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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.
 

Namohysip

Dragon Enthusiast
Chapter 200 – The Frozen Dusk

Beep beep beep!

“It’s alright,” Koraidon said. “We’re going faster.”

“By how much?”

“A factor of 100. Seems to be the standard Overworld limit. They bought themselves some time… quite an investment.”

Miraidon’s pixilated eyes flashed with surprise. “They dilated time? This backwoods universe has control over time dilation?”

“I wouldn’t underestimate Pokémon,” Koraidon hummed. “Let’s see… oh! It seems that the other Overseer is responsive and not compromised. Let’s establish contact…”

The constellations in the observatory shifted. A gentle golden light washed over a nebulae in front of their window.

“…Enforcer Necrozma. Are you there?” Miraidon said.

“Hm!” The firm, ethereal voice of Necrozma’s thoughts echoed cleanly. “I hear you. I haven’t had contact through this mental channel in some time.”

“Yes. We are here to observe things in Kilo at this critical juncture. We have everything necessary for universal destruction prepared if you are able to establish a go-forward from within. At least… that is what we would normally say. We have been told that this is still not possible, and also not necessary.”

“You were told correctly.”

Miraidon hummed, displeased. “And… that the person you are relying on is a Usurper. Mortal fire lizard who, through a series of associations, climbed the ranks of the pantheon while obtaining echoes of their power until he reached the point of rivalry without being under their dominion.” Miraidon read through the abstract of one of their reports. “In fact, it says here that an analysis has confirmed he has already sown his soul into the fabric of the world’s reality… and has been this way for a thousand of this world’s years.”

Koraidon whispered, “How long is a thousand years here?”

“About fifty ages,” Miraidon murmured back.

“Oh, that’s long.”

“You are able to clear my mental state from there?”

“Yes. We don’t believe you are compromised.”

“Good. That’s good to know. You can never tell from within, after all. I’d like to confirm that I trust this Usurper. He’s a class 3-A.”

Koraidon hastily flipped through a notebook. Miraidon rolled her digitized eyes and said, “High power, no hostility.”

“I knew that.”

“…Are you new to this?”

“No,” Koraidon said.

“Yes,” Miraidon also said.

“They are under my wings, Necrozma,” said Ho-Oh, stepping into the observation room while overseeing a model of Kilo, now largely frozen except for a single town in the center of its only major landmass. “I also met this Usurper. But 3-A? Very bold of you. How long will such a state last in a mortal?”

“Long enough to give it one final chance.”

Miraidon sighed. “I understand. Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Further outside interference is too risky for now. Remain on standby. Should the advancing abyssal force claim all souls… you may proceed. I accept responsibility for my mistake if so. Otherwise, there is hope. That is what I have learned about this reality.”

Koraidon smirked. “Sounds like it’s infected you anyway, no matter what the readings say.”

Necrozma chuckled. “Perhaps it has.”

The connection dropped. Miraidon sighed and drifted to the other end of the room. “Well, you heard him. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

Ho-Oh beamed, eyes watching the world below.

“It’s truly amazing, isn’t it?” he asked. “Such a tiny, tiny world, yet with such grand powers within… all propped up by these things like willpower. Volatile and chaotic, and yet…”

“There he goes again,” Miraidon murmured.

Koraidon kicked back and smiled all the same. “Alright, Usurper. Let’s see your plan.”

<><><>​

“Great. The Grand Waypoint turned into a giant tower for Dialga.” Diyem grumbled, arms crossed. “Even if we save the town, that’s going to be a real eyesore…”

His eyes trailed over to Anam, who was chatting it up with many of his old friends—Rora and the others, glowing faintly from their physical manifestations of Forrest’s Tree of Life.

It burned. Diyem had to keep his distance for his own safety. He’d overheard Anam trying to catch up and ask questions, only to break down in tears and hugs all the same. Disgusting. Diyem had to remind himself it was disgusting so he didn’t burst into flames.

Eventually, Diyem heard the wet footsteps of the huge Goodra getting louder. Oh no.

A gooey embrace overwhelmed Diyem, staggering the Charizard forward.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for freeing them all that time ago.”

Diyem harshly shrugged Anam off and spread his wings. “That will kill me,” he warned, wincing as acid ran through his blood.

“Oh… s-sorry,” Anam said, poking his feelers together. “But… I know why you couldn’t tell me. Rora said it’s because it would have hurt you badly, too. You needed my guilt… and stuff, to stay alive while I made the world better, right? I understand…”

“Mm. Anam, you should rally the Hearts. They still need you,” he reminded. “And… we don’t have a lot of time left. Owen warned us on his way to Xerneas that those clockwork sigils on the barrier are our countdown until time outside returns to normal.”

“Oh. Okay.” Anam nodded firmly. “I’m gonna rally everyone. And then we’ll save all of Kilo… The final fight!”

Diyem couldn’t encourage Anam. He wanted to… but he was already at his limit. Too much hope and his body would fall apart.

“Go,” he commanded.

Anam seemed to understand. He sprinted down the road to where Madeline was already organizing the able-bodied to get ready for one last assault.

With that, however, Diyem spun on his heels and faced Rora and the others, each and every one of them covered in purple slime. They tried to clean themselves off to mixed results.

Tyranitar Rora seemed to have become their representative, for one reason or another. And as Diyem approached, the Tyranitar’s expression went from somber to serious, looking down at Diyem.

“Rora,” Diyem greeted.

“Dark Matter.”

“…Why did you lie to Anam?” Diyem said plainly.

The others of Anam’s compatriots—who had indeed been imprisoned in Diyem’s Voidlands all this time—all glanced away or shifted nervously. A few stared at Diyem anyway, intensely. He felt their hatred, though it was only simmering. He did not know what else they felt.

But he was used to that.

“Because Anam isn’t going to see us for a while after this anyway,” Rora said. His stony face broke into a faint smile. “And now that we’re finally free from you… we’ll get to pass on. Gods… has it really been that long?”

“Nearly five hundred years. I’m sorry you were gone for so long… but I could not have let anyone who fell into the Voidlands pass through the aura sea. It would have given away too much; Alexander would have found the connection, and from there—”

“I get it.” Rora raised one hand. “I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it. But I understand. It’s like Anam said… You couldn’t help it. And things can be better now. Right?”

Diyem sighed to himself. “That’s the hope I cannot comprehend. But I still don’t understand why you lied to Anam. He would have been just as well if you being dormant was enough; why did you tell him you’d passed on anyway?”

“Because that guilt was what Alexander used to pull him under,” Rora said. “The truth was too much for Anam. It weighed him down all this time. Fueled you, but eroded him. And from what we heard, the only reason the other survivors made it out was because some kid immune to the effects was dispelling it. But she couldn’t get to Anam. If I didn’t lie, Anam would have been stuck in that nightmare. He would have died to it. So…

“I denied that truth for him. And I’m gonna live with that until he’s ready to relearn it. Maybe when he’s lived a proper life, huh?”

“One you didn’t get to live,” Diyem reminded.

Rora waved his hand dismissively. “I made my peace with that. I’m fine with just moving on. But Anam… he shouldered it all. Cut him a break.”

“If he dies, he’ll learn the truth from you sooner. You won’t keep up that lie on the other side.”

“I know.” Rora prodded a claw in Diyem’s chest. “That’s why you are helping us make that not happen. Right?”

Diyem flinched. “Roping me into the lie, then.”

“What, you think you’re surviving this?” Rora asked.

That made Diyem’s blood run cold. He quickly glanced behind him. No. Anam didn’t hear that. He exhaled softly. “…No. I won’t,” he said. “The Overseers will take me away. I’ve accepted this. I probably won’t get to see Anam for… a while.”

The Scrafty of the group nervously raised a hand. “What will they do to you?”

Diyem shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ll find a way to save me. Maybe they’ll reincarnate me into something that can feel things normally. Or… maybe they’ll seal me away where I can’t feel anything at all. I don’t know how they operate.”

“Don’t say that,” Rora chided. “You know Anam, or Owen, or any of the others won’t accept that. Y’know what I think, Mr. Pessimist?”

“I don’t care, but go on.”

“I think you’ll be fine. Goodbyes aren’t always forever… and from what I know about the Overworld, maybe they never are. You’ll just change. Like everyone does.”

“Change enough, and goodbyes to the past are forever,” Diyem countered. “…But I understand what you mean.” He turned around, watching Anam as he clapped his paws to call everyone to attention. He was making a speech with that light in his eyes again. Now that Diyem thought about it, the crushing guilt that he’d always felt from Anam was… lighter.

“Thank you for… caring for him even now,” Diyem said, glancing at the sigils. The second one disintegrated… but he noticed that the gear in the center that had shone the brightest had instead fallen to the earth, still intact.

“Hm. Good luck in the incoming battle,” Diyem said. “Let’s try not to die again, yes?”

“You too,” Rora said. “So the Overseers have something left to save.”

“…Hmph.” Diyem suppressed a smile even as it burned his insides. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

<><><>​

Upon exiting a wormhole, Mhynt crossed her arms in disbelief. “…Really? This is your priority?”

A black-and-white-flamed Charmander rummaged through a pile of junk in the corner of her makeshift living space in Mhynt’s home. “Yes, of course!” Mu said. “If we’re winning this thing, I’d like to not be destitute afterward!”

“You’re the daughter of Owen! You’re set for life!” Mhynt pinched her brow. “Do you have any idea how much his savings are?”

“…He has savings?”

“Yes, and apparently they’re wonderful, because he kept forgetting about it,” Mhynt said.

“Oh, that makes sense. Wait, how’d he do that for like, centuries? An open bank account would—”

“Anam’s ruler of the world. He or someone under him probably modified those records… Why am I explaining this—Mu, we have to get—”

Mhynt heard a very subtle noise in the darker corner of the room. She immediately drew her blade and sliced at the air—stopping a hair’s width away from Hakk’s snout.

“H-holy—” Hakk froze, pinning himself to the wall.

“Oh.” Mhynt dispelled her Radiant Leaf Blade. “Sorry.”

“By the Void, Mhynt!” Hakk sank to his rump. “High-strung, much?”

As he fell, a small rectangular object clattered off his thigh.

“Hm?” Mhynt picked it up as Hakk breathed to calm down. “What’s this?”

It seemed to be some Voidland tech. When Mhynt pressed a few of the buttons, the pictures changed on the displayed screen of light. It looked like some sort of puzzle game.

“Hey—give that! It’s not finished!” Hakk grabbed it from her. She gave it up without a fight.

“Not finished?”

“Yeah, it…” Hakk was about to finish when a dark look crossed his eyes. He looked away. “It was… for Xypher.”

Mhynt’s gut tightened. “Oh.” She looked away. “I’m sorry.”

But after a pause, Hakk went on anyway. “He wasn’t the smartest. Y’know, D-class civilian and all that. But… he liked puzzle games, but the cards would always wear down. Was programming a simple, y’know… digital version of it. Was about complete. But then… yeah.”

“Right.” Mhynt tensed. She didn’t want to say anything hopeful there. Hakk would hate it. Xypher, even if he was recovered… Would he care anymore? When those memories returned, how different would he have already become?

“Y’know,” Hakk went on, leaning forward, “I knew him. From before.”

“Hakk…” Mu nervously approached. “You don’t need to, you know, talk about this if—”

“Mhynt’ll get it,” Hakk interrupted.

It was enough for the Charmander to step back with a tense stance.

Then, the icy Sandslash sighed. “He was a guardian spirit of Destiny Tower. One of many, serving Arceus, the prism of death, and… all that. Me? I was under Dark Matter’s influence, or as he was called back then, the Void King or whatever. You know, the title Alexander took.”

“You fought alongside Dark Matter… to save the world from destruction, I presume. Same as Owen?”

“Yep. Didn’t care if he was literally negativity incarnate—he was the one trying to save the world, while Necrozma wanted to destroy it.” Hakk sighed. “And during that big clash… he and I fought. And I won… sending him into the Voidlands.”

Hakk laughed ruefully, claws digging into his icy fur.

“Imagine my surprise when I met him again all those years later, only I remembered him and he didn’t.”

Mhynt nodded solemnly.

“After realizing how much I messed up, I just… defaulted to helping him. Taking care of him. So maybe one day he’d remember everything, and then one day maybe he’d… be able to forgive me, or something. I don’t know. Maybe I wanted him to yell at me… wanted to know that, maybe one day, he was in a sound enough mind that he could be mad at me.”

“You cared for him all that time… even though he might hate you by the end of it?” Mhynt summarized.

“Sounds stupid when I lay it all out there,” Hakk huffed.

“It’s not,” Mhynt said gently.

“You don’t have to agonize over it,” Mu said quietly. “You cared for Xypher for so long…”

Hakk held up a hand and Mu quickly stopped. The gentle buzz of the crowd outside drowned out Mhynt’s thoughts. Without any wind, there was nothing to relax to. Everyone was afraid yet still moving, still preparing.

“It’s my fault I had to in the first place.” Hakk quietly swore to himself, staring at the device in his hands. “He could’ve lived on. Could’ve passed on as that proud Corviknight without me. But instead, I dragged him down to the Voidlands…”

“…And you can drag him out right now,” Mu said. “That’s what we’re all trying to do. Alright?”

Hakk sighed, shoving the device into a bag before hauling it over his shoulder, careful that it didn’t bump against any of his spikes. “These are all my important things. I’m ready. We’re supposed to put these in storage, right?”

Mhynt nodded. “I’ll take you there. And afterward… why don’t we get something to eat? We haven’t had a meal all day.”

Hakk smiled faintly at that. “Yeah, fine… but we gotta be quick.” He glanced out the window at the sign of a small flash. The third sigil of six had disappeared. “Not much time left.”

<><><>​

“You’re out of power?!” Owen cried, wings spread wide.

Eon shrank back. The ribbons of his Jirachi body flowed gently in the wind, but that was the only tranquil thing about him. This was Owen’s plan, right? Well, he had no idea what the plan was, but he clearly had a plan involving Xerneas…

And now, the god of life, his antlers completely faded, only dipped his head down.

“I was told,” Xerneas said with a hint of venom, “to heal everyone, revive everyone, and keep Alexander busy and unable to advance against an infinite army. Well, as it turns out, life’s infinity has limitations!” He harrumphed. “Especially for someone with so much energy reserves like a divine entity. I cannot restore you, Owen. Even if I gave every drop of my life energy, even if I died from it, I would not—where are you going? I’m not done yelling at you!”

Owen had already turned to fly someplace else. There was a fire in his eyes.

“We don’t have time, Xerneas,” Eon said for Owen. I’m sorry, but… thank you for sustaining the line. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I… understand.” After Xerneas’ original irritation, he seemed briefly ashamed. “I suppose we could… take some of that power back. Have Yveltal cull some portion of the population, channel that power into Owen, and revive them later. That’s not too bad…”

Xerneas and Eon exchanged a look.

The Lifebringer sighed irritably. “But we both know Owen won’t accept that.”

“Even when the world is at stake, I don’t know if Owen would stand for something like that. He’d be no better than Alexander, right?”

“I don’t agree, but I know that’s how he would feel,” Xerneas conceded.

“Well, whatever it is… it looks like Owen already has another idea, or something. I hope so, at least…” Eon winced. “…No. No more hoping for Owen to do something!” He squeezed his fists. “I’m… I’ll think of something, too! I’m the Wishmaker, for Arceus’ sake!”

“You were practicing your wishes, right?” Xerneas said. “You know, Jirachi… if there’s ever a wildcard to fulfill, it’d be from you. Don’t you have a way to wish Owen back to full health?”

“…Well… hmm…” Eon brought a hand to his chin. “Hmm, hmm… I mean…”

The barrier’s fourth sigil faded and vanished. Two remained. Eon tensed, staring at it as his mind raced.

“I… I’ll be going, too,” Eon said, drifting away.

“Did you get an idea?” Xerneas called.

“No. I just need to wander. Think. Maybe something will come to me,” Eon said in a half-trance. He wasn’t a planner like Owen, but maybe some spontaneous ideas would guide him forward.

Wishmaker. He was the Wishmaker. If anyone could give Owen a miracle, after all the grief that he’d caused him already…

He’d give anything to find a way.

<><><>​

“Messy, messy, messy,” Palkia hummed, quietly nursing one of his shoulders and its cracked pearl. “I was hoping we’d’ve been done with this crisis by now, but it seems Alexander is stubborn even when his mind has been consumed.”

He was too large for most housing, and couldn’t be bothered to find one that would accommodate him. Instead, he sat just outside of Ludicolo Café. He had a good view of the inside through one of the open windows, where chaos unfolded in a beautiful tapestry of primal generosity and polite gluttony.

“Take it, go, go!” Ludicolo roared, arms outstretched. “Money isn’t real! Take the food, we’ve got it all, hurry before the world ends!”

Palkia wasn’t sure if this was sarcasm or not, but after a while of quiet observation, he’d determined it wasn’t. In fact, makeshift queues had been formed with servers working at maximum speed in the back—and even some volunteers who hadn’t even worked there—to get food prepped as quickly as possible.

They slapped berries and meats onto sandwiches and nearly threw them down the table for someone to grab. Everyone got one and left. Organized chaos. Sometimes, Palkia saw someone get two, only to pass one to someone else who’d been smaller or less able to stand in the frantic pit.

Mortals were truly beautiful creatures. Chaotic up close, yet so perfectly orderly from afar. Nevren should have understood that when he’d tried to make order out of chaos, and assumed chaos where there was order.

Palkia sighed. A shame he’d died for it. Despite being so close to mortal himself, he never truly had a chance to learn that on his own.

A series of flashing lights caught Palkia’s attention. During his daydreaming, Gahi had entered the café and was passing out food for everyone at a pace that rivaled five staff members combined.

Demitri and Mispy caught up not long after, the former panting and holding his knees. Mispy grabbed a few unused wooden seats—most Pokémon simply stood and ate their meals outside—and started munching on one of them with her vines for her personal meal. Nobody was brave enough to stop her.

But suddenly, Demitri stood up and looked behind him. Something had drawn him away. This piqued Palkia’s curiosity next, who followed. He nearly carved a portal to get a glimpse around the corner without moving, but then felt the ache in his shoulders. He couldn’t manipulate much of space right now.

Time for the old-fashioned following, then.

Just down the road, Palkia thought he’d seen Arceus—and, he had, but it was Leph, rather than the old god. On his back was Aster, wiping his tears only for more to take their place, as Leph herself drifted forward with a stony expression. Demitri surely was drawn to their raging emotions…

“Ah, hello,” Palkia said, diving straight into social contracts. “I’m sorry for all that has happened, Leph, Aster. I… will certainly do all I can to support you both when this is over.”

“I appreciate it,” Leph said, curt but Palkia did not think it was intended to be rude. “…I… spoke with Necrozma. On what may have happened to them. He does not know. But they are nowhere in Forrest’s domain nor can Hecto find any trace of them across the aura sea. If they are still in this world, they are nowhere we can see. And if not… then it seems the result of an original god losing their divinity is total destruction. A ‘Lockout,’ as Necrozma called it.”

“Ah… we must hope, then, that they are simply lost somewhere for us to find.”

“Perhaps we will find out later,” Leph said.

“Th-they can’t be gone,” Aster whimpered. “I… I don’t wanna stay if they’re gone!”

“Aster…” Leph dipped her head down. Her golden hooves dimmed with her wheel.

“It’s okay,” Demitri whispered gently, helping Aster down from Leph’s back. “How about we head in and… get something to eat? When this is all over, we can talk about things and process it, right?”

Aster sniffled, trying to push Demitri away with one hand, only displacing himself away from the Haxorus instead.

“…I’m worried about what that ocean is after,” Leph said, looking straight ahead at nothing. “Father must have known something when he was siphoning those Hands out of it. We still don’t know how direct it will be, but… Barky likely suspected that if it got a hold of every Hand of Creation, or even too many, or too many conduits like the Orbs, we would have no means to fight back.”

As Leph spoke, Jirachi had drifted into the crowd next, listening in with interest.

“He might also be trying to get to the crystals,” Leph said. “Or, as you call them, the Guardian Orbs… Those directly counter the abyssal sea, right? If they can corrode them, then cover the sky with Voidland clouds…”

“That would get rid of all major sources of Radiance,” Palkia finished. “Do you think what remains of Alexander is… able to plan enough for that?”

“Do we want to take the risk of assuming that he isn’t?” Leph countered. “We’re out of fallbacks. If Kilo Village falls, nothing will stand in his way to get to the Tree of Life and spread across the rest of the world.”

“A fair point,” Palkia said. “We are out of gambling options.”

“Um,” Jirachi spoke up. “Owen said he has one last plan, and it would have maybe… guaranteed victory, but he needed power to do it.”

“Guarantee? A tall order,” Palkia said. “Though, I suppose as of late, Owen’s plans have netted us other fragments of Dark Matter…”

Jirachi looked down, thoughtful. “And… we also need to make it so he can’t get a hold of the Guardian Orbs, right?

“Yes, though that may be difficult,” Palkia added. “I suppose if everyone falls, the Overseers will want extra time to… ah, eliminate everything. That won't be easy if every single Orb and its corresponding divine power is taken. Suddenly, Alexander holds all the cards and the Overseers and whatever strange methods they have won’t have purchase.”

“I don’t like the idea of giving these so-called Overseers that kind of power,” Leph growled. “But… it’s better than another Voidlands. We just have to be careful about how we risk our Guardians, if at all.”

“…Palkia?” Jirachi asked. “Do you plan on using your Dungeon gun?”

“Hm? No, I suppose not. Why do you ask?”

“I need it for a just-in-case,” Eon said. “It… can expand its size, right? Extremely far?”

“Yes, but then the Dungeon it creates will last for less and less time,” Palkia warned.

“That’s okay. Can I have it?”

“Oh. Well, of course.” Palkia rummaged through the pouch around his neck. “What’s your plan?”

A flash on the barrier around Kilo Village caught everyone’s attention. Some looked horrified, but then realized they had miscounted. The semifinal sigil had flickered out; this one happened to be near Ludicolo Café, at this far end of town. Palkia, still holding his Dungeon gun, spotted a strange, glimmering object falling from where that sigil had once been. A remnant of the power? Palkia was too curious. Perhaps he should investigate…

After looking back at the others, Palkia realized his hands were now empty.

<><><>​

“Send that supply to the fifth unit,” Jerry commanded. “No, no, that way! Other way, OTHER WAY! Gods, why is everyone scrambled…”

Right in front of the Heart HQ, Pokémon flooded out of the building carrying all manner of spare and experimental supplies. Tried-and-true equipment was completely depleted at this point. The world was on the line and anything that could work was considered, including the strange wands and other experiments of Nevren’s old office.

For some reason, Palkia had the keys to the room, which made having to break through the doors—and, therefore, potentially damage anything inside—not a factor.

Next to Jerry, handling some coordination with his wand and a few flaming sparks, was Delphox Leo. From what Jerry had heard, his parents hadn’t fought at the front lines, but had been working supplies with remarkable efficiency for their age.

“I think that’s all the supplies,” Leo said. “Don’t push them too hard. I think, with the time we have left, this is as good as it’s gonna get.”

Jerry sighed, flapping his wings once to get the jitters out. He accidentally sent a Totodile flying with a flick.

“Gah!”

But, thankfully, a nearby Cubone managed to catch him on the fall, softening the landing.

“…Nervous?” Leo asked.

“What kinda question is that?!”

“F-fair.” Leo looked down. “I guess I—”

“Leo!”

A ghostly white and crimson Zoroark pounced toward Leo on all fours, skidding to a stop after leaping over three people in the crowd.

Finally, I found you. How’s everything? Need help?”

“N-no, I’m fine… Who are you?”

Sera flinched. Then, she grunted and closed her eyes. A wave of light washed over her, and suddenly a Salazzle with a lightning scar stood before them. Jerry shifted awkwardly. It was still hard to look her in the eyes.

“O-oh! Oh, gods, I’m so sorry,” Leo said. “I—I heard the news, I didn’t realize—”

“Whatever, it’s okay,” Spice said. “C’mon, final tasks? We’re down to seconds!”

“No, I think we’re done here.”

“Okay, good, because we need help setting up the western barricades with Owen,” Spice explained. “C’mon! This one’s a Team Alight mission!”

“W-wait, you still wanted to be part of that?”

“Duh!” Spice shouted. “Ugh—sorry. Little Sis gave me that lingo. But—yes. It’s kind of the only life I had where I was employed, so it’s a pretty good part to keep!”

She grabbed his paw and pulled him along. Leo followed, struggling to keep up. “Wait—why do your hands feel scaly? I thought this was an Illusion!”

“Void Shadow. Don’t worry about it!”

And off they went…

Jerry sighed and nodded to himself, glancing at the barrier’s sigil one more time. It was pale. That final one was going to go down in moments, and then it was their final stand. Just holding the line until… morning? Was that the plan? Or…

Far down the road, Jirachi was talking to Anam and Madeline about something. Anam looked close to tears, while Madeline nodded gravely. They put their grabbers onto a strange device that Jirachi was holding, channeling Radiance into it.

Then, an orange flame caught Jerry’s eye. Owen flew over the crowd with purpose, and it looked like he’d gotten a hold of Leph and the rest of his Team Alloy.

“Tch…” Jerry found himself smirking. He remembered when they were just a quartet of little misfit Pokémon who took him down in his Dungeon of choice for mugging someone. Awful times.

Jerry flew ahead, sensing panic in the air. “Hey, HEY!” he said. “No giving up yet, you hear?!”

One street over, Angelo and his father were conjuring enchantments for their best fighters. The same ones from before, since they’d been so effective. Realizing that the crowd around them was thinning, yet the two Angelos were still brimming with second wind energy, Jerry found his purpose.

He flew down another street to command strong, capable fighters to head to Angelo. But on the way, a flash of gray caught his eye. He stopped, briefly, as if by instinct.

Another Aerodactyl, the spitting image of himself, yet a bit older and female. He’d know those kind eyes anywhere, even after all these years…

Her tremors weren’t there.

She noticed him, too. Her mouth opened briefly, but the frenzy of yet another commotion had earned a glance from her.

Jerry took that second, savoring every moment. His heart ached, but… he was also satisfied. That was all he wanted. He didn’t smile. Instead, he gave a firm nod to her. And, after a stunned pause, she nodded back with equal resolution.

And the two went down their separate paths.

The barrier of time separating slow from fast faded, returning Kilo to its darkening skies. The final sigil disintegrated.

The abyss roared at Kilo Village, and the Pokémon of Kilo Village roared back.
 
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