Namohysip
Dragon Enthusiast
Chapter 199 – Twilight Terror
In a small room made of black floors and constellations twinkling in the tile, two Pokémon stood and watched a tiny world.
One was a great lizard with an inflated throat that resembled a wheel. He didn’t care much for the form, but it worked well enough while in proximity to this kind of world. ‘Koraidon,’ they called it. Beside him was a ‘Miraidon,’ some metallic, roboticized version of the same species.
Despite their appearances, Koraidon was better with their constellation-building’s interface.
And the readings weren’t good.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing, ‘Miraidon’?”
“Please don’t call me that,” Miraidon said, her voice with a slightly bitcrushed buzz.
“Now, now. When visiting a world, you find a comfortable name, don’t forget that,” Koraidon said, tap, tap, tapping away at a keyboard made of little, twinkling stars.
Miraidon rolled her digitized eyes and loomed over Koraidon’s shoulder.
“Interesting… that’s a big fraction. And all of them in unison?”
“The telltale signs of the Usurper of this world gathering souls to bolster his hold on reality. What do they call themselves? Pokémon? Is that what we are right now?” Koraidon looked at his scaly arms. “From the report, these worlds have powerful, godlike creatures, some stronger than others. In great enough numbers, they can shape the world around them, putting the forces of nature at their mercy.”
Miraidon snorted. Pixels escaped her snout. “Obviously, there’s a problem with that inherently, but it’s a very common type of reality. It must have some balancers inside, at least in the short term.”
“Well, either way, that stability’s long gone,” Koraidon said. Then, with a sigh, he said, “I think it’s time we put a stop to this before it gets out of hand.”
“How many of the parameters are met? I don’t think it satisfies all of them.”
“The trajectory is, though. I don’t want those people to suffer.” Koraidon said it calmly, but there was more weight to those words. “If we don’t act now, the damage will multiply. Some of it may not be reversible. They won’t be the same.”
Miraidon hesitated. “The Overseers already in there. Can we contact them at all?”
“The one going by ‘Necrozma’ is not conscious. The internal forces of the world had corrupted him. The one called ‘Hecto’ is partly the same, though it seems only a fragment of his soul is that way. Should we reach for him?”
Then came a new voice: “No need.”
Both heads turned to see the body of a great, rainbow phoenix. Ho-Oh was this one’s species.
“There’s our scout. Wonderful, ‘Ho-Oh.’ Still borrowing that body even here?”
“Just a copy,” Ho-Oh said with a sly glint in his eyes. “I like it. It’s majestic. I’m sure the Ho-Oh down below won’t mind if I took inspiration from his image.”
“Well, what info do you have?” Koraidon asked. “I was about to rev up the delete button. Soul chamber’s all prepped to harvest everyone that comes out. This’ll be a clean one if we do it now… and if we don’t hesitate.”
“Don’t get so hasty,” Ho-Oh said, tilting his head upward.
“Ugh, I hate that look on that body. I can still see ‘you’ through it.” Miraidon growled. “Just tell us already. The world’s falling apart by the second.”
Ho-Oh outstretched a wing, revealing a report. “I’m not sure if the gods would be able to facilitate it anyway. Things have already gotten messier than your readings suggest… It will fail. And not only that…”
He tossed it over to them, the papers gently splaying out on the main starry table. The two lizards peered over the reports, focusing on the abstract.
“…Really, now?” Miraidon said. “So, the other Usurper, that ‘Owen’ person… prepared for this in case Kilo leaked into other worlds?”
“I was impressed,” Ho-Oh admitted. “Seems he knew that the forces in Kilo wouldn’t be satisfied with just Kilo, so he set up the neighboring world to defend in case things went wrong. In other words…”
“He bought time to keep us from pressing the big red button,” Miraidon muttered. “Clever person for trying to keep his power.”
Ho-Oh chuckled. “It’s interesting, but this Usurper repeatedly denied offers to be a god.”
“Well, of course,” Miraidon said. “Usurpers want to surpass the gods. To accept a god’s power is to be under it. I doubt this world is all that different.”
“True… but perhaps there’s more to it,” Ho-Oh replied. “Call it silly, but this world has a lot of weight on emotions, hearts, and souls. It isn’t all neurons down there.”
He gazed down at the projection of the planet just outside their little observatory. There was a fond look in his eyes.
“They’ve mitigated the collateral damage. Why not see if they can solve this for themselves?”
Koraidon tilted his head before grunting and shaking his head. Cursed animal instincts. “Right, okay. Fine.”
Miraidon nodded as well. “But if the count of free souls goes down to zero… delete. Yes?”
“At that point, all is lost,” Koraidon agreed. “I’ll, ahh, double-check that soul chamber…”
As Koraidon walked past Ho-Oh, the great bird said to Miraidon, “Let’s try contacting the ‘Necrozma’ enforcer again.”
“That might be hard. We don’t really have the power or know-how for pinpoint contact without a specialist.”
“Specialist?”
“Yes. What, do you happen to know someone that’s a Necrozma expert?” Miraidon said.
“Hm. Maybe.” Ho-Oh turned, following Koraidon down the constellation hall. “But for now… let’s give them some faith. I spoke with the other Usurper, that ‘Owen’ oddball. I think he’s different than the Usurpers we usually deal with.”
“Different, you say,” Miraidon hummed.
Koraidon pressed a paw on an obsidian-black door, sliding it open. As the door closed, Ho-Oh remarked:
“I predict he’ll do something extraordinary with what the gods gave up.”
<><><>
For mental hours stuffed in fleeting seconds, Owen wondered how he could have done anything just slightly faster. Every hesitation, every unnecessary sentence, every tiny conversation, and perhaps he would have come sooner to kill Alexander outright.
But now the flames Amia held up were dying, the Hearts were struggling just to get back to their feet, and Owen counted a literal decimation of their numbers—which meant those lost had been subsumed by Alexander already. He didn’t know how long it would take to save them afterward… if they ever had such a luxury again.
Emotions. Why did it have to be emotions? If the Voidland spirits took over Alexander… it wasn’t “Alexander” anymore! His soul bullet was useless!
A claw jabbed into his side.
“Ow! Hey!”
“Stop daydreaming, Dad,” said a ghostly Zoroark.
It took Owen a few moments to realize what she meant.
“Remi—I mean, Sera, are you alright?”
“We need to go. This is bad bad.” She pointed at the incoming wall of darkness that Amia was barely holding off with all her strength. Even though Amia’s fire seemed to go for miles at this point, the wall was spreading faster, pouring over the top and around the sides. It was closing in. A losing battle.
“But where?” Owen whispered. “Where can…” His mind raced. Pokémon flashed in his mind. People he could ask for help, before quickly realizing each one wouldn’t be enough. Getting everyone took too much time.
But then he remembered one of his backups. And Palkia… Palkia! Right!
“Remi—I mean, Sera—”
“Just call me whatever!”
“Sera, do me a favor. Get Mom”—He pointed at Amia—“and bring her back with us. She’s going to try to sacrifice herself and we don’t want that.”
“How do you know that?!”
Owen stared at her.
“…Okay, good point. Fine. What are you doing?”
“Buying us some time.” When he saw the distrustful look in her eyes, he added, “No, I won’t be doing any sacrifices. Let’s move!”
Sera sprinted after Amia as Owen broke for the rest of the crowd. “Gahi!” he shouted into the wind.
“Oi!” Gahi appeared next to him.
Owen almost laughed—he truthfully had no idea where he’d been.
“Help get everyone to Kilo Village,” Owen said. “Teleport, anything. Ask for extra energy. My orders.”
He questioned nothing and vanished.
Okay. Owen could be confident that the slowest and the stragglers would be safe. Now, he just needed…
There! It was hard to miss Mispy thanks to her size and shape. But just before he could get to the Meganium, her thoughts entered his mind.
“Feed the fire.”
Owen halted his flight. Feed the fire? Amia was having trouble, yes, but how was he supposed to—
“Idiot. Grass!”
Well, she didn’t have to be rude about—oh!
Klent, can you hear me? I know how you can help!
I know what you mean. We’ll do all we can.
That was all he needed. Alexander—or whatever was now controlling his ever-expanding, amorphous body—poked his black tendrils through the flames, sizzling within yet pushing past the fire. Yet as Owen beat his wings, spreading little seedlings into the ground, which sprouted into Grass spirits, he flew across the border and spat beams of fire at the largest tendrils.
Then, the seeds sprouted into Grass spirits. Most of them took on Owen’s old, grassy Charmander form, their tails high in the air, the daffodil at the end shining with power. They focused on the flames, growing branches and brambles directly into them, fueling the fire. Thorns lasted longer and became sharp and brittle, breaking into the black tendrils that tried to cross over.
For a moment, the whole stretch of land that Alexander had tried to cross was blocked by a wall of flame and burning thorns. He couldn’t break through… at least for now, and at least as Palkia evacuated more and more Hearts. Their army had thinned to nearly half by now… but Owen had a sinking feeling it was easier due to how many they’d already lost. He could sense divinity in Alexander—powers already stolen away.
Owen beat his wings to fly the other way. He had to keep reinforcing the wall, keep powering his spirits. Too far and they’d evaporate. Too close and Alexander would break through. To Owen, Amia already felt tired. Her spirits were flickering. Did they stall enough?
A golden flash caught his attention and he reflexively brought up a Protect.
“Ah! Oh, Barky. Hi.”
He was still headless, with the Hands of Creation replacing what had been there in a twist of golden tendrils.
“…Going for a new look?”
“I will help you.”
“Oh—okay. How will you—”
Owen abruptly dipped down, narrowly dodging a concussive, golden beam smashing into the ground just beyond the wall of fire. The tips of the burning plant matter were singed, but that was a small price to pay for the exploding blackness on the other side.
“Father!”
Then came Leph, appearing right beside Barky with wide eyes. “What are you doing?! You’re in no state to fight.”
“I will not flee.”
“What’s gotten into you?!”
“I don’t think he’s all there, Leph,” Owen said gently. “I think this is the part of him that’s… more dedicated to answering everyone’s prayers.”
As Owen said it, the further realization hit him: Surely, whether they intended to or not, perhaps all of Kilo and all of former Kilo—souls past and present—were praying for victory. And to Barky’s mind, the one that had dedicated itself to answering those prayers…
“But Barky, you can’t help everyone if you throw yourself away like this,” Owen tried to reason, shouting over the beam’s explosive force that pounded into his head. “You can help even more people if you evacuate with us, right?”
Barky did not reply. He only kept firing. Only seconds after the first beam finished, the second one blasted a hole through Alexander. He was expanding faster than Barky was destroying, but Alexander’s speed had slowed enough that everyone else would surely get away. Amia and her spirits even had a moment to relax as Owen’s Grass spirits bolstered their plant barriers.
“He’s bleeding around the sides,” Leph reported.
It was far away thanks to how far Owen had flown, but it was true. Alexander’s sea of darkness expanded over the sides of the walls, though it was still at a bad angle to approach Kilo.
“It’s like an ocean,” Owen whispered.
“It is an ocean,” Leph said gravely. “I know exactly what happened.”
“What?”
Barky fired again. Leph raised her voice, though Owen wondered if some of it was telepathic.
“Alexander was tapping into the Voidlands’ ultimate power to defeat us at the cost and risk of everything else. He wanted to win and conquer… yet I wonder, if he did, if he wouldn’t have been able to control what he’d tapped into: The Abyssal Ocean.”
Owen remembered that place. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi had touched the waters and instantly became Void Shadows. It was the most spirit-tainting force across all Kilo’s realities. Gods… Alexander had used that to power himself?
“It’s more than that.”
Amia had limped to them. Despite taking no damage, it seemed like she’d burned almost all her energy to make the initial fire. She was out.
“You may not remember this, dear,” Amia said weakly, “but a long time ago, my mother—Manaphy—tried to swap Alexander’s personality with the one she suspected was within him. The second head that lost its dominance… Your father is similar; only with him, his heads had agreed with each other, in the end. His ‘harsher’ side came out in times of strife, usually to defend family or threaten attackers…”
She smiled faintly, leaning against Owen, who brought a wing down to make sure she was comfortable. Eventually, he had her rest on his back for now so she could stop focusing on flying.
“Oh, but when we swapped Alexander… it was worse.”
The Gardevoir stared at the groaning, roaring wall of abyss beyond the flames.
“It was a monster. Thoughtless and hungry. If Shadows are supposed to bring about the dark truth that everyone suppresses… all that happened was Alexander’s suppressed self burst out and consumed what had been driving his body. His personalities swapped again.”
That explained a few things. Owen glared at his hand, still envisioning the javelin that could have ended it all had he been just a little faster…
Barky fired a fourth time. It was weaker.
“Father!” Leph shouted. “Come on! We’ve bought enough time! Let’s go already!”
Was it? Owen eyed the encroaching Abyssal Sea embodiment. Perhaps to get them to Kilo Village, but as twilight cast its long, long shadow toward Kilo Mountain.
“I will fight.”
“Father! Ugh, can we… can we tell the others to pray for him to return, or something?! He isn’t listening!”
“He was himself before,” Owen said, “wasn’t he?”
“Oi, oi!” Gahi appeared above them all, waving his arms. “Let’s go! Palkia’s about ready, an’ that tide’s getting’ real bad from up ‘ere!”
The flames were dying out. The bramble barriers were rotting. They had seconds before the sea would be upon them.
“Father, please, wake up!” Leph urged. She put a hoof to his side. “Why are you—”
And she stopped, eyes wide.
“Leph?” Owen asked.
Despite floating, she staggered back, her hooves clacking on ethereal platforms. “Oh, you can’t be…”
Owen frowned and did the same. Barky seemed normal by his Perceive. But when Owen’s claws gently pressed into Barky’s fur…
He was hollow.
Not bodily, no. Flesh and blood, it was all there in his physical form. But spiritually, the aura, the container of all that divine power… Owen may as well have pressed his claws onto a clay pot.
“He’s dying,” Owen whispered. “What? Why is he dying?”
The ocean roared. Misshapen heads emerged from crests, faint glimmering lights for eyes staring hungrily at them fifty feet away.
“Gahi! Take Amia and go!” Owen commanded, tilting his back toward the Psychic Flygon.
“What about you?!”
“Come back for me.”
Gahi beat his wings a few times, squeezing his claws in annoyance, but zipped to Amia anyway. She didn’t object, but she did stare at Owen with a knowing glare: Don’t do anything silly.
Owen nodded meekly. He knew not to.
It wasn’t himself he was worried about.
Once again, Barky fired, but the beam flickered and faded. The clay pot was utterly empty. The Abyssal Sea washed over the bramble, and the Grass spirits fled into Owen’s realm once more.
“Why is he dying?” Leph whispered again.
“Alexander’s attack must have done more than we thought. It siphoned his power, or…” Owen shook his head. “Barky, we can fix this! Please!” We can’t lose both gods… Do you even know?
But Barky moved toward the Abyssal Sea. Owen knew not to try stopping him—or he’d risk getting caught in that corrosive amalgamation next. He’d resisted it before… but didn’t want to risk anything now.
He’d silently promised Amia, after all, and mentally promised so many others.
“What are you DOING?” Leph cried.
“Don’t!” Owen shouted—but toward Leph, grabbing her hind leg.
“Ugh! Let go, he’s going to—”
“I don’t know what he’s doing, but we can’t get any closer!”
And Arceus fell in. With a thick splash, like falling into syrup, his body halfway descended into it while the Hands of Creation spread wide, grasping at… spirits and others caught in the sea, pulling them in through those tendrils. And with it, flecks of gold also funneled into that empty clay pot. He was wrestling the control of countless souls and divine energy that Alexander had stolen, consuming it all for himself.
He was siphoning the stolen Hands Alexander had taken…!
“W-we have to get him out!” Owen said. “He’s taking the—”
“I know! But how do we—I can’t get in there, I—”
“Leph.”
Leph and Owen stopped panicking. Owen’s eyes darted about, finding the best, safest route to use his Protect.
“Leph,” Barky repeated as the Abyssal Seal pulled Arceus deeper. Even though Arceus was temporarily funneling that power away, claiming it as his own… the war would be lost. The sea would consume him and all he’d reclaimed.
“Father…”
“Aren’t I… a failure?”
Leph went completely still. Owen didn’t understand Barky’s words; if anything, he’d been… making up for a lot of past failures. This could reverse everything, if they could just find a way to get him out of there!
“What are you talking about?!” Owen called. “Just hold still! We’re almost, uh, we’ll find a way to get you out of there!”
The golden head that the tendrils had formed to replace Barky’s old one stared at Owen. He looked serene, even as the abyss clawed him deeper into its darkness, tearing his flesh to get to the divinity within.
“Leph. Aren’t I a failure?” Barky asked again. The clay pot was full. Owen couldn’t see a trace of a Hand within Alexander’s ocean. But that wouldn’t matter. Soon, he’d be claimed, and even more power would spill into him!
Owen, exasperated, tensed his arms. It was time for another Protect dive. He’d done it once before, so—
“Yes,” Leph choked out. “Yes, Father! You are a… complete… and t-total… FAILURE!”
The golden head’s eyes dimmed in peace and halted its gentle resistance to the abyss. Instead, seconds before it fell completely, countless golden beams of light fired into Leph—some from nearby parts of the sea, ripping great gashes and holes into the tar. Owen sensed spirits and divine power bolstering Leph more than before—it was like he was staring at the sun.
It was a Promise. Barky broke one. He and Star had…
Barky’s body disappeared, leaving a small vacuum in the sea that quickly enclosed upon itself. Leph, in tears, tapped Owen on the shoulder.
In an instant, he was standing in Kilo Village again. Briefly disoriented, he stumbled back, only to land on a golden barrier Leph erected to catch him.
The new god collapsed to her forelegs’ knees, bowing at nothing.
Scattered about the central square were the combatants. Most of the Thousand Hearts, though notably not all of them. Owen didn’t need Perceive to tell that their numbers had thinned considerably.
He heard some of their murmurs…
“Did we win?”
“Doesn’t feel like it…”
“Where’s Arceus? No, the other one, where’s…”
“Isn’t Mew supposed to be here?”
“I just want to go home…”
“Grandma?! But you’re—”
“Please, is it over?”
Dialga approached Owen from behind. Palkia was leaning against him, both pearls on his shoulders cracked badly. There wasn’t going to be any more teleporting for him…
“I believe it’s my turn, then,” Dialga said. “Per what we’d discussed. But, Owen…”
“Yeah. I know.” Owen turned to face Dialga. “How long until you can launch it?”
The diamond in Dialga’s chest was so bright it glimmered pure white.
“Just about now,” Dialga replied.
“Then don’t waste any time. Do—”
Suddenly, someone shrieked—a scout flying high above. “It’s climbing! Oh, gods, it’s climbing!”
Owen and Dialga took to the skies, but Gahi was much faster to see the same thing. The Flygon’s shoulders dropped in disbelief.
The entire western side of Kilo Mountain was awash in black tar… and the tide was rising, flowing around to the northern and southern fronts. At this rate, Kilo Mountain would be surrounded before sunset. And once the last glimmer of light left the village, they would never see the sun again.
“I’ll start,” Dialga said quickly, flying away and to the center of the caldera, yet incredibly high in the sky. Meanwhile, Owen flew toward Gahi just in time to see the tar leaking into the top of the mountain—about to spill over and into Kilo Village itself.
If that happened, it was all over.
But everyone was exhausted. Most of the Hearts were fleeing from what had become a mindless, all-devouring force of nature. Worse than a fire, worse than a flood, the Abyssal Sea’s avatar and puppet would turn everything into more of itself.
Owen didn’t know how to stop a rising tide. All this time, adrenaline had been keeping him rushing forward. Every obstacle had an answer. Even in these few precious seconds, they had to push the sea out for Dialga’s protective barrier to work.
But he didn’t know how to do that. He didn’t have an answer for this. And in that pause, the adrenaline completely left him. And he was just a feral Charizard flying in the sky as dark waters spilled into his home.
“What do I do?” Owen whispered.
“What, yer askin’ me?!” Gahi shouted, wings flared. “I… I dunno what ter do here!” He squeezed his fists. “But we gotta fight, don’t we?! Yer the tactician!”
“Fight… what? What do we fight anymore?” Owen asked. “It’s… it’s a force. It’s just a bunch of people in a sea of… that.” He felt like he’d had a plan for this. But his mind felt muddled. Fatigued. He couldn’t remember.
“Then fight all of it!” Gahi said. “C’mon!”
And then he vanished. He hovered just above the water, Psychic bubble around his body, as he blasted the water back over the caldera. It worked, where he was. But everywhere else continued.
But Gahi wasn’t the only one taking the lead now. Mispy’s Solar Beam split the sky in two, blasting apart a whole segment of the advancing sea even from her position at the base of the caldera’s incline. At the edges of the village, fliers took to the skies to blow gusts of wind.
Then came Aramé, once again, conjuring giant meteor showers. She alone handled the northwestern front, replacing parts of the Caldera’s edge with smoldering dragonfire. Anam, riding atop Giratina’s back, shored up the southeastern front with beams of Radiant energy. Countless specters, led by James, fired volley after volley of Shadow Balls to batter the sea’s souls further.
Owen tried to summon his own energy. Where had it all gone? He was exhausted…
Cool mist seeped into his scales.
“Owen?”
It was Zena, flowing around him like water. The Life Dew eased wounds he didn’t realize he had. It didn’t restore his stamina, but the aches were… better.
“You look awful, Owen,” Zena said. She herself was no better, once prismatic scales tarnished crimson and black.
“I—I have to keep fighting, don’t I?” Owen took in a sharp breath and beat his wings harder. “Yeah. Just a little longer. Dialga’s going to buy us some time.”
“What better person to do it,” Zena said. “Come. Let’s—”
An ethereal roar drowned out Zena’s voice. Leph, bright like a sun, darted toward the western edge of Kilo Village. The Hands of Creation jutted out of her back like spikes, entire salvos of golden bullets arcing through the air and onto the caldera, coating the rocks in divine, crackling energy. When the sea touched it, it evaporated and bubbled away, repelled like it had touched a hot flame.
“G-guess she’s handling that part!” Owen said. “DIALGA! It’s time!”
“Well said!” Dialga declared, his voice booming over the mountain.
A pulse of energy that shimmered like an ocean’s sunrise pulsed out from Dialga, enveloping the whole of Kilo Village and everyone else in it. Sigils appeared on the edges of the barrier, six in total, spread evenly across the oceanic bubble. They reminded Owen of the internals of a watch, spinning and spinning, wreathed in indigo flames.
Dialga remained there, floating above and in the center of the caldera. Everyone else was marveling at the barrier, wondering what had just happened. On the western front, Leph stopped her barrage, staring at the sea that had nearly splashed over and into the Caldera. But now… it seemed nearly frozen in place.
No. When Owen looked closely, really squinted at the view, the ocean still moved. But it was slow. Very, very slow.
“One hundred seconds out there, one second in here,” Dialga said with a grunt. “It’s as close to a pause that this world allows at such a scale. Any further and I fear the side-effects.”
“Th-that should do,” Owen said, hovering next to Dialga while staring down at the Hearts already shuffling around. Without much command, they recognized what had to be done. They were already recovering and preparing for the next assault.
“Can you come down?” Owen asked. “Maybe relax?”
“…I’m afraid not,” Dialga said. “What I’m doing now is… strenuous when in the presence of Alexander, or what’s left of him. I didn’t slow the outside world. He was too strong. I sped up this place instead… and to maintain that speed, I must stay here. And focus.”
Owen nodded warily. “How long do we have?”
Dialga jerked his head to his left. Owen followed the gaze to one of the clockwork sigils.
“That symbol… what is it?”
“I came up with it myself. It should be an indicator of how much energy the barrier has left… Once the last sigil vanishes, the barrier will drop. And I will be out of energy.”
One of the six sigils was already looking paler, save for one of the spinning gears inside of it that kept shining.
Owen exhaled. “Estimates?”
“You have… rgh… perhaps, one kilo,” Dialga said, “optimistically.”
That was hardly any time at all. But better than nothing. “I’ll spread the word. Thank you, Dialga, for—”
Several startled cries and a head-rattling rumble of the earth cut Owen off.
Below, a great spire of stone emerged from the ground, going right for Dialga. At first, he braced for impact… but the stone spire, taller than all the rest of Kilo Village, slowed to a stop right at the Timekeeper’s feet. A faint golden pulse channeled from the base of the spire and into Dialga’s hooves.
Dialga relaxed his stance and stared at the barrier. The spinning gears shined a little brighter. “Two kilos,” Dialga said with an eased sigh.
Owen landed atop the makeshift spire and leaned over the edge. There, he saw the flickering, radiant form of Necrozma rising up, though it seemed to be a struggle.
“Valle!” Owen cheered. “You’re back to normal!”
“That’s a generous statement,” the Overseer grunted, reaching a wing toward the edge of the stone spire before faltering. He chirped a surprise; Owen caught him by the prismatic claws and pulled him up, letting the crystal dragon flop onto his back. The light of his body seemed colder than usual; the stone didn’t melt to his touch.
“Are you feeling alright?” Owen asked.
“Better. Improving. But I’m not quite… battle-ready. I apologize. But I at least tapped into the Rock Orb within me to give Dialga a… platform.”
“It’s appreciated. More energy to focus on the barrier.”
“…And what about you, Owen?” Necrozma tilted his head to face the Charizard. His light-made frills pulsed against the stone floor as he tried to sit up, but was already too tired to do more. He settled for the bed of stone.
“I’ve… got to make sure everyone else is alright. And then I need to ask Xerneas for some help. And the rest of Team Alloy, and Leph if she can, for… one last backup plan.”
“Backups upon backups,” Necrozma said with a faint laugh. “You truly have the makings of an Overseer, Owen. You should consider it when your time here is done.”
“We’ll see,” Owen replied evasively. “But for now, I want to focus on now.”
Necrozma nodded. His eyes dimmed as if closing them. “I will let you plan. Ask me for any advice, if you like.”
“I appreciate it, but… for now, I think I have everything I need. But thank you. And… sorry for blasting you with a giant laser cannon. Um, twice. At the same time. While you were also exploding.”
“Oh, none taken,” Necrozma replied. “I wasn’t quite myself… I appreciate knocking that corruption out of me.”
“Yeah…”
Necrozma chuckled again, his light body glimmering with every laugh. “That technique of yours. A combination of Mimic, Protect, and Radiant Bestow… and this world’s aura backlash. All at once… Very clever. You could conquer gods with that technique. No wonder you’re dubbed a Usurper.”
“Yeah. Just didn’t think I’d be usurping this god.” He glanced over the caldera. This stone spire was taller than the volcano’s edges, giving him a good view of the frozen twilight. “…Shouldn’t it be a lot darker? And redder?”
“What?”
“If we’re going a hundred times faster, then light would be coming in a hundred times slower, right? And… I read about this thing where longer lights are… redder, or something.”
Necrozma stared at him.
“You know what I’m talking about, right?”
“…I’ll be honest,” Necrozma said awkwardly, “I didn’t realize this world understood how light worked at that level. This world’s stars are just a glimmering shell encasing the sky. But I imagine some… divine magic on Diagla’s side is allowing us to see what is happening on the other side without those distortions.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Helps for planning, at least.”
A glimmering shell encasing the sky… That made sense, he supposed, for such a temporary world… For some reason, it made Owen feel claustrophobic.
“Also, at a hundred times longer, you wouldn’t see light of that wavelength,” Necrozma murmured.
Owen tittered, stretching his wings. “Do your best recovering, Necrozma. Every bit might help. Dialga, thanks for this. You’ve saved the world by giving us a chance to breathe.”
“Don’t speak too soon,” Dialga said, though he was smiling.
He nodded. Owen dove down, knowing that he only had moments to get everything set up for his final stand. After this… there were no more tricks. No time left to buy. And no backup plans to go.
It all came down to one last maneuver.
In the distance, already, the first gear faded away.