.

"Are you my rotom? From the abandoned garage?"

The rotom nodded.

Cyrus wasn't sure what to think. After all these years... After it had abandoned him when he needed it... "Do you... wish to possess my pokétch?" he asked.

The rotom nodded again. Cyrus got up and went back down the elevator that led to his quarters, the Pokémon following close behind. He pulled out his toolkit from one of his drawers along with the one rotom motor he'd never thrown away- the one from his now long-discarded toy robot.

"Screwdriver," Cyrus ordered the spark. Sure enough, it threw him the tool, just as it had way back then. Forty minutes and many alterations later, the brick-sized motor was ready to be attached to the pokétch, and the rotom successfully entered it.

"Why did you leave?" Cyrus asked the rotom, which was now levitating before him as the watch.

I never meant to leave! A trainer found me. He put me to sleep with one of his Pokémon's moves. By the time I woke up, I was in Snowpoint. I couldn’t get back. Trust me, I tried! I missed home. I missed you! Came the text on the device.

"I see. And why did you come back?"

Because I want to be friends again! The spark seemed to grow worried. If you do.

It took a moment for Cyrus to process that. His best friend had come home. He carefully reached out to the possessed watch and, once he determined that it was safe to touch, held it in his hands. "Yes, I suppose we could," he said.

The little face on the edge of the pokétch smiled brightly. Oh boy! We're going to have so much fun together! You've gotten a lot better at engineering, too! I'm not making static noises anymore, bzzt! Oh, there's one, but hey, nothing's perfect! So, what have you been up to, buddy?

And with that one question, Cyrus' heart sank. His rotom would be horrified by what he'd become. "I'm an engineer," he lied.

And you were okay without me?

"Yes. You leaving forced me to find my strength. After you left, I disposed of the idea of friendship entirely. I learned not to want or need anyone's company or approval, and my life was smoother for it.”

For some reason, the rotom’s smile flipped into a frown. Of course- it didn’t understand because it was an incomplete soul like all the rest. He'd have to lie about his story more than he originally thought.

"To get away from my family, I graduated a year early on scholarships and went to Canalave University. There, I met someone who was kind and accepting and treated me well. I began to wonder if there were other people like him and opened myself up to others as an experiment. There were others like him, and I came to have the friends and support I'd allowed myself to want when you were in my life. I received my degree, worked as an engineer for a few years, had an idea for an invention, received some funding from one of the only members of my family who was nice to me, and the rest is history."

That seemed to make Rotom happy. It smiled and bounced around as much as the short cord allowed it to. Text started appearing on the screen, and Cyrus had to gently hold it still to read it.

Wow! That sounds like just what you wanted way back then! I guess life really turned out for you, huh? I was sort of the same. Since I was forced to live away from home, I had to find my courage, too! The trainer released me pretty quickly, but I still got to meet so many new people and Pokémon and see so many places! It was great, bzzt! But now that I’m here, you’ll take me to the old garage sometimes, right?

"Of course,” Cyrus lied. What was he going to do with it? Have one of his subordinates release it far away from here? That seemed more humane than letting it realize what he was and what would become of the world.

Super!!! Now can you show me around your facility? It looked really big from outside!

“Yes,” Cyrus replied, scooping up the motor. He supposed this was perfect- he needed time to plan, after all.

“What’s that?” the rotom asked before they’d left the room, gesturing toward a shape hanging from a rack in the corner.

“That is...” a Pokémon he’d manipulated into evolving in order to use its strength. The only reason it was in his quarters was that it was now too attached to him to live apart without compromising its usefulness. “My pet crobat. You will be introduced to him in the morning.”

The whole tour was like that. Rotom wanted to know about everything. Thankfully, lying was second nature to Cyrus. Bombs became computer batteries. Pokémon held for experimentation in vats of green fluid became Pokémon they were trying to heal.

As the tour wore on, Cyrus reflected on his lies. The best lies were mostly truth, but his lie about his life... it sounded almost as though it could have happened. In another life, could he have been an inventor, surrounded by friends and still in contact with the few family members who'd treated him well? If he'd allowed it, would he have met more people like Saturn and seen his desire to end the world fade away? And then he wouldn't have to come up with a way to get rid of the little spark he held in his hands.

What's in there? Rotom asked, gesturing towards a door.

Cyrus stopped dead before the door. "That is..." the door to the grunts' dormitories. How many adoring grunts were in there? One hundred and fifty-three, if Cyrus was remembering correctly. And that wasn't counting the four commanders, or the numerous scientists at his disposal who had joined for funding and lack of academic red tape but who were all somewhere in the process of coming to believe in his ideals.

"I'm adored, rotom," Cyrus said, voice steely. "I'm loved, just as I wanted back then." He was useful to them. He was on a path to release the world from its pain, and even if they didn't fully understand his vision, his usefulness had made him more powerful and loved than he ever could have hoped to be otherwise.

Yes, everything he'd done- ruining his friendship with Saturn, lying to several dozen people, blowing up three lakes, torturing three Pokémon, locking himself into this lifestyle by becoming a wanted man- it hadn't been for nothing. If he'd gone down the path he'd described to rotom, allowed himself to be weak, then not only would he have suffered rejection from everyone he tried to befriend as had always been the case, he probably would have crawled back to his family and spent his life hurting others in attempt to gain love and contentment or in frustration from the lack of it. And then the universe would still have no hope for salvation. Both he and the world should be glad for the choices he'd made, and if his circumstances had led to this, he should be glad for them, too.

Cyrus felt the rotom tugging on his vest, pulling him out of his train of thought. Its screen contained several messages.

That's great! So, what's in there?

Did you hear something?

Bzzt, Yoo hoo, you okay, buddy?

What's going on?

"You may see in there in the morning. Come. I have something for you."

Yay! A surprise!

Cyrus knew now what he must do. He took Rotom to a supply closet and allowed it to select a pokéball for itself. It was only right since they were now trainer and Pokémon, he said.

Say, did you get to go on your Pokémon journey? it asked. It was more sedate now, the late night finally getting to it.

"No."

Good. That way we can go together.

"Yes. It will be perfect. Now return. Settle in," Cyrus ordered. The sleepy rotom left the watch and entered the fast ball it had chosen.

Cyrus took the ball and headed straight for Charon's quarters. Charon was always looking for new experimental subjects to extract money and glory from, and Cyrus needed his rotom kept apart from him. It was that simple. He knocked on Charon's door, and Charon answered it after a minute, looking like he'd just dragged himself out of bed. Most likely he had.

"This had better be important," Charon grumbled. "Master Cyrus," he tacked on for the sake of decorum.

"I have a new experimental subject for you. Its name is rotom," Cyrus explained. He felt the rotom bouncing around the pokéball in attempt to escape. He tightened his grip. "It is of utmost importance that you keep it comfortable. It is a new species of Pokémon, so there will be plenty of research to be done without breach of ethics. If I find out that you have gone against this, you will be terminated. And Charon?"

"Yes, sir?"

Cyrus fought to keep the tremble out of his voice. It was a good thing that rotom had come back now and not years ago, when changing his path would have easier and his willpower was less refined. "Keep it out of my sight."

The pokéball exchanged hands and Cyrus left, intent on finding some work to busy himself with until dawn. Six weeks and this would all be over. And then he would finally be at peace.

---

“Systems online,” Saturn said, pressing a button on the rather impressive control panel in the Galactic Base. The drones following the mission of the Spear Pillar came online. The giant screens that covered most of the far wall of the command center showed Cyrus as he walked through the caves of Mount Coronet with Mars and Jupiter at his side and a hand-selected fleet of grunts following behind him. Surrounding the main screens were several smaller ones showing the images from different drones. Saturn pushed a button and the large screens' image changed to show a helicopter manned by four grunts and carrying the containment chamber of the red chain. He pushed it again and it showed the outside of the Galactic Base. Saturn cycled through a few different drones before settling on the one trailing Cyrus. After that, he could sit back and wait, watching the screens and listening to the sound of twenty-odd grunts tapping away at drone control panels.

Everything was in place. The voice locks to the secret tunnels had been turned off so that a fleet of grunts, armed to the teeth with Pokémon and weapons, could flood through them in the event of a break-in. Another fleet was waiting on their second helicopter, ready for a command to give the Coronet team some backup. As Cyrus had prepared to ascend to godhood that day, Saturn had planned to be his safety net no matter what might arise.

And yet, Saturn couldn’t bring himself to relax. He felt nauseous. He’d known all along what this day would bring, but it was only days ago that it had truly sunken in: he was about to die, and the thought of what came next terrified him.

The past few weeks, Cyrus had been ready to snap at anyone who inconvenienced him. It was the worst bout of irritability Saturn had ever seen in him. Saturn had said something along the lines of “hey, at least the Spear Pillar mission is only a while away,” to try and ease him, and what he’d said back had chilled Saturn.

“Yes. Finally, all of it will end. All of it will be over.”

“...And the new world will begin?” Saturn had replied.

"Yes," Cyrus had said, sounding as though that was an afterthought to him.

That’s when it had hit Saturn: this was the man who would reform the universe. This hate-filled man, who hated humanity, hated the world, had precious few things he felt positively about, and was more inclined to destroy than create. What was perfection to him? What would be left after he destroyed everything he loathed? It was almost a comfort that Saturn, if he weren't a part of that perfect world, wouldn't be forced to see what the universe was about to become.

Saturn closed his eyes- an act that was only mildly irresponsible since there were so many grunts watching the drones- and thought back.

It was the Canalave University campus, the winter break before Cyrus had disappeared. A gentle snow was falling. Betty, who was floating by his side, levitated a long wool scarf and, using her telekinesis, wrapped it around herself from her neck to the tip of her tail.

“I can’t believe you bought Betty a present,” Saturn said. It was a good one, too- abras were too cold-sensitive to be out in this weather unclothed and too weirdly shaped to buy snow clothes off the rack for, so this would be the first winter she could follow them around outside.

“I had a theory it would work. I wanted to test it,” Cyrus explained, taking care to look uninterested. He actually looked his age back then- cheeks less hollow, eyes less baggy, generally more alive.

They were on their way to the Canalave Christmas festival. It had become an annual tradition of theirs since Saturn didn't want to see his family more than necessary and Cyrus wanted no contact at all with his. As they walked, Cyrus made what might have been a reach for Saturn's hand, but pulled back at the last second. "So... your romantic interest, the person you wanted to impress with your project..." Cyrus began, looking forward. "It was me, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Saturn replied, looking over to Cyrus and wondering what he would do with the information.

"I see," Cyrus said, making another reach for Saturn's hand and then stopping himself.

The poor idiot’s at war with himself, thought Saturn. Without thinking, Saturn took Cyrus by the shoulders and kissed him on the lips. Cyrus reciprocated. He held Saturn close and ran a hand through his hair. What am I doing? He's not capable of a relationship. Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen. The two separated, and Cyrus was looking at him like he was the most beautiful person in the world.

Eyes open. Cyrus was on the Spear Pillar, watching mirthlessly as the Gods of time and space were dragged through portals by tight, burning chains. Behind him, two preteens stormed through, throwing out their Pokémon with intent to interfere. Cyrus looked back at them for a moment, but once Mars and Jupiter initiated battle with them, he turned back to his work. They were an annoyance. A possible obstacle to his destruction. Nothing more. Why had Saturn spent the last six years helping to put the universe into those twisted hands?

Saturn knew the answer. Back in Canalave, he’d often considered talking to Cyrus about his toxic beliefs, and after Cyrus had revealed his plan, Saturn had the same thought anyone would have: to run, call the police, and cut ties. But he’d wanted to see what would happen if he let Cyrus do his thing without interference. He was impressed and curious. And even now, even as guilt-ridden as he was, Saturn knew that he wouldn’t have been the first to try and stop Cyrus and presumably wouldn't have been the first to try and help him, nor was it really his responsibility to. Saturn had plenty of reasons for shame. He had followed a hundred immoral orders to earn himself this front-row seat to the apocalypse. But Cyrus' choices were his alone, and this was probably inevitable.

A multi-coloured shroud erupted from the two Gods. The images in the video feed from every drone dimmed as it covered the sky region-wide. Even in the windowless control room, the air seemed to darken. Cheers erupted in the control room, followed by rapt, reverent silence.

In one of the video feeds, Saturn noticed a squadron of international police officers running for the Veilstone building. He pushed some buttons, opening the tunnels to their secret openings and sending the reserve grunts an alert message. They flooded in through the secret exits and began combat with the now-outnumbered police officers. It seemed as though the problem was handled. Saturn returned his attention to the feed of the Spear Pillar. The lake trio had appeared, but it seemed that they were helpless to stop Cyrus.

“Excuse me,” Saturn said, turning to leave the room. The highest-ranked grunt in the room wordlessly took his place. Saturn wasn't sure what he'd do in these last moments. Maybe he'd call his family. Contact with them had been minimal in the past years as more and more of his life had to be hidden from them, but right now he just wanted contact with someone who wasn't celebrating the end of the world.

Just as Saturn had walked the length of the room and was about to leave, one of the grunts called out, "Saturn, sir, what do we do!?" Saturn turned. A shadow the shape of a centipede and the size of a building had appeared on the Spear Pillar. There was no protocol for this.

The shadow dove on top of Cyrus and disappeared into the floor below, dragging him down with it.

#pokemon #galactic boss cyrus #commander saturn #rotom #abra #gingashipping #cyrus x saturn #my fanfiction #accretion

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