worksinprogress1

[worksinprogress1]

The silence in the cave was deafening. Cyllene stepped forward. “Very well,” she said.

T e l l  m e,  h o w  d i d  i t  f e e l  t o  l o s e  y o u r  p a r e n t s?

"Telepathically?" Cyllene asked. She hadn't seen reason to think about that in ages. But as much as she didn't like how this trial was going and feared what else Mesprit might ask her to recount, Hisui needed the red chain. And if she could do it without tarnishing her image to the others, it would be for the far better.

E v e r y o n e  h e r e  w i l l  h e a r  y o u  e i t h e r  w a y.

Cyllene hesitated.

I f  y o u  c a n 't  t e l l  t h e m,  I  c a n  s h o w  t h e m.  B u t  y o u  m u s t  s h a r e  y o u r  e m o t i o n s  t o  p a s s  t h e  t r i a l.

"Show them, then."

The cave walls gave way to an illusion of a house in the countryside surrounded by farmland. The illusion of a tall, armoured man walked through the group and knocked on the door, which was opened by a nervous-looking girl of about twelve with long ice-blue hair.

"Hello? Who is this?" the girl asked.

The man shifted uncomfortably. "My name is General Kamado," he explained in a somber tone. "I've heard that your parents went missing."

The girl nodded. "They've been gone for two days. Have you seen them?"

"They were found impaled and their bodies dragged into the underbrush. Most likely a random act by Jhotoian ninjas. I'm sorry."

For a moment, the girl was in shock. And then she burst into tears and started crying into her hands. A wave of panicked distress hit Cyllene, and, if their faces and wet eyes were any indication, everyone else in the cave. Mesprit was making them all feel how she'd felt.

"Do you have any relatives that would take you in?" Kamado asked. "I'm sure there must be neighbours, at least."

The girl didn't even look up. Kamado took her in his arms and brought her in close, allowing her to bury her face in his chest.

"Come with me," Kamado said. It was something that Cyllene understood as an adult to be a more self-driven act than she'd known back then. Kamado and his wife had been unable to have children, and it would not have been difficult for him to find another place for her. Still, it had been the best thing he could have done for her. She'd needed the oasis he'd provided.

N o w  w e  w i l l  s h o w  t h e m  w h y  y o u  j o i n e d  t h e  w a r, Mesprit explained, and the scene shifted to show an only slightly older Cyllene looking out the window, the deep bags under her eyes visible even in early morning night.

Cyllene shut her eyes tight. Rei thought of her as so brave and heroic. This would change that. More importantly, it was treading far too close to things she did not want any of them to see.

A woman entered the scene and sighed. "I wish you'd at least try to sleep," she said. "I worry about Kamado not coming back, too. But he's survived every battle he's been in so far, and he's seen a few!" The woman smiled in a weak attempt to be comforting.

Cyllene turned to the woman. "How old do I have to be to help out at the camps?"

"You'd be old enough now."

"Then I want to be where he is as soon as possible."

The scene shifted to Cyllene sitting with a group of soldiers, comically small next to most of them. "Hey, wanna learn how to fight, pipsqueak?" asked a large, red-haired young woman.

"Sure," Cyllene said. Before long they were squaring off in a field, swords in hand. Metal clashed against metal, and Mesprit allowed the others to feel her excitement.

The scene shifted again to her and other soldiers in armour, marching toward a similar group of Jhotoians in a field- foot soldiers and archers to the front, with the samurai vanguard close up behind them. Thankfully, Cyllene couldn't find herself in their ranks, so it was unlikely anyone else could. But she could feel vengeful excitement in her chest, another emotion forced on her by Mesprit.

No, not this. Not in front of the clan leaders, Cyllene thought as the apparitions of archers and footsoldiers phased through their group. She didn't need them to see her as bloodthirsty.

D o  y o u  w i s h  t o  t e l l  t h i s? Mesprit asked.

Just as Mesprit finished its question, a Jhotoian samurai ran, perhaps breaking formation out of panic or suicidal impulse- pushed through the Hoennian ranks. On instinct, Cyllene drew her sword to defend from the attacker, but the apparition faded right through her and attacked instead a Hoennian soldier with a stance identical to her own. The soldier struck the sword from a Jhotoian's hand, knocked them down, and lowered their blade towards their throat. A distinctly female scream came from the armored figure, whose face was hidden by a helmet.

"Stop this. I'll say it," Cyllene asserted. The bloody battlefield faded back into a peaceful cave.

Y o u 'v e  k i l l e d  p e o p l e, Mesprit said. H o w  d i d  i t  f e e l?

Cyllene sheathed her sword before answering. "The only people I killed were enemy soldiers. It was my duty to Hoenn."

N o t  w h a t  I  a s k e d.

"It... does no good to think of that... but you leave me no choice. I expected to enjoy taking revenge on Jhoto. It caught me off guard that it was a woman. I don’t know why. I don't know how many people I killed and how many I merely wounded, but severe wounding isn't always an improvement on death. I've caused screams- men, women, boys, children so young I'm not sure whether they were girls or boys. I hated Jhoto, but I did not enjoy that. It was merely necesary."

T e l l  t h e m  h o w  i t 's  h a u n t e d  y o u, Mesprit ordered.

Cyllene closed her eyes and tried to put it into words she’d be willing to say. It was impossible. "Show them," Cyllene said. It was the only way she was going to complete this.

Cyllene turned her back and walked past the others. She could hear memories play out behind her. The first one was one in which, during peacetime, she’d thought a Jhotoian was attacking and Kamado had had to hold her down to keep her from hurting anyone. The jolt of panic that Mesprit forced through her shook her up so badly that nothing she heard registered after that. She was a trembling mess, hoping that the others didn’t look back at her. She wanted to tell them that that had been years ago, that she wasn’t like that anymore, that it had only caused her to be dangerous once. But there was only so much faith she could inspire in this state, and regardless, the damage was done. The damage was still being done. And she was too keyed up to even know what it was.

O n e  l a s t  q u e s t i o n,  a n d  i f  y o u 'r e  h o n e s t,  t h e  t r i a l  w i l l  b e  c o m p l e t e.  H o w  d o  y o u  f e e l  a b o u t  t h i s  t r i a l?

Cyllene turned back to face Mesprit, back to her steely professionalism. "This trial is an appalling waste of time and of my usefulness as a captain. The Survey Corps needs to think of me as a strong and infallible leader, and our allies need to see me as impartial and reasonable. You have helped us to save the world, but there was no reason for the cost."

Mesprit plucked out one of its plumes and handed it to Cyllene.

"Thank you," Cyllene said. Thankfully, the loathesome creature faded away after that.

"Our next location is in the Coronet Highlands. We'll travel on our flying Pokémon and stay low enough to find the rest of the Survey Corps. With any luck they will be gathered at the ruins Cogita described," Cyllene commanded the others, voice steady. She turned to exit the cave and began walking past the others, averting her eyes from whatever reactions they might have had. "You will follow me until the sky is fixed. Do what you will afterward. But do not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do not speak of it."

"Y-you got it, ma'am," Rei replied, "None of it leaves this cave!"

Outside the cave, the red sky persisted, painting the landscape in its oppressive gloom. It was all the reminder Cyllene needed that now was the time to focus on the immediate.

The flight was short, and before long the six landed in front of Cogita and around two dozen Survey Corp members.

"Ah, there you are," said Cogita. "Did you bring the keys from the lake trio?"

"Yes," Cyllene said, digging out the plume and Rei and Laventon did the same with their respective supplies.

"Perfect. While you gone, I led the Survey Corps to harvest enough origin ore to make a few pokéballs from the red chain. We discussed it and we think that would be the best use for it."

Cogita took the three items and carried them to the center of the Celestica ruins, the Survey Corps as well as the six following along to watch what was sure to be a mystical process. Once she was there, apparitions of the lake trio appeared and levitated the items from her hands. The items spun, bathed in red light, and then transformed into a beautiful chain of red gems that fell back down into Cogita's hands.

Cogita turned back to the group. "There. Now, what do you say, Survey Corps? Shall we do the crafting ourselves and allow these six a chance to rest? The lake trials couldn't have been easy. And lord knows that you have quite the challenge ahead of you."

"Thank you, Cogita, Cyllene said.

It wasn't far to the Galaxy Team's nearest encampment, where the group started a fire and put on some food. There were many noises from Pokémon as the less intelligent ones played outside their balls and the cleverer ones bayed at the foreign sky. It was loud enough to save them from attempting to make awkward conversation to distract one another from the reality of facing their allies or fellow Galaxy Team members.

While Cyllene tended the fire, Laventon sent out the strange trio of Pokémon he’d brought- the specimens he called a rotom-mow, a porygon-Z, and a bronzong.

“Alright, you three,” Laventon called out over the noise, “If you have any special world-saving powers you’d like to share with me, now would be the time! Because time really is of the essence right now, and, well, um… I’m afraid it’s been hard to figure out exactly what you do or how you work biologically, or, well, anything about you, really.”

The three Pokémon looked at each other and appeared to laugh at him before joining the other Pokémon in the encampment at their play.

Laventon sighed and sat down next to Cyllene. “Perhaps bringing them wasn’t my wisest move. But I couldn’t have forgiven myself if I found out later that they could have saved us!.”

“You have your typhlosion. That will be enough if you are separated from the group.”

"Do you want to go for a little walk, captain?"

"No," she said firmly, looking back to the fire.

"Please?"

Cyllene sighed. "Fine," she answered, getting to her feet.

Cyllene led the way into the pines, eyes forward.

"You know, you're nothing special to me," Laventon said. "Er, um, I mean, you're nothing different to me. Um, wait." Laventon sighed heavily. "What I mean, captain, is that I studied in Jhoto. My work had nothing to do with the war, but I met plenty of people who were affected by it.”

“And you can use that information to decide whatever you please once the world is saved. Until then, you follow me regardless of how it bothers you that I could have been the one to hurt some of those people.”

“That isn’t what I meant at all. You're not anything I couldn't understand. And even if you were, you've proven yourself as a leader. Nothing we saw in that cave changes that for any of us. I know them enough to be sure of that."

Cyllene stopped dead. She knew she was a good leader, both in action and appearance, both of which were extremely important. She had not known that she had allies and subordinates so loyal that such a failure in appearance wouldn't shake their loyalty. But Laventon knew how others thought. He was far better at that than she was. If that's what he saw, and if he were telling the truth, then he was probably correct.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course. We need you clear-headed for what's ahead, after all!"

Cyllene could imagine Laventon's sweet smile before she even looked back to see it.

"Laventon. You are my subordinate, and as such I wanted to keep an image to you. But, now that there are no secrets... I want you to know that I..." Cyllene closed her eyes and grit her teeth as though in pain. "I love you. If we survive this, and you feel the same way, I would like to be with you."

Laventon crossed the space between them and kissed her on the lips. Cyllene relaxed immediately and reciprocated, running a hand through his curly hair. When they separated, she was bewildered for a moment. Soon, they would be heading up the mountain, possibly to their doom. But they had this moment, and that was something worth treasuring.

[worksinprogress1]

The Survey Corps members moved aside for Laventon as he approached the pastures, each understanding that the quest of the lake guardians would take precedence. Laventon didn't have many Pokémon that were trained as anything but research subjects, but he gathered his typhlosion and beautifly nonetheless, along with some particularly mysterious specimens he hoped would come in handy. He then stuffed his backpack with healing items, food, and crafting materials and met the others at the gate. It wasn't long before the six were gathered.

"According to Cogita, the materials we need to forge the red chain can be obtained from beings in the three lakes," Cyllene reiterated once everyone was present. "Splitting up seems inadvisable until we know what exactly the trials will entail. We'll start at Lake Acuity, as it's the furthest from any route Kamado is likely to be taking. I've gathered enough flying Pokémon from the pastures to transport those of you who do not have your own. My staraptor is fit to carry two. Laventon?"

"Alright, you'll ride with me. Let us be off." Cyllene took out the staraptor and mounted it. Laventon got on behind her as the other four got onto various flying creatures themselves.

With that, the staraptor took off into the air, the other four following. Afraid of falling, Laventon grabbed onto Cyllene's waist. If she minded, there was no sign of it. Everything looked so small from the sky, and the air rushed past them as though they were going a thousand miles an hour.

In less dire circumstances, this might be very pleasant, Laventon thought. Then he took a closer look at the world below.

From the up high, the disarray caused by the bleeding sky was already apparent. Grasses were beginning to wilt and turn brown, and normally docile Pokémon were running about, agitated and confused. Worse was that in the distance, Kamado's army could be seen marching up the trails of the Coronet Highlands. Laventon looked up at the hole in the sky, two massive shining creatures seeming to peer through it, and it dawned on him that he might not live to take a recreational flight.

The group landed on the island in Lake Acuity, returned their birds, and entered the small cavern without much thought, only to be faced with a ghostly maned fox that was larger than an ursaluna.

"Is that- the vengeful fox?" Irida exclaimed, terrified. It was so much bigger than the legends had said.

Whatever it was, it charged towards the group, teeth bared.

Volo ran to the front of the group and threw out a Pokémon- a strange, ghostly thing Laventon didn't recognize. "Dark pulse," Volo ordered. The second the dark beam caught up to the charging zoroark, it went down. That was another disturbing thing about Volo- he always seemed to have just enough power to handle any given task, and no one quite knew how he'd acquired it.

In a flash of light, a small, blue figure appeared in the center of the cave. Though the creature was small, power could be felt emanating off of it in waves. Cogita had described the being with a yellow hood as being the representation of knowledge. Was this it?

R e i came a voice. It was like a horrible vibration in Laventon's skull, but somehow he could tell that it had come from the lake guardian. S t e p  f o r w a r d.  M y  t r i a l  i s  y o u r s.

Rei stepped forward.

S h o w  m e  h o w  y o u  h a v e  u s e d  y o u r  c a p a c i t y  t o  l e a r n.  I  w i l l  j u d g e  i t s  w o r t h i n e s s.

Rei hesitated, trying to work out what exactly he'd learned that might impress the being. It wasn't though he was terribly intellectual- wouldn't Laventon be a better choice for this? But he had to try.

"Well... I learned how to make a pokéball," Rei said. "I guess I could show you."

Rei knelt down and took out his crafting kit. "Basically, you just have to make something hollow. The nuts are already hollow, and I take the ores to a smith to make the top half. You just put the two parts into the seal belt, and that’s all they need to be functional,” Rei explained as he cobbled together a basic ball. “There's other stuff you can add, though. One thing that’s a really good idea is the spark release on top, so you know when a catch has been successful. Without that, you might think you’ve caught something only to have it burst out in your face when you go to pick up the ball. Aside from that, there’s different types of ore for different weights, and iron for better quality. And that's pretty much all I know."

The strange pixie twirled in the air and then lowered itself down to Rei's level, presenting him with something in its tiny hands: what looked like a fragment of claw.

T a k e  t h i s  p i e c e  o f  t h e  s p i r i t  a n d  b i n d  t h e  s k y  o n c e  m o r e.

"Is this... for the chain?" Rei asked. But before he even finished speaking, the Pokémon was lifting into the air and was already fading away- perhaps teleporting, or simply destroying what had always been a mere representation of itself controlled from elsewhere.

"Wait! I have so much to ask you! We need your knowledge to fix the sky!" Rei called out, chasing after the form. A few steps into the chase, the creature had faded entirely, and Rei stopped.

"You did well, Rei," Cyllene assured him.

"Indeed you did," Laventon added. "I'm sure it has its reasons for not granting us its knowledge."

The trip to Lake Valor was uneventful, and this time the group had a better idea of what to expect. Cyllene led the group in, on alert for a Pokémon standing guard. No sooner did she poke her head into Valor Cavern then were a barrage of poisoned quills shot at her. She scrambled out and took out her alakazam, which put up a forcefield.

"Laventon, can you identify what Pokémon these barbs are from? I didn't get a good look at the Pokémon that shot them."

Careful not to exit the safety of alakazam's forcefield, Laventon picked up a barb from the ground. He squinted as he looked at the quill, trying to place where he'd seen anything similar.

"Those are definitely from an overqwil," Adaman cut in. "Looks like a big one, too. Their only weakness is ground."

"Then I know something that might help," Irida said, taking out her Celestica flute. With a few notes, an ursaluna came running over the hill. It swam through the lake and shook itself off once it washed up on the island, soaking the six humans.

"Hey, big guy," Irida said, giving the bear a stroke on the cheek and ignoring the grime she was now coated with. "I know you're usually a finder, but would you mind fighting something for us today?"

The ursaluna grunted in acknowledgment and shuffled into the cave. After taking out a few additional psychic-types to bolster Alakazam's forcefield, the others followed in and watched as the bear charged the enormous pufferfish. The overqwil expelled its quills, but most of them bounced off the bear's thick hide as easily as they bounced off the forcefield, and those that did prick it didn't seem to bother the ursaluna in the slightest. The ursaluna roared, reared up, and took the giant fish in its mouth, shaking it around as it deflated. It threw the fish against a wall and then ran to it and slashed with its claws until it was satisfied that the job was done.

No sooner had the bear returned to Irida's side did a light begin to shine in the middle of the cave. From the light, another sprite appeared- the one Cogita had called "Azelf."

L a v e n t o n, came the spirit's voice, s t e p  f o r w a r d.  M y  t r i a l  i s  y o u r s.

Laventon glanced nervously at the others and then stepped forward.

Y o u  m u s t  c a t c h  m e, Azelf stated. A large bag of ultra balls appeared in Laventon's arms. Then, Azelf turned into a shiny zubat and flew out of the cavern.

Laventon continued to cast nervous looks at his companions. He probably seemed on the brink of panic. "This is much more suited to any of you, I mean-"

"Laventon," Cyllene said, "We will help you however we can, but Azelf wanted you. It must have its reasons. You can do this."

Rei gave a nod of agreement. "I had the same thought with my trial. If I could do mine, you can do yours." Behind Rei, the clan members were nodding as well.

“Jolly good,” Laventon said, straightening up. “Irida, I’ll need use of Ursaluna’s nose.”

"You have my blessing," Irida said.

Laventon mounted the bear. Ursaluna didn't wait for orders. As soon as Laventon was securely upon it, it took off back into the lake and began swimming across. Laventon had to pray it knew what it was doing. As the bear neared the opposite shore, Laventon looked back at his companions, following him on various flying Pokémon. Ursaluna ascended over the hills, and that's when Laventon caught sight of a glimmer of hope: to their left was a colony of zubat flying about in the shade of a forested area.

The bear took an aggressive right.

"No!" Laventon told it. "Ursaluna, you have to turn around!"

Then, Laventon saw it. A shiny stantler in the fields was looking at him with a competitive gleam in its eye.

"Oh my, Azelf has taken a new form! Ursaluna, you're a genius!"

The stantler took off at a run. It was faster than Ursaluna.

"Stop," Laventon ordered. The bear skidded to a stop. Moments later, the other five landed. "I need something swift enough to catch up to Azelf. Cyllene, may I borrow your alakazam?"

Cyllene handed him the pokéball. Wasting no time, Laventon released it and used the creature's teleportation to catch up with the stantler just as it transformed into a buizel and scurried into a thick, wooded area. The woods were too dense for a riding Pokémon, so Laventon took chase on foot. He was hardly the fastest runner, but the weasel stayed within his sights, looking back at him periodically as though to mock him. Laventon fumbled for an ultra ball, took aim at the creature as it watched him from atop a log, and then promptly tripped over a tree root.

Laventon laid in the dirt, trying to catch his breath as Azelf scampered away and his companions caught up to him, none of them half as tired as he was. He really was terrible at this, wasn't he?

G i v e  u p.  Y o u r  s t r u g g l e  i s  i n  v a i n.  R u n  f r o m  t h e  g r o u p  y o u  a r e  o n l y  a  b u r d e n  t o  s o  t h a t  a n o t h e r  m a y  s u c c e e d  i n  y o u r  p l a c e.

If it was the only way for them to pass the trial and save Hisui then perhaps that was for the best...

Cyllene offered Laventon a hand up. He took it.

"You know, individual strengths are often less important than the ability to use the strengths of others," Cyllene said. "Kamado has issued commands while injured that led the Galaxy Team to success. You are a field researcher. How have you caught slippery Pokémon in other regions?"

Laventon thought on that. "Well, there have been other species that I've had to flush out of their hidey-holes, and this isn't a big bush," Laventon mused. "If the five of you surround it with your Pokémon and move inwards, we can force Azelf out no matter what form it takes. I'll stand outside the bush, you get it to come towards me. Does that sound like a plan?"

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Cyllene said.

Laventon stood at the edge of the bush and waited as the other five and their Pokémon marched inwards. Bugs, birds, bats, rodents, and the occasional stantler were flushed out, and Laventon watched for any that showed signs of being Azelf, ultra ball at the ready. Azelf wanted to test him on willpower- on not giving up- so surely this was the correct course of action. Yes, he was sure of it.

Finally, a shiny buizel emerged from the bush, grinning at Laventon with pleased determination. Laventon hucked a ball at it. It bounced out of the way. He hucked another. It wasn't even close. Then, a number of other buizel emerged from the woods, scampering about as though Azelf had ordered them to make this trial even harder. Laventon trained his eyes on the white collar of the shiny and kept throwing.

Ten balls later, one hit. The ball shook once and then sparked.

Laventon let out a sigh of relief. Blood was coursing through him, and he felt more alive and keyed up than he could ever remember being.

The buizels dispersed, leaving behind only one- a second shiny. To Laventon's horror, the creature turned into Azelf. But then it picked up Laventon's ultra ball and handed it to him, along with a small horn.

T a k e  t h i s  p i e c e  o f  t h e  s p i r i t  a n d  b i n d  t h e  s k y  o n c e  m o r e, said the spirit before it vanished.

"That was some leadership, professor!" Rei explained.

Laventon was stunned silent. "I caught a swift and slippery little buizel all by myself," he mused. "A shiny one! My God, that was... I don't even know what that was!"

"It was a fine performance," Cyllene said.

Before long, the group was on the move again, and not long after that, they were on the island of Verity Cavern. Before heading in, the group took a moment to heal their Pokémon.

"So, if Uxie's trial was showing knowledge, and Azelf's trial was showing willpower, Mesprit's will be showing emotion? That sounds like a really lame trial," Adaman stated.

"Maybe it'll go to someone who struggles to control their emotions, and they'll have to do something frustrating," Irida suggested.

"In that case, it's definitely your trial."

"Oh, please. You're the drama queen. And anyhow, I fought overqwil, so I had my turn."

"Ursaluna isn't your Pokémon, and you didn't give it orders," Adaman countered.

"Hmph! well-"

"Now is not the time," Cyllene said, leading the group in.

Within the cave was an alpha goodra. Rei took out his decidueye, but Cyllene stepped in front of him. "Allow me," she said, taking out her staraptor. "Close-combat."

The bird struck at the armoured dragon, denting its shell, but the goodra struck back, hitting Cyllene's staraptor with its massive tail and knocking it into a nearby wall.

Cyllene gave her bird a stiff nod to let it know to continue, and took out her samourott. "Ice beam," she commanded.

Between the two attackers, the Goodra was giving out far less damage than it was receiving, but Laventon found Cyllene's choice to step in baffling nonetheless. With the amount of office work they had to do while the other members were in the fields, he and Cyllene were among the weakest of the Survey Corps when it came to their Pokémon's levels, and Rei had long surpassed them. It wasn't like Cyllene to fail to delegate when it was for the better.

Is she trying to make sure she won't have to face the trial? Laventon wondered as the Goodra finally hit the ground and Cyllene's Pokémon returned to her for healing.

Just as had happened in the previous two caves, Mesprit appeared to the six in a flash of light.

C y l l e n e, Mesprit said telepathically. M y  t r i a l  i s  y o u r s.

[worksinprogress1]

"Getting tired yet?" Crispin asked, a competitive gleam still in his eye.

"You wish," Drayton said casually, ignoring the tears stinging his eyes and the burning heat of his own breath.

"You're redder than a habanero pepper, and you're going down!" Crispin grinned and took a huge bite of the jalapeno and ghost pepper sandwich he'd made up for this bet. He'd made ten of them, and the two boys had already gone through three each. "Mmm," he Crispin, making a show of how little he was affected.

Drayton maintained lazy eye contact and stuffed another bite of his own sandwich into his burning mouth. Drayton didn't lose bets, and he wasn't about to start today- especially not with the high stakes. He swallowed as quickly as he could and started gagging on an unchewed strip of pepper that had gotten lodged in his throat.

Crispin giggled at Drayton's struggle. Then he realized Drayton was choking. He got up and started giving Drayton hard hits to the back, trying to help him out. In panic, Drayton grabbed the glass of milk on the table and downed half of it, managing to swallow the pepper.

"You okay?" Crispin asked.

"Yeah..." Drayton said, colour returning to his face.

"Well, I win!" Crispin announced, crossing his arms triumphantly.

"That doesn't count. I was choking."

"No, we shook on it- first person to give up or touch the glass of milk loses."

Drayton looked at the half-finished glass of milk and Crispin's unaffected face. He could either keep arguing with Crispin, or he could finish cooling off his mouth. Begrudgingly, he picked up the glass and downed it. "Yeah, you win," he admitted.

"And I'm not letting you off easily! You knew the rules: I lose, I have to ask Lacey out. You lose, you have to be nice to Kieran for a whole week!"

"Alright, geez. I was just trying to help you work up the nerve."

"And I appreciate it! But now, let's make up some rules for what being 'nice' means. I know you'll do the bare minimum if we don't."

"Fine. What are the rules?"

"Hmm..." Crispin put a finger to his lips and seemed to think it over. "You have to partner with him for the group project this week. And you have to invite him to sit with us at lunch. And you have to have him so convinced you're friends that he's willing to hang out with you outside of class. And no calling him ex-champion!"

"Got it. But only if after this week, you ask out Lacey. No excuses. Deal?"

"Deal. But if you don't uphold your side of the bet, I'm forcing another super-spicy sandwich down your throat, got it?"

"Sure, whatever."

-

Kieran had gotten his lunch from the cafeteria and was making his way back to his dorm room when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Kieran, come sit with us," Drayton said, giving him a winning grin.

Kieran looked back at the BB league's usual table, where Amarys and Lacey were chatting and Crispin was waving him over.

"Well... sure," Kieran replied, sounding guarded and a little confused.

Drayton walked him over to the table, where the boys ate in awkward silence as Lacey chattered over Iono's latest stream and Amarys watched it in content silence. Drayton focused on his taco salad. Sure, you could cut the awkwardness with a knife, but it wasn't his responsibility to fix it. If Crispin wanted to change the situation he'd created, he could go on ahead.

Tired of waiting, Crispin kicked Drayton's leg to get him moving. Drayton turned his eyes to Kieran. "Hey. We start a group project in terrarium class tomorrow. Wanna be partners?"

"Wha- uh, sure."

"Hey, you're the only one here who's in that class with me. Might as well do it with a friend, right?"

Kieran seemed taken aback. "Friends? Wowzers... I-I knew you guys had forgiven me, but I didn't know you'd be willing to be friends..."

It almost made Drayton feel guilty. Thankfully, as Drayton tried to figure out a response, Amarys took interest in the new face at their table.

“Kieran. I’ve been looking to test some supplements on a synthetic Pokémon. Would your porygon-Z be up to the task.”

“Sure!.”

“Thank you. Allow me to tell you the potential side effects,” Amarys continued, pulling out a notepad covered in small, neat text.

With a list like that, Drayton could enjoy the rest of his lunch period free from bet-related obligations. Thanks, Amarys. You really came in clutch, he thought.

-

The next morning, Kieran realized that partnering with the guy that never showed up to class might not have been his brightest move. Kieran checked his watch again as he leaned against the wall of the outdoor classroom. It was 9:30- thirty minutes from when the class had started and twenty minutes from when the other students had started on their assignments. Seeing the other students running around the lush environments battling and tossing their balls made Kieran downright twitchy. Maybe Drayton wasn’t going to show up and he should do this on his own. Maybe that had been Drayton's plan from the beginning.

Just as Kieran had left the classroom to get started on the project, he caught sight of Drayton and ran to him. "There you are. I thought I was gonna have to do this whole project by myself," Kieran snapped. "The assignment is to catch one Pokémon of each type and write a few sentences on why it's an exemplar of its type. Come on, let's go- the class is already halfway over." With that, Kieran turned his attention to the fields, looking around anxiously for his first catch.

"Relax," Drayton said. "Eighteen Pokémon in four eighty-minute classes isn't that much. Let's just take it easy and see what we can find, okay?"

"Oh. O-okay," Kieran replied, back turned. "S-sorry. I guess I'm not making the best new impression on you, huh?" All that nervous, angry energy probably reminded Drayton of Kieran's reign as champion. Not exactly what Kieran wanted now that Drayton was finally giving him a chance.

"Nope," Drayton stated. Drayton walked past Kieran, and Kieran followed along at his side in silence. After not too long, they passed a herd of executor. Drayton threw a quick ball at one of them as they passed, causing the others to take notice and shuffle away from the two humans. The quick ball shook three times, then clicked shut. "There's grass done," Drayton said, picking up the pokéball.

"...I don't know if that's a good representative," Kieran said after a little hesitation.

"Why? It's a tree. Can't get any more grass than that."

"I don't think that kind of logic will get us a good grade. Let's keep looking."

"Fine. What do you think our grass-type should be?"

"Follow me," Kieran proposed, taking off at a jog. Drayton ran after him. Not long after, Kieran slowed down and knelt at the outside of a forested area. It was time to show Drayton that he'd learned a few nice things about the terrarium and about Pokémon.

Inside the bush was a pond with dozens of bulbasaurs wading and sunning themselves on the rocks in the dappled light. Kieran carefully, quietly entered the bush and picked up one of the specimens on the rocks.

"I think this is the one," Kieran said as he stepped back into the sunlight, the bulbasaur held in both his hands. "Grass-types are super docile, even ones with other types that tend not to be. That can be our reasoning."

Drayton smiled as he looked down at the bright-eyed little frog. "Makes sense. I guess you would know, 'cause of your hydrapple."

"Yeah. And my shiftry back in Kitakami. It’s a dark-type. With grass, you can have an easy-to-train dragon, a kind dark-type, and even a nurturing poison-type. But they're not just softies, either. With a secondary type, they can be super strong and nasty, too! That’s why they’re my favourites.”

"Huh. Guess there’s a lot more to them than meets the eye. So, what type do you want to tackle next?"

"Hmm... dragon? We both like dragons. And you can choose the species this time."

"Sure. Let’s go catch something fierce.”

"Sounds good. I'm glad you came around to me."

By the end of the period, the two boys had caught a flygon, and a rhyhorn for ground type as well, leaving them only a little behind the expected pace. Drayton even promised to show up on time the next day. Maybe, Kieran thought, this really isn't some kind of trick.

-

The next day after class, Drayton asked Kieran to hang out. It was one of the requirements of the bet, after all. Drayton suggested they play some games in Kieran's dorm room. It would save him the work of cleaning his own room or having to pay for an outing. It was a sound plan, but once Drayton actually got there, well, he thanked Arceus that there was no requirement on how long they had to hang out. Kieran's game system was hilariously outdated, practically older than they were, and beside it was a stack of E-rated titles. Considering that Kieran's guardians didn't even allow him a phone, Drayton supposed he should have guessed.

"That's what we'll be playing?" Drayton asked, not bothering to hide the snideness in his voice.

Kieran looked away and played with a strand of his hair. "I know it's not exactly an impressive set-up. But a friend made a game for me that's pretty fun. Wanna try it?"

"Wait, made for you?"

"Yeah. Her name is Penny. She's a long-distance friend from Paldea, and she's like, super tech-savvy. I told her that this racing game reminded me of a carnival game from my hometown, and, well, she used some photos and tech wizardry to work her magic. It's nothing I understand, but it's pretty cool."

"Dang. Yeah, let's see."

Kieran popped the cartridge into the device and booted it up. The game was a simple race car type of deal that had been altered to make collecting items the objective instead of finishing first. The photos of balloon characters clashed horribly with the cartoonish style of the game, but hey, it was more than Drayton could have done.

Kieran set up a round for them. To none of Drayton's surprise, Kieran was great- almost good enough to keep up with him. He'd pegged Kieran as the type to have spent way too much of his time indoors in front of screens. By the way he was leaning forward in intense determination, he was competitive, too.

The round consisted of three laps. By lap two, Drayton had figured out the system- pop as many balloons as possible and deliver as many berries as you could. They didn't have to be the right ones and there was no benefit to being a team player. He'd lost points thinking there was, but maybe he could catch up.

At the end of the three laps, the points tallied up. They'd tied.

"Wowzers. You're good. And this is your first time! I wasn't expecting that." Kieran looked away, smiling awkwardly. "No offense."

"Well, I had to do something with my time in Unova, so I got pretty good.”

"Huh. I kind of figured that you were like, super popular and always going out, or something."

"Yeah, when I wasn't grounded."

Kieran laughed. "I thought being the grandson of a gym leader would be cool."

"You'd think. Anyhow, after we're done this, let's go to my room and I'll show you what actual video games are like."

"Sure! Can't wait."

The conversation died down as the two focused on a second round.

"Say... since you're so good at this... maybe you could join me for the festival? My grandparents said I could have someone over for it next year."

"Sure," Drayton said absentmindedly as he mashed buttons.

Kieran's face lit up like fireworks. "Oh my gosh, I've never had a friend to invite for this before! Uh, I mean, they've never been able to make it. Don't bail out on me for this, got it?"

It was only then that Drayton realized that he'd agreed to something way outside the requirements of the bet. But whatever. Drayton would find a way to let Kieran down gently later. Probably. He'd see- a festival could be fun and Kieran’s company hadn’t been the worst thing in the world. And there was one promise he would keep tonight, even if it meant leading Kieran into his disaster-zone of a room.

“Ready to play some real games now?”

“You bet.”

-

Friday's lunch hour had finally arrived, and it was time for Crispin to uphold his part of the bet. He and Drayton were sitting at their usual cafeteria table, waiting for the others. Crispin was fidgeting with the buttons on his chef coat, uncharacteristically quiet.

"You know the rules," Drayton reminded him. "No wriggling out this time.”

Crispin nodded. "Well, at least Amarys is on that study date with Carmine, so there'll be less of an audience... Though I guess Kieran will be there since he sits with us every day now... so it's not really better at all, actually."

There was a pause before Crispin turned to Drayton with a competitive gleam in his eye. "Wait. Part of the deal was you had to hang out with Kieran outside of school. Did you?"

"Yup."

"Then prove it!"

"Matter of fact, I can," Dayton said, digging out the cartridge for Ogre Ousting out of his bag and slapping it down on the table. Unbeknowest to the two boys, Lacey and Kieran were approaching them from behind. "Kieran lent me this because he wants us to do the real thing together this Spring when he invites me over for his hometown's little festival. He’s that convinced that we’re friends."

“Wait. You agreed to go to his hometown? It’s starting to sound like you actually like him,” Crispin said, grinning.

Drayton flushed. “No, no, I only said yes to that because I kind of pitied him, ‘kay? I’m gonna find a way to let him down gently. Look, I did everything we agreed on for the bet. Now you gotta take your lumps for yours.”

Lacey dropped her lunch tray on the table, getting the boys’ attention. "You did what for a bet?" she all but yelled. "Manipulating someone into thinking they're your friend? That's not right!" Lacey crossed her arms over herself in her trademark X as she stared daggers at the boys.

“I- I- we didn’t mean to hurt anybody!” Crispin protested. “It was just a punishment for Drayton! He wasn’t supposed to find out!”

“And I just wanted to give this fool the courage to ask you out,” Drayton added. That defence sounded weak to him before he even turned to Kieran, who was holding back tears and looking at Drayton in shocked betrayal.

"Guess I… I guess should've figured..." Kieran managed. Then he turned away and ran.

"Look what you did!" Lacey scolded. "He was finally comfortable enough to hang out with us, and now he probably thinks that me and Amarys are fake friends with him, too. Go apologize right now! And tell him he's still welcome to sit with us."

"Um, okay, but first, for the bet, I have to-” Crispin muttered.

"You’re still talking about the bet? The answer's no until you apologize to Kieran and ask me out properly! Going out after you needed catch someone in the crossfires to just to ask? It's just not-"

Drayton didn't have to be told twice. He got up and ran after Kieran before Lacey could finish her catchphrase and Crispin could respond with, "Wait, so it's yes once I do?"

Kieran was already out of sight, so Drayton started by looking in the most obvious place: Kieran's dorm room.

Drayton stopped in front of Kieran's door and considered his options. He could just go back and tell the others he'd apologized. Kieran was a grudge-holder, so there was a good chance that the others would believe that Kieran was avoiding them in spite of an apology. But Drayton didn't want that. He took a deep breath and raised his fist to knock on the door.

The door opened violently before Drayton had even put his fist down. "What?" Kieran snapped, fists curled as he looked defiantly at Drayton. His puffy-from-crying eyes made the whole thing a whole lot less intimidating, and a boy three years younger and a foot shorter than Drayton wasn't all that scary to him to begin with.

"Hey. I'm sorry about the bet," Drayton started.

Kieran wiped away fresh tears. "Was Amarys in on it? I mean, Lacey wasn't, obviously..."

"It was just me and Crispin. And Crispin doesn't hate you, either. He just thought that being nice to you would be a punishment for me. That’s it.”

“Do you actually pity me that much?”

“If I did, would I have called you ‘ex-champion’ half a million times while your wounds were still fresh? No. I’m actually pretty jealous of you.”

Kieran looked at Drayton like he’d grown a second head. "You're jealous of me?"

"Well... yeah." Drayton took a big breath. "I'm a lazy screw-up. Everyone knows that. And I figure it's just my place, right? It's who I am. But then you come along and go from a nobody to the best trainer in the school in a semester. Yeah, you were killing yourself to do it, but it made me think... if I worked like that, no one would think of me as the lazy screw-up."

"Oh. I didn't know. I'm, uh, sorry about that." Kieran paused. "I'm jealous of you, too."

It didn't surprise Drayton at all that he was on the list of people an awkward, fragile boy with jealousy issues was jealous of, so he opted not to say anything and let Kieran keep talking.

"You don't have to even try to seem like you’re good enough. You just act like you are and you don’t need to do anything to feel like you deserve to. I wish I were like that."

“Heh. Yeah. Anyhow, I shouldn’t have used you for that stupid bet. It was wrong. Can you give me a chance to be your friend, for real this time? I actually do want to come with you to the festival, if you’ll still let me.”

“Well… if you actually want to…” Kieran looked away and played with his hair as he seemed to consider that. “Yeah. Let’s be friends.”

[worksinprogress1]

The further Volo travelled into Turnback Cave, the more sure he was that this was the place he'd been seeking. The tome he'd bought off a merchant from his homeland had described a cave in which the physical realm came dangerously close to the realm beyond. This cave certainly felt otherworldly with the way the rocks and earth shimmered and the dry ground yielded slightly too much under his feet, and how much bigger it seemed on the inside than the outside. And both the Celestica runes he'd investigated and the local folks had told him of the labyrinth within that had earned the cave its name. When one found themselves in Turnback Cave, the only way to survive was to turn back immediately.

Volo's growlithe barrelled towards him and rubbed against his legs, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes in hopes of getting fed, or at least getting a treat for keeping the wild zubats and geodudes at bay. "Sorry, little guy," Volo said, "I don't have anything to give you."

They'd been in this cave for three days, and Volo's supply of food had run out yesterday. He was in so deep that turning back had left him just as lost. Maybe he should have heeded the warnings of the clan members when they'd told him to turn back. Maybe he was about to become one of the many lorekeepers who'd died here. But there was one thing left that he was willing to try.

"Giratina?" Volo called out, "I've come seeking you out. I want to make a deal."

A rumble sounded from within the cave, followed by a deep voice that Volo could hear within his head. Tell me your intent, the voice demanded.

Volo waved around his lantern, but the tunnel seemed empty. "Well, I want to meet Arceus," Volo explained. "I want to know why the world is as unfair as it is, and if there isn't a good reason for it, I want to overthrow Arceus and fix it. I heard that Arceus locked you away for a very long time, so I thought you might understand. You do understand, don't you?"

Hmm... came the voice. Then there was a pause that to Volo seemed to last an eternity.

Suddenly, a tunnel opened up before Volo, perpendicular to the one he'd been hiking down.

Come, said Giratina.

Volo started down the path at a jog, his growlithe running ahead of him. The further he went down the tunnel, the more the rocks shimmered as though covered in a plasma veil, and the more the ground gave beneath his feet.

The tunnel then opened up to a room with a high ceiling and a sight Volo would never forget. Against the far wall and behind what looked like a purple force field, an enormous snake-like creature floated a few feet above the ground. A golden crown making up its face, the grey and red snake-like being was decorated with golden rings of armour. Black tendrils of shadow stretched from its back, each tipped with a blood-red claw. It didn't look exactly like the creature Volo had seen depicted in ruined temples, but was similar enough that there was no mistaking it. And its beady red eyes were focused on him.

Volo dropped to one knee before the creature. "Giratina. At last we meet. I've come seeking your service. I'd like to collect the eighteen plates of life so that I can converse with Arceus, and if you would help, I would be eternally grateful."

You need not kneel, Giratina said. I do not seek worship. It seems as though we are natural allies. I doubt that you will find the answers you seek in Arceus, but I will gladly help you reach It if it means I may have a chance to dethrone It. However, there is something I need help with first.

Volo rose to his feet. "And what would that be?"

As you have heard, I was banished to this realm. You must help me to escape it. There is a golden rock in this room- the griseous core. Pick it up.

Volo peered around, found a jagged golden rock, picked it up, and looked to Giratina for further instruction.

Now, you must touch me, Giratina ordered, putting his shadowy tentacle against the barrier.

“Will do,” Volo replied. He returned his growlithe and set down his pokéballs- no need for his Pokémon to get hurt if this turned out to be a grievous mistake. Then, he took a deep breath and touched the barrier.

The barrier felt like several inches of thick wax, but with effort, Volo forced his hand through it. He grabbed onto Giratina's claw and was pulled through with ease.

Volo regained his footing. Now that he was past the barrier, he could see the environment in which Giratina dwelled- a strange world of endless purple skies, floating islands with strange geometries, and no life as far as the eye could see save for some bare trees and sickly flowers. "Woah," Volo said. "So this is the place you've been spending the past few centuries, huh? It hardly looks like a pleasant place to spend such a long time.."

Not centuries. Millennia, Giratina corrected. But I would guess that you're much the same. Of all people I expected here, a Celestica was not one of them. Has Arceus wronged you as well?

"It certainly seems so. I'm one of the last Celesticas."

One of the last? Giratina straightened up in surprise. When I was sealed away, they were thriving. They were Arceus' chosen.

"Yes. Apparently not anymore." Volo laughed bitterly.

Ha. Then we do have something in common. I am Arceus' child, and yet he treats me worse than he treats his creations. No matter how many times I try to apologize, it's as though he doesn't hear.

"And I keep doing what the old faith tells me to, but it hasn't gotten me anywhere. It's as though he forgot all about us."

Sometimes, I wonder if he has. But your plan to gather the plates... that will work. I am sure of it. At any rate, the task at hand...

Giratina touched the griseous core with one of its tendrils, but nothing happened.

Hmm… it seems that Arceus put a seal on the stone as well. That is... unfortunate.

Giratina paused for a moment as it seemed to consider its options. Then its eyes fell upon Volo.

Would you do anything for your goal? Giratina asked coolly.

Volo met Giratina's eyes nervously, not knowing what to expect. But he'd come so far, and he had so little to return to. "Yes, of course, anything," he said.

Very well, Giratina said. Then, it touched Volo between his mouth and nose with one of its tendrils. The frigid smoke-like substance began to seep into Volo's nostrils, and then within seconds Giratina turned to smoke and entered Volo through his nose, mouth, eyes, ears, and pores, overwhelming him until he was knocked flat on the ground, spasming from the sheer amount of power and substance his body had been made to absorb. He felt simultaneously like he was being frozen from the inside and as though his body might explode like a burlap sack stuffed with too much cargo.

Go to the physical world, Giratina instructed.

Volo tried to think past the pain and understand what that meant.

Your world, the other side of the barrier! Giratina explained urgently.

Volo rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered to the barrier. It was harder coming through this time, as though the wax had thickened. As he permeated the outer barrier, he felt something begin to shatter around him- like a thin sheet of ice.

Evidently, Giratina had felt it, too. Yes, YES! the creature roared, a vibration that Volo could feel from within.

Once on the other side of the barrier, Volo dropped to his hands and knees. The griseous core he'd been holding tumbled onto the ground beside him.

Giratina tore out of Volo's body through his eye and touched the griseous orb in the corner, brushing away the damaged barrier with ease before he'd even come out of its origin form, halting the process. Another touch allowed it to transform him into his worldly, altered form. Oh, yes! It worked! Giratina roared, dropping onto its new legs. The barrier is broken! My thanks, Hu-

It was then that Giratina looked back at Volo and saw the sorry state he was in. He was nearly unconscious and laying on his side, groaning as he held a blood-stained hand over his left eye. Volo pulled his hand away for a moment and saw that it was covered not just in blood, but a jelly-like substance that moments before had been contained in his eyeball. And he screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

"What did you do!?" Volo shouted, rising to his knees and looking up at the diety with terror.

Giratina struggled to find words. It knew what had happened: in its rush to see if the barrier was broken, he'd put too much pressure on a small, delicate part of Volo's body, and this had been the result.

I... I was reckless. The barrier is broken, so we will not have to do that ever again. Please, let me help you, human, Giratina replied.

Volo tried to rise to his feet, but stumbled. "Go ahead," he said weakly, probably feeling as though he had no other choice.

With its beak-like mouth, it picked up Volo by his backpack and placed him on its back. It opened up a path straight to the outside, gently flew out, and plucked a branch full of sitrus berries from a nearby tree. It craned his neck back to hand Volo the berries.

It is these that heal you, right?

Volo opened his eyelids weakly. Giratina hung its head when it saw again the bloody mess it had caused.

"Yes, that's the healing stuff," Volo said, putting some enthusiasm into his tired voice. He picked two of the sitrus berries and ate them, juice running down his face. Giratina put down the branch and took a bite of the sitrus tree as well.

Mmm... not bad! Much tastier than antimatter. Are there any other berries in this area?

Volo slid off of Giratina's back, looking haunted but a little more energetic now.

"Indeed there is," he said, surprisingly calmly given the situation. "You don't know much about this world, do you? Well, I'll just have to show you, then. But... not right now. Going through that barrier tuckered me right out. Can you make sure that no one disturbs us?"

Yes, Giratina said. I will make sure no one comes near enough to see us.

"Thanks."

Giratina laid down in the shade of the trees and watched as Volo dug through his backpack, took out some bandages, and wrapped them around his head to cover his bleeding eye. When Volo was done, he laid against Giratina's side, intending to fall asleep. Giratina wrapped in his head and tail and prepared to do the same.

I'm sorry about your eye.

Volo was quiet for a long time before he responded, but he kept a casual tone when he did. "It's quite alright. I didn't expect that the help of a deity would come cheap. And once we meet Arceus, I'm sure that restoring an eye will be the least It can do."

Ha. Can, perhaps, but will It? That I doubt.

"In that case, once we enslave It and use Its powers to recreate the world, making a new eye will be the least of our concerns."

Now that, I can see.

[worksinprogress1]

Henry was woken from his nocturnal sleep schedule by the ringing of the phone. The call was from a familiar number that Henry had not received a call from in years: that of his brother, George. Henry ignored it and shuffled back to bed. The call didn't surprise him considering the way he'd acted at a family get-together just a few days ago, an event he certainly didn't want to think about. It also didn't surprise him that he'd stopped calling him for a couple years before this. He'd isolated himself and avoided contact after Charlie's death, unwilling or unable to handle anything but the machines he understood so well. Even going to the get-together had been abnormal for him, and as it turned out, a mistake.

There was a call the next day. And on the third, there was a message left on the answering machine.

“Hey, Henry. This is George. Connor and I are coming over today. We need to talk to you, and this is the last day before we go home. We wanted to give you more notice, but you kept ignoring our calls. We’ll be there at 1:30."

Henry sighed and dragged himself out of bed. His digital clock, the only light in the room, read 10:30 in bright red numbers. Unfortunately, that meant that his chances of getting his house in order were slim to none.

After a shower, Henry’s first order of business was to clear away all the creepy robot and machinery parts from the floor and into the closets, leaving oily smears on the carpet and hardwood where they had been. He removed the sheets of wood from the windows and picked up the pizza boxes and beer bottles on the floor, moving fairly quickly on it considering that he would normally be asleep this time of day and for hours after.

After an over an hour's work, Henry collected a six-pack of beer from the fridge and collapsed onto his couch. The scent of oil, metal, alcohol and stale food was still in the air. Dust, grit, and smears of grease still covered the floors and counters, more than he could clean in- Henry checked the clock- he still had an hour. He didn’t have it in him to get up.

An hour later, there was a knock on the door. He got up and opened the door for his twin brothers. George was carrying a gift basket with Henry’s favourite candy from childhood in it.

“Come on in,” Henry said. He tried not the pay attention to George’s obvious disdain for the house’s state, or how Connor was watching the floor to make sure he didn’t step in any particularly oily areas as they walked to the living room. Once they got there, the brothers sat down on the couch, and George gestured for Henry to do the same. Awkwardly, Henry obeyed.

George sighed heavily. “We’re really worried about you, Henry. I know that Charlie dying was really hard on you, but it's been five years. We never see you anymore, and neither does your ex-wife or Sammy. You know, up until last year, Sammy was asking every time he saw me whether you’d be up to visiting soon. And this year he stopped. He gave up.”

Henry looked away and slugged down more beer.

“Will you listen?!” Connor snapped. “We're trying to help you!”

Henry ignored him. Henry did know about Sammy. Sammy’s ignoring of him is what had driven him to drink so heavily at the Christmas gathering in the first place. He still wondered whether Sammy simply hadn’t recognized him in his degraded state, or if he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. He didn't want to think about it.

“We think it would be best for you move in with me in Colorado," Connor said firmly. “Staying here can’t possibly be doing you any good. Are you still working?"

"Yes. Same job as before, just from home now."

"We’ll get you set up to work doing something other than holing up at home making robots for the restaurant your daughter died right outside, get you into therapy, and whatever else you need. I’ll even keep booze out of the house if need be. But we don't want to see you like this.”

"No."

"Why?" George asked.

Henry thought about how to respond. It was hard to explain, but he was used to his life. Machines, numbing alcohol, and William were his comfort zone, and he felt so delicate that anything else might break him.

George touched his hand. “You know, it would be amazing to see you happy again. You get along so well with kids. I want my kids to be able to meet the person I knew.”

“I’ll do it,” Henry said quickly. His voice lacked conviction, but it seemed like his brothers were willing to take it.

“Great. I’ll get you a plane ticket. And I want you to send your two weeks’ notice now, right in front of me, alright? I don’t want these to be empty words.”

---

When William first received Henry's resignation letter, he was rather unnerved. What could have caused Henry to want this? He visited Henry’s house the next day. He knew that Henry would most likely be asleep at 11 AM, so it would probably give him a chance to look around for any clues of what had caused Henry’s sudden change of heart. If Henry was awake, he would say that he was here to pick up the Foxy bot that William had sent him to repair. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d come in uninvited for such reasons, and though the deadline he’d given Henry for it was tomorrow, Henry would very easily believe he’d mixed up the days. He’d both done so before and believed William lying about it before.

William used Henry’s spare key, which he’d known for years now was located under his mat, and opened the door.

The first thing that William noticed was that Henry’s house was remarkably tidy compared to usual. That was strange- it happened every now and then in the first couple years of Henry’s grief, but this had to be the first time it had happened in years.

With everything clear of its usual trash, it was very easy for William to find the one-way plane ticket to Colorado on the table. Henry’s brothers were from Colorado. So that was it. Henry’s brothers had given him an intervention. That meant that Henry might very well slip from his grasp, but William wasn't going to give him up that easily. He swiped the plane ticket and left. Henry could easily call the airport and ask for another one to be printed, but that relied on Henry noticing and remembering to, and having the conviction to go through a little extra inconvenience. It wasn't much, but thankfully it was only the beginning of what William could do to prevent this.

That evening, William gave Henry a call.

“Hey, buddy,” he started off. “I got your email. I was hoping I could come over and we could talk about it. Have a little send-off for our partnership.”

“I'd like that,” Henry said. “I want you to know that it’s nothing against you. I just need a change in scenery. That’s all.”

“Of course. You did good work for us. I’d be willing to be your reference if you want. Anyhow, does now work to come over?”

“Sure does.”

“I’ll be right there.”

William showed up with a six pack of beer and two bottles of Henry's favourite whisky in a bag by his side. Henry looked a little more perked up than usual when he greeted William at the door.

“Hey,” William said to Henry, flashing a sad smile.

“Hey,” Henry returned.

The two made their way into Henry’s living room.

“So. Ten years of building robots together. And they were good ones," Henry said, sitting down in a plush chair.

"And four years before that in college," William said, sitting nearby him on the couch. "Wow, we've really only been apart for a few years in our entire adulthood."

"Yeah."

"So... what changed?"

"Connor wants me to move in with him in Colorado and help me to get my life together. It's... well, I guess I can't live like this forever."

William nodded in understanding. “I thought you had a system that worked here. But if you're unhappy with how things are, I get it. I just hope you’ll be okay out there. I mean, you’ve barely left the house in years. This is a big jump. I guess I should be proud of you.”

“Thanks. I’m a little proud of me.”

“You should be. I mean, you’re going to have to get a job where you deal with people again. There won’t be any easing into it- you’ll have to deal with people and do well at it or you’ll get fired. And there won't be any more leeway if you mess the days up.”

Henry visibly tensed a little. William handed him a beer, which Henry opened and sipped heavily from. Then, William continued. “I remember how you were in college. I sure hope you haven’t become that person again over these years stuck in your house.”

Henry put the beer can back on the table and gripped it nervously. “I suppose I really do owe you for letting me work from home.”

“It was my pleasure as your friend. It’s a shame that you won’t be making any more of these animatronics that Charlie loved so much. Do you feel like you were doing it in her memory?"

"Yes," Henry admitted. William knew he would. He'd said as much before while drunk.

The two men spent the night drinking and reminiscing. William had already planted the seeds he could, so for the most part, it was a relaxed chat for him. Towards the end of their conversation, William assigned Henry to a heavier-than-usual workload for his last two weeks, and he insisted on leaving the rest of the whisky behind. Both would lower Henry's chances of ordering that new plane ticket.

A few days later, William was at home watching football when he received a call from a worried and intoxicated Henry Emily asking if he could still call William after he moved and if he would rehire him if need be.

"I don't know, Henry. I mean, I can't hold a position open for you while you get your mental health sorted out. And you could call, but I won't have the context of your problems like I do now. You'd be better off talking to your brothers. You've been keeping good touch with them, right? Connor is an understanding man."

The next question Henry asked was even juicier: whether Charlie would forgive him if he stopped making animatronics.

"I'm sure that if Charlie is still around, she loves every animatronic we make," William said, smirking as he laid back on the couch and thought of the puppet's reaction every time a new animatronic became possessed. "Why? Are you having second thoughts about leaving?"

There was a long pause. And then Henry said that he'd think about it.

"Alright, well, keep me posted. I can always cancel your resignation," William said before hanging up.

It was another week before William received a call from Henry asking to cancel his two weeks' notice. And a week after that, William found himself at Henry's doorstep, holding an animatronic head in need of repairs.

Henry opened the door for him. He seemed more glum than usual.

"Henry. Something wrong, buddy?"

"Sort of. I never told my brothers that I changed my mind. I don't know how I'm going to speak to them again, to be honest."

"Oh. Well, let's talk about it," William said, moving inside. Trash was beginning to pile in Henry's house again, including the now-empty bottles of whisky that William had gifted him.

They did talk about it. And most likely, it would be the last time Henry would ever mention his brothers. He'd go right back to where he'd been a month ago: a good worker, numbed with alcohol and with no need to think about his pains, let alone bother William with them. Really, he was doing Henry a favour. It's not like he had it in him to get his life together. William was giving him the best life he could have.

[worksinprogress1]

“Now!” Cyllene shouted, taking out the tangrowth she’d borrowed for the purpose the mission. Two Survey Corps members at her side did the same, taking out their respective grass-types, and if the three vines coming their way were any indication, so were three other members on the other side of the beast. Cyllene and the other two members caught the vines and pulled down hard, pressing the vines down on avalugg. It lost its footing and fell onto the icy ground with a boom. The remaining six Survey Corps members threw balms as the grass-types sent out their various attacks.

Before long, however, Cyllene felt the vine moving as the beast pressed against the ground and stood again. Now the vine-minders were the ones losing their footing, slipping on the ice. Avalugg shot out great icicles. Cyllene dropped the vine to shield her face. She heard the sound of ice shattering inches before her. She opened her eyes. Her alakazam had come out and put up a light screen just in time to save her.

“Phase two!” Rei called out, taking out his gallade. The other corps members did the same with their own barrier-users, together creating a barrier that could withstand the avalugg’s icy attacks. Balms were thrown ferociously. One trainer took out a hippowdon to create sand for better footgrip on the ice.

Finally, the barrier broke. They’d planned for this. “Phase three!” Cyllene called out. Rei released his Decidueye and ran in front of the Avalugg. The decidueye attacked the monster’s face with its talons, forcing its attention away from the corps members as they continued to throw balms and their grass-types asssisted the assault. Avalugg threw out icicles, which were blocked by psychic types. Finally, the golden glow left the beast.

Irida, Adaman, and Laventon entered the arena as the Survey Corps regrouped, along with their honorary member, Volo. Volo stretched out his hand as Lord Avalugg approached the Survey Corps, but it went right past him, giving the icicle plate to another member of it.

Laventon chuckled as Volo scowled in displeasure. “Better luck next time, my friend!” he said. “Let’s take a look at the plate together once we’re back in Galaxy Hall.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Irida reminded him. “That’s the last noble Pokémon.”

“Maybe now the sky will finally be fixed, like Kamado said,” Adaman added.

The Survey Corps was in high spirits as they marched home- so much so that when Laventon looked back and saw the hole in the sky crack and widen, he didn’t say a word.

It was as the group passed through the gates of Jubilife Village that there was an ear-splitting crack followed by a carpet of red billowing out from the void over the coronet highlands and darkening the sky from horizon to horizon. The Survey Corps members looked to Cyllene in their panic, hoping for answers. In turn, she looked to Laventon, hoping he knew something she didn’t, and Laventon looked to the clan leaders for the same reason. Without anyone breathing a word, it became apparent that no one knew what was going on.

“What does this mean?” Rei asked. "Will we be able to live like this?"

“I don’t know,” Cyllene answered. She wasn’t sure whether this darkness would be enough to wither plantlife, but it was a bad omen regardless. “We will find a way to fix it.”

“Laventon,” came the grave voice of Kamado. In the group's distracted confusion, Cyllene hadn't heard him approach. “Report to my office immediately.”

Laventon gulped. “Y-yes, sir!” he said. Kamado turned towards Galaxy Hall, and the two began to walk.

Cyllene followed, and Rei and the clan leaders followed behind her. There was something in Kamado’s voice, combined with his tendency toward rash decisions, that told her that she would want to be present for whatever he chose to do next. Most likely she would be unable to stop it, but she knew Kamado well and would use that to manage whatever he did the best she could.

The group arrived in Kamado’s office, where he took a seat behind his desk and, a harsh glare on his face, gestured for Laventon to sit across from him.

“This void in the sky opened up not long after you arrived,” Kamado stated.

“Yes…” Laventon admitted, trying to hold Kamado’s gaze and hold onto his dignity.

“And with it came Pokémon turning berserk. You’re from Galar. And you’ve come here seeking glory. Hisui isn't home to you like it is for us.”

“Well, yes-”

“It is very convenient that you knew how to calm the nobles.”

“It was pure luck and experimentation on my part! Nothing more.”

“You’ve recorded a number of oversized Pokémon while you were here, in a addition to the raging nobles. And you photographed as much of every enraged noble encounter as you could.”

“Th- that doesn’t- sir, the alphas were merely undiscovered before I- I- we- the clans already knew about them.”

Kamado stood, eyes closed. “I’ve been to Galar. Galar has a method of turning Pokémon enormous and aggressive called dynamaxing. It involves energy much like we've seen emanating from the sky. And if you recreated the dynamax phenomenon here, it would give you the glory you seek. ” Kamado focused his glare on the stuttering Laventon. “There is good reason to believe that you are the cause of this mess. Professor Laventon, you are hereby banished until you can prove your innocence beyond doubt. No- until you have undone the breaking of the sky.”

Everyone in the room was aghast.

“But he’s helped us so much!” Irida insisted.

“And we’ve always had alpha Pokémon. They have nothing to do with him!” Adaman shouted.

“Sir, you can’t be serious,” Rei said.

Only Cyllene remained silent and stoic. It was clear that Kamado would not budge on the matter. It was best to feign obedience if she was to help as much as she could. “Orders are orders,” she stated, drawing looks that one would give if she’d kicked an eevee. Laventon looked at her like the eevee who’d been kicked. It hurt. She forced herself to focus on Kamado. “Hiring Laventon was my decision. It is only right that I should personally escort him from the village and to the Fieldlands Camp.”

Cyllene led Laventon to his quarters and kept watch of him as he packed his bag. By the time he was ready to leave, the whole village had gathered outside to witness his banishment. Some were horrified, speaking of how kind and sociable Laventon had been. Others were showing their xenophobic colours. Most, however, were holding their tongues in fear of Kamado's ire.

“You can’t be doing this,” Laventon said, his voice thick with tears. Cyllene ignored him as he took him through the gates. It was only once she reached the Fieldlands Camp, which was thankfully empty, that she stopped and looked him in the eyes.

“It will be my duty to prevent other Survey Corps members from helping you openly, lest Kamado exiles them as well,” she stated. “However, there are others. You've been an aid to both the Diamond Clan and the Pearl Clan. Don't die alone out there. That's an order. I will ensure you have all you need to complete the survey the commander has tasked you with.”

“Captain- I thought we were friends…”

“We are. This is all I can do. If I might offer my advice: in this life, you will meet with both admiration and abuse from others. How others choose to view you is a choice only they can make. You cannot make it for them. All that truly matters is that you hold firm to your own values."

With that, Cyllene turned. Laventon watched her walk away. With nowhere to go, Laventon began to make his way to the Grandtree Arena to meet up with a member of the Pearl Clan. When he met up up with Warden Lian, he was turned away. The Pearl Clan were too afraid of Kamado retaliating to help his exile. He ran into Warden Mai not long after and received the same message on behalf of the Diamond Clan.

Morosely, Laventon wandered. He didn’t know where to even begin fixing the sky. He supposed he could eventually sneak onto one of the Ginko Landing ships to end up somewhere more welcoming, but that was more easily said than done. And until he made his way to the eastern shore, he would have to survive in the wild. He didn't know how to build a shelter. It was quite likely he'd die. And whether he escaped or not, the sky was still bleeding. Hisui was in danger- perhaps the whole world as well.

After a period of following an eastward trail, Laventon caught sight of a Galaxy Team encampment attended by a woman in a blue Survey Corps uniform. He kept his eyes off of it.

"Hey," said the Survey Corps member as Laventon approached the encampment. It was the voice of Poppy, a Survey Corps member whom Laventon had shared many a meal and many a discovery with.

Laventon continued down the trail. He wasn't in the mood for more verbal abuse.

"Hey!" came the voice again.

That was too much. Laventon broke into a jog.

Poppy let out her ursaring, which passed Laventon easily and blocked his path. Poppy then approached him from the side. "Hey. Do you want to stay at the encampment for a while? Get some rest and healing items and talk about this?"

"Well, I would love that, of course! But I'm exiled. If you welcome me, won't Kamado exile you, too?"

"Captain Cyllene said to keep any help we give you on the down-low for that reason. But she also said that so long as we're in the middle of nowhere, it should be safe. She'll send a message through her alakazam if Kamado is coming. So it's fine."

"Oh..." So Cyllene really did care about him. She really was doing all she could. And the rest of the Survey Corps were taking their trust in her and their liking for him over Kamado's authority. "Well, in that case, I'd love to. Thank you."

"No problem. Let's get a fire going and some food cooking."

As the two gathered wood in a forested area, the two heard the footsteps of a third person.

"Hide!" Poppy snapped. Laventon dove into the bushes.

"Ursaring, find whoever's out there and scare them off," Poppy ordered.

The big bear took off running. A minute later, Volo sauntered into their line of vision, his garchomp walking beside him with a fainted ursaring in its arms and not a scratch on its purple hide.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Volo said. "I saw Laventon around here a while ago. I heard about his predicament and wanted to lend a hand."

Laventon stumbled out of the bushes and came to Poppy's side as she returned her Pokémon. “Volo. Very glad to see you here and not Kamado or one of his men. Would you like to join us around the fire and discuss a plan going forward?”

"I don't think any discussion will be necessary. I know someone who might know how to fix the sky and clear your name."

Laventon lit up in excitement. "Wonderful! Let's go."

With that, Volo led and Laventon followed. "Do you happen to have any of the life plates with you?" Volo asked as they walked.

"Only one," Laventon said. "The water plate, from basculegion. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, well, you see, they're artifacts that I have use for. If I help you with this, I'd like you to give me the plate. I'd also like you to ask the rest of the Survey Corps to give me their plates as thanks. It's not as though you have any use for them, and they're very important to my research."

None of this came as a surprise to Laventon. Pretty well everyone in the Survey Corps knew that Volo only lent them his abilities on occasion because he wanted access to the plates. As far as any of them could tell, the plates were useless. It made Volo's fascination with them rather unnerving. But then, a lot of things about Volo were rather unnerving.

"Well, I suppose I could ask Captain Cyllene. I doubt she'd agree to it, but there's no harm in asking."

"If that's all you can promise, then that's what I ask. We're almost here."

The two turned a corner on the rocky path, and Laventon first saw the quaint farm and homestead, with a tall, white-haired woman drinking tea at a little table outside her house. As they approached, the lady looked up at Volo from her tea.

“Shirking your work to come pester me again? Even beneath a bleeding sky, you never change.”

“Mistress Cogita,” Volo replied cordially. “I brought you a member of the Survey Corps- one who is close with their leader. I believe that with your instruction, he could help mobilize them to mend the sky.”

“Is that so? Well, beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose. The task of preventing great disaster falls to you. The rift in space-time must be mended, lest time and space themselves be thrown out of balance. But come. You may enter my dear hideaway. There's much to be told.”

Cogita brought the two into her cozy cottage, sat Laventon and Volo down at her table, and told them everything. About almighty Sinnoh, who was both time and space. About the lake guardians, who could create a chain to mend the sky. About what Laventon must do to set it in motion.

Laventon fidgeted uncomfortably with his coat. “With respect, Mistress Cogita, that sounds impossible. I mean, I’m only one person, and a person who can barely do his own fieldwork at that. I… suppose I have to try, for Hisui’s sake. But if only I had allies…”

Suddenly, the sound of teleportation came from outside the hut, setting Laventon on edge.

"That's probably a wild Pokémon," Laventon reasoned. "But please, someone check. And if it's one of Kamado's men, hide me."

Volo got up, left the hut, and came back a moment later followed by an alakazam. It floated over, nuzzled Laventon's neck, and handed him a letter. Laventon opened it.

Laventon,

I have informed the Survey Corps that you are to be allowed to use the encampments. In addition, you may use my alakazam to access the pastures. If you have any information as to how to mend the sky, send a message back through my alakazam immediately. Kamado is growing desperate.

-Cyllene

“Good news!” Laventon said, excited and relieved. “Cyllene is looking for the very information we have. Everyone, gather around the alakazam.”

Volo looked over Laventon's shoulder and read the letter. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Volo asked. "Cyllene always pretty loyal to Kamado. She might not be the best ally."

“What’s going on?” Asked Adaman, who was poking her head into the retreat.

Cogita looked at him with playful disdain. “I know how you value time, but it would have cost you seconds to knock.”

"Well, there isn't any time!" Adaman insisted, stepping in. Irida was right behind him.

"We saw Kamado," Irida explained. "He was marching an army to Mount Coronet. It looks like something is coming out of the void. He's going to get people killed!"

Laventon's mouth hung open. "Has he taken leave of his senses?" He looked around the room nervously, and his eyes fell on Cyllene's alakazam. "Everyone, gather around the alakazam. We must gather a red chain-making army of our own! It's a risk, but I trust Cyllene and we don't have any time to spare."

After exchanging some awkward glances, the group did, and at Laventon's command, the alakazam teleported them directly into Cyllene's office.

Cyllene stood from her desk immediately. "Laventon. You've managed to not die, as I ordered. Congratulations. Why have you brought these four?"

Laventon peered back to the group and then to Cyllene. "There's a lot we have to explain. But in gist, I think we know how to mend the sky."

By the end of Laventon's explanation, Cyllene was emboldened.

"If creating this 'red chain' is what we must do to save Hisui, then that's what we'll do. Professor Laventon, you are reinstated at your former rank."

"But- Kamado-"

"If Kamado did not want me to make decisions on his behalf, he should not have left me in charge. At any rate, Lady Cogita, you mentioned a location where we must take the materials to forge the chain. I'll have you lead several members of the Survey Corps to locate it. As for the rest of you, I will lead you to find the needed materials. We will take Rei as well. His abilities in battle may prove indispensable. Prepare yourselves and meet me at the town gates as soon as possible."

There was general agreement, and the others left to prepare. Cyllene began to file out, most likely in search of another Corps captain to hold down the fort in her stead. Laventon caught her arm.

"Thank you," Laventon said. "I was certain that everyone had turned their back on me. But you stuck your neck out against Kamado's orders for me, and the Survey Corps trusted you so much that they did the same on your orders. Truly, thank you."

Cyllene hesitated. "All I know is that my alakazam..." she closed her eyes, most likely realizing that any attempt to cover what she'd done would be transparent. "It was what was right. You are valuable to us."

Cyllene held Laventon's gaze, trying to find more words. "I hope your plan succeeds, and Kamado will agree with my decision."

"Me as well," Laventon replied.

With that, they went their separate ways.

[worksinprogress1]

When Cyllene returned to camp, not long before sundown, it was safe to say that the mission had been an unmitigated success. More research subjects had been recovered that day than in any prior week of the Survey Corps' existence, and Laventon would be writing new pokédex entries for days.

"It's beginning to look like the Survey Corps will pull through," Cyllene stated as she stepped into the encampment and looked around at the various specimens- everything from mushroom beetles to living rocks- and at the people interacting with them. Laventon was taking footprint sketches of a rodent-like creature. Rei was stroking the muzzle of a flaming pony. "Survey Corps," she called, turning everyone's attention to her. "You have done well. It is time to pack up and return to the village. Tomorrow the real work begins."

So it did. The next morning, the Survey Corps reported to Cyllene's office. Now that the Survey Corps members had calmed down somewhat about the prospect of being disbandment and Cyllene was somewhat more confident that they could avoid it, Cyllene was able to reveal their circumstances.

"Kamado has given us three weeks to prove our worth. We're going to use that time to map out every corner of the Obsidian Fieldlands- resources, useful trails, the Pokémon that inhabit it, and perhaps even Pokémon that would be useful to take as guides. I began mapping out Windswept Run yesterday to give you an idea of what I expect. All of you but Laventon and myself will be assigned an area to map. If we prove to Kamado that we can do it once, then he'll allow us to do it for every area in Hisui."

The corps accepted their orders and filed out in way that reminded Laventon of loyal soldiers.

"And what about us?" Laventon asked.

"Desk work. Study the specimens and work on the pokédex. I want to see its updates on my desk at the end of every day. It will be the most important resource for the field guide."

"Alrighty, then. Let's get to it!"

Cyllene gave him a stiff nod, and Laventon returned to his conjoined office.

A few hours later, Cyllene knocked on the doorframe.

Laventon looked up from entries he was writing.

"Yes?"

"I'm mapping out the horseshoe plains. Do you have any information on the temperament of ponyta? Are they aggressive? Territorial?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know. We have a form of them in Galar, but not ones on fire! Their temperament very well could be entirely different from the ones I know."

"Understood. It will be something to ask the other survey corps members to investigate. And soon, we'll have to have a meeting to discuss the knowledge you gathered on your travels and in Galar."

"You know, you can just ask me about my travels! You don't need to feign a reason."

Cyllene looked away. "...Noted. But I am serious about putting your prior knowledge to work."

Days passed. Cyllene often popped in to ask about the abilities and temperaments of various Pokémon. Far from being a disruption, Laventon relished an opportunity to talk about his discoveries. He'd enjoyed the research he'd done throughout the years regardless of who he could share it with or what he thought its impact would be, but he'd never felt the direct impact of his studies so strongly before! And he did notice when Cyllene asked questions out of interest rather than necessity.

The three weeks came to an end, and the Obsidian Fieldlands guide was, if not complete, at least viable.

"I think will prove our worth," Cyllene said as she and Laventon gave the guide one last look over. The next day, it was to be delivered to Kamado's office, and the fate of the Survey Corps would be decided.

"I do hope so," Laventon said. "Do you want me to stay behind? I know that Kamado doesn't exactly, erm..." Laventon let himself trail off. Cyllene would know what he meant. Kamado was suspicious of outsiders. It was just who he was.

Cyllene paused and weighed their options. "No," she decided. "Avoiding him will only mean that nothing will change."

Strange lightening from the rift arced through the sky that night. But by now, Cyllene and Laventon were used to the unstable time-space of Hisui.

The following afternoon, the two made their way to Kamado's office to find clan leaders Adaman and Irida already there, the latter looking quite distressed.

"What's going on?" Cyllene asked.

Adaman gave Irida a scornful look. "Apparently the Pearl Clan doesn't take the time to look after its nobles and now it's causing a mess."

Irida's teeth clenched. "This has nothing to do with us! We might have no idea what happened to it or what to do about it, but neither do you!"

Kamado sighed and faced Cyllene. "The Pearl Clan's noble kleavor is rampaging. It seems to be afflicted with a supernatural frenzy. And neither the Pearl Clan nor the Diamond Clan want to kill the something sacred to them or sacred to a clan they have an unsteady alliance with." He turned back to the clan leaders. "You need an impartial third party to kill the rampaging beast? Very well. We'll send the Security Corps to kill it."

Irida clasped her hands over her mouth. "Kill it? It's not its fault that whatever this is is happening to it! And it's spent its life making the forests safer for us. We don't want it dead."

"Very well. I suppose we could have the Survey Corps scout out an alternative." Kamado looked to Cyllene. "You have your orders. I'll look over your guide as well, but if you are able to find an alternate solution to the frenzied noble, you will have proven the Survey Corps' worth beyond doubt."

"Understood," Cyllene said. The Survey Corps was gathered and marched to Pearl Clan territory within the hour.

-

Within the Grandtree Arena, Lord Kleavor raged. Bathed in gold light and filled with pain and energy, it dashed about, running into trees and rocks and thrashing its heavy axes- axes that were still wet from its last victim's blood.

"Release the spores," Cyllene commanded from the edge of the Grandtree Arena. Her staravia, along with the bird Pokémon of the two survey corps members at her side, each took a paras in their talons and flew over the rampaging lord, dusting it with sleep powders and stun spores in hopes of rendering it immobile. It barely seemed to slow the creature down.

"Plan B," Cyllene yelled. She and the other members returned their Pokémon. Cyllene then threw out her kadabra, which set up reflect- a shield that would hopefully allow them to get close enough to the kleavor to stop it.

The three members slid down the rockface and began throwing balms at kleavor. It took immediate notice and rammed itself towards them only to bounce off of the reflect shield. It rammed again and the shield began to crack.

"Backup!" Cyllene called out, still throwing balms along with her allies. Another three Survey Corps members slid down the opposing side of the rock face. There wasn't much they could do aside from throw balms as well.

With a third smash, the reflect broke. The survey crops members scattered. The six regrouped and Cyllene's kadabra put up another reflect. This time, the kleavor smacked into it head-first and fell backwards, dazed. Rei took out his dartrix to distract it with a battle as the other members threw balms. Finally, the golden glow lifted off the kleavor, leaving a normally-coloured and much calmer creature.

"That was close," Rei said.

"Yes," Cyllene conceded. "We'll have to strategize a bit more should there be another situation like this."

The Pokémon approached the six and handed them a strange green-coloured plate. Rei took it. He hardly had time to contemplate it, however, as Irida, Lian, and Laventon approached. he tucked it into his bag and turned his attention to the approaching people.

"What was that?" Irida asked. "It seems like Lord Kleavor lost its aggression when the light left it. So the lightening from the rift really is the cause of all this... At any rate, thank you. Without you, our only options would have been to let our lord and protector continue to be a danger or to-" Irida looked over to her lord and shook her head. "Thank you."

"No need," replied Cyllene, "It is to everyone's benefit that we keep Hisui a safe place for everyone, and that we avoid conflicts between you and the Diamond clan. There is a way that you can repay us, however."

"And what is that?" Irida said.

"The Pearl Clan has lived here for generations. You have knowledge of the Pokémon here that we don't. Share it with us. It may even help us in any further incidents such as this."

"Oh! Sure. Gladly."

"See me in my office tomorrow morning. We have much to discuss."

With that, the Survey Corps started back for camp and then Jubilife.

"Excellent work today," Laventon said, hurrying to the front of the line to catch up with Cyllene. "I took as many photos as I could of your conflict. If this doesn't show Jubilife Village that we're doing Hisui a service, well, nothing will!"

"Yes," Cyllene stated. "There will be much to discuss with Kamado tonight on a possible alliance with the Pearl Clan. Such a discussion would be incomplete without the leaders of essentially every Corps- agriculture, gathering, security, and potentially medical since a full overlap of our medical knowledge is unlikely. But our worth is proven. I'll be sure to let Kamado know that you were the one to come up with the balms."

"Wonderful! That will warm him right up to me! At least, I do hope it does."

"Indeed."

-

Basculegion motored towards the shore of Ginko Landing, stopped sharply, and launched the riding Laventon onto shore, leaving him to wipe out face-first in the sand.

"Oof..." Iscan said, approaching Laventon and helping him up. "I hope that handling the frenzied noble went a bit smoother than that."

Laventon got up and dusted himself off as basculegion headed back to Firespit Island to retrieve his fellow Survey Corps members. "It certainly did!" he assured Iscan. "My commander even approved that I lead this mission, since our usual captain was out sick. I wasn't the one doing the fighting or the planning, but I did have a few Pokemon and some guidance to contribute."

"It sounds like you're on your way up, then... Is there anything we can do to repay you?"

"Well..." Laventon said, his face beginning to flush as he thought of the Security Corps couple he'd met the previous day. "There is a reason that I asked to be brought back first. There's this friend of mine that I think fancies me. But she's kept me at such a distance that until recently, I thought there was some unspoken rule against dating someone from your corps. Do you think I should say something? What with you and Palina, I thought you'd be the one to ask."

"Hm... Absolutely. I mean, Palina and I made it work even though we're forbidden from seeing each other. If she hadn't spoken up... well, we'd both still be pining and putting up walls. Even if the answer is 'no,' or 'yes, but let's not pursue it,' it's better to know, I think."

Laventon thought that over. By now he knew that there were a few people- namely Kamado and Zisu- that Cyllene wasn't entirely aloof with. And both he and Cyllene seemed to want him on that list. Maybe once they'd talked about it, he could be. And if not, he'd at least know to give up trying. "Yes, I think you're right!" he said.

-

The next day, Laventon asked Cyllene to finally have that talk with him about his travels. While waiting for her at their planned meeting place at the Wallflower, Laventon took a moment to appreciate the changes that had come upon Jubilife since his arrival. The occasional harmless Pokémon roamed the streets now, as they had in other lands he visited. And where there were once only the sounds of people training in the training grounds, there were now animalistic cries as well, now that the Security Corps and the Survey Corps had embraced Pokémon as a means of defence. Given the direction she was coming from, that may have even been where Cyllene was coming from.

"I brought a surprise," Laventon said as Cyllene sat down.

"Oh?"

"Close your eyes," Laventon said.

Cyllene obeyed. Laventon took a wurmple out of a ball and onto his hand.

"Alright, open up."

Cyllene opened her eyes and immediately tensed. "Is there a reason for this?" she demanded, eyes focused on the bug. Laventon hesitated, and Cyllene took a careful scooch back, trying to balance between keeping the appearance of composure and keeping away from that thing.

"Well, it's... ready to evolve, and you said just recently that you'd never seen an evolution before your kadabra. I thought you might want to watch another. It's certainly a different experience than just reading about it in reports! Is there something wrong with that?"

Cyllene's nervous eyes were still on the bug. "We had those in Hoenn. They feed on our crops and on the intestines of anyone unlucky enough to contract one. All research on them should be done in the field. Not here."

"What...? With respect, captain, that's nonsense. Wurmple are insectitarians. They eat the eggs and larva of other species. That's probably why you see them around plants other bugs like to eat, and in unsanitary places that cause disease. Wurmple are harmless as they come."

Cyllene relaxed. Not entirely, but somewhat. "I... see."

"Shall we watch it evolve, then?" Laventon asked as the worm crawled up onto his neck like a scarf.

"...Let's take this to my quarters."

And so, they did. Laventon had never been in Cyllene’s quarters before. He didn’t know what he expected, but a room overflowing with indoor plants wasn’t it. There were more herbs, flowers, berries, and vegetables in there than there was paperwork in her office, and that was saying something. Cyllene moved a couple planters out of the way and led Laventon to a table. She cast a sour look at the worm and hesitantly gave it a pet. When the two were seated, Cyllene gave Laventon a stiff nod.

Laventon took the worm off his neck and passed on the nod. A sparkling flash of transformation later, the worm had turned into a cacoon- a white one, thankfully- Laventon couldn't have a toxic moth around so many well-tended plants and still have Cyllene as a friend afterward. Another flash, and the cacoon had turned into a beautiful beautifly.

"Hm. That was indeed more of an experience than reading about evolution in reports," Cyllene admitted, twitching as the beautifly began to inspect her face with its trunk. "Laventon," she said, her voice betraying a little fear. "Put it away."

Laventon chuckled and returned the creature. "You gave it your best effort."

Cyllene flushed.

"You would have hated Alola. It's just crawling with bug types! There were quite a few areas where we had to wear nets to gather specimens. Not that it wasn't worth it! It's a warm and beautiful place, some of my favourite memories come from there!"

“That’s where rowlet came from, correct? Mind if I ask about the others?”

“Not at all, so long as I can ask a few questions myself."

"Very well. We'll take turns."

"Alrighty then! So, what was your life like before Hisui?"

"I'd rather not say."

That made Laventon feel pretty stupid. She was a swordswoman from Hoenn. Chances were she'd been in the war. "Ah. Okay. Well, then, how did you manage to track an abra? They certainly aren't an easy species to track, even injured ones."

"I didn't find it by tracking. But I do think you'll be interested in its story. It was shortly after the first time-space distortion opened. We didn't know what they were at the time and had closed our walls in fear of it. A visitor from another region had locked himself outside, chasing after an injured Pokémon. And thank goodness for that visitor."

At this point, kadabra floated over and, despite nearly being Cyllene's size and barely fitting, curled up on her lap.

"I led the Security Corps to investigate the distortion and search for the visitor. He joined up with us for a while, but ran off again. After Pokémon. It was frustrating. But then a Pokémon he knew in childhood saved his life. I understood then that understanding Pokémon would help make Hisui hospitable, so I ordered that we take back a few that had been injured by the distortion. It cost us almost nothing, pleased our visitor, and gave me a small opportunity to know Pokémon better than I had. It’s from that event that I decided to create the Survey Corps. The injured Pokémon included Abra. It simply never left me after that."

“Well, then thank goodness for that visitor,” Laventon said, stroking the kadabra.

“Where did you get Cyndiquill?”

Laventon’s heart rate picked up. Somehow it seemed a bad idea to let her know he’d worked for Jhoto during wartime. Not for anything military-related, but still! “Well, I, er- I hardly remember! I take on a lot of research subjects, after all!”

Cyllene gave him a blank look that told him that he seemed a lot more suspicious than he would have liked. "Fair enough. Your turn."

"Well, if it's not too personal... is there a Mr. Cyllene?"

"No. I will focus on that once the nobles are quelled and the Survey Corps takes less of my time. Perhaps I'll be with someone from the Security Corps, or division that has little to do with ours, such as agriculture."

"Ah, I see. No time to seek someone out. Well, um, captain..." Laventon stroked the kadabra again and let his hand find Cyllene's. "What if there was no need to do any seeking?"

Cyllene took her hand away. "No, Laventon. That isn't a good idea."

"Oh. Okay. Friends, then. Right?"

Cyllene hesitated. It occurred to Laventon that she might find even that too familiar for a close co-worker. "...Friends," she conceded.

Months passed. Lands were explored and one more nobles quelled. Meanwhile, time-space became increasingly unstable, and the rift in the sky grew ever-wider.

[worksinprogress1]

For years, the SCP Foundation could only watch as the Ambassador led artist after artist to abandon their lives on earth. They'd sent fleets of trained military personnel only to have them killed effortlessly by reality warpers, their remains tossed back through the doors as though to mock the researchers.

Another strategy had been tried: training researchers in the way of fine arts and positioning them to be chosen by the Ambassador, such that they might enter Alagadda as a welcome presence.

Unfortunately, the results were the same for every researcher-turned-artist who had gone through this process: once they entered Alagadda, nothing could get them to leave.

"There is one more thing we could try," said one shadowy O5 council member to the board after yet another researcher had been lost to the strange realm. "We could send someone who is impervious to most otherworldly influences. Who has reality-warping powers of his own. Who would never choose art over the violence we let him inflict.”

Another council member, the oldest, looked across to her, eyes sharp. "Alto Clef is an important asset to the Foundation. And moreover, letting him into a realm we know nothing about given his… personal characteristics… could have any number of consequences.”

The other O5 member shook her head. “We don’t know whether Alagadda is related to the Scarlet King,” she countered. “This could very well be the only way to stem a growing army of reality warpers.”

The eldest member sat back, steepled his hands, and thought for a moment. “Very well," then." he said finally. "We will set him up with Mahavira Madhvacharya for art film mentorship and see what happens. But if he dies, or worse, converts, you may very be terminated for it.”

The woman nodded. “That's a risk I'm willing to take.”

—-

Charlotte shuddered and screamed as millipedes coated in fake blood crawled from her mouth. Her writhing on the floor was a bit of overacting that her director had demanded, but the rest of her reaction was genuine. Her joke of a "director" had insisted that nothing else would do.

“Cut!” Alto Clef yelled, prompting the poor actress to roll over onto her hands and knees and spit out the bugs. “Someone get me a lemon drop French martini," Clef ordered. "We start filming again in seventeen and a half minutes. I want twenty more takes of this by the time the day’s out.”

The actress spat out one last grub and looked at Clef in absolute disdain. “What,” she demanded, “is the point of having six bug-vomiting scenes in a film about children’s drawings?”

Clef lounged back in his director’s chair and smiled ghoulishly at her. “It’s about how human expression is painful, or something. I don’t know, it’s fun for me.”

Charlotte looked over to the renowned but retired art director, Mahavira Madhvacharya, who was sat next to his spoiled little protégé in a similar chair. Unfortunately but unsurprisingly, he seemed perfectly at peace with things. The man loved watching the creative process of "young and blossoming artists" the way some liked watching the bizarre films he'd spent decades of his life creating. It's why he'd chosen to spend his retirement mentoring anyone who wanted to be mentored. "A film does need to be enjoyed, eh, Alto? No meaning will be absorbed without pleasure, surely. But you have to consider what the audience will like, too, no? Don't become too wrapped up in your own preferences."

"Yeah. Sure. I'll think about it," Clef said. He surely would not think about it. He didn't give a damn about children's drawings. Not like his kid could make him any that wouldn't disintegrate in a day from merely being artifical and in her radius. No hand-drawn Father's Day cards for him, just the flowers that sprouted from the wreckage of her containment cell whenever it went too long without replacement.

As Clef returned home to the base that night and did his one-hour off-key ukele solo, he thought to himself, "This is the life." He thought he had it made on the base tormenting SCPs and his coworkers all day, but this. He had a whole year where his "job" was basically to boss people around and make them do whatever he wanted. Sure, they were supposed to move on to other stages of film-making eventually, but he wasn't going to let that happen. And as for the idea that this would make an artist out of him, well, that there was even less chance of.

Yes, as Clef settled down for the night, he was absolutely certain that he'd never go to Alagadda. This would be a fun year, and then he'd go back to his old life. He fell asleep peacefully, blissfully unaware that he was being watched.

That night, Clef dreamt. He was standing in a dark void, and then an explosion occurred, sending fractals of light and particles in every direction. From there were images of things Clef would never have been able to describe.

Clef watched as an alien-looking, water-dwelling jellyfish creature taught a smaller creature of its species- its young, perhaps- to forge ornate glass vases using the heat of hydrothermal vents. After a while, Clef was torn away from their cozy home. He saw its beautiful glass exterior, and then, as he continued to be pulled away, he saw a city of similar ones. He was pulled further and saw more cities, then pulled from the ocean and into the sky, where he saw alien plant life and beautiful cities of stone on the planet's landmasses. And then he saw a tiny blip in the water- the rainbow-coloured corpse of the parental jellyfish. But the cities, the art, the legacy remained.

Clef's alarm went off the next morning at six sharp. He rushed through his usual work out regimen feeling especially amped, adrenaline pushing him through more chin ups than he'd ever accomplished as his mind raced. He had to get back on set. He had to do what those jellyfish were doing.

When Clef arrived on set, he was surprised at first to find that everyone there aside from Madhvacharya looked bored and annoyed with him. But of course they did- he'd been treating this privilege as a joke. "Everyone but Madhvacharya, take the day off," Clef announced. "I need to make some changes to the script. You'll be paid in full."

The actress turned away in annoyance and began walking away, no doubt wondering what fresh torture Clef was cooking up for her.

Clef had no time to worry about that. He took to the side of the old director, who had already been seated beside the director's chair. "Alright. We have to make some changes," he started, putting his chair opposite the directors and sitting to face him. "First, I want the protagonist to be vomiting coloured paint, not bugs. We can use some kind of practical effects to make the colours cover the whole room to show what art does to the world. The windows should become coloured glass. And I want her to survive it. Second, I want this movie to actually be good. You'll have to teach me how to do that."

Madhvacharya smiled enthusiastically and stood up with all the energy his old bones could muster. "I knew you'd find your inner artist," he drawled, "All my protégés do in time."

They began to walk to the desk on which Clef would plan his masterpiece.

"Though, then they tend to disappear..."

---

Weeks passed. Every night, Clef dreamt of art being created by aliens, proto-humans, and even by what seemed like biblical angels. Every day, he woke up and worked on the film, incorporating what he saw or what he'd learned from it. Everyone but Madhvacharya was furious with the constant change, but Clef didn't care. He had eight months left to create his masterpiece. The film wouldn't be publishable by the end of the year, and Madhvacharya would make limited copies of the film and move on to his next protégé, but that was fine. Clef accepted it. He'd keep his copy, share his art with anyone he could, carry the skills into smaller, hobbyist projects afterward, and let that be enough. He'd even started trying to play his ukele well.

That was, until the night of September 28th. On that night, Clef dreamt again of the jellyfish creating blown glass. This time it was a master artist creating a great glass structure as many others followed suit, waving their tentacles around in rows of hydrothermal vents like a university classroom attempting to emulate an esteemed professor.

And then the earth began to shake and rumble, and every last glass structure shattered as the jellyfish panicked. Once again, Clef began to zoom out of the scene, first from the ocean and then from their atmosphere, backing away just in time to see an asteroid reduce their planet to shards of rock.

Dull shards of rock. They must have been miles in legnth, but from Clef's perspective, they were like particles of glass. Clef's scientific knowledge told him that every last shard of actual glass from the planet must have been melted now.

Gone.

Clef was hyperventilating. Once he would have enjoyed such destruction. But now...

From there, Clef saw the particles of the planet disperse and stars in the sky explode, one by one, until the sky was empty. What looked like a biblical angel floated a few feet from his face, and Clef thought that surely it couldn't die. Surely it wouldn't be destroyed by time as well. But it, too, exploded in a flower of blood and viscera.

And then, Clef heard music. He turned, and he saw a beautiful city with strange geometries, painted in red, white, yellow and black and decorated in all forms of art, most of which Clef had never seen before, even in his dreams. He even spotted a palace made of coloured glass, even grander than the ones he'd seen underwater. Clef came towards the city, and as he stepped into its streets, he began to feel safe again. This place wouldn't crumble. It would outlast the very universe and then the universe after it.

Then, Clef's alarm went off. He turned it off, cold with sweat and heart racing.

Clef arrived at the film studio, still feeling and no doubt looking haunted. By now, the studio was filled with strange and abandoned props- things that Clef had integrated into his film in a flurry of inspiration and discarded in favor of alternative desires just as quickly. And amongst them were a crew of frustrated actors and a smiling Mahavira Madhvacharya.

"We need to start all over," Clef said.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Charlotte shouted at him. "For what? So you can keep overloading this movie with weird shit that no one is going to understand?"

As recently as yesterday, Clef would have snarked at her in response. Today, all that escaped his lips were the words, "I don't know."

How could he make something that mattered? He needed his work to be seen, worshipped, its message known, but even if it was, it would all disappear in the end. He looked over to Madhvacharya, whose face had fallen. "I don't know," he repeated, hoping that his mentor would have the answer.

"Shall we leave the actors to their acting and try to do some writing?" the mad director asked, putting a hand around Clef's back and guiding him to a breakout room. Clef followed his lead into the room and fell down heavily in a chair. Madhvacharya brought him some paper and pencils.

"Alright, now leave me alone," Clef ordered. "And have someone bring me a martini. My usual order."

"Very well," Madhvacharya said, turning to leave.

Clef faced the paper, his mind empty. Minutes passed, and he tried writing the easiest story he could think of, a simple torture-and-murder type thing that he'd fantasize about on his coffee breaks in the Foundation. He didn't have the words even for that.

Clef's lack of inspiration continued for several days, and the dreams had stopped entirely. Filming continued as Clef directed, his eyes glazed over and the wheels of his mind spinning as he tried to fix his film. The actors were glad for the lack of changes, which annoyed him. Why hadn't he taken the time to enjoy their misery before? He couldn't now. The halls of the foundation had grown quiet from the lack of Clef's ukele solos.

Weeks later, Clef finally had a dream again. No imagery, just a single voice, deep and androgunous and smooth.

Show me who you are, it said. Express yourself. Show me that you are worthy.

The next morning, Clef came into filming, loaded his arms with all the art supplies he could carry, and ran back home. Frenzied, he ran through his unit at the Foundation, coating everything with red and black. That wasn't enough. Home wasn't where he was most himself and he knew it. He took his cans of red and black, with white and yellow, too, for good measure, and stumbled into the SCP research center. He threw a bucket of yellow paint on the ground and began spreading it before he realized that this wasn't enough, either. No. He knew what he must do.

Clef made his way over to SCP 682's containment cell, opened it with his keycard, and threw black paint into the vat of acid containing the anomaly. In its subdued and tortured state, the creature did not react. Once at a safe distance and out of the creature's eyesight, Clef pushed the button to collapse the tank of acid and watched as the reptile thrashed about, roaring and spilling paint everywhere. Soon, the blood of some unfortunate personnel would join the black.

Yes. This was him. He was pure chaos and destruction. This was the self-expression the voice had commanded of him. He could feel it. A bit longer and he'd be done.

At some point during Clef's artistic rampage, in which six more SCPs were released and he faced a strange lack of interference, something was said over the intercom. Clef scarcely registered it. At some point, cameras, microphones, and a harness were put on his body by other members of the SCP personnel. He didn't notice. At the end of twenty minutes, the SCPs were once again contained and Clef found himself painting a door of white on a wall of black. When he was finished, he stepped through the door.

From the control room, several researchers were gathered to watch through Clef's cameras. Through it, they saw a world of four colours: red, black, yellow, and white- though Clef was, for the first time, seeing it with every colour he knew of and some he hadn't. The realm's citizens, all clad in masquerade masks, were strange and alien. Some even floated as though through water. The world's structures and geometries were downright bizarre. The camera on Clef's chest heaved as he took several sighs of relief. And then he noticed the equipment that had been attached to him.

"Ha, you thought you'd try to pull me back if I went local, huh? Well, I'm not going to be held back by some stupid leash."

"Okay, let's reel him back," the head researcher ordered through a walkie-talkie, and on the opposite side of the door, three guards began to heave the cord that connected Clef to the real world. Clef fell backward, but then he used his reality-warping powers to undo the harness. The three guards, suddenly pulling at an empty leash instead of against a man, fell backward.

"What do we do?" asked a scientist from the control room.

"We learn what we can learn from the cameras," said the lead scientist, "and if need be, use our last resort."

Clef strolled through the city, stopping occasionally to gawk at bizarre art or to chat with a strange beings in an unrecognizable tongue and be spoken back to in English. About ten minutes into his sightseeing, a fifteen-foot-tall being cloaked in robes and wrapped in chains melted out of the cobblestone road and appeared before him.

Alto Clef, the being said. Its voice was androgynous and otherworldly and threatening. Clef remembered it as the voice from his dreams. Welcome. I'm glad that you've accepted my invitation. You are not any ordinary guest here. We know of your powers. And we know of your love for violence. We have a special role for you here.

The being stomped the ground, and a portal showing all of the universe opened up beneath it. You see, for people to crave creativity, immortality, and all else that our world depends on for its new members, they must fear death and destruction. We will make sure you have time to create, but we would also like to instruct you in the ways of using your powers for destruction. You'll have a role here in destroying worlds and causing random calamities to keep living beings aware of their fragility. Do you agree to this arrangement?

Clef took a moment to absorb what he was hearing. Then he smiled and laughed so hard he could barely collect himself. "Yes," he said. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Now he would be able to cause more calamity than the SCP foundation ever would have allowed him! The trepidations he'd had before were gone- he was no longer one of mortal creation, so why should their destruction frighten him?

"Clef," came the voice of a female researcher through the speaker attached to his chest. "This being might be tricking you. You know that your life is pleasant at the foundation. Come back. We'll even re-negotiate your contract if you want, we-"

"Shove it."

"Very well. We'll have to turn to other measures, then." With that, the transmission ended.

"Dad," came a female voice from behind Clef. It was a blonde teenage girl with furry grey goat legs and horns. His daughter. And she looked ready to cry. "Dad. Please come back. If you don't come back, I'll stay here."

Clef's mouth hung open as he took in the implications of that. "Honey... you have to leave. Your powers will destroy this place. It's entirely made of man-made materials and some of them are really processed! There's nothing natural under it. You'd the whole world collapse in on itself!"

The girl clenched her jaw as tears ran down her face. "If I go back without you, the foundation will kill me," she said.

"I have to protect this world," said the ambassador. "Will her powers still affect this place if she's dead?"

"Yes!" Clef screamed. "In fact, it'll make them go haywire! This place will be destroyed in a minute if you kill her, so don't even think about it!" It was a lie. Clef didn't know what would happen if his daughter died. He had to think of a way out of this.

Grass was growing at his daughter's feet, disturbing the cobblestones. That was Clef's final straw. He ran, grabbing his daughter's hand and sprinting for the door he'd opened and thankfully not painted shut. They were through the door before Clef dared to look back.

The ambassador was not in a rush. It stepped slowly toward the door, and once it got there, pulled a paint bucket and brush out of thin air and painted the portal closed.

It made sense, Clef supposed. He was a threat to Alagadda's existence. There'd been no need to stop him from leaving.

With information on Alagadda acquired, there was no need for Clef to be learning about the art of film. His mentorship was ended and he returned to his post at the Foundation. The very day he was repositioned, Clef bought himself a set of paints. He'd make something to earn his way back to the unending world of Alagadda, and this time the Foundation wouldn't interfere.

[worksinprogress1]

It was mid-day when Laventon’s ship arrived at prelude beach. He could see the vast forests of the land he was about to study, no doubt teeming with species he’d never encountered, a great mountain that would doubt hold interest, and the walls to the little village he’d be staying in. It was so exciting that he could barely contain himself! He’d studied Pokémon in plenty of regions, sure, but never one whose fauna was so unexplored as this. The woman who’d hired him had said she wanted his help in creating a record of every single Pokémon in the region! Even he wasn’t sure they could pull it off, but he was willing to try!

…And that very woman was becoming increasingly visible on the docks. Laventon pulled himself together somewhat, removed his toque, attempted to brush down his hair with his fingers, gave up on doing so and repositioned his toque, and brought out the three Pokémon he’d brought from overseas so that they could make an entrance.

The boat hit the docks. Laventon hopped off and gave his new boss an excited wave. “Hello, there! You must be Captain Cyllene!”

The woman peered up from a photo she was holding- the picture Laventon had sent her in his letters so she’d be able to recognize him. “That is correct,” she deadpanned. “And you’re Professor Laventon.”

“That’s right. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to the opportunity.”

“Excellent. Come with me,” Cyllene said, turning towards the village.

It wasn’t a long walk to the severe-looking wooden walls of Jubilife, and as they approached, the watchmen opened up the gates to reveal a quaint little place. Children were playing with hand-carved toys in the streets, villagers worked in the fields, and number of cute little shops made themselves available to them. Laventon caught himself eyeing up a local’s woodcarvings before he realized that he was falling behind Cyllene. He caught back up just as she reached the steps of a large stone building.

“This is Galaxy Hall, home of the Galaxy Team, which you will be joining,” Cyllene explained, still walking with an evident sense of purpose. “We are a group dedicated to building a life on Hisui both for ourselves and for future generations. The Survey Corps is a new division of the Galaxy Team meant to research Pokémon so that we might gather resources more easily, explore their uses, and generally learn to coexist.”

The two walked through a door into a messy office. Cyllene stepped behind the desk and pulled out a blue uniform, complete with a satchel and red scarf.

“This is a mere formality since you won’t be doing fieldwork yourself, but here is our uniform. The Survey Corps will have their first excursion tomorrow and will bring you subjects for research. For today, I’d like you to give me a full report on the Pokémon currently in my office, including its abilities and care needs.”

Laventon took the uniform and looked uncomfortably around the room for the Pokémon. “The Pokémon in…? Oh.” Laventon finally spotted the abra asleep in the corner. “He’s a cute little fellow.”

“He was found injured, and he is constantly lethargic or asleep despite several months having passed. If you have any information on what the problem with him might be, report it to me immediately.”

Laventon smiled. “Actually, I can help you with that right now. We have that Pokémon in several regions. They’re called abra- as in "abra kadabra"- and they’re supposed to sleep all the time. Their psychic energy uses a lot of energy, after all. I’ll take a look, but there might be nothing wrong with it at all!”

"It isn't ill?" It was hard to tell, but Laventon could swear that Cyllene had just let out a sigh of relief.

"Most likely not."

“Excellent. Well, start your report. Your office is the one next to mine. When you’ve finished, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

“Will do!”

Laventon beckoned the abra over to him and left. It seemed like of all places to spend the next year or so, this was a fine one. And imagine the recognition of making the first-ever log of every Pokémon in a region! And the more immediate praise for his knowledge on something so little known in these parts... What a rewarding adventure he'd embarked on.

Or so he thought. The excursion team he set out with the next day was the most nervous-looking he’d ever seen, and by the end of the day they’d only brought him a few specimens from a measly four species. It hadn’t occurred to Laventon until then, but Cyllene’s abra was the only Pokémon he’d seen in the village. Cyllene had mentioned in her letters that these people didn’t use Pokémon of their own and were just learning to use pokéballs, but he’d never expected them to be as naïve as they were. Laventon tried teaching the Survey Corps better methods, but it was slow going, especially with a teacher who had always been too clumsy to catch many Pokémon himself. And instead of proudly bringing new specimens to the villagers, he had to see them gawk at the pastures and listen to whispers from Jubilife of how the Survey Corps was a dangerous experiment and a waste of resources.

A month passed, and a hole opened up in the sky. No one knew why. It alarmed many. Laventon prayed that it would cause some sort of miracle that would solve their problems. None came.

A few weeks after the hole opened in the sky, Laventon was sitting at his desk, swirling the poison of a zubat in a test tube to separate its elements and determine its potency. That had been a good deal of his work in Hisui: testing poisons, bite strength, voltage, and so on from the same ten species that the Survey Corps was able to catch. Just as the elements were separated, Laventon heard the doors to the Galaxy Hall open. It was Rei, who was, not for the first time, coming back from camp with a distressed shinx squirming in his arms and shocking him with every couple feet he dragged it. Around the shinx’ back leg was a tight, painful snare that had been used to catch it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one of the Survey Corps to have used such methods.

“Oh, no… Rei, what have I told you about using pokéballs?” Laventon said, running over.

“I’m- sorry- professor,” Rei said, his voice starting and stopping with each shock the feline Pokémon gave him.

Laventon untied the snare, receiving a few shocks himself, then took the Pokémon in his arms. “Let’s take this little one outside,” he insisted.

Once outside, Laventon guided them to an uncrowded area of town. “Alright, Rei. I’m going to put the shinx down, and I want you to send out your partner against it.”

With some hesitation, Rei tossed out the pikachu Laventon had arranged as his partner. The two pokemon squared each other up and began to tussle.

“Now throw the ball,” the Professor insisted once the shinx was beginning to tire out. Rei did. It hit the shinx, shook, then clicked shut with a spark.

“See how easy that was? There’s no reason to risk your safety doing it any other way than that,” Laventon said, still sounding a bit distressed even to himself.

Rei seemed to think this over, then shook his head. “pokéballs are fine for wurmples and bidoof and whatnot, but how is a hollowed-out rock and an apricorn supposed to protect me from something like that?”

“Rei… a pokéball isn’t a cage. All Pokémon could come out of them if they wanted. Unless you’ve put them asleep, a Pokémon who stays in the ball wants to be in it. And we want to eventually study all Pokémon in Hisui. How will you bring me Pokémon that could really hurt you if you don’t use Pokémon of your own?”

“Why would they want to be in a ball just because we beat them up a little? I don’t get it. And as for your second question…” Rei looked down. “I’m not sure, Professor. A lot of people are saying the Survey Corps will be broken up and reassigned soon.”

“Oh, come now. Where have you heard that?”

“Commander Kamado. I overheard him talking about it in the medical bay after the electrocution event last week.”

Laventon’s jaw dropped. If there was no more Survey Corps, he wouldn’t have a reason to stay in Jubilife anymore. As basic as the research here had been, he didn’t want to leave Hisui so soon, or in such a poor state. “I’m sure he’ll see reason eventually!” Laventon insisted, a very fake smile on his face. “After all, we have so many achievements behind us! Such as, well…”

Just then, Captain Cyllene walked up to the pair. “Professor Laventon. There you are. Join me to the Obsidian Fieldlands immediately,” she ordered.

“Oh. Got to go. I’ll see you soon, Rei.”

It then occurred to Laventon that the captain had met with Kamado that day. Was he about to be let go? But then, why do it out in the fieldlands? It wasn’t as though Cyllene was the type to shy away from delivering harsh news in front of others.

“Um, Captain?” Laventon said as the Jubilife Village gates shut behind them and two Security Corps members joined their party. “Is there a reason for the sudden excursion?”

“I will inform you of that when we arrive,” Cyllene replied.

After an anxiety-riddled hike, the party arrived at the encampment. Cyllene looked Laventon in the eye. “The Survey Corps is doing poorly,” she admitted. “We are not meeting our goals to make Hisui more traversable or to make Pokémon our work animals. Most of the village is still afraid of Pokémon, our team has twice the rate of injury of any other division, and many are doubting whether this is a good use of our resources.”

Laventon nodded solemnly, wondering when the next boat to Galar would arrive. “I understand.”

“Good,” Cyllene said, determination in her eyes. “We’re on the same page. Today, I want you to teach me everything you know about catching Pokémon for research. Tomorrow, I’m calling for an emergency excursion for the entire Survey Corps to help them implement your teachings. There’s no need for us to give up yet.”

“Wonderful!” Laventon said, and he meant it. It seemed like the ice was thin, but at least he had every chance to scramble off of it.

The next day, Cyllene ordered an expedition for every member of the Survey Corps, starting at the Fieldlands Camp.

“Every one of you is returning to the village tonight with six Pokémon, each of a different species," Cyllene announced once the group had arrived at camp and lined up before her. "Three of them will be research subjects for the professor, the other three will be your new teammates, and all of them will be caught in pokéballs."

Of the twelve survey corps members, half were attempting to put on a brave face. The rest, including Rei, were clearly nervous. “But… ma’am…” Rei said, “six species in one day is more than any of us have managed.”

“I would not have you do anything I was not prepared to do myself. Come along,” Cyllene replied, turning on her heel. She led the others into the field and then stopped abruptly, holding her arm out to signal that they should stop and be quiet. Before them was a bird of prey with a wingspan as large as a person was tall.

Cyllene carefully stepped towards it, scooped up some mud, and threw it, hitting the bird in the shoulder. It turned to her, screeching fiercely. Cyllene drew her sword and held it between herself and the bird.

“Pokémon respond to strength,” Cyllene explained, keeping her eyes on the bird. “What they want more than anything is an opportunity to use their power. Show them that you will present such an opportunity-”

The bird lunged at Cyllene. She tucked and rolled out of the way, picked up a rock, and threw it. The bird dodged out of the way and adjusted trajectory to lunge at her again. Cyllene threw a pokéball. It hit the bird on the forehead. In a flash of light, the bird entered the ball, which fell to the ground.

“Present such an opportunity, and they will want to stay with you,” Cyllene finished, again holding her sword between the ball and herself in case the bird popped out.

The ball shook once and then clicked shut. Cyllene picked up the ball and released the Pokémon from it, allowing it to perch on her forearm. “Are there any questions?” she asked, facing the rest of her team.

Laventon hesitantly raised his hand as the other members stayed silent. “Well… not so much a question as an addition…” he said.

“Go on,” Cyllene said.

Laventon made his way to Cyllene’s side and faced the others. “Everything the captain said is true, but don’t forget that Pokémon are also naturally companiable creatures! They’re not tools or enemies to be subdued. They want to be your friends and you should treat them as such!” he said, stroking the bird.

Cyllene nodded in agreement. “Yes. If we’re to live in peace on this land, we must learn to co-exist with its wildlife. We will want our relations to be positive.”

Laventon sighed in relief. It would be quite an intimidating task indeed if he had to convince Cyllene that Pokémon were friends!

“The professor will provide a Pokémon for each of you to begin your efforts with. The Pokémon will be weak, as we have only gathered weak Pokémon thusfar, but they’ll ensure that you will not be fighting wild Pokémon yourself and they will become stronger with use. Any weapons you are carrying are an absolute last resort. Keep your Pokémon in fighting condition if at all possible and return to the encampment if they are incapacitated. Now, move out. Each of you in a different direction.”

The ten survey corps members let out a chorus of “yes, ma’am’s” and set out, each stocking up on potions and revives, receiving a Pokémon from Laventon, and heading their separate ways.

“My, you have their respect!” Laventon exclaimed. “I see now why you wanted to demonstrate this yourself. A goofy foreigner like myself shows them time and time again how to use a pokéball and they still don’t trust it to protect them, but when it’s you, they hang on your every word!”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Cyllene replied. “The Galaxy Team has immigrants from several regions. We are quick to accept anyone who proves their worth. And Rei seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Laventon smiled. “Has he? Well! That’s delightful. So, do you have any name ideas for your new Pokémon? It looks to be a starly evolution, so something with ‘star’ in the name would be sensible, don’t you think?”

“Hmm… yes, I suppose it would. Once we get back to the Galaxy Hall, we’ll have to explore whether its power over the wind could be used to dry the ink on my paperwork.”

Laventon wanted to make a light jab at her about being too focused on her work, but before he could, Rei came running back. “Hey, Professor- before I set out, I was wondering if you could teach me a little about battling. There has to be more to it than just letting a Pokémon out, right?”

“That there is, Rei! I’d be happy to teach you.”

“Hm. I was going to stay a while in case there were any such questions, but it seems you have that under control. I will be off, then. I intend to make good on my promise to not to order the Survey Corps to do what I am not prepared to do myself.”

Cyllene put her sword in the camp’s lock box. Laventon nodded in understanding at the gesture- everyone else was to exclusively use their Pokémon as weapons that day and so would she. “Keep the lesson short,” she reminded.

“Will do!” Laventon said with a smile. “Happy hunting!”

Cyllene gave him a stiff nod and walked off, the yet-unnamed bird flying by her side. Laventon watched. How he wanted to talk to her more, and in a more casual capacity. She seemed like such a fascinating person, and yet he could only ever see her businesslike surface… at least now it seemed he’d get a chance.

[worksinprogress1]

The sun was setting as Mercury drove the commanders back home. They’d rented a cabin by Lake Verity for the weekend to celebrate Saturn’s 30th birthday. It had been a good time.

It had taken weeks before Mercury trusted that the commanders’ plot to keep him out of prison would work even in the short term, and months after that for him to trust that nothing would upend what seemed to him to be a very precarious situation. Everything had felt very intense, then, both for good and bad. Pleasurable things- flavours after having lived in a world with neither a need to eat nor anything edible, company after so much isolation, colours after perpetual dusk- they’d seemed very acute for a while, especially since he’d been half-convinced that soon he’d be deprived of them in a prison cell. And for a while, noise and stimulation had been more difficult to navigate, not helped by the stares brought on by the ill-advised cover story he and the other ex-commanders had come up with for why there had been a commander no one had heard of. But everything had settled down now. Things felt normal.

“Was the trip to your standards, Saturn?” Mercury asked. There was no response. In the backseat, Saturn and Mars had nodded off. Good for them. Saturn was always tired lately, and yet he’d always refused to let Mercury so much as look at the admin work whenever he had to stay late, no matter how many times he’d argued that he had more experience running a company and that Saturn needed to rest.

“There must be a reason Saturn won’t let me help with the admin work,” Mercury mused to himself.

Jupiter turned off the radio. “Yeah, actually, there is,” she said seriously, completely shifting the tone of the evening. “He doesn’t want you to know anything more than you have to about the company because he doesn’t trust you at all. This talk is actually pretty overdue, so let’s get it over with. He’s seen you hanging around with a bunch of other Galactic Corps workers with bowl cuts outside of work. I think he’s paranoid, but it’s worried him enough that he’s been losing sleep over it and looking through your stuff for anything suspicious. So, wanna tell me what’s going on with the bowlcuts?”

Mercury hesitated. He didn’t know where to begin with the bizarre situation those workers had put him in.

“He saw a file on your laptop labelled, ‘private research,’” Jupiter continued, “It’s protected by eye scan. He’s been putting off talking to you about it.”

“That… is research I’ve done with the bowl cut-wearing workers in our own time,” Mercury admitted, “but it is nothing immoral. I have done nothing wrong.”

“In that case, showing him your little study is probably the best birthday present you could give him.”

“What is?” Mars asked from the backseat, apparently having woken up.

“Nothing,” Jupiter replied, ending their conversation.

It didn’t surprise Mercury much that Saturn didn’t trust him, unfortunately. They’d enjoyed spending time together at times since his return from the Distortion World, but Saturn had often seemed nervous around him, or annoyed he was there. It frustrated him. The thought of Saturn going through his things angered him. But he supposed he shouldn’t have kept his research and how it had come about a secret to begin with. Maybe once he came clean, their relations could improve.

When the group got home, Mercury quarrelled Saturn into his room for their overdue talk.

“You’ve been suspicious of me,” Mercury stated.

Saturn looked at Mercury with sad eyes and sat down on the bed as if preparing for a long, ugly talk. To Mercury’s surprise, he was brushing tears from his eyes.

“I mean, yes, I am. You said yourself that if there was a way to make your new universe, you would, and I knew that if there’s any way, you’d find it. I don’t trust for a second that you’re content making solar panels for the rest of your life, and companionship didn’t fix you in college, so why would it be any different now? I’m responsible for keeping dozens of ex-criminals from falling back on their old ways. If you’re a threat to that, then I have to do what I have to do."

Mercury hesitated for a moment. Maybe he should have told Saturn that he left Canalave because he sensed he would abandon his plan if he didn’t. That Saturn had made him feel so human and content that a normal life felt acceptable and almost worth throwing away what he thought was right. Saturn would probably have interpreted that as “fixing him.” But he decided to stick to the facts.

“I think you should know what actually happened between me and the ‘bowlcuts.’”

---

“I’m sorry,” Noah said, “I told the wrong person about you and about some myths I was studying, and now look what’s happened.”

“I’ll say no to them and it will all be over,” Mercury assured him. He wasn’t about to get mad at his only non-excommander friend over a minor inconvenience.

Noah took Mercury into what was apparently the apartment of one of the Galactic Corps workers. As soon as he opened the door, a group of people, all but one with variously-coloured bowl cuts, was looking at him expectantly.

“Mercury,” said a tall woman who had been standing at the doorway, waiting for him. Against the sea of bowl cuts, the hot pink hair she'd carefully tied back were very noticeable. “Team Galactic tried to keep you secret, but we know who you are. Cyrus noticed your similar appearance to his and your skill for acting and thus conditioned you to act as he acted and believe what he believed. You was his spy, taking on a multitude of roles, but your most important role was as his duplicate, allowing him to be in two places at once. And if he were to die in such a way it could be kept secret, you were to take his place. It is why he named you Mercury, the closest planet to the sun. We came up with a new plan to finish what Cyrus started.  We want the new world to be as close to his vision as possible, and so you are the person most qualified to lead us. If this meeting goes smoothly, by the end of it you'll call me Commander Neptune."

"Show me your plan," Mercury said to "Neptune." It was likely that he could find a flaw in their plan and stop this lunacy before it began.

"Neptune" handed him a file containing three double-sided pages. "We have a far more detailed plan, but this is the gist," she said.

Mercury skimmed through it for flaws, then read it more thoroughly. The plan was foolproof. Better than his own had been. He handed the file back to “Neptune” and began planning his next move. If only he’d had a less enticing cover story this may not have happened.

The grunts stood at nervous, eager attention, and Mercury realized that he was glaring at "Neptune" with his shoulders squared and his arms folded behind his back. He'd slipped into his old skin, as he still did instinctively when he was uncomfortable. He hated that they loved it. "You know nothing of Cyrus or his plan," Mercury said, voice flat. "Cyrus thought every one of you was disposable. He would think it laughable that you could make a worthwhile plan. His world would have been one without joy, love, or any goodness in it at all."

"If that's what he wanted, it must be right. I understand your anger that he didn't treat us well. I also understand that you don't want to steal Galactic Corps from your friend as the plan dictates. But Cyrus wouldn't want you to put your feelings over your duty, commander. We have found a way to reduce suffering. We’re obliged to see it through."

"You just have to say no," Noah reminded Mercury.

"I don't believe you'd stop if I did," Mercury said. This woman clearly had a dangerous amount of leadership ability in her own right. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "I know things that Cyrus didn't." Mercury opened his eyes again and gave "Neptune" a hard look. "Your idea of Cyrus is overly positive to say the least. So, what would your idea of Cyrus do if he were no longer sure his plan was worth executing?"

"He'd research. He'd look at the facts," the woman replied.

---

“And so we did,” Mercury explained. “That file contains interview research meant to see if Cyrus’ plan was worth pursuing. The evidence suggests that it is completely normal to be relatively content and to have the support and company of many people. As Cyrus would have supposedly wanted us to follow the evidence, their revival group disbanded.”

“Can I see?” Saturn asked. He looked like he didn’t quite believe it.

“Yes. I promised you complete transparency.” Mercury took the laptop out from under his bed, allowed the scanner to detect his eye, handed the computer and its now-unlocked document to Saturn.

Saturn read the document.

The Human Condition

Purpose: to test Cyrus' theory that the world is a painful place that needs reformation.

Hypothesis: human beings are, as a whole, relatively content and decent to each other, and Cyrus' world wouldn't have been worth destroying ours for.

It was very clear from the hypothesis that this research wasn't up to academic snuff, but Saturn got the sense that it wasn't meant to be. He skimmed through pages of interviews that were just as Mercury described before skipping to the end.

Conclusion: After conducting interviews with over forty people from all walks of life, we can conclude that there is no flaw in humanity great enough to justify their extermination.

Personal Addition: before my return from the Distortion World, I wondered why so many people stood against me, not wanting their suffering to end. Once my life became better than unending neutrality could have been, I began to wonder if this was what they had been defending. Now I have my confirmation that it is. It is good to know that there is nothing morally wrong with my current life or any reason to think it will not last. I wish I'd done what I'd described to my rotom.

Saturn started crying again, but this time they were tears of relief. “I’m so glad this can last,” he said. “It would suck if we couldn’t get distracted in meetings anymore and make blueprints for things we’ll never build. Or stay up and watch the stars.”

“That was my reaction exactly,” Mercury replied. “It is good to know that what we have Is very normal.”

“By the way, what’s a rotom?” Saturn asked.

Mercury’s eyes widened in attention. “A species of Pokémon. Charon was researching it in the secret room in Eterna. What became of it when the team disbanded?”

“Secret room? What secret room?”

“We need to go immediately. A Pokémon could still be trapped there.”

Mercury called for a staraptor to carry them to Eterna. While Mercury guided the giant bird, Saturn researched what he could on rotoms. “It says here that rotoms were officially discovered after that meddlesome trainer caught one at the old chateau. It was then left with Professor Rowan.”

“Good,” Mercury replied. “There’s a good chance, given the location, that it is my rotom that was caught there. I sensed a lot of compassion in that child. Nonetheless, we should check the lab. Is there anything else?”

“Yes, actually. After rotom’s discovery was announced, about a dozen people worldwide came forward as having befriended rotoms- in ten of those cases, it was either children too young for Pokémon journeys or the elderly, and only one of them was caught and owned.”

“Worldwide?” Mercury wasn’t sure why, but he’d always assumed that rotoms were native only to Sinnoh.

“Yes. Rowan says that they might actually be very common. After all, they can turn invisible and tend to avoid people.”

The two touched down at the Eterna City building, and once inside, Mercury peeled back two sheets of wallpaper to reveal a laboratory filled with strange equipment. Strangely enough, there were five orange appliances sitting in the middle of the room- a washing machine, a freezer, a microwave, a lawnmower, and a fan.

Mercury made a beeline for the appliances. He checked them thoroughly for rotom's face. Instead, what he found were labels stating that Charon had made these to sell to professional battlers, hoping that, since he alone knew how to create forms they could inhabit, he could have a monopoly on them. How Charon had come upon that ability was beyond Mercury, and the greedy way he intended to use it disgusted him. If his plan had gone through, then rotom would have been known as troublesome exotic pets for professional trainers. If Mercury had made these forms, he would have made something with a great deal more stimulation- something more complicated.

"Phones."

Saturn looked up from the adorable journal he'd become engrossed in. "What?"

Mercury passed by Saturn, a familiar fire in his eyes, and made a took to the secret room's landline. He dialed a number and picked up. "Is this Samson Oak? You're in the habit of helping with experimental technology, right? I want to make poryphones, but with rotoms. Yes, I know we don't know how common they are. Yes, I think they'd behave- such a form would offer them enough stimulation to keep their behaviour under control. My name? I'm a person who knows about rotoms and technology. That's all you have to know. Mhm. Yes. Understood. That should be doable."

Mercury turned to Saturn, that wild determination still in him. "Saturn. I know I need to keep a low profile. But if one could make phones that rotoms could possess, they wouldn't need to hide away anymore, and so many lonely children could find a friend in them. It would take a lot of loneliness out of the world. It would also make the company a lot of money."

Saturn nodded. This was the version of Cyrus he was used to seeing- one that would do anything for his goal. "We'll figure something out to keep your name off the project."

Mercury turned to a window in the lab, which had a rotom-sized hole broken in it. "I think we can assume my rotom escaped. Let's go home."

The two flew back home, where the two female commanders were winding down for the night. Mercury gathered them together and explained his goal. "Samson Oak is skeptical, but he is willing to put a few rotoms in pokédexes if I can make a special motor small enough and can find a few willing rotoms. The motor part will not be difficult, and I know where rotoms tend to dwell and how to attract them. Catching I will need your help with, however. Mars?"

Mars was going to say yes. But from behind Mercury, Saturn locked eyes with her and shook his head.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have exams coming up.”

"Very well." Mercury turned to Saturn. “Saturn?”

“You know how busy I am with the company.”

Mercury grit his teeth. Jupiter was a muscled, fearsome-looking woman. She was hardly the best choice for this, but-

“I'm not doing it, either," Jupiter said.

“I honestly think you’re the best person for this,” Saturn said. “After all, you’re the one who knows about these little guys, and something must have attracted them to you.”

“I was an innocent child then. That was before I spent most of my life attempting to become as intimidating and repellent as possible to keep people away.”

Saturn shrugged. “Fair enough. I guess rotom phones will just stay a dream, then.”

Mercury grumbled. But he accepted it. The next day, he went to a pawn shop to look for a device rotoms would find interesting, settled on a twenty-year-old desktop computer, bought it, and left it at Sendoff Spring- a location people seldom visited. His next stop was to the Veilstone Department Store, where he stocked up on ultra balls and purchased a thunder stone. In the trophy garden, he was able to catch a pikachu with the lightning rod ability that was willing to help temporarily in exchange for evolution. Then, there was nothing to do but hope a rotom took the bait.

Mercury checked the computer twice a day. For the first few, it was untouched. On the third day, he arrived at Sendoff Spring and found it cherry-red and floating in mid-air. The grass rustled as he stepped closer, and the computer immediately dropped to the ground and lost its red colour.

There was a chance that this wasn't a rotom- there was no way of knowing that shiny rotoms were red, after all- but Mercury couldn't imagine what else it could be. He sat down about ten feet away from the computer, pulled out a book, and waited to see if it would return.

Ten minutes later and from the corner of his eye, Mercury saw a bright streak of yellow electricity pass from one patch of tall grass to another. It passed again to a patch nearer the computer as Mercury stayed still. The spark moved again, and the computer turned red. Satisfied, Mercury readied a pokéball.

And then a big, red, robot-like creature rose out of the tall grass and launched a thunderbolt at Mercury. He had to roll out of the way. Mercury stood up and faced the creature. It was a rotom, and it had rearranged the computer's structures to make itself as large as possible. It was as big as a man, with sharpened circuit board-claws. It launched another thunderbolt, which Mercury narrowly dodged, sparks singing holes in his jacket.

Mercury took out the raichu in time to draw in the next thunderbolt. After it took a few more shots at Mercury only to have its bolts redirect harmlessly to the raichu's tail, the rotom buzzed in frustration and attempted to ram into him. Mercury dodged and it went careening into a nearby tree.

Was that iron head? Fascinating. Perhaps this form is a steel-type? I didn't know forms could come with physical moves. Mercury, focus!

“You’re trying to scare me away, aren’t you?” Mercury asked calmly as the rotom recovered. It was all dented now, and many parts of it had fallen to the ground, making it look almost pitiful. “That isn’t going to work.”

Mercury slowly stepped towards the creature, prompting more shocks that the raichu dutifully absorbed. “You’re an independent creature. I couldn’t force you to stay with me if I wanted to,” Mercury said matter-of-factly. “But together, we could make life more pleasant for both our kinds. You deserve better than a life spent hiding from others by scaring them away.”

The rotom seemed to consider this. Then, it seemed to square up with the raichu and looked Mercury in the eyes. Most likely it had seen other species of Pokémon fight trainers before being caught.

"Should we battle, as a proper trainer and wild Pokémon?"

The rotom nodded slightly and shed its broken shell, returning to spark form.

Mercury backed up to ensure enough space, then threw out his crobat along with Betty, whom Saturn had lent him in hopes that having both a friendship evolution and a trade evolution would reflect well on him.

"Crobat, sludge bomb. Betty, flash cannon,” Mercury ordered, and the two Pokémon began their ranged attacks.

The rotom took to weaving through the beams of light and balls of sludge as it sent out damaging sparks of its own. Mercury watched its condition carefully. Catching was always a bit troublesome, as one couldn't go too hard and make the Pokémon faint. When the time was right, Mercury threw an ultraball.

It hit. The rotom entered the ball. It shook once, twice, three times, and then clicked shut.

I actually did it.

Mercury knelt down, picked up the ball, and held it against his chest.

I can't wait to bring you home to the other commanders and show you what people can be.

[worksinprogress1]

The lost one struggled against his restraints. If he had anything resembling a heart, it would have been beating out of his chest. Behind him was the sound of the angel sharpening her sawblade. The lost one may no longer remember his former life, his name, or even the name of the lost one settlement he'd been plucked from, but he remembered one thing: the angel was dangerous.

The angel's high heels clacked against the floor as she came closer, moving slowly. Perhaps, the lost one thought, she was savouring the moment, watching him squirm. She began humming a little tune as she lowered the blade to the lost one's chest.

And that's when the lost one's life flashed before his eyes.

---

"So if they make it through all of the bases, that's called a home run?" Norman asked as he clung to his dad and the horse trotted along under them.

"That's right. And we used to watch the games in these big buildings called 'stadiums,' or listen to them on the radio. It was fun."

"When you get us out of here, can we go to a baseball game?"

"It'll be the first thing we do once we have money."

Norman snuggled into his dad's back. He usually had so many questions about the world beyond the commune, but at the moment he was fresh out of them, and apparently, his dad was fresh out of important explanations. Norman thought back on his father's explanations to try and come up with some more.

In the real world, when you own something, no one's allowed to take it away just because they thought someone else could use it more.

In the real world, a single accusation wouldn't end your life that quickly. We have courts that demand evidence. And the death penalty's rare.

In the real world, we aren't ruled by a single leader who claims to be chosen by God. We have leaders of cities, states, and countries, and we're allowed to talk smack about them and vote them out. Which is good because they still have too much power.

"Why do people in the real world let the leaders have too much power?" Norman asked. "Aren't they better than us?"

"No, they're made of the same stuff the people in here are. Look, I've explained a lot to you, but just assume that there's an unspoken 'but it's not that simple and there are still problems out there,' after every sentence, got it?"

"Got it."

The two arrived at the trapping grounds, which were about an hour's horse ride out from the commune. Norman's dad dismounted from the horse and tied it up as Norman slid off. The two got out their knives and set to work collecting rabbits and re-setting traps. Frost was melting off the plants as the sun rose, and as they worked, they talked. Out here, they could talk about whatever they wanted.

Just as they finished up, Norman spotted something: on a distant hill was a brown horse tied to a tree. The horse they'd ridden in on was black. At the distance, it was hard to tell if it was one of the commune's horses, but they were over five days' ride out from anywhere else, and there was no reason for anyone else to be there except to spy on them.

"Dad," Norman whispered. "Someone is here."

Norman's dad nodded. They would be quiet for the rest of the trip.

The lost one remembered feeling calm at the time, secure because he could tell his father felt safe so long as they took precautions. But the memory brought him devastation. It was days later that his father would be banished for corruption of a youth, and Norman never saw him again.

---

Norman had been mopping up muddy boot tracks on the corner store's linoleum floor when the clock struck five. He started mopping harder and faster so Elizabeth wouldn't be waiting for him. When he was finished and the mop put away, he met her at the front door and they headed out into the brightly-lit evening city.

"Not such a bad place to work, huh?" Elizabeth asked, smiling brightly.

"Not bad at all," Norman said. It had been very interesting seeing so many people come and go that day. Norman could see their faces calculating a thousand choices, most of them difficult. He and Elizabeth had joined the world at a bad time, it seemed. Something called "The Great Depression" had left a lot of people destitute. A whole lot of people had a whole lot less than their menial jobs and a family member to stay with.

The two got home to Liz's aunt's apartment. It was a nice place- homey. He’d heard that it wasn’t normal for a New York home to have so many crystals and dried herbs, but having just escaped the cult last week, he had little sense of what was normal out here, and if gaining one would keep him from appreciating little things like that, maybe he didn’t want one.

The two helped the older woman prepare dinner and ate together.

"I'm going to take a walk. See what i can find in the city," Norman announced once they were done.

“Can I come with you?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sure,” Norman said, unsurprised. He could see that she was attracted to him. She’d been rather nervous to be with him before because they didn’t have a choice. But now that they did…

The two set out to see what they could see. They went to a bakery, a bookstore, a pawn shop, and then heard whispers of a 'speakeasy' and decided to see what that was. They ended up ducking into what looked like a residential house but was full of people dancing, drinking, and laughing. Norman had never seen anything like it before. For a moment, he just stood there, people-watching. Joy and freedom were in the air.

"Wanna join them?" Elizabeth asked, pulling on Norman's arm.

"Why not?" Norman replied.

The two melted into the crowd. They passed by a couple of ladies making out, and Norman decided that he might as well give his own love life a shot.

"You know, I never wanted to be betrothed to you, because I don't want you to have to be with me, but... now that it's our choice, would you like to try dating?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said, her green eyes lighting up as they met his.

The two made out in plain view of the partygoers. In the middle of so many oddball people, they fit right in.

The lost one remembered Elizabeth's love. It had lasted him a good, long time.

---

"And this is the music department," Mr. Drew said, leading Norman into a new set of bright, yellow-coloured hallways, "Can you imagine cartoons without music? I certainly wouldn't want to!" The two walked past a number of offices- one with a "deadline looming, do not disturb," sign on it- as Joey rambled about the importance of music to put some soul into cartoons. Before they knew it, they'd reached the end of a hallway, which culminated in a double door with the words "recording studio," painted across it in whimsical font. "And here's where the magic happens," he said, "And, conveniently enough, where you'll be working!"

Joey opened the door to reveal a number of musicians noisily playing their instruments. A red-haired, tired-looking older man was waiting for them. Norman could tell he was eager to see them and bored out of his mind.

"Alright, Vince," Joey said to the man. "Show Norman here the ropes and you can leave your role as projectionist behind and join the writing department. I'll leave you to it." Ah, that was why he was bored- he was a creative type in a not-so-creative job. No mysteries to this one.

Vince and Norman exchanged introductions, and Vince took Norman up to the projection booth. He guided Norman as he ran the film through the reels of the camera as the music department was in swing.

"I suppose I should be thanking you for taking the job off my hands," Vince said. "It's mindless work once you get a knack for it."

Norman nodded. "I hope writing suits you better."

He looked out at the crowd of musicians. He could see a lot of hidden crushes and a lot of hidden grudges. It looked like there'd be some fun drama in this place. That was another thing the lost one remembered now: he'd been incredible at reading people, to the point of considering it a power of his. It had certainly given him some entertainment over the years.

But Norman also sensed that a lot of the people below him were unhappy. Strained. Crushed. Up until then, the bright creative culture of the studio was making Norman wonder if Grant's cautionings about the place were overblown. Now, he could see Grant's point.

---

"Do you want to know something else about Joey Drew?" Norman asked Grant, grinning as he sipped from his golden finch coffee mug. Inside, his daughter Olivia was having a play date with Grant's two daughters.

"What?" Grant asked, an owlish excitement on his face. Grant loved hearing secrets about Joey. They took a bit of mystery from the man and made him less intimidating to him.

"Him and Sammy."

Grant stared at him, wide-eyed and skeptical.

"No joke, I've seen Sammy comin' out of Joey's office all flushed and showing all the signs of shame and fear and lust."

Grant laughed. "Well, I don't want to say it, but..."

"They deserve each other? I suppose they do."

Grant nodded. "It's hard to believe that someone with as much pride as Sammy would put up with someone like that. But then, with what you've told me about him... the inside really doesn't match the outside, now does it?"

"It absolutely does not. Anyhow, you're still having Shawn and Lacie over to for poker tonight, right?"

"Definitely. I can't wait for you to meet them."

"Daddy, look what I made!"

Olivia handed Norman a beautiful watercolour painting of a horse. Norman had studied a little art for his daughter's sake, but even the most naive person on earth could have seen the skill that went into it. Later on, he'd tell her what she'd done wrong and right with the anatomy and shading and whatnot, but for now, he didn't want to take her away from her playmates for too long.

"Good girl. I'll take a closer look at it later," he said, handing it back to her.

---

The halls of the studio had been dim that night. Ink oozed from the pipes and seemingly the very walls like a fungus, staining mosaics created by their artists and posters that had once contained positive messages like, "work hard, work happy." This place used to have at least the appearance of an almost saccharinely friendly workplace. Now, it was downright eerie. Filled with the same energy as Norman's childhood community. He hated it.

Norman had stayed late that night. Why? Simple. Sammy Lawrence had stayed late as well, despite the music department experiencing a rare moment in which it was well ahead of schedule with no work that could have been done early. Norman had already strongly suspected that Sammy was up to something. Anyone could have seen that Sammy had been very off lately, moreso than ever. And Norman could sense a great pain, guilt, and fear weighing on him. Like he'd killed someone and would have to again.

Norman was going to find out what Sammy was doing. He had to. He turned the corner towards Sammy's office, and suddenly felt a large metal object hit him hard and repeatedly on the head and jaw.

When Norman woke up, he was bound, gagged, blindfolded, and lying on the floor, covered in ink. Next to him was what was presumably another person, inadvertently rubbing against Norman as they squirmed and attempted to speak. No more than an hour later, Norman began to hear ink-covered boots sloshing against the ink-covered ground.

"Sheep, sheep, sheep, it's time for sleep," came the smooth and charismatic voice of Sammy Lawrence.

Norman attempted to get himself upright. An axe dug through his side. The axe slashed again and again at his torso as Norman rose unsteadily to his feet. Another slash and he fell, hitting his head and going unconscious.

That had been the last moment he'd been human, the lost one realized.

---

Norman came back to, still tied to the gurney. Alice used the saw in a circular motion on his chest. His instincts told him to be afraid of being pierced, but strangely enough, its contact was only uncomfortable, like pieces of him were being stretched too far as Alice made way for whatever it was she was doing. She took a knife and sawed through his neck, cutting off his vision and throwing the amputated head onto the floor, where it landed with a splat. He could feel her attaching wires into him and putting something that felt hard, cold, and circular onto his chest. Finally, she gave him an electric shock, and he could feel his new mechanical parts come to life. Norman could see again. She threw a lever and undid his restraints. He reached for his head and found… oh. A projector.

"There. Perfect,” Alice said, stepping towards him. “Do you trust me now that I've made you the fastest and strongest lost one in the studio? I know that you wouldn’t have agreed to this on your own.”

Norman’s mind was swimming. Why would she do this? Loneliness? Genuine benevolence? He wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially to such a dangerous person. He attempted to thank her, but only a small, low, gurgling roar came out.

“That’s a good little mindless pawn. Now, are you going to stay near me and keep all the other nasties away?”

No, Norman thought. He had a lost one settlement to get back to. He began to wander out, taking a quick look back at Alice to see that she was smiling with satisfaction, blind to the fact that he had his mind back, however temporarily. He wandered out.

The halls Norman emerged into were ones he’d never seen before- Alice must have knocked him out quite a ways from here. Where was the lost one settlement he’d been tasked with protecting? He didn’t remember. It was like his memory was a leaky cup.

He had to find them, Norman thought as he began searching the unfamiliar halls. And he had to remember all the names he’d already forgotten once.

Apollo Polk. Elizabeth Polk. Shauna Polk. Grant Cohen. Olivia Polk. Susie Campbell. Sammy Lawrence. Shawn Flynn. Lacie Benton.

Apollo. Elizabeth. Shauna. Grant. Olivia. Susie. Sammy. Shawn… who was that last one?

At some point during his trek, he'd ended up lost. His lost one settlement was somewhere lower down- he knew it. But after going down a few levels, he couldn't find any more stairs that went downwards. Had he been down this hallway before? With the projector now permanently fused to his head, the lost one could illuminate dark hallways. Had it been dark where he came from? He didn't remember.

Some time into his wandering, Norman found a tape recorder containing his voice. He kept it with him. He had to remember who he was, even if that was all he remembered.

Sometime later, the lost one realized that he had a tape recorder in his hand and had a vague idea that it was important. Why? He couldn’t remember. He was wandering. Why? He couldn’t remember. But he knew it was important.

The lost one wandered, killed, and forgot until one day, a thin, one-eyed man came into his territory with humanoid abominations made of wires and tubes. The lost one fought. He killed several of them. But in the end, he was dragged off, incapacitated, and left to lay immobile and suffering.

---

“He’s waking up!” came a female voice that Norman didn’t recognize. Norman pried open his eyes, shielding them from the overhead light with his…

His hand. His hand was no longer thin and black. It was sketchy, like any ink creature’s, but it was the same long, scarred, hand and long, thick forearm he’d had as a human. Norman sat up to see the woman crouched down next to him.

“My name is Audrey,” the woman said. “I put you through the machine to give you your mind and body back. Did it work? Do you remember anything?”

It was then that Norman saw the people waiting for him at the door. Alice Angel was there, but her smile looked like that of Susie Campbell. With her were inky versions of Grant, Shawn, and Lacie.

“Yes,” Norman said. “Yes, I remember everything.”

[worksinprogress1]

"I'll find the secrets of the Distortion World, create the new world, and then it will all have been worth it. I am capable of this," Cyrus repeated for what had to be the thousandth time in a row as he trekked across another barren island. His throat was sore. "Crobat, speak," he commanded, and the bat began to squeak, fending off the maddening silence.

Cyrus wasn't sure he believed his mantra anymore, but the Distortion World offered few other options. He'd tried to leave. It was impossible. And because no time passed here and thus no wounds healed, a failed suicide attempt would mean unending agony. So there was nothing to do but press on. To deny the horrifying reality that this place really was empty and his goal hopeless.

In a flash of purple light, Giratina appeared before Cyrus.

Cyrus looked up to the creature with dull eyes as it glowered down at him.

You wish to be gone from here, the creature stated. You know that if you return, you will most likely be imprisoned for life. You will have no chance of attaining power, let alone the power you seek. The world will remain unchanged until the day you die. So. Why do you want to leave?

Cyrus' heart rate picked up. This creature could read thoughts and had no doubt seen how the silence was driving him mad and how he'd relied on his crobat to keep a modicum of sanity. "This isn't fair to my Pokémon," he said.

Giratina's eyes gleamed and its tentacles flared out menacingly. Try again, it said calmly.

Cyrus squeezed his eyes shut. "I. I... can't take this anymore." The silence. The monotony. Even in prison, he would be able to interact with other beings. Time would behave normally again, and he'd be able to see the sky and feel the...

There was grass beneath his feet. Cyrus opened his eyes and found himself outside of a cave overlooking a lake, his crobat at his side.

---

Saturn had been at work in his office when his secretary called him down to the Veilstone building’s entrance.

A small crowd of ex-grunts had gathered at the entrance, and at the center of it all was Cyrus, scratched up but just as calm and self-assured as he had the day Giratina had dragged him to the Distortion World.

“Where have you been?” asked one of the workers.

“Does this mean there’s going to be a Team Galactic again?” asked another.

“You will receive your answers in time,” Cyrus assured them. Then, he noticed Saturn.

For a second, the two men were stunned and could only stare at each other. Saturn had imagined this scenario a hundred times, but the real deal could be dangerous. Saturn shook himself awake and made his way through the crowd.

“Come with me to my office,” Saturn said firmly.

Once they were there, Saturn locked the door, dialed Officer Jenny’s number on his rotary phone, put a hand onto one of his pokéballs, and looked Cyrus in the eye. “What do you want?” he asked, voice laced with caution.

“I don’t know,” Cyrus admitted.

Saturn let go of the pokéball. “You don’t know?”

“I didn’t plan on coming out of the Distortion World empty-handed, so I don’t know what my next move is. But I know there isn’t going to be a new world. There simply isn’t a way to create it. There is no use for Team Galactic anymore, so you’ve done me a favour by disbanding it.”

Saturn felt as though a massive weight had been taken off his shoulders. “Thank Arceus. I thought you might be here to start Team Galactic up again. We have a lot to catch up on. You might as well sit down.”

And so they did. It was strange to be looking across at Cyrus from behind what was once his desk, knowing that, he had nothing to his name but Saturn’s mercy.

“So,” Saturn began, “Remember how we thought we could go completely mask-off on Mount Coronet because we were leaving this world behind? Well, after that didn’t happen, I was the one left to pick up the pieces. I blamed everything I could on Charon to keep Mars, Jupiter and as many grunts as I could out of prison. Law enforcement was doing thorough weekly checks on this place for months to make sure I would run this place legitimately, but they’re finally leaving us alone. I also employed as many ex-grunts as I could. Not like they’d have an easy time of things otherwise. A lot of them have criminal records now and had alienated their friends and families. Things are getting better, but there was a lot of damage to undo.”

“It sounds as thought you’ve done very well. Thank you for trying to undo Team Galactic’s damages.”

The remorse surprised Saturn. Maybe, just maybe, things between them could go back to the way they were. “Thanks. Cyrus, if you could do it all again, would you?”

“No. My intent was to create a better world, not to waste years being another source of pain and strife in this one.”

“Would you if there was a chance you could succeed?”

Cyrus hesitated. “Yes. If there was even the smallest chance of it, it would be right.”

Saturn sighed. “You know, after you were declared dead, I found your private notes while clearing out your home. I know exactly what you were going to do to the world. I know this project was everything to you, and it was what you thought was best for the world. But... after you disappeared, people were speculating that Giratina was helping you reshape the universe the way he tried to help Volo all those years ago. I was terrified that they were right. You don’t know what it’s like to worry that at any moment you could lose the capacity to love, or care about, or enjoy anything. But more than that, I felt betrayed that you would disregard my free will like that. And then I realized… that’s what all of Team Galactic wanted to do to everyone. Take away their autonomy. It was wrong. All of it was. If you could do it all again, would you still lie to me?” Saturn's voice wasn’t angry in the slightest, just very somber.

“If I had told you, that would have done nothing but cause you unneeded distress. I don’t understand why humanity is so attached to its suffering, but I would not let that petty attachment keep me from ending it. So yes, I would hide my plans from those unable to understand them. But… it was not my intent to frighten you, or to leave you to pick up the pieces.” Cyrus looked away. “I’m sorry, Saturn.”

Saturn wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“If you could turn back time to when I made you my first recruit to Team Galactic, what would you have done?” Cyrus asked.

“I think... if I could talk to the person you were back then, I would have tried to talk you out of it. I don’t mean yelling platitudes after you like Cynthia. I mean as a concerned friend.”

The mutual disappointment was palpable as a silent moment stretched out between the two men. Saturn wondered if things could ever be normal between them again, or if they should be.

“Look, I do want to help you. But a lot of people are recovering from Team Galactic, so it’s going to have to be on my terms. You being around could hurt their progress if we’re not careful.”

“What are your terms?

“We’ll figure that out. We’ll see how it goes when you meet Mars.” Saturn got up. “I have a meeting, and then we can go see her. Stay there and don’t answer the door. The fewer ex-grunts that see you before we decide what to do, the better.”

With that, Saturn left.

The focus on Mars confused Cyrus. Then, he realized: Mars, more than anyone, would be determined for things to go back to the way things were. No one in Team Galactic had worshipped him more than her. No one had wanted to see the new world as badly- maybe not even Cyrus himself. And no one that he knew of had had less to go back to. Seeing him again only to find out he was useless would be salt in her wounds.

Saturn arrived back after the meeting and took Cyrus to a nice house on the edge of Veilstone.

“Here it is. Home of the ex-commanders,” Saturn said as they approached it.

“The four of you live together?”

“Not Charon- he’s in prison. But yeah. It’s unconventional, but it works for us.”

Saturn opened the door. “Mars?” he called out, “We have a surprise for you.”

Mars appeared at the top of the stairwell. As soon as she saw Cyrus, her eyes lit up like child’s on Christmas Day. She was stunned for all of half a second before she scampered down and squeezed Cyrus tight.

“You’re back! Oh my gosh, we thought you were dead!”

Cyrus’ heart sank at the thought of having to kill all that joy and hope. “Let go of me,” he said.

Mars did as she was asked. “Right, personal space. I just- I don’t know what to say!”

Cyrus looked her dead in the eyes, severely enough to wipe the smile from her face. “Mars. I want to make something very clear to you. I searched high and low in the Distortion World for a way to create a new universe, but there was nothing. There will be no new universe and I will not be reviving Team Galactic.”

Mars smiled again and nodded. “Good.”

Cyrus blinked. He was prepared to stand strong as she begged him to restart the team and research a different path to his new world, or to watch as he became dead to his most fervent supporter and she found someone else to worship. He was not expecting… this. 

“I don’t think you understood me. I’m not your leader anymore. I can’t provide anything for you.”

Mars chuckled. “No, you didn’t understand me. I’m glad that you’ll be leaving that behind. It wasn’t a good way to live.”

There were a few moments of silence as Cyrus tried to process what she was saying.

“Come on. I’m going to explain to you what happened after you left. I’ll go get Jupiter.”

Saturn led Cyrus into their living room as Mars and Jupiter gathered in it, too.

“We all went looking for you after Giratina dragged you away,” Mars started, “We thought there might be some way of getting to the Distortion World on Mount Coronet or in Sendoff Spring. When that didn’t happen, Jupiter and Saturn gave up. But... well, I’m not stupid. I knew that back when you were here, we were all just doing whatever would get us closer to our goal. You recruited me because I was useful. So I thought once there wasn’t a Team Galactic, the commanders wouldn’t be my family anymore. I didn’t have anyone else. So I searched every bit I could of Mount Coronet until I got lost. And then, one day, Saturn and Jupiter found me crying deep in its caves. They’d come looking for me even though Team Galactic was gone. Do you remember what you told me when you first recruited me, Cyrus? Back when I was thirteen and living on the streets?”

“I don’t see how it’s relevant, but yes. I told you that you’d been strong for too long, and that you wouldn’t have to be strong much longer. My apologies for giving you false hope.”

“No, you were right. You guys helped me to sort my life out. It was the first time in a while I’d had people to rely on. It just took getting lost in Mount Coronet for me to believe that they weren’t just using me. After Saturn and Jupiter found me, they promised that we’d stick together and help each other move on. And we did. I tried contests for a while, and it was fun, but I couldn’t make it big with them, so now I’m going to go into social work. I still want to make the world a better place, even if I can’t solve the world’s problems in one fell swoop like we wanted to.”

The last time Cyrus had seen Mars, she’d been a mean, vicious, theatric little commander and was still essentially a child in his eyes. She’d aged, what? Two years, maybe less, while he stagnated in the Distortion World, but all he could see in her now was a grown woman. “You’ve matured so much,” was all he could think to say.

“Thanks. And that brings us to you. I knew that if you ever came back, you’d need our help, too. I know what it’s like to think that the world is a rotten, irredeemable place, and Team Galactic let us think that it was okay to wallow in that because we had something else to hope for. But closing your eyes to everything good in the world wasn’t a good way to live, especially once there's nothing else to hope for anymore. You aren’t an exception because you founded the team. So I had the other commanders agree that, if you came back and it was safe, we’d help you like they helped me.”

Cyrus was dumbstruck. He was useless to the ex-commanders. He couldn’t give them what he’d promised and by the sounds of things they didn’t even want it anymore. And yet, all three of them had agreed... “You wanted me to come back empty-handed because you thought it was best for me. You… want to help me because…”

Cyrus looked to Jupiter, who he’d previously thought he was just a paycheck to, and Saturn, who minutes before he’d thought he was dead to.

“Because we care about you, dumbass,” Jupiter finished for him.

Cyrus blinked away tears. “Saturn. You said there were terms to this. What are they?”

“I don’t know. The plan was to come up with them once we figured out where you were. Let’s the three of us talk about it,” Saturn said. With that, the three ex-commanders left for another room.

Some time later, the trio returned. “Alright. Here are the terms. First, I’m not giving you back the company. Having you as any kind of leader isn't what the ex-grunts need right now.”

Cyrus nodded. He'd assumed as much.

“Second, therapy.”

“I don’t need-”

“You spent over half a decade plotting to destroy the world because you were miserable in it,” Jupiter pointed out.

“Yeah,” Saturn agreed. “And this isn’t a slight against you. We’ve all had therapy, because we left a cult. And these terms are non-negotiable. Take it or leave it.”

“…I will if I must.”

“Alright. Thirdly, I need you to promise me complete honesty and transparency. No more secrets. If I ask you a question, you answer it. Can you promise me that?”

“I promise. Thank you for giving me this chance.”

“Alright!” Jupiter chimed in. “Now, this isn’t a term, more of a plan, but since Looker already thinks us ex-commanders are harmless, here’s what we were thinking: Mars gives you a new look, and we pass you off as an ex-commander. You could be an engineer at Galactic Corps. And hey, that means that you and I could work together.”

“And since ex-grunts thankfully aren’t the brightest,” Saturn added, “we can tell the ex-grunts who saw you today that you were impersonating Cyrus to try and start Team Galactic up again, but I made you see reason.”

“That’s a excellent plan,” Cyrus said. “The best lies are mostly truth, after all.”

Soon, Cyrus was in front of the mirror, examining Mars’ handiwork on his shorter, smoother-edged, maroon-coloured hair as the other two commanders tried to come up with a new name for him.

“Mercury is kind of the last planet name available that doesn’t sound ridiculous,” Saturn pointed out, “otherwise, we’re going to have to look at comets or moons or something. What do you think, Cyrus?”

“Mercury... Ex-commander Mercury,” Cyrus said the name slowly as if to taste it. It was... suitable, he supposed. It made it sound as though he was one of them, not separate from them as Charon had been. “I think that’s what I’d like to be called.”

Cyrus had liked his old name. He’d been named after two symbols of power, independence, and importance: the sun and his heroic ancestor Cyllene. From the age of twelve, he'd hoped to live long enough to embody that name- to push through his pain, need no one, and succeed for himself and no one else.

But this name would allow him to have a family and experience everything he'd missed while in the Distortion World. Even if it took a lifetime, he'd earn this name, too.

[worksinprogress1]

Mars staggered backward from the force of the living shadow phasing through the floor, taking her master with it. Before she could think to do anything, Cynthia and the child who had given Team Galactic no small amount of grief climbed into the portal the monster had left behind. Mars sprinted after them.

"Mars! Stop!" came Saturn’s voice through her earpiece. Mars forced herself to stop and listen. "This is a general announcement. No one goes in the portal for now. Our Pokémon are wiped and we don’t know what’s in there. I’m coming with backup, healing supplies, and the portal machine. For now, just sit tight. Be ready to retreat."

Mars paced in front of the portal, heart pounding as she imagined what might be happening within it and wishing she dive in, her lack of useable Pokémon be damned. What felt like a torturous eternity later but might have only been thirty minutes, the portal closed. “We’re still going to get him out, right?” Mars asked Jupiter, who had been sitting against one of the pillars.

“I don’t know,” Jupiter admitted.

Saturn arrived soon after along with Team Galactic's mostly-untested portal machine. Almost without words, he, Jupiter, and Mars set it up as close to where they remembered the portal to be and fired it up. Swirls of purple emerged from its sides, but before they were even halfway to meeting in the center, the machine shorted out. Mars began to cry.

"It's okay," Saturn said as he checked his communication device. "We’ve got one more shot. It's said that there's a cave by a secret lake called 'Sendoff Spring' where the barrier between realms is at its weakest. Let’s go.”

Saturn ordered most of the grunts back to the Galactic base, and the commanders took off for Sendoff Spring by helicopter. On the way there, Mars caught sight of a fleet of international police helicopters coming from the east.

“Look,” she said to the others. “I think they figured out who did this.”

"I don't think the Galactic Base can hold off that many," Jupiter said as she began to lower the helicopter. "Should we call for a retreat of the base?"

"That's a good idea," Saturn replied. "They don't know how many people work for us, so there won't be a set number of arrests they're looking to place. I'll send out the order to activate the evidence destruction protocol and then book it. And we should be back there as soon as possible. If we seem compliant, they might go easy on us."

Go easy on us? Mars thought. As in, lighter sentences? Was she about to go to jail? And more importantly, would there be a Team Galactic once she got out?

The helicopter landed in the hidden clearing next to the cave. Thankfully, Sendoff Spring was both hidden and very close to Veilstone, so it was safe to fully unload the helicopter and send it off for the base along with the grunts onboard so that they could help clear away the evidence.

Even illuminated by Betty's flash, the rock walls and dirt floor of Turnback Cave appeared purple and shimmery. As they walked, Mars pressed a hand against the wall and found that they were more yielding than rock should be- like foam or rubber. If there was any place that a portal should work, this would be it.

The trio arranged the machine in the first open area they found. There was tension in the air as Saturn produced the button to activate it.

He pressed the button. The purple swirls of the portal came together much faster this time, and then the swirls opened to reveal an environment of purple sky, floating islands, and sickly plantlife. And in the distance, facing away and with his crobat at his side, Cyrus.

Already prepared this time, the trio ran in. But just as they crossed the threshold into the strange realm, a massive, wormlike Pokémon appeared and blew them back into the cave. Mars landed roughly on her back and sat up just in time to see the golden-crowned face of the Pokémon as it reached for the portal with its red-tipped shadowy tentacle and shattered it effortlessly.

For a moment, Mars was frozen in time.

"Are these...?" Jupiter’s voice came. Mars didn’t turn to see what she’d found.

"They're his pokéballs," Saturn said. "I guess whatever that thing is, it wants to keep him there." Saturn paused. "We need to go back. If we aren't the ones telling the international police our story, Charon probably will be."

“You’re right,” Jupiter replied, “and since most of the evidence should be gone, it might be our best option to pretend we knew less about Master Cyrus’ goals than we did.”

“Definitely. It’s a long shot, but if we can pin the bombings of the lakes on someone else, I might even be able to keep control of the energy company. You’d be able to work at it. Assuming that Cyrus left it to me, that is. Otherwise, we’re done for once he’s declared legally dead.”

"He's not dead!" Mars shouted, springing up to face the other two. They turned to her, rather startled by her outburst.

"Yes, but it'll probably seem that way to everyone else," Saturn reasoned.

Mars shook her head vigourously. "We can't just leave him in there! I- I'm going to Mount Coronet. There must be somewhere there that a portal will work!"

Saturn began to reach out for her. "Mars..."

"You know what?" Jupiter cut in. "Let her. I've been to military court, you've been to juvie court. We're the brains and experience when it comes to legal stuff, and disappearing for a little will protect her the same way it'll protect the grunts." Jupiter gently took Mars by the shoulders. "Look. He's probably gone. But if this is what you need to do to accept that, do it. You've got plenty of healing items on you?"

"Yes," Mars answered, wiping away a tear.

"And an escape rope?" Saturn added.

"Yes."

Saturn set the portal machine back to portable mode and handed it to her. "Alright. Best of luck. Message us if you need anything or have an update, or when you're coming back. We'll make sure the coast is clear."

"Okay."

With that, Saturn and Jupiter left Mars to her devices and faced the international police. Thankfully, the grunts had done a decent job ridding the Veilstone building of evidence. After four exhausting days of pretending to be clueless cultists and not the terrorists they were, two of which were spent being dragged between a jail cell and an interrogation room, they were able to pin the bombings on Charon. He was a natural fit for their fall guy as he’d insisted on putting his name on every project he’d so much as touched. In the end, the international police marched away with Charon in handcuffs, along with Team Galactic’s illegal weapons and seventeen grunts who'd made the mistake of hiding out in the Eterna City Building. They left Saturn and Jupiter with an appointment for their champion to decide their fates in court.

Finally able to breathe a little easier, Saturn sent out the message that the coast was clear and the grunts could return. Within half an hour, grunts began filing in. Most headed straight to the showers to wash off what was for most of them four nights on the streets. It made sense, Saturn supposed. Most of them had probably either become estranged from their former friends and families over their years in Team Galactic or hadn’t had them to begin with. Saturn and Jupiter had been sleeping in base as well.

As night fell and the number of grunts approached the number that had not been arrested, Saturn made his way to Cyrus’ quarters. It had to be cleaned out at some point, and with how busy the next few weeks would be, now was as good a time as ever. He grabbed a garbage bag and started going through Cyrus' drawers to sort between the donatable and the refuse and look for something to remember him by.

At the bottom of one of the drawers, Saturn found the corkboard Cyrus had shown him all those years ago to convince him to join. It was fuller than Saturn remembered. In particular, he'd remembered there being nothing past the creation of the new world. There were many notes past it now. Even though it was thoroughly irrelevant now, Saturn felt his heart rate pick up. A week ago, he would have killed to know what the new world would look like! He started reading the notes and-

Saturn closed his eyes and shook his head. Of course. He should have figured that's what Cyrus wanted for the new world. Saturn collected the notes and into the garbage they went.

The next day, Saturn focused his efforts on legal research. About an hour into his day, he heard a knock on his door.

“M-master Saturn…?” came a nervous male voice.

Saturn sighed. "Please don't call me that," he said. "But come in." Maybe he shouldn't have chosen to do this in Cyrus' office. There was a fine line between taking on the position of their leader, and well, that...

A freckled, round-faced grunt opened the door and came in. His rank was C-0 and he was holding an open book. “I think I found something you’d be interested in,” he said nervously but professionally as he laid the book down on the table. “It says here that long ago, there was a man named Volo who befriended the same Pokémon that took Master Cyrus. It wanted to remake the universe with the human's help. In other words, maybe the Pokémon is helping Cyrus to make the new universe right now.”

Saturn paused and considered his next words carefully. "Thank you," he said. "Please don't tell anyone about this. You could be right, but it's best to act as though he's gone, and if others find out, it might make them reckless."

"Yes, sir," the grunt said.

Saturn returned to the documents he'd been looking over. A few seconds later, he realized that the grunt was lingering. Wearily, Saturn looked up at him. "Yes?"

The grunt looked down sheepishly. "Um, sir, I know that clefaries are usually for B-ranks and above, but um, for our next mission, I was wondering if I could use one?"

'Next mission.' Dear Arceus. "Go ahead," Saturn said, taking out a piece of scrap paper to write the grunt special permission. "Take any Pokémon you want from the menagerie right now. You don't have to wait for a mission." Saturn handed the scrap over. "There you go, C-dash- Wait." Saturn looked to the grunt. If they weren't a terrorist organization anymore, he ought to start treating these people like individuals. "What's your name?"

"C-dash-zero," the grunt said without hesitation.

Saturn sighed. "Okay. You're dismissed."

"Okay! Thank you!"

With that, the grunt thankfully left. Saturn locked the door behind him. Aside from the court case, he had an announcement planned for that night. One he'd have to deliver to a group of people who were desperate to see him fill Cyrus' shoes, for excitement, dynamic speeches, a new master, and a new plan to leave this world and the consequences of their actions behind- expectations Saturn couldn’t fulfill.

Time passed, and Saturn found his attention wavering from legal matters to the book the C-0 had left behind. To Saturn's dismay, the theory made sense: Giratina had wanted to overthrow Arceus less than two centuries ago and had attempted it alongside another human who had wanted to create a new world. According to the historical document, Volo had written in his journal that once circumstances were right, Giratina thought it would take a mere week to restart the universe. It was sick. But there was nothing Saturn could do about it.

The evening came, and the grunts piled into the auditorium. Saturn took to the podium with Jupiter standing on stage beside him, just as the commanders had once attended Cyrus.

"Everyone," Saturn began, causing the crowd to mostly quiet down. "I'm sure you've all heard by now about the loss of our leader. While tragic, and while we will be planning a funeral ceremony for him, that's not what tonight is about. The next few weeks will determine our fate as an organization as well as how many of us will stay out of jail. We need to convince the international police that we intend to become a law-abiding organization. For that reason, we need to make some changes. From now on, we call each other by name. There is a stack of name tags at the back of the auditorium, and at the end of this announcement, I want all of you to take one and choose what you want to be called. It can be anything but your rank. We won't be wearing uniforms anymore, either."

Saturn looked down his prepared speech. He'd written that Mars would give them new haircuts, hoping that she’d be back by now. She was still gone, and probably still on Mount Coronet.

"Does anyone here know how to cut hair?" Saturn asked the audience. Three women and one man raised their hands. "You four, report to room 16-F first thing tomorrow with the appropriate tools,” Saturn ordered. “Everyone else, report there and line up to get your hair cut to any style that isn't the one you have now."

Saturn could feel his throat tighten up, and it wasn’t just because of the anxious chatter that had filled the crowd. Either Mars had been on Mount Coronet for four days or she'd abandoned the team. A horrible thought occurred to him: if Cyrus really was in the process of restarting the world and it really would take a week, that would mean the end would be... oh. The day after tomorrow. His knees felt ready to give out from under him.

"...Largely, I want you to keep doing what you're doing. Extraction teams, keep extracting. Research teams, keep researching, but focus your efforts on energy, not myth. Basically, if your job didn't involve breaking the law, keep doing what you're doing for now. Otherwise, sit tight. I'll be having meetings with your team leaders over the coming days to figure out what you'll be doing."

Saturn finished off the speech with some words of encouragement, reading right off the page because it was all he could do. Jupiter was shooting him a concerned look, and the crowd continued to chatter. This was not what they'd wanted to hear, and they didn’t want to see their new leader looking so green, and he knew it. His thoughts spun as he imagined how desperate and abandoned Mars must have felt right then.

If that C-0 was right, that's the last thing she'll ever feel.

Before Saturn knew it, the crowd was dispersing at his order. Saturn thanked Jupiter and then immediately took off for the commanders' favourite bar, where he drank himself into oblivion.

The first thing Saturn was aware of the next morning was his pounding headache. He opened his eyes and spotted women's underwear on the floor. Saturn squeezed his eyes shut, groaned, and rolled over, thankfully not finding anyone in bed with him. Gradually, he brought himself to face the rest of the room. An entire female wardrobe was strewn across the floor. This wasn't his quarters, he realized- It was Jupiter's.

Jupiter came in a few minutes later. "Hey," she said curtly, handing Saturn a cup of ginger ale. "For the hangover. Don't make me drag you half-unconscious out of a bar ever again, ya doofus.”

"Thanks," Saturn said, taking the glass and taking a big drink of it to soothe his nausea. "We need to get Mars today."

Jupiter gave him a quizzical look. "Why? I mean, I didn't expect her to be gone this long, but she can handle herself, and we have a court summoning to prepare for. She'll come back when she's ready."

Saturn tried to think of a reasonable explanation, but couldn't. "No. It has to be today, and it has to be the two of us. I order it as the boss of Team Galactic."

Jupiter nodded, face serious. She might not have understood why Saturn was set on this, but she could tell it was for a reason.

Saturn and Jupiter set off for Mount Coronet immediately, Jupiter leading as they took the path she and the others had taken for the mission of the Spear Pillar. About two-thirds of the way up the mountain, they began to hear weeping. Mars' weeping. They ran towards the sound and found Mars crumpled up against a cave wall, crying and hugging her purugly. The two other commanders ran towards her. As they drew nearer, they could see that she was scraped up and that the Pokémon was bruised and too lethargic to fight.

"Why didn't you use the escape rope?" Jupiter yelled, pulling out a hyper potion from her bag and spraying it on the purugly.

Mars looked up, but couldn't gather herself enough to respond.

"You need to let him go," Saturn said, concerned.

"It's... not about him," Mars said in a small voice.

"What?"

Mars looked to Saturn, then to Jupiter. "I told you that I left Team Rocket because I hated the things they were doing, but that's not the whole story. Giovanni disappeared about a month before I left, and my brother ran two weeks after him. Before that, I'd wanted to leave, but I had too much to lose. I don't know if my dad is still alive and out of jail, and I’ve never worked a legal job or been to high school or anything. If I can't keep Team Galactic going, I don't know where I'll go."

Saturn and Jupiter stood in silence for a moment. Unfortunately, Mars was making sense- she was good at stealing, love-bombing, and cult recruitment- not exactly skills that would get her a job without a chance to build them into something more useable. She was good enough at battling to knock the two of them off their feet, but not professional-level good. She really did need someone to support her.

Saturn knelt down next to Mars. "Mars... Team Galactic or not, the three of us are going to stick together, alright? Commanders support commanders. We’ll figure something out.”

Mars finally met Saturn’s eyes.

“Please come down with us. I already lost one friend. I don’t want to lose two.”

"Okay," Mars said.

Saturn helped her up, and the trio started back down the mountain.

The next few days passed in a blur of legal preparation. The court day came, and though there were nine more grunts arrested despite the ex-commanders’ best efforts, Cynthia declared that the rest of Team Galactic would be off on probation and that Saturn's plans to turn it into a legal and worthwhile company could go forward, albeit while subject to regular police investigations to prove no wrongdoing. In the same meeting, Cynthia relayed that there were no records of anyone coming back from the Distortion World unless Giratina willed it, and as such Cyrus was declared legally dead days later and Saturn officially inherited his wealth and company.

Through all of this, Mars and Jupiter noticed that Saturn was acting strangely- as though he might lose them tomorrow. The day after the court date, Saturn left, saying he wanted to reconnect with his family, and it occurred to both female ex-commanders that he might be lying and they might not see him again. To their relief, he did come back the next day and called the two women into his office.

"I think I'm ready to tell you guys why I've been acting weird," Saturn said. "A while ago, I found out that Giratina had worked with a human to restart the world in the past. I thought that he might be working with Cyrus now, and that I might not have much time left. It was probably just a silly superstition, and it's been long enough now that I think we're safe."

"Wait," Jupiter said, "You thought that Cyrus might succeed in making the new world... and you thought that was a bad thing?"

Saturn looked the other two in the eyes. How much should he tell them? Should he let them love his memory? "Well, yes. Cyrus really didn't see much good in the world. I was scared that the new world would be a much emptier place.”

"Well, it doesn't take a genius to get rid of cancer and earthquakes," Jupiter replied, "but I get your point. He was pretty messed up. You don't join Team Galactic- or make it- if you're not."

"Hey, if he ever comes back, we're going to help him, right?" Mars asked. "He won't have anything without us. He'll be helpless just like I was."

"We'll cross that bridge if we get to it," Saturn replied. Even now, he didn’t particularly want to turn Cyrus in or turn him away with nothing. But if Cyrus came back in the near future, the remaining grunts would be lining right up for orders and promises from him. Heck, Mars and Jupiter might be, too. It would be his duty to prevent that, no matter what.

"No. Promise," Mars insisted.

"I promise that if he comes back and all three of us agree that it's safe and wise to, we'll help him," Saturn said. “And until then, we live like he’s gone for good. Alright?”

"Deal," Mars said.

Jupiter nodded. “Deal.”

[worksinprogress1]

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 many nights here, 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 rare 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. In one of the drawers, he pulled out his toolkit 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 now?"

Because I want to be friends again! 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 would like that as well," 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 and that was now too attached to live apart from him 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 went 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? Would he have, for the first time perhaps ever, no longer wanted to feel nothing?

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, Cyrus believed. 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 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 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 pulling 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!

"Yes."

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," Cyrus explained. Suddenly, 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, keep a brave face in front of Charon. 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 less refined. "Keep it out of my sight."

The pokéball exchanged hands and Cyrus left, intent on finding some work to do until dawn came. 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 group of grunts following behind him. Surrounding the screen were several smaller ones showing the images from different drones. Saturn pushed a button and the large screen’s 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. Truly, as Cyrus had prepared to ascend to godhood this 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 the past few days 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. 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 were storming 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 urging Cyrus to get help. And after Cyrus had revealed his plan, Saturn had 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. 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. This was inevitable.

A multi-coloured shroud erupted from the two Gods. The images in the video feed from every drone darkened as the shroud 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, and Cyrus was commenting on their inability to stop him.

“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 the past few 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, on 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.

[worksinprogress1]

Nemona woke to the sound of blinds being pulled back and a sudden light falling on her.

“Time to get up, mi hija,” came Geeta’s voice

Nemona blearily opened her eyes. Geeta was already dressed in another of her suits- grey this time- and looked alert and alive. This didn’t strike Nemona as surprising until she turned to the alarm clock and saw that it was 5:30 AM.

Wow, how does she do it? Nemona wondered as she rolled out of bed.

“You have fifteen minutes to shower. After that, we’ll get you styled for the day and discuss your team options over breakfast,” Geeta explained.

Not much later, Geeta was braiding Nemona’s hair into a tight, low braid and explaining the day ahead.

“The first round consists of eight battles, starting at nine and ending at seven.”

“With a one-hour time limit for each, industry standard?”

“Yes. And your battle today is against Leon, scheduled for 1 pm,” Geeta explained, twisting the ponytail elastic around the braid. Nemona liked it- she looked like Geeta’s protégé - so mature and professional. “This morning we’ll find you something suitable to wear and prepare your team. Let’s go.”

—

Geeta waited patiently as Nemona sorted through her pc boxes at the hotel’s restaurant table. If only Geeta had told her about this before, she would have prepared by now. But her feelings of failure subsided as she went through the array of creatures she’d trained over the past two treasure hunts and scribbled down the names of any particularly good candidates that crossed her sight.

Nemona looked up to Geeta. “Alright! I’ve got a list of eight candidates, listed from best to least best. First is pawmot. What do you think?”

Geeta shook her head, the gentle smile still on her face. “A Pokémon from the pikachu family is a bit underwhelming, don’t you think?”

Nemona’s enthusiasm was slightly dampened. “Well, it knows two signature moves, but pawmi is really common… Okay. How’s about lycanrock?”

Geeta shook her head again. “Same problem as the last.”

“Okay, how’s about Skeledirge? It’s big and cool-looking.”

“A starter Pokémon doesn’t seem right for a champion.”

“But… Blue and Kukui use a starter Pokémon. Leon uses two. What makes this different?”

Geeta sighed. “The leagues of the other regions already have good reputations, but the Paldea league has a lot of damage repair to do for its own. Everything we do must be perfect. That is why I adopted the image I have, and I expect you to do the same. Understood?”

“Yes! Absolutely! So, what do you think my ace should be? I’ll go with whatever you say!”

“Very well. Let me see your pc box.”

Nemona handed Geeta the tablet. Geeta took her time looking through each box, seemingly quite impressed with Nemona’s work.

“Well, ceruledge would be a good choice,” Geeta said finally. “It’s strong, noble-looking and native to Paldea. And since we don’t have a dark-type specialist in the Paldea league yet or a dark specialist champion anywhere, you could use lokix and borrow my kingambit, and we’ll use shards to turn ceruledge’s tera type to dark. How does that sound?”

Nemona smiled awkwardly. “Well.. okay. The thing is, I haven’t used either of those. Like, at all. They aren’t very well-leveled. And I’ve never really used any dark-type, and...” Nemona trailed off.

Geeta waited for her to finish.

“And... maybe I should use something I’m more familar with?”

“Sure. Let me see that list of yours.”

Nemona looked down at the list and was hit by a sudden feeling that Geeta wouldn’t like any of her choices. She stuffed it back in her pocket. “Actually, it’s fine.

“Good. And don’t worry about their level. I brought rare candy. For now, let’s worry about your outfit and their movesets.”

After breakfast, it was off to the Lillycove Department Store to figure out her new champion costume. Geeta led her straight for a locally-owned clothing store that did custom designs. It wouldn’t have stood out to most, but Nemona recognized it instantly. This was where Wallace got all his costumes made. This really was the full champion treatment! Following behind Geeta, Nemona looked to the colourful outfits on the racks, looking for inspiration. Not that she hadn’t designed about six different champion outfits for herself in her head, but she needed to choose between them somehow!

“Hello,” Geeta said to the shopkeeper, a grey-haired woman who appeared to be in her sixties. “We’re here to order an outfit for an upcoming champion.”

The woman smiled. “Excellent. Can you tell me their gender, measurements, and so on? And do you know what you would like it to look like?”

“It’s this one right here,” Geeta replied, gesturing to Nemona. “You’ll have to take her measurements. She’s a dark-type user, so I’m looking for something solid black. A floor-legnth dress, perhaps, with a jacket in a secondary colour of some sort and black accents. Do you have any suggestions for the second colour?”

The shopkeeper looked Nemona over. “Hmm... I’d say something dark mauve, to contrast her eyes."

Geeta looked to Nemona and examined her as though dressing her in her head. “Yes, I can see that. Well, let’s get the measurements done.”

Geeta put a hand around Nemona’s back and guided her to the back room, where Nemona was made to strip for measurements. It struck her that she hadn’t spoken once since getting there. But it was okay. La primera knew best. She was sure of it.

As it turned out, because Geeta was looking for something so generic, they had something very similar to it on hand. Geeta got her to try it on. The dress said “funeral.” The jacket said “boardroom.” It wasn’t the friendly, energetic image she’d dreamed of, but if this really was wrong, La Primera would notice, and if she didn’t, well, then she was right and Nemona would learn to like it.

“Hmm... something about this just isn’t right,” Geeta mused, looking Nemona over.

Finally! Nemona thought, lighting up. She knew that La Primera would see that this wasn’t right!

Geeta reached out and tugged a bit of Nemona’s bangs out of the ponytail elastic, letting it fall over one of her eyes. “There. A dark-type user should have a mysterious touch. Later we’ll get you a half-mask instead, but we’re short on time. Now, let’s go figure things out with your team.” With that, they left.

Soon, the two were heading to the arena. Geeta was right about them being short for time- it was eleven, which meant that she had two hours at best to make the connection with her new team, work out their movesets, and get on stage. Geeta led her to the practice fields behind the stadium and took a seat on the bleachers.

“There you are,” Geeta said, handing Nemona her kingambit’s pokéball and a thermas of soup laced with dark tera shards. “Now do your thing.”

Nemona had tried battling with every Pokémon type under the sun, and she loved most of them. It wasn’t that she didn’t like dark types, but, well, yeah, she didn’t like dark types. Poison types turned into total sweeties once they trust you to respect their boundaries, most ghost types were goofballs that just looked scary, but dark types... once you broke through their aloofness, you were left with creatures whose sense of playfulness was always a bit sadistic and whose reaction to a new person was “how do I stay away” or “how do I take advantage.” And their battle tactics felt like cheating. 

But La Premira wanted a dark-specialist champion and that was what she was going to get.

Nemona took a deep breath and started rummaging through her bag for the pokéballs containing ceruledge and lokix. She found them along with the baggies of rare candy and the dark shard soup Geeta had prepared, and released the trio. The lokix and kingambit glared at her briefly before respectively hopping and hair-gliding off to do their own thing.

“Wait,” Nemona called, trying not to sound desperate. The two creatures turned back to her. Just forget their type, she told herself. “Us four are going to be a team the next few days, alright guys? We’re going to win the champion tournament together. Are you with me?”

The two returned to her side, which she took as a yes.

“Alright!” Nemona said, bolder now, “First thing’s first, we gotta get you guys up to the typical level of champion Pokémon, so eat up!” She handed out the bags of rare candy. To the cerulege, she also handed the thermos of dark shard soup. The cerulege observed it coolly, as though suspicious.

“To change your Tera type,” she explained.

Not without hesitation, it drank the soup. Nemona could swear she saw the light in its eyes lessen as it drank. Would it be crafty and aloof like its teammates now? If only it was that easy for humans.

“Alright. Now, why don’t you show me what you’ve got so I can come up with move sets that play to your strengths. You two!” she pointed to the kingambit and cerulege, “Show me what you’ve got!”

The two blade-users lined up about fifteen feet apart on the field. Cerulege’s fiery blades shot out from its hands, and kingambit finally stood up from its throne and drew its own blades. Nemona blinked and they were jousting.

Nemona whipped out her notebook and furiously jotted down notes. Cerulege seemed to have decent speed- more speed than kingambit anyhow- but kingambit was taking physical hits like they were nothing. They both seemed pretty good in physical attack.

Cerulege ran a few steps back and hit kingambit with a flamethrower. It wasn’t a very impressive flamethrower, but it knocked the kingambit to the ground, seemingly dealing a lot of damage. Nemona took a mental note not to send kingambit out against special attackers and to replace flamethrower with a physical fire move.

Enraged, the kingambit stood up again and delivered a sucker punch to cerulege. It then called upon lokix and they took turns kicking it while it was down- a move Nemona knew as “beat up.” Finally, it flung its held item- a metal plate- at cerulege, winning the battle.

Nemona cringed. Maybe she could do away with those moves- they weren’t very versatile anyhow. It suddenly occurred to her that lokix was also a physical attacker. What if Leon used a physical wall? Dark-type moves were full of tricks. Maybe they had a trick for this. She could work with this. She had to.

It felt like no time at all before Geeta informed Nemona that she had five minutes left to choose movesets before they had to move into the stadium. They entered the changing room and Geeta began touching up her outfit and coaching her on her presentation while Nemona watched the broadcast screen.

Leon strode into the arena with his charizard flying overhead a few feet behind him. He took his place, struck his signature pose, and let his charizard fly in behind him, making his cape flow in the wind. The crowd went wild.

As Nemona watched the screen from the changing room, Geeta gave Nemona’s jacket a final tug. “Best of luck,” she said. Nemona nodded and stepped out.

The crowd was deafeningly quiet as Nemona came out, Geeta’s kingambit gliding next to her. She supposed it made sense- she hadn’t built up a fan-following like Leon had. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the graceful motions Geeta had taught her, only to nearly trip on a rock and have her Pokémon catch her.

“Draw your first Pokémon,” the referee instructed once Nemona was in place. Nemona threw out her lokix. Leon threw out a ferrothorn wearing a rocky helmet.

“Let the battle begin!”

“Throat chop!” Nemona ordered, kicking herself for using double kick as its fighting-type move. So much contact on this target would take a third of lokix’s health before one round had passed.

“Reflect,” Leon returned.

The ferrothorn put up its forcefield, which weakened the insect’s impact and left the ferrothorn with barely a scratch. Lokix kept chopping away, looking agile and impressive but taking more damage than it was dealing, all while the ferrothorn barely did a thing.

“Stealth rock, then leech seed,” Leon ordered. The ferrothorn spun, throwing out rocks and seeds. Lokix was hit with the seeds and fell to the ground as they burst open and covered him in in energy-draining roots. As it writhed, the ferrothorn sat a few feet away, wreathed in an elegant wall of rocks, seeds, and forcefields.

“Lokix, stop! Come back!” Nemona called. The Pokémon returned Her heart was pounding. She had to try something else. Cerulege could probably do the job with its fire move, but between the stealth rocks and the contact damage it would nearly be taken out. It was the only Pokémon she had that Leon’s charizard couldn’t hit for super effective damage. If only she had a special attacker…

“Cerulege, out!” Nemona called, throwing its ball into the arena. The stealth rocks immediately dug into him, knocking him onto his knees momentarily, but she got back up and drew his blades.

Leon didn’t hesitate for his next move. He returned the ferrothorn and threw out an aegislash.

Nemona’s heart pounded. She’d seen Leon’s aegislash in action during his televised events. It was dubious whether she could take it out in one hit with reflect still up, and in the likely case it knew a ghost-type move, it would be over for cerulege. A switch-in meant taking an attack and the stealth-rock, so lokix would probably be knocked out immediately, and if kingambit couldn’t take it down in one move…

“Nemona, this is your thirty second warning,” called the referee.

Nemona grit her teeth. She was on a path to losing without taking out a single one of Leon’s Pokémon. Would La Primera even want her as a champion if that happened?

“Fifteen seconds.”

No. She wouldn’t let that happen.

Nemona returned cerulege and threw out the skeledirge she’d raised up during the last treasure hunt, then used her tera orb to terastallize him to pure fire-type. The aigeslash tossed up its shield and caught it, started raining down shadow balls upon the ghostly crocodile, but he tanked the hits easily.

“Alright! Skeledirge, torch song!” Nemona commanded. The crocodile reared up and gave a mighty roar, sending out a bird-shaped flame that took the living sword out with one hit. Between the terastallization, the natural boost from torch song, and the throat spray she’d had him hold, his flames had gotten massive and hot. This was more like it. “Awesome. Now just keep doing what you’re doing!”

“Charizard, your turn!” Leon called, returning aegislash as the dragon lifted up from his side and took to the battle field. “Earth power!”

The crocodile sang as the earth quaked beneath him, releasing a much bigger pheonix this time. The charizard flew upward to avoid it, but the bird caught up, jabbed him in the chest with its beak, and left him falling to the ground and skeledirge’s flames ever-hotter. When it hit the ground, it was unmoving.

“Ferrothorn, out!” Leon called after returning his charizard, though he surely knew it was over. An even bigger pheonix took it out with ease.

The crowd was going wild. Nemona had been too preoccupied to notice it, but they had been from the first torch song. Smiling, she turned to face Geeta in the crowd and found her sitting in the front row.

Geeta looked horrified. She got up and left her seat, and a minute later as Nemona left the stage, she took her arm and marched her into the change room, closing the door behind them.

“What were you doing?” Geeta asked, sounding calmer than she looked.

“I… I just didn’t want to lose so badly. I know there should have been more back-and-forth. I’m sorry!”

Geeta sighed and collected herself somewhat. “Back and forth isn’t the problem. I had you registered for this match with lokix, cerulege and kingambit. You could be disqualified for sending out a different one. Choosing three Pokémon that can be useful in a variety of situations is a part of the skill that goes into three-on-three matches. You essentially cheated.”

Nemona stayed quiet as tears built in her eyes. The worst part was that she’d known that. She’d just forgotten it in the heat of the moment.

“But… because this is just a competition for entertainment and not title or anything like that, I may be able to keep you from being disqualified. Excuse me,” Geeta said, turning to leave. “I need to go talk to the league reps and Leon. I’ll message you once I’m done.”

Nemona watched the next match to take her mind off the anxiety. The champions facing off were Iris and Wallace, using a swampart and lapras respectively. It’s not fair, Nemona thought. They looked like they were having a great time. They were allowed to use starters and different types and wear pretty outfits. It would be nice to be able to do this tournament her way. Next to her, her rotom phone was buzzing with new texts, which she purposely ignored.

A few minutes into the battle, Leon took a seat next to her. “Hey,” He said to her. “I take it that this was a rough match for you. I know what it’s like to have an overbearing manager. If you want, me and some other champions could try and help you find your style.”

Nemona turned to him. He offered her a smile. “How would you know what Geeta is like?” she asked.

“I don’t. I just got a sense that this isn’t the style or the Pokémon you’re used to. And the way Geeta handled those league reps, oof. She’s something!” He chuckled. “And, well, I had an overbearing manager myself once. Ever hear of Chairman Rose?”

Nemona's smile fell. “She’s not like that. She would never put the world in danger by something like Rose did. Heck, she’s the reason we have a league!”

“Well, I suppose Rose sets the bar pretty low. But seriously. What do you say?”

“Did La Primera put you up to this?” Nemona asked, hopeful.

“Nope, I’m here on my own.”

“No. I’m not going behind her back. Geeta wants a certain type of champion, and I want to be it.”

Leon hesitated. “Suit yourself. But, uh, let me know if you change your mind.”

The two sat in silence for a while, watching the match. Eventually Nemona couldn’t take the awkwardness and headed back to the hotel room. Once she got there, she decided to finally face her phone. Many of the messages were from Penny.

What was that? was the first message.

That wasn’t you.

Except for skeledirge. That was pretty cool.

But the outfit.

And why are you using dark-types? It took you a week of warming up to even pet Arven’s mabosstif.

Did Geeta make you do it?

You’ve got to start telling her ‘no.’

I know that you idolize her but, uh, here’s what the people that work for her are saying.

The next message were screenshots from a group chat of all the Paldean gym leaders and elite four members. What hacker-fu Penny had done to access it was beyond Nemona, and they were saying all kinds of hateful things. “Poor kid,” Rika had said, “You just know that she’s doing this because if she went on herself she’d be booed off the stage.”

“That would be funny!” Poppy responded.

“I can’t believe she bought Nemona that stupid outfit instead of paying our overtime,” Larry messaged.

There were eight screenshots, but Nemona only got through the first one before she was furiously typing out a message of her own. Did these people not remember that Geeta had saved the league? It had been falling apart from mismanagement, and then Geeta had stepped away from her company and fixed it. She’d strong-armed in a new elite four when the old one had quit, revamped the gyms to be city-wide since they’d sold their buildings, and become the champion herself because no one else was available. Of course she made mistakes! Of course she rushed! She was doing the work for three people! And as a result, little nine-year-old Nemona had gone from watching league tournaments in other regions with envy to being able to look forward to her own!

But the message felt hollow. As she read more of the league members’ complaints, the more she related to them. Larry even complained that Geeta had forced him into using flying-types.

Before she could finish the message and press send, Geeta walked in.

“Good news,” she said. “Leon and the reps agreed to let you advance.”

Nemona took one look at Geeta’s face- now back to its usual gentle smile- and laid back on the bed. “I don’t think I can do this,” Nemona admitted. “Why do you want a dark-type champion, anyway?”

“Dark-types specifically weren’t important,” Geeta explained.

Nemona sat up suddenly. “What?” she asked.  “Then why did you-?” Her eyes scrunched up. She’d never been angry at La Primera before.

Geeta sighed and sat on the bed next to her. “You know the story of how I became champion better than anyone. People were gracious of the fact that I had a lot on my plate at first. But now they only see a champion who uses common, easy-to-raise Pokémon and would have been dethroned five times by now if we used the same rules as other regions. I wanted to protect you from the same criticisms I get: that I don’t have enough of a theme, my Pokémon aren’t rare and impressive enough, and so forth. But I also made mistakes. I forced us into too much of a time crunch, and perhaps I should have allowed you to just find your own way, as the other champions did. Though, you could have spoken up a bit more.” She gave Nemona a pointed look, which she turned away from.

Nemona stayed quiet for a long time, trying to forgive her mentor. “Okay,” she said finally. A moment later, her eyes went wide. “Wait. Does that mean that so long as I have a theme, it doesn’t matter which one?”

“Well, within some limits I-”

Nemona stood up to face Geeta. “That’s perfect! Oh my gosh, Leon actually offered to help me find my style! And he made it sound like other champions would be involved as well!”

Geeta smiled. “That is perfect!”

“So I can go?”

“Yes, but-”

Nemona started running for the door, but Geeta caught her arm.

“Now, wait. Don’t forget why you are here. I brought you here because I thought that Paldea could use a real champion now that the league is in order again. I will still be watching you. If you don’t do well or aren’t representing Paldea appropriately, then I will have to bring you under my wing again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nemona said. “I won’t let you down.”

[worksinprogress1]

The uneasiness did not wear off once he reached Eterna. Cyrus was oddly stiff to him from the moment they met. He gave Saturn his first job task- maintenance work on a number of old generators that clearly hadn’t been touched in years- without further explanation. A bit of research revealed to Saturn that Cyrus’ company was an old one, and that it had downsized a few years ago. That explained the unused equipment, but not why Cyrus wanted it ready for action again.

Whatever Cyrus’ bright idea was, it was taking a lot of his time. He spent most of the time he wasn’t at work cloistered in his room, stating that he was working on something important in a tone that suggested there would be no further questions on the matter. He didn’t seem annoyed with Saturn or impatient to have him move out- just distracted and tired. Some reunion this had turned out to be.

“You know,” Saturn said to him one day over dinner, “Betty learned hypnosis when she evolved. If you’re having trouble sleeping, she could help.”

“No, thank you,” Cyrus replied, “The sooner my project is finished, the better.”

“Why won’t you tell me what you’re working on?”

“You’ll see when it’s done.”

Saturn left it there. He knew how futile it was to pry for answers from Cyrus when he wasn’t eager to give them. He hoped that Cyrus’ all-consuming project wasn’t simply keeping the company afloat.

It was weeks before whatever-it-was was done and Cyrus finally asked him to see it.

“Saturn, could you come with me?” Cyrus asked. “It’s about what I’ve been working on.”

“Yes,” Saturn said, not quite managing to hide his eagerness.

Cyrus led Saturn into his room, which had been strictly off-limits for Saturn since he’d moved in. They stepped between stacks of books and documents on Sinnoh myths, Sinnoh energy companies, and the criminal exploits of various evil teams. Cyrus stopped in front of the corkboard he’d been using to draft his scheme. Notes on energy companies led to plans for a terrorist organization led to document pages on legendaries led to plans for the new world, with the notes for each stage being more sparse than the last since Cyrus had removed the especially incriminating information. The corkboard hadn’t shown the entire plan to begin with, of course- that was written on his computer, protected by several layers of passwords. But this would give Saturn enough information to understand without overwhelming his mental clarity.

“Would you like to know how I acquired my company?” Cyrus asked.

“Yes,” Saturn replied. Cyrus heard the seriousness in his voice. That was no surprise- Saturn was too observant not to notice that the company was doing poorly and worry about the stability of his job because of it.

“Do you remember when we talked about the legendaries, and how they could rewrite human beings if they so chose?”

"Yes. How does that relate to this?”

Cyrus folded his arms behind his back and closed his eyes. “Months ago, I realized that it might actually be possible for a person to take that power for their own. If that were true, it would be unconscionable not to pursue it. There is little chance that there will ever be another person with my intelligence, my vision and my boldness who will come to realize that it’s possible. I’m the only chance this world has to be freed from its suffering.”

Cyrus turned to the first part of the corkboard, which was covered in notes about the various energy companies of Sinnoh. “All I needed were the resources. I begged my uncle for a chance to be a part of the family business empire. It’s true that this company is losing out to greener competitors. Under normal circumstances, it would likely be shut down within a few years. But I believe it’s my key to gathering all I’ll need for the plan. If I can gather followers, we could undermine the competing companies and make it the primary energy company in Sinnoh. Using the resulting wealth, Team Galactic can properly begin. There are details to be sorted out, but as of tonight I’m certain it’s possible.”

Silence stretched out for what felt like minutes, and Cyrus focused on the cork board, avoiding Saturn’s eyes. Had he explained himself adequately? He’d wanted to be understood. He also knew that Saturn had every reason to run from a company that would be used this way.

“Wow. That’s impressive,” Saturn said. “Why did you bother with your family before you knew this would be possible?”

“It was merely an advantageous time. Energy companies earn most in the winter, so I thought a disappointing winter would encourage my uncle to wash his hands of the company and allow someone else to take the fall for it.” Cyrus was a good liar, and anything would be preferable to the truth. “I have something to ask you. Will you join me? Will you help me to create a new and complete world?”

Saturn turned back to the board. “You know, when you talked about changing the world, I thought you’d never find something that would satisfy you. You wanted to change things that no one could. I should have known you’d find a way. And this? This looks possible. The world is messed up. It should be different. I’m in. I want to see what you’ll do.”

Cyrus smiled. “Good. Thank you for being the first member of Team Galactic.”

There were… certainly pros and cons to this. Cyrus had disappeared when he had because his time with Saturn had tempted him not to pursue this plan, to just be another person living a futile life. He’d called Saturn to move across the region because of what a good subordinate he would make. But then, why had he done it before he’d known Team Galactic would be possible? He wasn’t sure. And although Cyrus would never back away from his goals now... joy, lust, vulnerability, outright dependence... they were marginally forgivable traits in a young man without a purpose, but unacceptable in a God. He’d have to hold Saturn at an icy distance from then on to embody his ideals. He did not relish the thought.

But Saturn was more than a temptation. Saturn was diligent, responsible, trustworthy, calm, and loyal. He would a great asset to the team.

—-

And so it began. Cyrus began speaking in various locations- first a park in Eterna City, then outside of Canalave library, and then in Oreburg. Cyrus’ voice attracted crowds, and it awed Saturn. After seeing Cyrus act and speak so robotically the past few months, seeing this passion, anger, and drive was very welcome. Saturn saw a similar angry fire in the eyes of many young people who watched him. But no one joined.

 At the end of the third day, an older man approached Cyrus as he was preparing to leave.

“Hey, buddy,” the man said in a gentle voice. “I heard your speech, and I get it. The world can suck sometimes. Why don’t I buy you a drink and we can talk about it?”

“You... wish to hear more about my ideas?”

The man offered Cyrus a smile. “Yeah. Sure.”

They left, and Saturn let them leave. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell Cyrus that this was not a potential recruit.

It was getting late by the time Cyrus returned home, wet from the rain and clearly intent on ducking into his room as soon as possible.

“So, how did it go?” Saturn asked.

Cyrus stopped, but kept his back turned. “He wasn’t interested,” he explained.

“Ah,” Saturn said, trying to sound as though that wasn’t a forgone conclusion.

“He pitied me,” Cyrus growled, beginning to pace around the room. “I must change in how I present myself. Tonight I’ll develop a list of the greatest orators in modern history, and tomorrow I will use their strategies to ensure things go differently. Who are the best speakers you can think of?”

“Well, Steven Stone for sure... Champion Diantha... give me a minute.” Saturn wracked his mind for good speakers, especially more optimistic ones.

The results of their first few days of recruitment weren’t surprising. Cyrus was good at articulating what was wrong with the world, but “join Team Galactic and we will create a better world” didn’t cut it as a solution, especially with the word “team” ominously hanging over the enterprise. If his orator deep-dive didn’t give him the idea, Saturn would find a way to subtly give it to him later.

“Chairman Rose? And maybe you could look at how other evil teams do recruitment.”

“There are some tell-all books by ex-members I could review. But the problem remains: how to explain the new world to people incapable of understanding it?”

There was a knock at the door. Pulled from the conversation, Cyrus opened it. It was a girl who looked to be fourteen at the oldest. Wet red hair hung over her forehead and her clothes were worn out and too small for her. “You’re the one who wanted to change things, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Cyrus replied.

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Good, I’ve been following you all night!”

There was an awkward silence.

“Sorry, that came out wrong. But please let me join your team. You want a world where people are kind and reasonable and don’t hurt each other for no reason anymore. Well, I want that, too. I think everyone does. I know about evil teams. I can help you!”

“We’ll take you into consideration,” Cyrus said, feeling as though he’d stumbled upon a miracle. This girl had given him a clear-as-day description of the new world that others would appreciate, and she might have some valuable knowledge. “What’s your name?”

The girl hesitated and curled her fists. “Copper. But don’t tell anyone else. My old team might be after me.”

“What do they want with you?” Cyrus asked coolly. The last thing they needed was an altercation with an evil team before theirs had even begun.

“They...um... Nothing. I left because I didn’t want to live off of other people’s greed and nastiness anymore. That’s all.”

“I see. Wait in the hallway while I discuss something with my subordinate,” Cyrus instructed.

Copper nodded and stepped out. Cyrus turned to Saturn.

“We’re not actually going to use a kid like this, are we?” Saturn asked.

“You think it would be kinder to put her back on the streets?”

“We have other options than that. We could call the police, get her connected with her family...”

“I doubt she would allow it, if she’s who I think she is.” Cyrus brought up a photo on his Pokétch. It was of the backs of a family out for a walk, holding hands, seemingly taken by paparazzi. There was a short, dark-haired man, a tall, red-haired woman, and on either side of them was a red-haired young child- one boy and one girl.

“Is that Giovanni?”

“Yes. And an insider to the most successful evil team in the world would be very useful to us. She wants an idealist to follow and a more comfortable life than she’s been living. We will provide it for her. It’s that simple.”

Cyrus opened the door, where Copper was waiting. She looked up at Cyrus with big, nervous eyes.

“You may join us,” Cyrus said. “You will need a new name so that your old team doesn’t find you. Your name will be Mars, after the God of war, because you’ve been strong for too long. You won’t have to be strong much longer. I promise.”

Mars’ red eyes filled with adoration and tears. She dove in and hugged Cyrus, catching him off guard. Cyrus gave her an awkward pat on the back.

“You’ll sleep on our couch tonight,” Cyrus explained. “We’ll figure out more permanent arrangements tomorrow.”

“Thank you, thank you, I won’t let you down!” Mars insisted, head still firmly against Cyrus’ chest.

The next day, the trio went to their next speaking location. Mars had suggested a seedy area of Eterna, so they could target those who would be most eager for a change.

Mars was first to speak, and described Cyrus as though he was a saviour. That made sense. That was what he was. As she spoke, he absorbed every bit of hope that she’d received from him. What she’d taken was what he would sell the masses.

Soon, their ranks filled, the old generators came back into use, and money multiplied.

---

Officer Jenny pulled up to the Eterna City office building. Two rapidash and a vespiquen in pokéballs hung from her belt, along with a radio to call for backup and a handgun to use as a last resort. She knew her mission: arrest the man who had been suspected by their detective team to be behind several recent attacks on energy companies throughout Sinnoh.

The building was unassuming, and its inside was no different- the first floor held an unoccupied lobby area that Jenny walked through uncontested aside from some odd looks from the receptionists. The next floor contained a largely young but otherwise unremarkable workforce typing at computers or fiddling with equipment. She wondered whether she was in the right place.

Jenny was about to slink up to the next floor before a man caught her arm. Jenny took her rapidash’s pokéball, preparing for another fight.

“Hey,” the man whispered, “Are you here to see the boss?”

“Yes,” Jenny replied, keeping her hand around the ball just in case.

“I’ll take you. He’s gone too far.”

It was several floors to the top, each stranger than the last. Computers gave way to strange equipment Jenny couldn’t identify. Carpets and bland wallpaper gave way to metal, chrome, and space-themed decor, like she’d stepped into a futuristic military base. Finally, they got to the boss’ office.

On the other side of the door, Cyrus and Jupiter were having their weekly meeting, which as per usual had gone into the subject of military equipment and its possible uses.

“And what is the explosion radius?” Cyrus asked, stone-faced but with rapt attention.

“twenty-five whole feet,” Jupiter explained, “which doesn’t sound like much, but trust me, it is.”

“I see. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to put some of our weaponry budget towards it. Of course, that depends on whether you think you could lead Saturn and the grunts in constructing one, given the right parts.”

“I’d love to,” Jupiter replied.

“Tell me more about their construction.”

Jupiter smiled. She got the sense that Cyrus liked these meetings more than he let on. Why else have them so often, and last thing in the day so they could go late, as they so often did? Jupiter couldn’t complain either- she was getting paid to explain her passion to an interested audience. As Jupiter was about to launch into an explanation, the door slammed open.

Officer Jenny stood in the doorway, a handgun in her grip. Oh, Jupiter had known this day would come. Her good day was about to get even better.

“Cyrus Akagi, you are under arrest for multiple counts of inciting terrorism. Put your hands above your head.”

“Very well,” Cyrus replied coolly. He got up from behind his desk, put up his hands, and slowly came towards officer Jenny. The officer grew increasingly tense as her eyes moved from the untouched pokéballs on the desk to Cyrus’ unreadable face to Jupiter, who gave her a frosty sneer.

“Before you take me in, let me ask you a question: have you checked the forecast for Snowpoint today?”

Jenny grit her teeth and adjusted her grip on the gun.

“My company powers much of Sinnoh,” Cyrus continued, stopping right in front of the officer. “That includes its coldest areas. Every one of my subordinates are on strict orders to shut down energy production if I am arrested.” He took Jenny’s wrists and raised her gun to aim at his head. “Go ahead. I’m sure that the people of Snowpoint will be glad you stood against corruption when they’re contracting frostbite in their own homes. It’s been a chilly Fall. I imagine that several other towns are three, maybe four weeks away from their fate.”

The officer trembled. Behind her, the “traitorous” grunt was grinning like a maniac. Saturn appeared as well, similarly enjoying her pain. He touched her shoulder, causing her to jump.

“Would you like an escort out, miss Jenny?” Saturn asked. Defeated, the officer hung her head, put away her gun, and turned away. The three of them left, leaving Jupiter and Cyrus alone. They knew that this moment would happen. That it had happened once the company was powerful enough to leverage threats was sheer luck. And now, after two years of hiding in the shadows, the police now knew of the nature of their organization, but the response to their crimes would be slow or nonexistent so long as no one knew that Cyrus’ objective was taking over the world and not just the energy sector.

Everything changed rapidly over the next few days. Most of the Team Galactic personnel, including the commanders and Cyrus himself, moved into the Veilstone City building, which would now be not only their workplace but their home. Pokémon that had once stayed with individuals were moved to the menagerie, where they would stay when off-duty. Mars in particular had her hands full giving dozens of grunts teal bowl cuts to match their new uniforms- a space-age design that Mars had had a heavy hand in designing. The excitement helped her push past fatigue. Everything was finally coming to life around her.

Once the last grunt was finally cut, Mars ran off to see Cyrus. She’d somehow managed to convince him to wait until she was around to try on his new uniform.

"Well? What do you think?” Mars asked after he’d put it on for the first time.

Cyrus looked into the mirror. The uniform looked like something that the commander of a science fiction space vessel would wear. He folded his arms behind his back and walked back and forth in front of the mirror, giving it his best stern, hard looks.

Yes, this was perfect. He looked like a solid, uncompromising wall. And wasn’t that what everyone wanted him to be? So many fools, their lives fallen apart due to their own vice, had put their lives and decisions into his hands because they wanted someone sturdy and rational to handle them. It was arguably the smartest choice they’d ever made. Cyrus looked back to Mars, seeing the adoration on her face- adoration he was becoming more and more used to seeing.

“Well done,” he said to Mars, turning back to the mirror. Mars lit up from the validation.

Everyone rose to attention when Cyrus entered the auditorium, clearing the way to give him space as he made his way to the stage, where his commanders were lined up to the side. There was much chatter amongst the crowd, but Cyrus didn’t mind. Even if noise still had power over him, which it did not, he could stop it in an instant with a command. After taking his place on the stage, he stared at the crowd, put a finger to his lips and watched as they fell silent.

“Fellow members of Team Galactic, hear me!” Cyrus spoke into the microphone. “Each one of you here has agreed to be a part of our great mission to leave this world of strife and suffering behind us and enter a new era of peace. We would not be here today without your collective efforts.

We have now entered our second phase of operations. In this new era, the world will be aware of our ill-doings. However, they will not be aware of our cause, as it is a cause only we can understand.

There will be new rules to follow to ensure our success. Firstly, no one is allowed to leave the compound without at least one issued Pokémon. As public enemies, we must be prepared to defend our interests. Secondly, do not speak of our true mission to anyone. The longer the authorities think of my capture as more trouble than it’s worth, the fewer obstacles they will put in our path. 

Finally, there is no place among us for doubt. You will all pledge to me today. Swear to relinquish all your hope for this world and put it instead in Team Galactic. Together, we will triumph!”

The crowd cheered wildly. The commanders lined up and one by one to swear to him. The grunts followed, excited to receive his approval.

—-

“Zubat, return. Sneasel, out,” Cyrus commanded, tossing the new pokéball into the arena. The sneasel absorbed Betty’s psychic without a scratch.

“Nice switch-in,” Saturn admitted, readying a different pokéball himself. “Crogunk, your turn!” he said, throwing it.

“Pursuit,” Cyrus ordered, and his sneasel ran in and jabbed the kadabra before it had a chance to return.

Betty fell to the ground, defeated. Saturn’s crogunk was swiftly taken out shortly after with air slash.

“Well, that’s all I got,” Saturn said. He jogged over to his fainted Pokémon and used revives on them. Once Betty was up, she was cuddling into Saturn. She was nearly the height of a person now, but some things never changed. Saturn petted her but returned her as Cyrus approached- no need for her to seek affection from someone who wouldn’t give it anymore.

“You’re getting pretty good at this,” Saturn said, putting away the pokéball.

“Yes.” And with this, Cyrus had shed the last of his weakness. Learning to battle had been low on his long list of priorities, but it was a skill that every crime boss needed. The two left the arena, stepped out into the chilly night together, and headed back.

“So, Cyrus, about that new rule about Team Galactic’s Pokémon being left in the menagerie when off duty... I know you want them to be loyal to the team instead of one person, but…”

“Commanders are exempt. For now, at least.” The last thing he wanted was to reduce his best recruiter’s morale by separating her from her beloved Purugly. “However, I have a new order for you. Never speak of how you once knew me as anyone other than I am now. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Master Cyrus,” Saturn replied.

“Excellent. Good night,” Cyrus said, and they parted ways.

[worksinprogress1]

The sky was grey and heavy as Arven walked Miraidon to what would be its new home in the Lighthouse Laboratory. Penny and Nemona followed behind, carrying supplies for the creature. Arven shifted the bags of Pokémon food he’d been carrying into one arm and stroked the creature with the other, trying to quiet its whining.

“I know,” he whispered. “I miss him, too.”

Not long after the annual treasure hunt, Florian’s mother had been transferred to a new location for work and they’d had to move away. They’d been forced to leave Miraidon behind, and Arven to try to find one of his father’s old lab techs to look after it. He wasn’t looking after it himself longer than he had to. It was just too much of a reminder.

There wasn’t much to be done at the Lighthouse Laboratory. The three students put down a giant pet bed for Miraidon, scattered its toys, fed and watered it, and they were done. Arven had called Penny and Nemona out for emotional support more than anything.

“Thanks for being here,” he said to the girls, sitting down on one of the old tables in the laboratory. “You know, I played it cool in front of Clavell, but losing my dad is... well, it’s a lot to process. I mean, apparently he did love me, but now I’ll never get to actually spend time with him. It kind of hurts knowing what could have been. But hey, at least now I have you two.” He gave them a smile. “Between that and all the schoolwork I have to catch up on, I won’t even have time to think about it!”

The two girls exchanged an awkward look.

Penny was the first to speak. “Actually, my parents are sending me away to live with my weird uncle Looker in Kalos. Probably for a whole year. They found out about the whole Team Star and stealing millions in LP thing and want to scare me straight.”

Arven got up, fists curled and teeth gritted. “Seriously?! But Geeta and Clavell let you off with community service for all of that! And you have a job lined up after graduation. How many 14-year-olds can say that?”

“Yeah, but they said that ‘it’s still a felony,’ and ‘I need to learn to respect the rules before I run into someone who won’t let me break them.’ It sucks.”

Nemona spoke up next. “...And Geeta wants to train me up to be the new head champion. Which means I’m leaving the Uva Academy, too. I’m really sorry, Arven.”

“Oh. Well, at least I’ll be able to reach you by flying taxi since you’ll be in Paldea.”

Nemona shared a pained look with Penny. “…She’s starting by taking me to a world championship event in Hoenn. It’ll only be for a few weeks!”

Arven felt like the lifeline he’d caught was disintegrating. He’d be all alone at school again, at the time he most needed not to be. It took him a second to blink back tears and figure out the right response. “Oh. Well, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you. Are you excited?”

Finally released from the expectation to act sympathetic, Nemona’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “So excited! You have no idea. I’m going to get to battle some of the strongest trainers in the whole world! Up until a while ago, even meeting them would have been a dream come true!”

“Great. You’ll finally have some people who can keep up to you. I’ll watch all your matches.”

“If you can find time while digging yourself out of the homework pit,” Penny quipped. “But yeah. We’ll be watching. ...Assuming uncle Looker lets me. Or I can find a way around his rules. Which I will.”

“You heard it. We’ll keep in touch,” Arven agreed, crossing his arms. “Assuming Penny can go a couple weeks without doing something stupid and getting her phone privileges revoked.”

Penny jabbed his arm. Arven jabbed her back.

Nemona smiled. “You guys are the best! Yeah, let’s keep in touch!”

---

Nemona squinted into the sunrise as she tried to make out whether the flying taxi on the horizon was La Primera’s or if she still had a while to wait. She’d shown up twenty minutes early. Some might call that overkill, but one couldn’t take this too seriously, and Nemona had read that Geeta liked to be early.

As the flying taxi neared, Nemona could see that it was Geeta. She stood up and ran to it, getting in before it even touched down.

“I’m glad to see that you’ve kept your passion for battling,” Geeta said. Even in the early morning, her image- the suit, the elaborate hair, her gentle smile- was just as flawless as she’d been every time Nemona had seen her. It almost hadn’t sunk in yet that she’d be working for her. She’d be spending the next few weeks learning to be just like her.

“Oh yeah! I’m not gonna let you down.” Nemona replied. “Oh my gosh. Do you think Cynthia does autographs? Do you think I could get a picture with Blue’s blastoise? Or maybe...” Nemona caught something vaguely disapproving in Geeta’s eyes. “Uh, sorry, I’ll calm down.”

“No, go ahead,” Geeta assured her. “It will be best for you to get your excitement out now. Once we’re at the airport and especially once we’re there, you’ll need to keep that excitement under wraps. You’re representing Paldea, after all. You have to act like you belong with the other champions, because you do.” Those last three words were a jolt of energy to Nemona’s heart. “No autographs. Pictures are fine so long as they look professional.”

“You got it!.”

As it turned out, they had plenty to talk about on the flying taxi ride and then the flight to Hoenn. Nemona already knew a good deal about the champions and the teams and strategies they used, and Geeta helped fill in the gaps of her information. After getting settled at the hotel, it was late and Nemona was tired, but her energy came right back when she told Nemona that some of the champions were already competing.

“I thought that the tounament didn’t start until tomorrow?”

“The brackets will be announced tomorrow,” Geeta explained, “but for now some of the champions are doing some unofficial one-on-one matches to warm up the audience. Would you like to watch them?”

“Watch them? I want to join them! Let’s get down there,” Nemona replied, already running for the door to their hotel room.

“No,” Geeta said gently, making Nemona stop dead. “I’d like us to watch them from here, where we can discuss what they’re doing. It will be an important lesson for you.”

“Okay.” Nemona sat back down on the bench next to Geeta.

The television displayed the tournament arena. On one side of it, Diantha strode in alongside her gardevoir, mega-evolving it to the audible delight of the crowd. On the other, Cyntha glided down from the bleachers on the back of her garchomp, sliding off of her at the last moment and landing nimbly on her feet as the creature took her position in the ring. 

“Begin!” shouted the referee.

“Garchomp, Poison jab!” Cynthia ordered. Her garchomp lunged, her claws coating themselves in purple fluid.

“Ice punch,” Diantha returned. Gardevoir’s fists covered themselves in ice, and she countered the first jab. Garchomp was darting in and out of Gardevoir’s range as Gardevoir stayed stationary, blocking only as many quick but relatively weak jabs as it took and clearly taking more damage than it was dealing.

“Wait, why's she doing that?” Nemona asked. Gardevoir didn’t have the attack or speed for this, but with her special attack, a good dazzling gleam would have-

“Because,” Geeta explained calmly, “This is what everyone came here to see.”

“Ah,” Nemona said as she watched the garchomp’s speed and footwork.

“Dazzling gleam!” Diantha ordered. Gardevoir gathered energy and blasted a powerful beam of pink energy from her outstretched hands.

“Dig,” Cynthia retunred. Garchomp quickly dug into the ground, only its tail getting grazed. Earthquake would have been more powerful and maneuverable, but this was more of a sight to see.

“Send it into the earth, Gardevoir,” Diantha ordered. The gardevoir ran over to the hole and sent dazzling gleam down into it, filling the hole completely and leaving pink light overflowing from its edges. A roar of pain emanated from it. And yet, Cynthia seemed unworried. She closed her eyes and smiled as the ground behind gardevoir opened up, releasing pink energy and a battered-but-still-fighting garchomp, her claws coated in poison. Gardevoir barely had time to look back before a powerful hit took her out.

“Cynthia and Garchomp are the winner!” the referee announced, pointing his flag to Cynthia. The TV screen showed a close-up of her smile before cutting out to sports commentators.

“Wow!” Nemona beamed, clasping her hands together in excitement. “Man, it’s like they’re coordinating with each other in real time to give everyone the best show possible! Like, to show everything their Pokémon are capable of, while also trying to win as a second goal. That must be even more challenging than just winning!” Nemona gripped the pokéball at her belt, her body yelling at her to go and try out this new challenge.

“Yes, exactly,” Geeta stated. “You are a great trainer, Nemona. You will have no trouble at all upholding the Pokémon league standards, I’m sure. But I’ve brought you to this tournament so that we can work on your image and showmanship. Part of a champion’s job is representing their region, after all. There is much to attend to- we’ll need to design you a perfect outfit and figure out your trademark mannerisms and a team including a trademark Pokémon.”

“Oh, man, a trademark Pokémon!” The mere thought that one of her Pokémon could be as iconic as Cynthia’s garchomp or Diantha’s gardevoir... or Leon’s charizard or Steven’s metagross or... Nemona couldn’t help it. She let out some little squealing noises.

Nemona smiled. “Yes. I suggest you make a list of candidates for that role. We’ll go over them tomorrow morning and find just the right one.”

---

The heavy door that separated the prison from the outside world slammed shut, nearly making Penny jump. Looker walked in front of her and gestured for her to follow.

“This is what happens to people who break the rules,” Looker explained, stone-faced as they passed by cell after cell, each one containing two miserable, dead-eyed prisoners, two cots with thin mattresses and thin blankets, a metal toilet, and little else. 

“People won’t keep giving you free passes forever. And there won’t be a warning for when they won’t. Every rule you break could be the one that puts you in here! Yes, even now. Stealing as much currency as you did could have given you more than two years, and you would have been transferred to a prison just like this at sixteen.”

Only if you get caught, Penny thought as she followed behind him, but she thought better of saying it. She settled for nodding along instead, with a face that she hoped said “I’m taking this seriously,” but might have been more along the lines of “how much longer until you shut up?”

“I love you, Penny! And that’s why I have to do this. You’re going to work here after school for the next semester. Maybe the next year if it’s necessary. I promised your parents, so tomake sure it’s all the time you’ll spend there!”

The two ran into a gruff-looking security guard, who Looker handed Penny off to for a tour of the facility and explanation of her duties.

It was late by the time Penny was off work, done with dinner, and could escape to the room that Looker had her set up in. It matched the rest of the house in containing a functional amount of furniture- in this case, a bed, a desk and chair, a bedside table, and a closet with hangers- but nothing else. When one worked for the international police, one moved too frequently to make a house a home.

Penny sat down at the desk and pulled out her rotom phone, only to realize that its usual rotom had been replaced with a sharp-eyed parental control one. When exactly Looker had managed that was beyond her. Penny sighed. It was a good thing she’d prepared for just this situation. She opened the window and then dug into her eevee backpack and pulled out a plastic baggie of dead batteries interspersed with red and green loose wires.

“Want a snack?” she asked the rotom, firmly holding her phone in one hand and dangling the bag in the other.

The rotom nodded vigorously. Penny could feel it trying to get loose and float over, but she held the phone firmly. The rotom pulled until it popped out of the phone. Penny threw the baggie out the window, and the rotom chased it out. She closed the window, got up, and laid down on her bed, ignoring the creature as it tapped the glass. This should give her a few hours at least.

The phone’s screen was filled with new texts from Arven, Nemona, and the ex-members of Team Star. She could respond to them later. For now, she brought up the internet and typed “how to get fired from a prison job without getting killed.”

If Looker was going to give her a hard time, she’d give him a hard time right back.

—-

Late morning light filtered through the curtains as Arven laid in bed, phone in hand and Mabosstif curled up on top of him. He was missing second period and had missed his classes yesterday as well, but who cared? Clavell wouldn’t suspend him while he had nowhere else to go, and he was almost beyond caring if he took an extra year to graduate. He was scrolling through a some long-winded excited ramblings from Nemona when he heard a knock at the dorm room door.

“Arven?” came Clavell’s voice. Arven scrambled out of bed, almost kicking Mabosstif in the process. Thankfully he’d gone to bed in his clothes the night before, so he could pass as having been up for a while. He’d say he had to catch up on some important school project and had thought it was more important than a couple missed classes. Hopefully that would make Clavell go away.

Clavell opened the door and stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking like we wasn’t sure what to say. After pausing for a moment, he crossed the room, sat on Arven’s bed, and gestured for Arven to sit next to him. Arven obeyed. “How... how have you been handling the professor’s death, really?” Clavell asked.

“I’m fine,” Arven replied.

“...And your three friends being away?”

Arven closed his eyes and looked away from Clavell. “I’m fine, alright? I’m used to not having anyone around. It’s fine! Just punish me if you’re going to and go.”

Clavell took a deep breath. “I’m not going to punish you, I just thought...” Clavell shook his head as though reconsidering something. “Actually, very well. There is something you can do for me as punishment for the missed classes. Two exchange students are arriving today from Alola. If you could give them a tour and get them settled into their dorms, that would be wonderful.”

“Okay,” Aven replied. He had a strong sense that this was to get him moving or to cheer him up somehow. He would have thanked Clavell if it weren’t being framed as a punishment.

“Excellent. Stop by my office and I’ll give you the details. And let me know if you need anything.”

Hours later, the flying taxi touched down in front of the academy, containing a green-haired girl in her early twenties, a little boy playing on a gaming device, and their luggage.

“Hey,” Arven said to them. “Welcome to the Uva Academy. My name’s Arven. I’m going to be the one to show you around.”

“Mallow,” the green-haired woman replied, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. first thing’s first, let’s get you guys set up in your dorms. I’ll lead the way.”

Arven navigated the crowded halls, checking every so often to make sure that Mallow was still following.

“So, what brought you to the academy?” Arven asked.

“Well, I aged out of being a trial captain- that’s like our equivalent to gym leaders, and only people under twenty can be one- so I thought I’d try to figure out what I want to do next. I’m probably going to be a cook, though. Alola is just so good for growing ingredients. Berries are the obvious ones, but you wouldn’t believe how many medicinal plants grow there. Maybe I could be some kind of healer!”

Okay, Clavell had definitely put him up to this to cheer him up. “Wow, you’re into cooking, huh? Me, too. And as for medicinal plants, trust me, I know more about those than I ever wanted to. But at least the little collection I got out of it can make anything taste great.” Arven stopped in front of their dorm room doors and turned to Mallow. “The teachers let me use the home ec lab so long as I’m out and it’s clean by the time it’s needed. Want to show me what you’ve got?”

“Yeah! Oh boy, I knew I didn’t bring those dehydrated rawst berries for nothing!”

“You brought dehydrated rawst berries? Oh my God, we need to put those in a stew, right now! I swear, they’re like the only thing that’s better dehydrated. Or un-dehydrated, as they’ll be once we’re done with them.”

“Sounds good! But only if you show me which of those healing herbs we can add to it!”

“Oh, you bet.”

“Can I help?” the little boy asked. Arven realized that he hadn’t spoken until now. He didn’t look older than eight or nine, maybe ten, and between the short, round physique, the bad haircut, the quietness and the resting grouch face, Arven predicted that he’d be spending most of his free periods at the academy alone, and that was if he was lucky enough to fly under the radar of bullies.

“Of course you can join us, little buddy!” Arven replied, giving him a big smile.

Mallow smiled down at the younger boy. “This is Sophocles. He’s also a trial captain. He invented a machine that can summon totem Pokémon, and he’s made a lot of other really cool stuff, too! His parents wanted him to come here so he could expand his horizons and hopefully make some friends.”

“Oh. He’s good with tech, is he?” Arven’s brain had practically shut off once he’d heard that, and it was currently screaming at him not to do what he was about to do. “Do you like robots, little buddy? Have you worked on them? Ever programmed anything?” he asked, crouching to get down to Sophocles’ level. Hopefully his voice sounded less suspicious to Sophocles than it did to his own ears.

“Yeah,” Sophocles replied nervously.

Arven’s heart was beating hard, the way it did when one was about to do something that could get them in immense trouble. “Oh, well, in that case the academy might just have a special field trip for you. I’ll be leading you on it, alright?”

“Okay.”

Arven stood up straight again. “Pack for a couple nights. I’ll meet you right outside Mesagoza at eight tonight.” Arven started for his room to pack. Going back to Area Zero would be risky, even with a gym leader-strength trainer coming with him. And who knew what the distant future would be like once they got to the time machine. But maybe, just maybe, Sophocles would be able to reprogram his dad, get him to come home and act like a parent to him.

Arven looked back to Sophocles and Mallow, the latter of which had definitely realized something wasn’t right. “Uh, your room numbers are 309 and 310. See you guys for your tour later,” he called out before running off.