If Dreams Can't Come True, Then Why Not Pretend?

“Nia!” Tobias lunges forward just in time to keep Nia from collapsing. The riolu is complete deadweight, and nearly takes him down with her.

Samir quickly helps Tobias hold her weight, and the three of them sink to the ground. Tobias pulls Nia into his lap even as her head lolls back and panic sparks in his chest.

“Nia!” Junie echoes, fluttering down to perch next to the riolu’s face. “W-What’s wrong with her? Is she okay?”

“She’s breathing,” Tobias says, trying to stay calm.

He reaches for her pulse. Her heartbeat is fast and fluttery, but seems to be slowing down to something more natural. He quickly scans her body for a serious injury, but doesn’t see any unexpected blood or twisted bones.

“Let me,” Soren says quietly, kneeling down in front of them.

To Tobias’ relief, the lucario doesn’t try to take Nia away from him. Instead, he simply holds a paw over her chest as dark blue aura shines around him, lifting the long appendages framing his face.

As they wait with bated breath, Tobias glances up at the sound of metallic wingbeats. Bo lands beside them, casting a look over everyone before settling on Nia.

The skarmory abandoned the fight with Yveltal, so he must be confident that the god is down for the count. Tobias looks behind the steel type, just long enough to spot both Yveltal and Giratina lying unconscious, their gigantic forms sprawled across a third of the battlefield like fallen trees amidst a field of flowers. Purple embers of light float off the two of them from what must’ve been the final attack.

“She is alive,” Soren says, grabbing Tobias’ attention again.

“I know she’s alive,” Tobias snaps, fear making him sharp. “But is she okay?”

Tobias doesn’t like how long Soren hesitates, a furrow to his brow like he isn’t sure how to answer.

“She is…stable.”

“But?” Junie presses.

“But there is something…odd, about her aura,” Soren admits, his eyes still trained on Nia. “It could just be the aftermath of so much power filtering through her body, but her soul is…dormant.”

“So she’s just sleeping?” Junie asks, her ruffled feathers starting to flatten with relief.

“No, aura is still active when one sleeps. This is…something different.”

Tobias holds Nia a little tighter. “Well, what do we do?”

“For now, she doesn’t appear to be in immediate danger, so just let her rest and recover,” Soren says. “Her aura may awaken in its own time.”

Tobias doesn’t like such an uncertain, nebulous answer, but if it’s an aura thing and even Soren doesn’t recognize it, then he’s not sure what else they can do.

“She’s unharmed otherwise?” a tired voice asks. Tobias turns to see Fidel limping his way over.

“No worse off than the rest of us,” Soren confirms. He looks past the zoroark, down the altar, and narrows his eyes at Yveltal’s still form.

“He’s unconscious,” Fidel says, sounding wholly confident in the fact. “I recognized the last move Giratina used to take him down. Destiny bond isn’t letting either of them up for at least a day.”

A collective sigh of relief moves through the group.

“Good,” Soren says. “I’m hoping Yveltal will simply fall back into dormancy to heal, but if he doesn’t then we’ll need that time to figure out a backup plan for sealing him away.”

Tobias shudders as Samir and Junie shift closer. His eyes drift past the bodies of the two titans below, and out to the battlefield beyond, where injured ‘mon—Seekers and outlaws alike—are slowly regrouping. They’re checking on one another, picking around the bodies splayed out across the stone and half-submerged in water. Hopefully most of the downed Pokemon are only knocked out, and nothing worse.

The Pokemon frozen into stone by Yveltal’s life-stealing attack dot the landscape like a macabre garden of statues. Like a graveyard. Can something like that be reversed, or are all of those Pokemon already gone, their lives used to strengthen Yveltal's fury?

Is that why Will went to the trouble of bringing them here in the first place?

A quiet, choked cry snags Tobias’ attention. He looks over, then bares his teeth with a hiss.

Will has woken up from Fidel’s quick knock-out. The yamask is pushing himself up from the stone, staring at the mended sky with wide, disbelieving eyes that shine with tears. His mouth gapes as if to speak, before falling closed again. Tobias can see him shaking from here.

“Y-You…what did you do?”

“Stopped your insane plan,” Tobias growls.

“No…no…” Will slowly shakes his head, and then sobs, tears rolling down his cheeks. “No! This can’t—I worked for years on this. The gate was open, I-I was so close to getting back to them, a-and I…”

“Ironic, that one human saved this world when another tried so hard to destroy it,” Soren murmurs.

Will’s shaking fingers curl into the stone beneath him. He slowly lowers, until he can press his forehead to ground, a wail tearing from his lungs and echoing around the quiet area.

Tobias can hear the pain in it. It sounds like how Tobias felt when he lost his family. Like Nia, remembering her death. He hates that something like pity jabs him in the chest.

But Will also tried to end everything in this world. Millions of lives. And Tobias recalls with vivid clarity how easily Will went for a killing blow with that psyshock attack when they first arrived on the altar. If Fidel hadn’t intervened, then Nia might’ve been—

No. The pity in Tobias’ chest shrivels up as quickly as it grew. He just can’t find it in himself to feel sympathetic, no matter how miserable the yamask looks right now. Nia would probably feel bad for Will if she was awake, but Tobias isn’t as understanding as his partner.

“Oh, quit that noise,” a familiar voice says, sharp.

A moment later, a shadow claw attack grabs Will, squeezing him tight enough to make his wailing cut off with a garbled cry. On the other end of the attack is Rosalind. She crests the stairs at a leisurely pace, her dark eyes piercing into Will with predatory intent.

Looks like the hatterene isn’t feeling any love for her old “friend,” either.

“I should rip you to shreds for trying to backstab me like you did,” Rosalind says. She tilts her head with amusement as the yamask scrabbles weakly at her grip, trying to gasp for air.

“Rosalind, stop,” Fidel says, quietly.

Rosalind squeezes harder.

The zoroark leaps between the two, using his own shadow claw attack to sever the connection and standing defensively in front of Will. Behind him, Will falls limply onto the rocks, gasping for air between wracking sobs.

“Oh? I thought you abandoned your precious Will, Fidel. You just can’t seem to be loyal to anyone, can you?”

Fidel shuts his eyes for a long moment, clearly gathering himself, but he doesn’t back down. “I could no longer support what he was doing, Rosalind. That doesn’t mean I’m going to just stand aside and watch you kill him.”

Rosalind gives a bitter laugh. “Oh, please. He had no qualms about killing you. You or your son.”

“I’m aware,” Fidel says, sounding so, so tired. “That does not change my decision.”

There’s a long, tense moment of quiet. Tobias fears Fidel and Rosalind are about to duke it out, right here and now.

“Spitfire! Is everyone all right?”

Everyone turns at the sound of Azami’s voice. Val is carrying the tsareena on her back, and a moment later, Tobias realizes why, noting the white scarf—probably lent from another ‘mon—wrapped around Azami’s thigh. She must’ve gotten a nasty injury during the battle.

Azami’s clearly relieved once she catches sight of Tobias and Samir and Junie, but her expression tightens with concern once she spots Nia. Val lets Azami off her back, but still supports the tsareena as the two of them hobble closer.

“Nia is unharmed,” Soren says, then amends, “mostly unharmed. Hopefully only in need of rest.”

Some of the tension leaves Val’s shoulders, and Azami breathes a sigh of relief. The tsareena’s eyes skim over everyone else, lingering on Fidel and Rosalind’s tense faceoff. Her brow creases.

“August isn’t up here yet?”

Tobias swallows hard against a fresh lump of grief in his throat, blinking back tears. Samir hangs their head, as if ashamed. Junie hides her face in Nia’s neck.

“He’s gone,” Tobias finally rasps.

Azami’s reaction is quieter than Tobias expects, her eyes closing in a pained expression as she clings harder to Val without a word. The medicham bows her head, as if in prayer.

Maybe the two of them expected this on some level. They both worked closely with August as this was all going down, when he was already so heavily injured.

Rosalind hums, some of the fury in her voice gone as she says, “Unfortunate.”

Somehow, Tobias thinks she’s being genuine. As if in their short time together, and despite being on opposite sides of the law, Rosalind had grown to respect the rillaboom on some level.

Of course, the tension returns immediately the moment Fidel shifts. The zoroark cautiously backs up, keeping Rosalind in sight as he steps over Will. Fidel hesitates as he looks down at the yamask, who is still sobbing quietly into the stone underfoot. Then, the zoroark leans down to scoop him up. Will’s fingers curl into Fidel’s fur as he cries into the zoroark’s chest.

“It’s cute that you think you can protect him,” Rosalind says. “It’s idiotic that you even want to.”

“He should be punished for his crimes,” Fidel says. “But…I considered him a friend, once. I can’t condemn him to whatever cruel things you have in mind.”

“Our Seekers can take him to Ghatha to be tried and imprisoned,” Azami says, surprising Tobias. The tsareena is looking out over the battlefield with weary eyes. “Once backup arrives from the other guilds, we’ll be sending more Pokemon there than just Will.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure that he gets to Ghatha’s highest-security prison,” Rosalind says, all sugarcoated poison. “Just give me a day or two so we can work out our personal grievances first.”

Tobias exchanges an uneasy look with Junie and Samir. World-ender or not, and no matter how much he hates Will, even Tobias isn’t sure he’s comfortable inflicting a furious, vengeful Rosalind on anyone, at least without supervision. He wants the yamask locked up for life so he never has to see him again, not necessarily tortured.

“Afraid I have to play by the books on this one,” Azami says, her tone light.

“Oh, but I insist!” Rosalind chirps, psychic energy coating her claws in a very obvious threat.

Val tenses up.

“Everyone in the guild thanks you for your help today, Rosalind. But we can handle the transport of the outlaws,” Azami reiterates. She meets Rosalind’s gaze calmly, looking almost amused by the hatterene’s attempt at intimidation. “I’m not letting such a serious threat out of the guild’s sight, for one. Especially considering that the higher-ups will want to see to the one personally responsible for this mess. But I’m also not signing off on pain for the sake of pain, no matter who it is. That’s just bad Seeker etiquette.”

Rosalind is frighteningly silent in response. Tobias sees Val’s fingers curl tighter around Azami’s side, as if even the stoic medicham is unsure about her partner’s bold play.

Tobias always assumed Azami laughed off his aggressive attitude and fire type attacks during training because she simply didn’t see him as a threat. And while that was probably true, especially when he was younger, he’s now wondering if this is just how Azami always is. If she always tackles danger with playful humor and a steadfast refusal to bow.

Rosalind eases out of her aggressive stance, flicking her claws to dissipate the energy there.

Tobias can finally breathe again.

“Fine,” Rosalind says, watching Azami with an interested gleam in her eye. “I’ll shelve this for now. Seems August may have a worthy successor after all.”

Azami blinks, some of her calm bravado vanishing to make way for surprise. “Oh, I’m not August’s second.”

That would be Verene—though last Tobias heard, the lurantis was in rough shape herself.

“I’m aware,” Rosalind says, turning to shuffle to the edge of the altar. “Give it some thought. I know capability when I see it.”

The hatterene looks expectantly at the far tree line, where a familiar shape is leaving the forest and scampering towards the altar as fast as it can. It’s a brown-and-cream color, fuzzy and low to the ground.

Rosalind makes a quiet, amused noise and flicks her hand. A moment later, Zag teleports to her in a flash of light. The zigzagoon runs forward a moment longer before skidding to a stop, panting.  He looks up at Rosalind with bright, eager eyes.

“Yes—huff—Lady—huff—Rosalind?”

Rosalind smiles down at the zigzagoon, and if Tobias didn’t know any better, he’d think she was genuinely happy to see him. “We’re heading out before the other Seekers arrive to ruin the atmosphere. Be a dear and scout ahead, would you?”

“Of course, Lady Rosalind!” Zag says, his tail wagging so fast it blurs. Rosalind snaps her fingers, and the zigzagoon warps away.

Then Rosalind looks over at Nia. Tobias holds the riolu closer, curling around her protectively.

“Tell your partner that I owe her my thanks, would you?”

And then, echoing silently in Tobias’ head, Rosalind adds, And consider Team Scarlet’s debt cleared.

Tobias stares at her, surprised. The hatterene smirks in return, turning away and wiggling her fingers over her shoulder as she leaves.

“Ta-ta, everyone. It was a pleasure working with you. Except you, dearest Will. May every god in this world strike you down, if I don’t get to you first.”

Tobias glances at Will, curled up small and motionless against Fidel’s chest. He has no idea if the yamask even heard her, but Will surely knows that Rosalind will have no mercy on him if she gets the chance to enact revenge. Prison would likely be a relief, in comparison.

They all watch as Rosalind makes her way down the altar and towards the trees herself. Slowly, the outlaws who came with her, donning their bloodied white scarves, shuffle after her, weaving through Seekers and statues alike. Rosalind must’ve sent out an announcement to them via telepathy.

“What about the outlaws who are too injured to walk?” Junie asks. “O-Or the ones who…”

“Doubt she cares,” Tobias mumbles. “The Seekers will take care of them either way.”

Tobias can tell that exhaustion is hitting him as the adrenaline finally wears off. The fatigue and injuries from the day crash over him like a wave, and suddenly it’s like he hardly has the strength to keep himself upright. His eyes grow heavier with each blink.

Samir nudges Tobias, giving him a concerned look.

“‘M fine,” Tobias grunts, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Just tired.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Azami says, her tone almost at its usual levity, if she didn’t also sound drained on every possible level. She looks over Team Scarlet with soft eyes now that Rosalind has gone. “We should get you all home to rest and have the medical ‘mon look you over. Arceus knows you’ve done more than enough today.”

“What about you?” Tobias asks with a frown.

“The upper-level Seekers will handle this,” Val answers, quiet. “More help is on the way. You focus on taking Nia to the guild.”

Tobias can’t tell if the medicham is that worried about Nia, or if she’s just trying to get them safely home and out of the way. Probably both.

Frankly, Tobias doesn’t have enough energy to argue. Tobias, Samir, and Junie aren’t leaving Nia’s side anyways, so they might as well go home and check in with Maggie before passing out.

Maggie.

A fresh knot of emotion tangles in Tobias’ chest as he thinks about his mom. He suddenly wants to see her so badly. He wants her here, to comfort him and hold him and keep him safe after such a terrifying, exhausting day.

But Tobias dreads the news he’ll have to deliver when he sees her. That August is gone, and that Maggie lost her best friend just as she’d feared.

Those emotions join the whirlpool of other anxieties circling his mind. He’s worried about Nia, and how Maggie will handle the news, and the fact that Yveltal could still wake up in a rage again, or that something could’ve happened to the guild during the worst of the break. Not to mention the sheer sorrow over all the deaths that happened today.

Tobias floats amid his thoughts like driftwood in a storm, only really keeping tabs on Nia in his arms, Samir at his side, and Junie on Nia’s shoulder. Making sure they stay close and safe.

Azami, Val and Soren start the cleanup and return effort, gathering healers to look for the most injured ‘mon on the battlefield with Bo’s help. After a few minutes, Clara and Seiji and some of the other humans cluster nearby, murmuring to one another. Fidel stays close too, holding Will too gently for a prisoner. Luckily, the yamask is either unconscious or may as well be, so Tobias doesn’t worry about him trying to escape.

Tobias barely notices when the first wave of reinforcements arrive, a neighboring guild’s second in command coming to the altar to talk with the others as his Seekers scatter amongst the battlefield to help. The orbeetle keeps glancing out at the two unconscious gods, as if he can’t believe his eyes.

Tobias nods off as they talk, right there in the bright morning sunlight.

He only jerks awake when someone—a clefable—gently shakes him and the others to teleport them home. Tobias manages to make it to his feet, but he nearly buckles under Nia’s deadweight, even with Samir helping to prop them both up.

It’s the humans who come to their aid. A flaaffy takes one of Nia’s arms over their shoulders and Seiji uses his psychic powers to lighten their load. Tobias thinks he mutters out a thank you, but he’s too exhausted to know for sure.

Everything is a blur as they’re teleported away in small groups by the clefable, first to a halfway point, and then by another set of psychics waiting there, until they’re suddenly back at the guild in a flash of light and a surge of dizziness.

Tobias hardly remembers their group making it up to the medical floor, past unfamiliar ‘mon and hurried voices. He’s only focused on putting one foot in front of the other as he heads to his old room.

He only comes back to himself when he sees Maggie.

The meganium is clearly worn ragged. Her antennae and flower petals are drooping, and there are heavy shadows under her golden eyes. Still, she sounds calm and collected as she directs ‘mon where to go and who to check on next. She turns, halfway through shouting another order before her eyes lock onto Tobias’ face.

Tobias smiles, shaky. “Hi, Mom. We’re back.”

For a moment, Maggie stares at them like ghosts, her gaze flicking from one face to the next over and over before settling on Nia’s limp form with a fearful expression.

Tobias tries to sound reassuring as he says, “Soren said she should be fine. It’s, uh, aura stuff.”

He really, really doesn’t want to think about Soren being wrong.

Some of the fear on Maggie’s face drains away, but a well of other emotions bubble up in its stead.

She sobs, then runs forward to meet them, uncaring that they’re in the middle of the hallway. Tobias doesn’t care either, tripping forward into her embrace and rubbing his face against the soft, cool petals around her neck. Tears spill from his eyes as he takes a shaking breath of her floral scent.

He was so scared, but he’s safe here. They all are.

Tobias doesn’t know how long they’re engulfed in Maggie’s trembling hug, her face rubbing over them and her vines cradling them close. Probably not long, considering Maggie is the one who reluctantly pushes them away to look at the unconscious riolu in her hold, brushing a vine first over Nia’s chest to feel her breathing before checking her pulse.

“Let’s get her lying down,” Maggie murmurs, her voice a wreck as she turns towards her quarters.

Tobias stumbles after her, the others a silent, steadying presence at his side as Junie flutters to rest on his shoulder.

Nia is placed gently in Maggie’s own nest, the meganium using her vines to fluff up the straw and make sure she’s comfortable.

Tobias doesn’t know why his stupid mouth says what it says next, without any preamble. Why he blurts, “Mom, August didn’t…he didn’t—"

He can’t finish the sentence as his throat closes up. Maggie freezes.

“I’m sorry,” Tobias rasps, swallowing against fresh tears.

Maggie turns back to him, a heart-wrenching grief in every line of her face as fresh tears roll down her cheeks. But she doesn’t seem surprised, like she knew this news was coming.

“I was right there,” Tobias continues, “but I couldn’t—I didn’t—"

Maggie steps forward, using her vines to sweep Tobias, Samir, and Junie into another tight hug. Tobias can feel the meganium’s chest hitching with quiet, withheld sobs.

It takes her a long, long moment before she manages to choke out, “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Tobias has no words to respond to that. He simply lets himself cry as he takes another shuddering breath of Maggie’s scent, and imagines for a moment that everything will be okay.

———————————————————————

The world’s aura pulses with fresh life. It’s weak, but growing stronger by the day now that its grievous injury has been healed. Now that it can finally recover on its own.

This aura isn’t sentient, not like the lives it cradles and supports. It is a living network, but one without conscious thought.

And yet, this aura recognizes something amongst the energy it has been given. Something unusual scattered throughout its veins. Ashes adrift on its waterways, not pure energy but pieces of a living, breathing soul that do not belong here in this unthinking current.

It is the soul of she who healed the world. She poured her very being into this web of aura—too much of herself, even. And now she has split, and has become a part of its network, unthinking and unaware.

The world’s aura does not understand obligation, or repayment. It does not think.

But it does feel.

It feels the way those glimmers of a soul gravitate towards one another in passing. It feels the way the soul drifts towards its vessel, trying in vain to return.

And so the world calls out to those who will listen.

———————————————————————

“I’m back,” Tobias says, stretching out his arms as he enters their room.

On Team Scarlet’s bed, Nia is still fast asleep, and Tobias’ heart twists with disappointment even if he should really be used to the sight by now.

Samir is loafed comfortably atop the blankets at Nia’s side, reading the book they’ve been steadily making their way through. The skiddo greets Tobias with a flick of the ear as he approaches, probably finding a good place to stop.

Tobias leans against the bed while they do, his head tilted sideways to read easier as he skims through the words himself. Looks like Samir is reading ahead; they’re at least a good 50 pages further than Tobias and Nia currently are.

Samir reaches the end of the page and looks at Tobias, tilting their head with a whistle of, Okay?

“Yeah, I’m fine. Beat up a training dummy for a while, talked to Maggie, got some food. I’ll take over here.”

Samir, as always, seems reluctant to leave. As if taking turns watching over Nia so they don’t get stir-crazy is a personal failing.

“Go! Get some air,” Tobias says, shooing them from the bed. “It’s not like you’ll be missing much here.”

Samir rolls their eyes, but dutifully rises from the bed and stretches. They hop to the floor with a quiet clunk of hooves against wood.

Training? Samir whistles.

“Sure,” Tobias says with a shrug. “Whatever you’re feeling. Heck, go to the flight floor and see if you can spot Junie learning how to do a barrel roll from the local flying types. I’m sure you’ll be able to hear her.”

Samir huffs a laugh, but finally heads to the door, whistling over their shoulder, Food?

“Nah, I’m good right now. We can get some when you come back.”

Samir whistle-clicks an affirmative before trotting out of the room and nudging the door shut behind them.

Tobias sighs once they’re gone, crawling up the bed to take Samir’s spot next to a tucked-in Nia. He grabs the book Samir left behind, flipping backwards in the story to where Tobias had left Nia’s silly furret bookmark the day before, about 3/4 of the way through the book. They’ve made a lot of progress, considering Tobias usually only gets through a chapter or two before succumbing to sleep himself.

He wishes they hadn’t made so much progress, but it’s been two weeks since they stopped Will and Yveltal at the gate, and Nia hasn’t woken up yet.

Tobias had practically dragged Soren to Nia’s bedside once everything settled down, desperate to know if she was all right, but even on a second look the lucario had simply sighed and restated what he’d said before: that Nia’s aura was sleeping, in a sense, and that she hopefully just needed more rest after so much strain was put on her body.

Tobias repeats Soren’s words to himself for the thousandth time, but his patience has long since worn thin and become a quiet, aching sort of fear. Because what if Nia never wakes up? What if she just sleeps in this coma-like state forever?

There’s a quiet knock at the door, interrupting his spiraling.

“Tobias?”

Visitors. Not an uncommon thing over the past two weeks, but not always something Tobias is in the mood to deal with. Even if he does get along with most of them now, and he really shouldn’t be left alone with his thoughts for too long.

“Yeah! Come in.”

The door eases open, revealing a luxray and gardevoir in the hallway and catching Tobias off-guard. It’s been a few days since they evolved, so he should really be used to the change by now.

“Hey,” Xander says, padding closer.

The luxray’s voice is an octave lower in his new form, but it’s his height that really annoys Tobias. He’s easily twice as big as a luxio now, and he practically towers over Team Scarlet.

Xander settles against the edge of the bed and rests his head on the blankets, glowing golden eyes watching Nia’s face. Avery drifts closer behind him, just as graceful as their father as they sit on the foot of the bed.

“Felix wanted to come, too,” Avery says quietly. “But his shell’s giving him some aches today.”

Tobias looks up sharply.

“He’s fine,” the gardevoir soothes, lifting a hand. “Fen thinks the evolution helped his injury, actually, but it’s just taking a while to heal fully.”

Tobias breathes again. He and Felix aren’t all that close, but sometimes in Tobias’ nightmares he still hears the crack of the water type’s shell between Sulien’s jaws. He usually isn’t fast enough to stop what comes next.

“Kry’s keeping him company. Or tormenting him, who knows.” Xander’s voice softens as he asks, “No changes here?”

“No,” Tobias sighs, looking down at his partner’s peaceful face. “No worse, but no better, either. I know they’re busy getting Yveltal sealed away and repairing the village, but I keep hoping Soren will come back down from Silenfroar to check on her aura. I want him to see if there are any changes since he last looked her over.”

“Mm. Didn’t Azami send a team up to the mountains the other day to help with construction? That should speed things up, at least.”

Tobias nods. “Yeah. Azami and Verene got it all worked out with some of the upper-level Seekers who were already on the mend last week.”

That still feels weird to say. The thought of August no longer leading the Lexym Guild drives a familiar stab of pain through Tobias’ chest.

But it fills Tobias with a strange sense of pride, too, seeing the tsareena who helped teach him how to fight step up as a—in her words—“Temporary guildmaster until a better replacement can be found.” Verene only recently got back on her feet enough to help with her usual duties, but from what Tobias has seen, they seem to make a good team. Verene almost seems more comfortable with the idea of Azami leading the guild and the lurantis remaining as the second in command, rather than the other way around.

Maybe it’s Rosalind’s words swaying him, but Tobias could see the two of them staying in their roles permanently. He’d never realized before how similar Azami was to the guildmaster before her. Playful, warm and welcoming, patient and helpful. She’d simply never been shoved into a role that required her to step up until Verene was out of commission and August needed an emergency second in command.

“I’m glad the guild is finally well enough to help everyone else get back on their feet,” Avery says.

Tobias nods. “Is everything still on the upswing outside?”

“It is!” Avery says, perking up. “Father and I have been keeping a close eye on the reports coming in. The mystery dungeons are taking longer to fade, but natural disasters in particular are petering off at an incredible rate.”

“They think some of that is thanks to the legendaries finally waking up,” Xander adds. He reaches out with a giant black paw to brush a piece of fuzz off Nia’s cheek, barely touching her fur in the process. “Their presence helps stabilize everything, apparently.”

“I know mesprit and victini were spotted the other day,” Tobias says. “Anyone new?”

“Yes!” Avery leans forward in their excitement. “Celebi was spotted in a forest yesterday. And rumor has it that—”

Tobias doesn’t mean to start tuning the gardevoir out, but sometimes when they get excited like this they remind him painfully of Nia, despite the now drastic size difference. Just something about the earnest excitement and the sparkling red eyes makes Tobias’ throat tighten.

He misses his partner.

Maybe Xander understands that, or maybe he just wants to get back to Felix as soon as he can, because he eventually interrupts Avery’s rambling with a loving bunt of his head into their side. Avery cuts themself off with a quiet apology and a soft smile, and it isn’t long until the two of them prepare to head out.

Before they go, Xander rubs his cheek against Nia’s, purring loud enough for Tobias to feel it through the pillows. Avery follows up with a gentle squeeze of Nia’s paw, their thumb skimming once over her blue fur.

It feels too quiet when they leave.

“You have a lot of ‘mon missing you, y’know,” Tobias murmurs, scooting closer. “So you’d better hurry back.”

Tobias opens the book again, finding their spot before he starts to read aloud.

—————————————————————

She isn’t sure where she is. Or what she is, for that matter.

She can’t really think in her current state, and as such can’t really have a coherent thought at all. But she can still feel sensation, even if that feeling is spread thin across an entire world’s worth of reach.

She feels…restless. Unmoored. Like something is pulling at every loose atom of her being.

Until, eventually, she starts to feel pieces of herself…gather. They coalesce and click together, guided by gentle, shepherding hands. Slowly, over what could be minutes or years, awareness returns to her.

She’s…not meant to be here. Not floating within this great tapestry. It cradles her and welcomes her, but something keeps her from melting into its power entirely.

She belongs somewhere else.

—————————————————————

Tobias, Samir, and Junie are sprawled out on their room’s plush rug and playing a game of what Junie calls “checkers” when they’re interrupted by an extra loud visitor. Or two.

Their room’s door flies open without any warning, startling Samir and making them smack their piece off the board entirely. Junie snickers at the skiddo’s huff of annoyance.

“Introduciiing!” Andyn announces as she marches in. The deerling moves to flank one side of the door.

“The amaziiing!” Ezra stumbles through the door next, still getting used to balancing with only one arm. He steps to the other side of the doorway, lifting his arm in a flourish. “The new and improved…”

Simultaneously, the two of them yell, “Jaz!”

There’s a long moment of silence as the stufful is nowhere to be seen.

Tobias rolls his eyes and goes back to the game, doing a double-take and sputtering when he realizes that something on the board was definitely moved while he was distracted by the dummy duo over there. And not in his favor.

Both Samir and Junie refuse to meet his eye, suddenly looking oh so innocent.

“You’re cheating!” Tobias hisses. “Both of you!”

“Whatever do you mean, Toby?” Junie asks, batting her eyelashes obnoxiously. Samir, infuriatingly enough, copies her. “I’m not even playing this round!”

Nia has to wake up soon so Junie leaves. These two must be separated before the rookidee corrupts Samir completely.

The hushed arguing at the doorway stops as Andyn loudly clears her throat, getting their attention again.

“Okay, now presenting…the new and improved Jaz!” the deerling cries with a sweep of her foreleg.

Another lingering silence, before there’s finally a scuff of movement in the hall, and then—

A giant bewear shuffles into view, almost too large to fit through the doorway. She looks incredibly embarrassed. Ezra and Andyn beam and present their partner like proud parents.

Tobias blinks. Okay, that is actually pretty cool.

“You evolved?!” Junie gasps, abandoning their game as the bewear ducks to enter the room.

“Yeah,” Jaz says, clearly feeling shy. She gives her two much smaller teammates a playful glare. “And I really wish these two would stop being so dramatic about it.”

Andyn looks personally offended. “You’re the first one on our team to evolve—and maybe the first stufful to evolve in like ten years! You really think we aren’t gonna hype that up? Uh-uh. No way.”

“Anne’s got a point on this one,” Ezra says with a shrug of his good shoulder. “C’mon, Jaz, you know this is super cool, right?”

The bewear sighs, and then sits on the floor. She still looms over everyone else in the room. “…Yeah. I know it’s cool. I just feel a little awkward being so much bigger than everyone now.”

“Hey, give me a bit of time and I’ll be right behind you,” Andyn says, butting her head into Jaz’s fluffy side. “And once Ez is strong enough to go to Silenfroar and get his new fighting techniques figured out with the Matriarch, we’ll get him evolved too!”

Jaz hums, but Tobias sees the way her shoulders relax.

“You’re so tall!” Junie says excitedly, hopping around atop Jaz’s head. “And your fur is so soft!”

“Congrats,” Tobias adds, trying to make sure at least one of them responds like a normal ‘mon. Samir nods at his side.

As Jaz murmurs a shy thank you, Ezra looks curiously at Tobias and Samir. “Speaking of, aren’t you two ready to evolve? You’ve gotta be strong enough by now.”

Tobias shrugs. He looks back at their game of wobbly, hand-drawn boxes and different colored rocks and tries to remember what the board looked like before Junie’s interference. He knows she moved something.

“Samir’s just about there, we think. And I could evolve any time, but I’m waiting for Nia to wake up.”

A heavy quiet falls over the room as Tobias reaches up to fiddle with the everstone necklace under his scarf.

He sees Andyn wilt out of the corner of his eye. “Oh. I was kind of hoping she’d wake up at such an exciting announcement. Like, maybe she’d sense that Jaz’s aura changed.”

“Is she still doing the same?” Ezra asks.

“As far as we can tell,” Tobias says, giving up on figuring it out and just taking his next turn. “She’s not any worse physically, at least.”

“That’s good!”

Team Evergreen stays for a while after that, the conversation quickly picking back up again.

But Tobias doesn’t stop fiddling with the dimpled gray stone resting over his heart. As soon as word spread about the first evolution, only a week after the break was closed, Tobias told Samir about his decision to not evolve until Nia woke up. He just didn’t want to do it without Nia here to see it. What if she woke up and didn’t even recognize him?

No, Tobias will wait for her to come back. No matter how long that takes.

———————————————————————

As soon as she has the awareness to recognize that she isn’t where she wants to be, she can’t help wanting to leave.

The flowing network of the world is peaceful, an embrace that tugs her along with all the gentleness of a parent with their child. She drifts instinctively along its current, skimming the boundaries of the world and the structures within it. Dancing along the veins of a leaf and riding the waves of the sea, brushing by the aura of the creatures it holds.

Some part of her loves it. Loves its freedom and its beauty.

The rest of her only continues to pull away. Continues trying to gather herself and her thoughts, though they spiral from her grip each and every time until she sinks once more into pure sensation.

———————————————————————

A heavy thunk from the mail slot in the wall gets everyone’s attention.

Samir, curled up in the weak winter sunlight under the window, looks up from their whistle-speech book. Junie tilts her head from her place on the windowsill above them. Tobias, who had been picking at his guitar next to Nia, sets his instrument aside to slide off the bed and cross the room so he can check it out.

“What is it?” Junie asks.

“Probably more fan mail,” Tobias jokes, pulling a bundle of letters from their mailbox.

Junie leaves the windowsill to perch on Tobias’ shoulder. “Who from?”

“Looks like the usual.” One letter from Hazel and Beck, one from Granite and Takeo... “Oh, here, this one’s from Bo.”

“Yes!” Junie grabs the offered letter and drags it over to Samir on the floor. The skiddo watches with amusement as she rips into the paper viciously with her little beak and talons.

Three weeks after sealing the dimensional break, the influx of visitors who come to the guild to visit Nia has finally slowed. Everyone is eventually drawn back to their own busy lives as the world settles into something peaceful.

But in their stead, there have been letters. Mostly casual conversation and check-ins, along with rumors and updates from around the world.

Once Tobias settles on the floor with his back against the bed, positioned between Nia’s sleeping form and Junie and Samir across the room, he reads through the first letter in his hands.

“Hazel and Beck’s grandsons evolved into their pikachu forms,” Tobias relays, snorting when he reads the next line. “Apparently Hazel’s pretty worried about how much more trouble they can cause now.”

“Ah, boys after my own heart,” Junie sighs.

Beck is also feeling very similarly about a recently-evolved Delia, who is enjoying her newfound feraligatr stature more than he’d like. Tobias grins at the mental image of the brash ship captain having to learn to control her newfound strength.

“It looks like the currents around Afon and the Lilycap River are finally back to normal, too,” Tobias adds. He looks at Junie. “How’s Bo?”

“Good,” Junie says, smiling as she reads through her own letter a second time. “The wind’s finally calmed down enough that he thinks I can join him on his mail route! After, um. After Nia wakes up.”

There’s a pause as everyone glances up at Nia, still sleeping peacefully in bed. A familiar, heavy emotion—not quite grief, or fear, or longing, but something with a bit of each—fills Tobias’ chest.

“Cool.” Tobias clears his throat and flips to the next letter, quickly skimming it for more news. “Takeo says the quakes have finally stopped for good in Fort Asra, and the roads are picking up again since Pokemon feel safe enough to travel, even with the mystery dungeons lingering.”

No one comments, even if Tobias knows they’re listening, so he just continues to read through and pick out interesting tidbits from each.

“Rora’s finally back on her paws. Her mom told her the two of them could come down to the guild to visit in a few weeks, as long as her burns cooperate.” Tobias’ smile fades as he reads the next words. “They want to join us for the winter festival.”

Another silence falls, despite the good news. Tobias hates it. He hates that every happy update, every bit of future planning, has this weight to it, like they’re all carefully stepping around the fact that Nia might not be awake for the winter festival. She might not ever—

No. She will.

Tobias swallows hard and keeps reading through letters, his throat closing up a bit more with each one. Over and over again, they end with well-wishes for Tobias and the rest of the team and especially for Nia, hoping she wakes up soon.

There’s a letter from Fliss, whose wing has finally healed up enough for her to resume her flight ‘mon duties. Another from Fidel and Asher, who are currently traveling together after escorting Will to Ghatha’s prison. A letter from Clara and Seiji and the humans who have returned to Will’s settlement to try a second go without the yamask’s influence.

So many Pokemon out there, wishing Nia a fast recovery. That has to mean something, right?

Tobias takes a deep breath and stands, gathering the letters as he goes over to their desk. He lines them up in a stack against the wall to respond to later. Afterwards, he’ll tuck them away in the drawer next to the others, for Nia to read when she wakes up.

She will wake up. She has to.

Maggie and Fen make frequent visits to their quarters, checking on Nia’s health and making sure to shift her so she doesn’t get bedsores, and according to them she’s in perfect physical health. The riolu is entirely healed up from their fight with Sulien and her time in Will’s prison.

But that isn’t the issue. The issue is her aura.

Soren finally visited Nia again the other day, alongside Azami and Val. Tobias can’t logically blame the lucario for being so absent, considering the destruction left up in Silenfroar, but he also can’t help feeling a bit desperate every time Soren does visit, asking a bit too urgently for him to check on Nia’s aura again.

Every time, the result is the same. A look of frustrated confusion on Soren’s face, and a reluctant explanation that her aura is stable, but still…dormant. Like what makes Nia who she is is still…sleeping, for lack of a better word.

And they have no idea how to wake her up.

Soren tries communicating with Nia’s aura, tries prodding her into awareness, but each time, the lucario only looks more lost. It’s clear that he’s never seen something like this, and neither he nor his pack know how to fix it.

So they wait, and they hope. That’s about all they can do.

———————————————————————

“There you are!” a voice says, drawing her from the gentle current of the world’s aura. She finally feels anchored enough to half-understand the words being spoken to her.

“This should do it,” another voice says, pleased. “We may not be able to send her home, but we can at least give her a second chance in our own realm. Mew, would you do the honors?”

“Happily,” the first voice says, its chipper tone softening.

She feels something inside of her pulling, pushing, connecting, and then—

She is herself again. Nia.

Well, most of herself, at least.

Enough of herself to “see” the world again. Enough to start a coherent thought, even if she still isn’t back inside her body.

In front of her, a delicate pink cat Pokemon floats, her tail flicking excitedly. “There you are. You’ve been pretty hard to track down, you know. We had to get help from Arceus themself to find those last few fragments of your soul.”

Nia can’t answer. She can barely keep up with the conversation being lobbed at her after who knows how long drifting on pure sensation.

“You’re crowding her,” a familiar voice rumbles.

Giratina?

Sure enough, the ghost type is floating nearby, his serpentine form relaxed for once. He’s flanked by two smaller Pokemon, who look like sleek matching birds, one white and red and the other white and blue.

“He’s right,” the red bird says as she drifts closer. She has a kind face. “Give her a moment to get her bearings before we send her back.”

Mew gives Nia some space, but then circles her soul as if to view her from all angles.

“You know,” Mew says thoughtfully, “I remember making this soul’s body. I remember how excited I was that it was something different. I hoped so desperately that any change might help our world survive.”

“Yes,” Giratina says dryly, “and I remember you recklessly using the last of your energy to give lost souls physical form.”

“And apparently I was right to do so!” Mew laughs. She looks fondly at Nia. “It seemed strange to me, though, once you told me about her. Strange that such a gentle soul would manifest as a riolu.”

“It should’ve been the form that fit her best, right?” the red bird asks.

“Yes. But at the time, all I’d been told was how gentle she was. How caring.” Mew floats closer, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “It makes more sense when I remember how fierce love can be.”

Nia feels herself sink, something pulling her downwards. Her awareness and her thoughts drift again, even as something inside of her finally shivers and settles. And then—

Nia comes back to herself slowly, brushing by the surface of wakefulness before retreating. She does so a second time, and then a third, until she finally breaches the surface.

There’s warm light against her closed eyes. Nia scrunches up her face, squinting. Where is she? It’s so bright.

Bright, but quiet and warm and soft, too. Peaceful.

Slowly, her eyes focus enough to see that she’s…in their room at the guild. There’s a cool winter breeze in the air, but the sunlight pouring in from the window and the soft blankets tucked around Nia keep her cozy and warm. She’s in their bed.

Her eyes wander, finding a familiar blur of orange at her side. Something in her heart melts when she sees Tobias there, curled atop the covers and fast asleep. He’s holding her hand.

She gives his palm a gentle squeeze, surprised for a moment by how weak her fingers feel. Stiff, almost. Like she hasn’t properly used them in a while.

How long has she been out? Last she remembered, they were at the dimensional gate, and she used her aura to…

It comes rushing back to her in a flood of memory. Not only the battle and using the world’s aura to fix the break, but faint glimpses of something else, too, that feel too real to be a dream. A sense of drifting, and then—Mew. Mew, and Giratina, and those two other Pokemon.

Where had she been?

Tentatively, Nia reaches for her aura, wincing when the action causes a twinge of pain. She supposes taking in so much energy to filter through her own body like that would leave a nasty scrape behind.

Otherwise, Nia’s aura seems fine. The familiar turquoise hue responds immediately to her call, stable and strong. Her aura is quickly drawn to Tobias’ own, brushing against it like a caress. His energy reaches out to hers, even in rest.

“Nia…” Tobias mumbles, his brow pinching.

Nia smiles. She gives his hand another squeeze, twining around his aura with her own like a happy cat weaving through its owner’s legs.

She doesn’t mean to wake him, but Tobias’ eyes flutter open a moment later, focusing blearily on her face with something like confusion.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Nia whispers, her voice rough with disuse. “So we saved the world, huh?”

Tobias’ eyes fly open as he pushes himself up, staring at Nia in disbelief.

Nia stares back, not expecting that reaction. Nor for the way his face slowly falls, his lip trembling as his eyes water.

“Tobias?” Nia tries to push herself up on trembling arms. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re awake,” he whispers.

Nia finally manages to sit up, even if it leaves her winded. “Yeah, I-I’m awake. How long was I out?”

Tobias’ expression crumbles entirely, and he dives into her arms, nearly knocking both of them over again. Nia makes a startled sound, but hugs him back immediately, concerned by how hard he’s shaking.

“H-Hey, it’s okay,” she tries, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

“We weren’t sure you’d wake up,” Tobias says, his voice strangled. “You were asleep for weeks, a-and I…I missed you so much.”

Something tender strikes Nia right in the heart, and she feels her own eyes water in return. Weeks? Oh, no wonder he’s so upset. She’d be a wreck too if their roles were reversed.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “But I’m back now, okay?”

Tobias’ chest jumps against her own with quiet sobs, but he doesn’t answer. Gently, painstakingly, Nia pries him far enough away so that he can see her face.

“I’m right here,” Nia says with a smile, “and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Tobias gives a wet laugh and nods. Then he opens his eyes again, even as tears roll down his cheeks. His gaze flicks over her features again and again, like he doesn’t want to stop looking at her for a second.

Nia is familiar with the surge of affection in her chest. She’s familiar with the love she holds for the sweet boy in front of her, but she’s not familiar with what happens next.

She notices the light first, reflecting off Tobias’ face and gleaming in his eyes. He takes a sharp breath, leaning back, and Nia jerks away too, alarmed as she looks down at herself. Her body is shining a bright white, almost too blinding to see.

“T-Tobias?!”

“You’re okay!” Tobias soothes, holding onto her tighter. “Y-You’re all right, I’ve got you.”

Nia latches onto that reassurance as her body does something strange. A warmth pours through her arms and legs like a fever, racing under her skin, and then she seems to…grow. As if taking a deep breath and never stopping. As if stretching her limbs and never reaching her limit. It feels like unfolding after being stuck somewhere cramped for hours on end. Not painful, but unlike anything she’s ever experienced.

And then, it stops.

The light fades, and Nia can see again. She’s surprised that she suddenly has to look down to see Tobias’ face in front of her, the charmander staring up at her with something like awe.

“You evolved,” Tobias breathes.

“W-What?!”

Nia blinks, shock rolling over her as she looks down at her body. The black fur of her chest has lightened to a cream color, and a dull spike now sits along her sternum. Her paws are now black, almost patterned like gloves, with a matching spike on the back of each wrist. But more noticeably, it feels like everything around her has suddenly shrunk. Tobias is the size of a stuffed animal, and Nia’s limbs almost feel too big for her body, like she just had the world’s weirdest growth spurt, all at once.

“We can evolve now?!” Nia asks. “That means I’m…a lucario?”

“You are,” Tobias says, still looking up at her like she’s something amazing.

It makes Nia blush. She has to hide her face in her hands. “Don’t look at me like that!”

She can hear the laugh in Tobias’ voice when he asks, “Like what?”

“I dunno, like…" Nia pulls her hands away from her burning face and forces herself to look at him. “Like I put the stars in the sky or something.”

Tobias’ gaze softens. “I mean, you did save the world.”

“Not alone. I had a pretty good team on my side.”

Tobias takes Nia’s hand again, and she’s immediately distracted from the sweet gesture by the strange size difference. Oh wow, his fingers are so small now!

Tobias glares at her delighted expression. “Don’t—”

“Oh my God, you’re tiny!”

Tobias barks a laugh, leaning back. “Fine, I was gonna let you have your moment, but not after that.”

Tobias uses his free hand to reach under his scarf, unhooking something and letting it fall. A necklace? He gently tosses it aside.

Immediately, a familiar blinding light fills the room.

Nia squints, trying in vain to watch as Tobias shines like the sun. She feels his hand grow, his fingers and claws lengthening as his silhouette shifts, until—

It fades, and there he is. He’s bigger and taller, his skin is a deeper red, and there’s a spine atop the back of his head. Two fangs peek out from his upper lip.

But he has the same bright blue eyes.

“Whoa. Okay, weird,” Tobias murmurs, looking down at his hands in wonder. His voice is a notch deeper, too.

Nia pushes down another wave of emotion, grinning at Tobias through teary eyes. “You’re still shorter than me.”

Tobias gives her a playful look. “Oh, you’re gonna regret starting this game.”

And then, he glows again, and Nia’s eyes widen.

Right, charmander have two evolutions, don’t they? And Tobias has apparently trained enough for both.

The change is more drastic this time. Tobias nearly doubles in size, wings unfolding from his back as the silhouette of his head and neck lengthens and streamlines. Nia keeps holding his hand, breathless as she watches the process unfold.

When the light finally fades, Tobias towers above her. His body is definitely bigger, but it’s the large wings draped over the sides of the bed and his slender neck and head that stand out to Nia the most. His new form is a graceful shape that’s clearly built for the sky.

Familiar blue eyes blink down at her, and then look curiously at his arms and body. His heavy tail swings around behind him, the flame at its end larger than ever, and the weight of the movement makes the wood beneath them creak.

They’re gonna need a much bigger bed, since Nia’s partner is apparently an honest to God dragon now.

Nia bursts into laughter.

Tobias looks down at her with offense, a flush reddening his cheeks. The familiar expression is painfully endearing.

“W-What?!” Oh, his voice is definitely deeper now. Fascinating.

“Nothing! Nothing, you look wonderful, I promise. I just—maybe we should get off the bed before we break poor Hazel’s handiwork.”

Tobias’ embarrassment fades as he snorts. He shuffles to the floor and nearly overbalances due to the different weight distribution and foreign proportions. His wings flail, and one nearly decks Nia in the face.

“Careful!” Nia laughs, dodging. “Maybe evolving twice in a row to prove a point wasn’t the best idea.”

“Oh, shut it,” Tobias mumbles. “If you weren’t on bed rest, I’d like to see you try walking around in a brand-new body.”

Nia takes him up on the unintended challenge, despite his protests. She waves him away as she swings her long legs over the side of the bed, surprised when her feet easily touch the floor.

Then, she pushes herself up, and immediately topples back into the bed with a yelp.

Tobias grins, watching her with dancing eyes. “Graceful as ever.”

“Oh, hush,” she laughs. “At least you decided to evolve. I didn’t even mean to do this!”

Tobias averts his eyes, clearing his throat. “What, uh, what were you thinking about? When you evolved.”

Nia blinks at him, and then blushes again when she remembers how riolu evolve in the first place: an affection bond.

“You,” Nia says, quiet and honest. “I was thinking about you.”

Tobias looks surprised by her bluntness, his face flooding red.

Nia gives him a soft smile as she sits up. “I love you a lot, Tobias. You know that, right?”

Tobias looks away, but he smiles shyly as he settles on the floor. His long neck dips so he can nudge Nia’s forehead with his own. “…Yeah. I love you too.”

Nia beams, before her eyes catch on the lower part of Tobias’ neck. Long divots cut through the skin there, stretched and faded but unmistakably scars.

Oh.

“Your scarf,” Nia says, looking over to find the familiar slip of red in the blankets. His scarf must’ve fallen off when he evolved, too small to fit his larger form.

Tobias’ hand goes to his neck, clearly panicked, before he visibly swallows and takes a breath. Slowly, he lets his hand fall again, revealing the marks once more.

“It’s…it’s all right. You can look.”

Nia’s breath catches. She slowly looks back at the scars. There are only a few and they’re shallow, but they curve around the sides of his neck in long, thin slices. They’ve stretched with his evolution, following his skin as it grew.

Nia reaches up to touch, then hesitates. “Are these from..?”

“Sulien,” Tobias confirms. “I didn’t like the other kids staring at them when I was younger.”

Nia carefully traces the scars with her fingertips, keeping an eye on Tobias for any discomfort. While he seems a bit nervous, nothing seems to hurt or tickle.

“Can you feel this?”

“No. They’re usually numb unless the weather’s bad, like up in Silenfroar,” Tobias murmurs. Nia can feel the vibration of his voice. “Not sure if that’ll be better or worse after evolution.”

Nia doesn’t respond, eyeing the scars and mentally adding his usual scarf to the look. “I don’t know if a regular scarf will cover them anymore.”

Tobias’ breath stops for a moment, then starts again. “That’s okay. That’s…I can handle that.”

Nia looks at him for a moment. Then she straightens up and lifts her face like a flower finding the sun. She’s pleased when Tobias understands what she’s asking for and lowers his head to press their foreheads together.

“Why did you wait to evolve anyways?” Nia asks.

“I didn’t want you to wake up and not recognize me,” Tobias mumbles.

Nia smiles, intertwining their hands as her aura does the same to his own. “You are incredibly sweet.”

Tobias grumbles a wordless answer in response, clearly flustered, and Nia laughs.

Then, she realizes the room is awful quiet.

Nia pulls back, looking around. “Where are Junie and Samir?”

“We’ve been taking shifts,” Tobias explains. “They’re both somewhere around the guild. I can go find them if you want.”

Nia shakes her head, closing her eyes. She probably shouldn’t push herself right now, when her aura still feels a bit…sore, for lack of a better word.

But…

Nia reaches out, finding those same aura pathways that she’s so intimately familiar with now, and letting her soul seek out those she loves.

She brushes against their souls, one by one, giving them an affectionate tap, a playful beckoning nudge, a whisper to come find her. She doesn’t linger for the rush of surprise hope joy that follows, instead landing back inside her body with a grounding breath.

“Pushing yourself already?” Tobias asks dryly.

Nia shrugs. “I want to see everyone.”

And see everyone she does.

Junie and Samir are the first to come barging in, both of them stopping in their tracks with slack jaws when they see that not only is Nia awake, but that both she and Tobias have evolved in their absence, suddenly three times their previous sizes.

“You’re a freakin’ dragon?!” Junie screeches. But then she seems to register that Nia is actually awake, and her eyes glitter with tears. “O-Okay, take a raincheck on that.”

Junie rockets into Nia’s arms. Nia laughs as she catches the bird, who is now so tiny in her hands. She cups the trembling ball of feathers against her heart.

Samir trots forward a bit slower, but Nia can see the way their eyes shine with tears, too. She opens her arm in invitation, and the skiddo barely hesitates before leaping onto the bed and joining the hug. Nia only has to give Tobias a look before he rolls his eyes and leans over to join too, a giant wing blanketing them all in warmth.

Shortly after, Team Shellshock arrives. Then Team Evergreen. Then Maggie and Fen, and even Val and Azami.

As more and more Pokemon barge into the room with cries of Nia’s name and increasingly humorous surprise over their evolved forms, Nia finds herself smiling so hard it hurts. The room is packed with voices, their collective aura bright with joy and affection.

Nia knows this feeling won’t be permanent. She knows there will be hard days ahead, days where she’ll feel the full loss of her human family again. Days where she’ll mourn her human life and everything she left behind.

Nia watches in horror as Yveltal awakens on the distant altar. The cocoon cracks like an eggshell, red light bleeding through like a dying sun.

A few of the ‘mon around August’s body stumble to their feet, looking as terrified as Nia feels. Xander’s fur bristles and sparks, and Kry curses under her breath, stepping defensively in front of the rest of her team. Samir’s legs shake like a newborn foal’s.

“He’s awake,” Bo says, his voice grave.

This is their worst nightmare. If Yveltal breaks through the barrier, then they’re done. They don’t have a backup plan. Their only shot is if…

“We have to stop him before he can attack,” Nia says, wiping her eyes and pushing herself to her feet. She nearly falls over before Tobias steadies her, standing up as well.

Junie’s voice breaks as she asks, “H-How? He’s a literal god.”

“I don’t know, but it’s the only option we have left.” Nia takes a deep breath, refusing to look back at August’s face. If she does, she fears the sight will cut through her determination like the strings of a puppet. “First, we’ve gotta get up there.”

Easier said than done. Even if the army of Pokemon between them have stopped fighting, Nia doesn’t think her legs can carry her that far after the fight with Sulien—and definitely not quickly.

“I’ll get you there,” Bo says. His sharp beak is pointed towards Yveltal’s cocoon, which is starting to unfurl like a blooming flower. “With the fighting stalled, the skies should be clear enough.”

Nia doesn’t question the skarmory, finally tearing her eyes away from Yveltal. Bo crouches to let them on, and she pulls herself atop the bird’s back with clumsy movements. Tobias and Samir follow wordlessly, falling into place behind and in front of her. Nia threads her fingers through the skiddo’s fur to help ground them both.

“Ready,” Nia says, even if she feels anything but.

“Be careful,” Xander calls, unusually quiet. The luxio looks like he wants to come along to help, but he resists as he glances back at August and his more injured teammates.

Nia nods, her throat too tight to speak.

Bo pushes off the ground with a few sharp flaps to climb into early-morning sky, the stretch of war-torn ground and battle-weary Pokemon growing smaller beneath them. Junie flaps frantically at the skarmory’s side to keep up.

As Bo flies towards the altar, Yveltal lifts his head, revealing a pointed skull of black and red that almost looks more snake than bird. A smoke-like mane billows up from his neck, and Nia realizes that the cocoon isn’t a shell but Yveltal himself, wrapped within his own wings. The red light that had been pouring from the cocoon retracts, settling under the bird’s feathers as a dangerous, pulsing glow.

Bo cuts through the air over the crowd of Pokemon, dodging flyers who are hovering in place as they watch. Nia isn’t even afraid of how fast they’re flying, too terrified of the actual threat.

Yveltal’s wings unfurl, black vein-like markings and clawtips spreading wide as the legendary gives a great flap of his wings. He rises into the air unnaturally, eerily, almost floating rather than flying. A long tail uncurls like a clawed hand to sweep across the altar. He’s huge, his form swallowing up the sky and the gate at his back, like an eclipse personified.

The fact that Yveltal doesn’t immediately attack makes hope rise in Nia’s chest, and her fingers tighten their grip in Samir’s fur. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe Yveltal wasn’t sent into a rage from being woken early. Maybe he can be reasoned with.

Yveltal throws his head back in an ear-piercing screech that feels like it shakes the foundations of the world itself. All of them flinch, Nia’s ears flattening against her skull. The red glow of Yveltal’s body intensifies, burning brighter in his chest and building like a supernova.

There’s a terrifying moment of stillness. Nia’s heart drops.

Yveltal’s wings whip forward, and a beam of light shoots out like a nuclear weapon, a line of pure energy that tears across the swamp and into the crowd of Pokemon without discrimination, leaving explosions and smoke in its wake. Pokemon in the crowd scream, scattering in terror.

“Junie!” Bo calls. “On my back!”

Junie doesn’t argue, diving to wedge herself securely between Nia and Samir.

Bo makes a wide berth around Yveltal’s attack and continues towards the altar at an angle. Tobias’ arms tighten around Nia’s waist.

Nia’s eyes scan the clearing smoking where the crowd of Pokemon had stood, unable to ignore the destruction. She’s surprised when she spots figures standing upright in the haze, until it clears enough for her to realize what she’s actually seeing.

Statues. Gray statues of Pokemon, trying to flee but frozen in place. The attack didn’t obliterate them as Nia had feared, but instead left them petrified into stone.

The light under Yveltal’s skin pulses brighter, his movements growing more erratic. He must be able to absorb his targets’ life energy with that attack. And luckily for Yveltal, there’s a literal army of Pokemon here to take from, native and human-born ‘mon alike.

Yveltal cries out and shoots off another attack, this one arcing wide into the air in their direction. Bo curses and tucks his wings into a dive, just barely ducking under the beam of energy. Nia’s stomach turns, and she leans further into Junie and Samir until Bo’s wings snap open again, regaining control.

Nia peeks open an eye, glancing down at the destruction Yveltal carved into the landscape before looking forward again. The legendary is flapping in place, turning to face the circular gate where the barrier is weakest, thin and fraying like a cloth that’s barely holding itself together.

No. No!

Nia screams as Yveltal unleashes another attack. The beam cuts across the gate, but the energy vanishes before it comes out the other side, like a magic trick.

Then, a crack.

It’s something Nia feels in her very soul. Like ice splitting beneath her feet. Like a car folding in on itself. Like something breaking irreparably. It’s like nothing Nia has ever felt before. It reverberates through the air in a thrum that she can feel in her chest.

Light splits the air inside the gate, like a slitted eye. Nia stares at it, sensing those last few threads of the barrier straining to hold together as they snap, one by one, until the aura gives entirely. The crack splits open like a wound.

Bo lands clumsily on the altar amongst a thin crowd. Most of the ‘mon who were up here before have already fled in terror, leaving only a few dozen Pokemon behind who stare up at the rift with wide, frightened eyes. Among them, Nia spots Clara, the torracat innkeeper from the human settlement, huddling against a column with Seiji, the human researcher turned bronzor.

Beyond them, Will stands before the gate with a grin splitting his face, his eyes shining as he stares into the end of the world. He holds his mask with a tight grip.

A sound comes from within the rift—a bellowing, hissing cry—before Giratina himself breaks through, his serpentine body streaming from the gate with the power of a rushing train. He slams into Yveltal, his body wrapping around the bird like a boa constrictor.

Yveltal screeches and struggles to stay in the air, the two legendaries losing altitude fast and crashing into the stone and water below as more Pokemon scatter with panicked cries.

Giratina uses his wings and ghostly claws to try pinning Yveltal to the ground. Yveltal counters with a pulse of dark energy that sends Giratina flying. He slams into the side of the stone gate, rocks falling and crashing to the ground nearby and making the altar underfoot shake. Giratina hisses and launches himself back on the offensive. Weakened as he is, Nia doesn’t know if he’ll win this fight.

Of course, it won’t matter either way if the world unravels around them first.

“Now is not the time to cower! We must go!”

Nia’s head whips around at Will’s voice. The yamask is yelling at the same sigilyph and xatu from before, pointing at the gate. The two psychic types look hesitant, backing away from the overwhelming power of the break with naked fear on their faces.

“Will,” Nia growls, running for the yamask.

Nia tackles the ghost, stupidly shocked when she slips right through him to tumble to the stone, head-over-heels. A moment later, Will’s cold hand wraps around her throat and slams her to the stone underfoot. The yamask’s eyes glow blue with psychic energy, and Nia sees more of the energy condense and hover overhead, pointed down at her with lethal intent.

“Nia!” Tobias yells.

Will pulls his hand back. Before he can act, something tackles him away with a snarl, and the psyshock goes wide, piercing the stone next to Nia’s head instead of shooting through her skull. She sits up with a gasp, coughing with a hand against her throat.

In front of her, Fidel has Will pinned down with claws coated in dark type energy. The zoroark’s lips are pulled back, sharp canines inches from the yamask’s face. Will stares up at his old friend, dumbfounded.

“Fidel?” Will breathes. His expression twists with rage as he struggles, unable to go incorporeal against the dark type’s hold. “Let me go! This is your last chance to save your son, Fidel! Why are you wasting it?!”

Fidel doesn’t answer, even as grief peeks through the rage on his face. He doesn’t loosen his hold on the yamask.

Will turns his head to look at Nia again, tears gathering in his eyes. “Nia! We are so close to home, Nia! Please, just—just let me go home.”

Nia’s heart squeezes with empathy, even now. Even as she shakes her head no.

Tears slip sideways down Will’s face. He opens his mouth to yell something else, but Fidel uses a paw to slam the yamask’s head into the ground, making his body go limp. Fidel stares down at his old friend with pained eyes, then back up at Nia, making sure she’s unharmed.

As Tobias, Samir, and Junie rush towards Nia, a paw lands on her shoulder. She looks up, surprised to find a battered and bleeding Soren at her side. The lucario must’ve arrived at the altar with Fidel.

“The barrier has broken,” Soren says, his voice dull as he helps her to her feet. “It’s unraveling.”

Nia can feel it. The threads of aura that make up the complex tapestry of the world have been cut through by Yveltal’s attack, like a blade slicing through soft skin. The tear continues to widen as they watch, the weakened barrier stretched too thin to keep itself together. Nia doesn’t know how long it will take for the break to grow too large, for the entire world to collapse in on itself like a tent ripped in half, but she imagines that mystery dungeons and natural disasters must be popping up left and right as everything destabilizes.

This can’t be it. Surely, after everything they did to save this world, it can’t just…end. Not like this. Not when they were so close to stopping it.

“W-We have to stop this,” Nia says, grabbing Soren’s arm. “There has to be a way to stop it!”

Soren stares at the gate, defeat etched into every line of his body. “There isn’t.”

“You said Xerneas would be able to do it, right? Patch up the break? That sh-she would just need to direct enough life energy to stem the bleed of aura and close it up so the barrier could start healing on its own.”

“If she had amassed the energy for it and was willing to do so, yes. But Yveltal holds that well of power at the moment. And Xerneas isn’t here.”

As Tobias takes Nia’s hand, she looks out at the battlefield behind them, where Giratina and Yveltal continue to fight. Rosalind has joined in the legendaries’ battle with a group of Seekers and outlaws, the haterene miraculously untouched as she dances around the two titans and sends wave after wave of fairy type energy at Yveltal.

Nia wracks her brain as she looks back at the break: a stunning abyss of rainbow-tinted light cutting through the sky. It would be beautiful, if it didn’t spell out the end of the world. It tugs at Nia like the tide, a paradox of push and pull that sucks at her fur and pushes her away all at once. The ground underfoot shakes. There’s an endless roar filling her ears.

Nia can feel death looming over them, like the blade of a guillotine ready to drop.

No. They can’t just…give up.

“What about the lucario?” Nia asks Soren, desperate. “We can use life energy, too! Can’t we patch the break ourselves?”

Soren shakes his head. “We do not have nearly enough aura for such a feat. And we cannot simply grab and mend the threads of the world. If we could, we would’ve fixed the mystery dungeons ourselves. We can only navigate the world’s pathways, not affect the structure of the barrier itself.”

“Wait,” Tobias says, surprising Nia. His fingers tighten around her own. “You’re saying it should be impossible to stabilize a dungeon with aura? Like, at all?”

“Yes.”

Tobias looks at Samir, whose eyes widen as they seem to realize something. “You saw it too, right? After Nia fought that perrserker in the mystery dungeon and discharged her aura.”

Samir nods, almost frantic.

“W-What?” Nia asks.

“You stabilized it,” Tobias says, locking eyes with Nia. “It was just for a second, but I swear that when you pushed your aura into the environment—into the mystery dungeon—it healed.”

Something seems to spark to life in Soren’s eyes. He looks at Nia. “Is this true?”

“I-I don’t know,” Nia stammers. All she can remember from that fight is the emotion of the moment. She wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings. “Is that even possible?”

“It wouldn’t be, for a natural-born riolu. But it may be possible for someone who has touched the barrier before. Someone whose soul is not entirely of this world.”

Someone human. Someone like Nia.

Nia stares at Soren as the realization settles on her shoulders, heavy enough to crush her into dust. She feels the others’ eyes burning into her.

Their one last-ditch hope for saving the world…is her?

Tobias turns Nia away from the others, using one hand to squeeze her own and the other to reach up and pat her cheek until she focuses on him. Concern carves a little furrow in his brow.

“Hey, breathe,” he says, quiet voice almost lost to the maelstrom of the break. “We’re right here with you.”

Nia blinks back tears and tries to calm her breathing before she panics for real. Right. Right. She’s suddenly their only hope, but that doesn’t mean she’s doing this alone. She still has her team behind her.

Nia looks back at the break. It’s nearly reached the edges of the stone gate, its power whipping at their scarves. She feels like she’s staring into the sun.

Nia gives Tobias’ hand one last squeeze, and then moves towards the gate one step at a time. Each one feels heavier and more difficult than the last, like she’s wading through water or waist-high snow. Until finally, she’s standing directly in front of the light. Her skin tingles under her fur. She closes her eyes and raises her hands, reaching out with her aura.

Like this, she can see the break in full clarity. Can see where Yveltal’s attack cleaved through layers of dimensional threads like a cut through veins and arteries, leaving the fabric of the barrier to unravel and bleed out.

Nia reaches for those loose threads, their frayed ends drifting and curling like string in water. She tries to use her aura to grab them, to hold them and draw them closer together.

The threads slip from Nia’s grasp, and she shakes her head as she tries to concentrate. She can’t pass out now, no matter how much that fight with Sulien took out of her.

“U-Um, is anyone else starting to feel kinda weird?” Junie calls out.

Nia’s ears swivel towards the bird’s voice. Junie’s feeling it too?

Soren curses, moving to Nia’s side and putting up a wall of protect to separate them from the break. Immediately, Nia’s thoughts clear.

“The instability of the barrier is the same as a forming mystery dungeon,” Soren explains, his eyes focused the rift. “Just…stronger.”

Which means if they’re unprotected, the tear could drive them all feral before they can even try to fix it. A fresh wave of fear prickles across Nia’s body.

“Can you hold the protect while we figure this out?” Tobias asks, joining Nia along with Junie and Samir.

Soren nods, his jaw clenched. His ear flicks back at the loud screech of Yveltal, still fighting somewhere behind them. “As long as they keep Yveltal occupied.”

Nia leaves him to it, refocusing on the impossible task of bridging the gap in front of her. Her aura manages to get a grip on some of the barrier’s torn threads, and her heart jumps when they follow her guidance, stretching in an attempt to reattach.

It’s not enough. Her aura is a mere drop in the ocean, and not nearly enough to patch the damage left in Yveltal’s wake. It’s like trying to span the Grand Canyon with a ruler, or trying to close an open chest wound with a band-aid. She doesn’t have even a fraction of the power needed to fill this monumental void and stitch the barrier back together.

Nia distantly hears another cry from Yveltal, and the sound of an attack being shot off. Bo mutters a curse before launching himself off the stone behind them. Nia hears and feels the sound of something being blocked mid-air, the skarmory playing defense. Fidel’s loping stride follows shortly after, the zoroark heading towards the fight as well.

Suddenly, Soren snarls and drops the protect entirely, jumping behind them to throw up a shield a moment before the giant form of Giratina crashes against it, thrown clear across the battlefield by Yveltal. Soren grunts, straining to hold the weight of the titan as Giratina regains his balance.

And leaving Nia and the others open to the effects of the break. Panic rolls through Nia’s gut as she immediately feels static coat her thoughts like a blanket of frost.

“Um, don’t worry! I’ve got it!” Junie cries, jumping up to Nia’s shoulder.

The rookidee concentrates, and after a moment, the orange of her aura appears in front of them like a tiny shield. Nia forgot Junie had figured out protect, too. Though judging by the way Junie strains and her aura flickers, the little bird won’t be able to hold it for long.

Still, it helps. Nia shakes her head, trying to focus again on the break in front of her. She can’t worry about her mind going. She just needs to figure this out.

Everything is connected. The energy of the barrier is the same energy used to cradle and sustain the world around them. If there was a deposit of extra aura large enough for Nia to access it and siphon it into the break, they might have a shot at this.

But the aura of the world is dangerously low after the slow bleed of its wound. There are no reserves left totake from. The biggest deposit of energy is the god a few hundred feet behind her, but she can’t just take it from Yveltal in his current state. He’s too powerful for her to simply punch it out of him, and aura doesn’t transfer easily without a willing donor.

If Nia could give her own life energy to guarantee the survival of this world and everyone in it, she would. She would do it in a heartbeat. But she’s not stupid. Giving her entire being would only be a drop in the bucket. It wouldn’t change anything.

Still, Nia can’t help pushing herself anyways, trying to pour the last of her aura into the barrier’s threads, the veins of the bleeding heart of this world. The threads stretch and reach, still practically miles apart, before Nia falters.

Nia gasps, falling to a knee. She feels warm blood trickle from her nose. Tobias cries out her name, his warm hands landing on her arm. Samir presses close against her other side. She can feel the concern radiating from their souls.

Junie’s aura falters in front of them, and the thick, syrupy weight of the barrier’s instability washes over Nia’s mind. Her thoughts start to slip away, minnows darting out of reach through clumsy fingers.

Junie, panting, looks around desperately. Her eyes lock onto something, and she quickly flutters away, ignoring Tobias’ yell for her to come back. The rookidee can’t be going for Soren. Nia can still sense the lucario warding off the two legendaries’ attacks to keep them from disrupting Nia.

Junie returns a few moments later, and Nia can’t help looking at the two unexpected souls she brings with her. Clara, the torracat innkeeper from the human settlement, and Seiji the bronzor, the researcher from Ghatha. They both look terrified, Clara’s striped fur standing on end.

“You said you’ve done it before, right?!” Junie yells over the roar of the break.

“Y-Yes,” Seiji says, floating low to the ground. “After I was attacked once, I practiced a bit. But—”

“Then I’ll explain later! Just know it’s really important, okay? Like, do or die important. Unless you wanna take your chances jumping into the void, then help me protect Nia!”

Junie hops back onto Nia’s shoulder, grunting as orange aura appears in front of them again. Immediately, a bit of breathing room returns to Nia’s thoughts.

After a moment, Seiji follows her lead. The psychic type floats in front of Nia, and another small shield of aura flickers to life, this one a lime green color.

“Clara, get your butt in here!” Junie yells.

Clara jolts. The torracat’s usual laid-back nature is nowhere to be seen as she slinks closer to Nia, her whole body shaking. She closes her eyes, bracing herself, and a moment later, a purple sheen of protect joins the other two.

Nia can breathe again. She looks up at the break. Its progress has slowed under her grip, but it’s still stretching wider and wider with every passing minute.

“Nia?” Tobias asks, his voice close. “You okay?”

“I don’t have enough aura,” Nia pants, “I-I can touch the barrier, I can, but I…I don’t have enough energy to close the break on my own.”

There’s a long pause, the howling of a dying world in Nia’s ears, before she feels Tobias’ aura brush against her own, the scarlet red of it like a lick of heat. Warm. Steadying.

“You don’t have to fix it on your own,” Tobias says. “You just need more aura, right? Then take mine.”

Nia’s breath catches, goosebumps rising under her fur.

…Could she do that? She can’t easily steal the blinding ball of aura that Yveltal holds in his chest when it isn’t given willingly, but she did use Fidel’s energy to supplement her own down in that prison cell, when she needed more aura to reach Junie at a distance.

Nia remembers her conversation with Soren in the mountains, seemingly so long ago.

“So the life energies of Pokemon and the world can plug into each other, but they’re also…separate, in a way. Which is why we haven’t seen regular Pokemon falling dormant or anything.”

Soren nods. “Only the legends are directly tied into the threads of the universe. The rest of us are simply contained within it.”

The legendaries are tied directly to the life force of this dimension, but regular Pokemon? They have their own aura. Their own souls. They haven’t been depleted by the barrier’s decay.

Could their aura be used to stabilize the barrier’s own? Like…a blood transfusion.

Nia squeezes her eyes shut, accepting Tobias’ aura. The charmander isn’t at all afraid of putting his literal life into her hands, but he does lean a little heavier on her afterwards as the exhaustion hits. In turn, she feels his energy surge within her like a shot of adrenaline.

It still isn’t enough. Not even close.

“Take mine too,” Junie grits, digging in her little claws. “I could use a nap anyways.”

Samir nods in agreement, pressing even harder into Nia’s side.

Aura slips from the two of them and into Nia, swirling in her chest as a bright, fiery orange and a beautiful, shining silver. The feeling of her friends so close to her, of their own emotions bleeding into her own, makes Nia rapidly blink back tears.

A moment later, a burst of purple and lime green joins them, and Nia takes a sharp breath. She doesn’t know if Clara and Seiji heard her, or if her soul was projecting her cry for help, but they’re giving her their energy willingly. Pleadingly. She can feel the emotions behind the action. The terror as they fear for their lives and the desperation to fix what has gone so horribly wrong.

But even with energy from all five of them, it won’t be enough. They need more. It would be a risk, dipping into the meager pool of aura that Nia was just given, but…

Nia does just that. She takes the energy she’s been given and pours her own feelings into their combined aura. All of her desperation and hope. Then, she directs that aura into the decimated battlefield behind her, letting it find the souls she knows best.

___________________________________________________________

Xander bristles when a sudden strange feeling slides into his chest.

He’s crouched low over Felix, protecting the immobile wartortle from any stray attacks with his own battered body, but he quickly scans the battlefield for threats. At his side, Kry—curled around a weakened Avery—tenses and looks around, too. They’re sheltering in the shadow of one of the steadier ruins, hunkered against fallen rock and trying to stay in one piece as the world shakes and roars, but Xander doesn’t see anyone nearby.

Wait.

Xander’s wariness falters after he realizes that he recognizes this feeling. He remembers it brushing against his own before in training, and during his aura reading. The familiarity behind the sensation is almost as soothing as Avery’s gentle telepathy.

Nia?

Xander looks towards the blinding light at the gate, past where Giratina and Yveltal still war. He thinks he can see a flash of colors standing before it: a tiny shield against the breaking world.

The aura in Xander’s chest speaks to him in something other than words, now that he’s listening for it. Emotions are projected to him like a pleading gaze or a reaching hand. Determination buzzes under the cry for help like a current of electricity.

“’S that Nia?” Felix asks weakly, still splayed out on the ground on his belly.

“It is,” Avery murmurs, just loud enough for Xander to hear. The kirlia lifts their head from where it had been slumped against Kry’s chest. “She needs our help.”

“What’re we s’pposed to do?” Kry growls. “We’re barely standing as is.”

It takes Xander a moment before he gets it. Before the surprise wanes enough for him to register the way Nia’s aura gently tugs at his own, like one of his little siblings trying to lead him somewhere. Coaxing, guiding.

“Our aura,” Xander says. “She needs our aura.”

“And how’re we supposed to give her that?”

“Don’t think about it so hard,” Avery teases, knocking a hand against Kry’s armor and closing their eyes again. “Nia’s already made you a path. Just…let her lead, and she’ll do the rest.”

Xander takes a breath and tries to do just that, closing his eyes. He finds Nia’s aura again, and this time allows it to drain his strength in the same way he discharges electricity through his claws. His body quickly grows weak with fatigue, but he doesn’t slow the flow of energy until he starts to feel faint and has to sit down to avoid collapsing on top of Felix.

Xander looks at his teammates as they do the same. He’d been so afraid today that they wouldn’t make it out of this alive, but now he tries to focus on how relieved he is that they’re still here, at least for now. He understands the deep, protective love humming through Nia’s aura, because that’s how he feels about his team. About his little siblings, and Team Scarlet, and August, and everyone at the guild who saved his life so many years ago.

Xander digs his claws into the ground and pushes his body just a bit further, willing to do anything to protect the ones he loves.

That includes you, Nia. Stay safe.

___________________________________________________________

Val freezes mid-step during their escape to the trees surrounding the battlefield. Azami’s arm is slung over her shoulders, the tsareena leaning heavily against her, but she still lifts her head at the abrupt stop.

“Is that..?” Azami asks, her voice trailing off.

So she can feel it too.

“Nia,” Val confirms. She recognizes the aura of the little riolu instantly, familiar blue energy mingling with her own.

Val has never been especially attuned to aura or her psychic abilities, always relying more heavily on the fighting half of her lineage. But if she closes her eyes and focuses, she can still sense that world at work around her: threads of Nia’s aura, tinted kaleidoscopic with life energy not fully her own, reaching out to any soul on the battlefield willing to listen.

So Val stops to help. Because she is still the riolu’s mentor, even now.

Val guides Azami down to the stone to sit, trying to be gentle with the tsareena’s injuries and murmuring an apology when the grass type hisses in pain. Val’s eyes flick warily to the Pokemon around them who are still alive and conscious. While the fighting stopped when Yveltal awoke, she doesn’t want to take any chances.

Some ‘mon are clearly scared stiff, trembling low against the ground as the light at the altar tears wider and wider and the strange sensation of Nia’s aura finds their very souls. Others seem to latch onto the sudden presence in their chest, their brow furrowed as they try to make sense of it.

A breathy laugh catches Val’s attention, and she looks over to find a battle-worn braviary nearby with a white scarf tied around her leg. One of her wings hangs at her side, limp and bloody. There’s an old scar taking up half of her face, but she’s grinning as wide as she can with her twisted beak.

“Pup, you’re just full of surprises.”

As the braviary closes her eyes, Val can almost feel the flying type taking Nia’s guidance, allowing the riolu to drain her of her energy.

Around them, other ‘mon—even those who have no psychic or aura inclination—seem to be able to feel what Nia is asking of them. One by one, Val sees them accept the offered hand. A terrified boltund is cowering with their tail tucked, eyes shut tight as they murmur prayers under their breath. A roserade bows his head to concentrate, despite the grave expression on his face.

“She’s trying to fix this, isn’t she?” Azami laughs, even as she winces in pain. “Well, better than lying down and giving up. I don’t mind betting my money on her.”

Val doesn’t, either. She knows Nia, knows how strong she is, and knows how her open mind and curiosity has lead to her improving in leaps and bound. But even if she didn’t know Nia, Val would still trust the feelings being projected to her all the same. There’s nothing to do but trust such a desperate, fierce love. The love of someone fighting for something greater than herself.

So Val closes her eyes, and gives herself willingly to Nia’s call.

You are stronger than you know, Nia. You can do this.

___________________________________________________________

Fidel ducks under a massive, flailing wing, and Rosalind does the same a few yards over. Giratina has Yveltal pinned against the stone steps of the altar with his serpentine body, and miraculously, the god of death does seem to be weakening, slowly but surely.

Yveltal shoots off another beam of destructive energy that arcs towards the gate. Fidel’s eyes follow it, fearful, but the blue of Soren’s aura manages to shield Nia’s group from any damage, thankfully.

It’s a moment later that Fidel feels Nia’s aura brush up against his own.

It’s a familiar sensation after connecting so often down in Will’s prison cell, though the shape of it is different than before. Rather than gently prodding Fidel’s aura to check on his wellbeing or extracting his aura with a faint air of gratitude, Nia’s aura burns with emotion. Her fear and hope feels like a barely-contained wildfire, ready to consume even further if given the proper kindling.

Fidel sees a few of the other ‘mon—Bo in the air, as well as Rosalind and the zangoose outlaw nearby—pause in the middle of their attacks.

“Interesting,” Rosalind hums.

‘Interesting’ undersells it a bit, Fidel thinks.

The zangoose lifts a paw to his chest. His voice is wary as he asks, “What in Arceus’ name is that?”

“A little prodigy, apparently,” Rosalind says with a smile. The haterene’s smile drops as she commands, “Follow her lead if you want your daughter to have a world to wake up to.”

The zangoose’s expression tightens, and he nods.

Fidel’s own mind flashes to Asher, the zorua hopefully holed away safely with the other kids at the guild. A ferocious amount of love rears up in Fidel’s chest, for his son and for all of the lives he wants to protect. For Nia and Tobias and Junie and Samir, the kids trying to save the world even as it falls apart around them.

That’s what Nia’s aura feels like. Like love, and like fighting to hold onto something with everything you have.

Fidel doesn’t close his eyes, still wary of Yveltal’s struggling, but he does gladly send what little energy he has left into the link to Nia’s soul.

Hold on, Nia. We’re with you.

___________________________________________________________

Nia gasps, the tears in her eyes overflowing at the feeling of hundreds of fearful desperate hopeful souls offering their aura from the battlefield behind her. She recognizes some of them, but the majority are strangers. And still, they give their life energy to her freely, responding to her call with their own plea.

Save us. Please.

The energy builds in Nia’s body, too much for her small frame to handle, and she hurries to siphon it into the break. Her arms strain as she tries to draw the edges of the wound closed to stitch them together. The frayed threads of aura grow and reach like roots.

For a moment, Nia thinks this is it. That they’ll do it. That this will fix everything.

But the growth slows. The break has narrowed, like an eye starting to slide shut, but Nia can feel the aura from the ‘mon behind her starting to wane as they simply run out of energy to give. The tear is just too immense, bigger than a few hundred exhausted souls.

It’s not enough. If Nia stops, she knows the tear will widen until it all unravels, but she doesn’t know how she can possibly span such a gap. She can’t take any energy from the environment, not when it’s tied directly into the barrier, but there just aren’t any more Pokemon nearby to take aura from. If she had the rest of the guild here, then maybe—

Nia’s mind snags on that thought.

She remembers what Soren said up in the mountains, about bonds. About how, with enough aura, Nia could reach just about anyone she’s connected with on an emotional level, no matter how far away they are.

“If you are close with someone, or at least familiar with their aura, it is easier to connect to them, even from a distance. Familiarity creates a sort of…magnetism between souls.”

So all she needs is a connection, right? Some sort of bond or emotional attachment. At least for the initial connection, and then she can reach out to anyone near them, too. She just has to find them first, like electricity being drawn to a lightning rod.

“Theoretically, there is no limit. You could connect with someone on the other side of the planet, though that would require much more aura than you or I will ever have.”

Was he exaggerating? Or if Nia just had the necessary energy, could she really reach that far?

Nia breathes harshly through the copper on her tongue, trying to think despite the screaming of the world around them. Despite the pain of so much energy coursing through her body, burning through her muscles and down to her very bones.

Nia needs more energy if she’s going to attempt this. But if she can’t pull any more aura from herself or from the ‘mon nearby, then…

She looks up into the blinding light of the break.

It would be such a gamble. Nia could be ending the world herself, rather than waiting for the universe to do it instead, but…

Does she have any other option but to try?

Nia swallows. She slows the flow of energy into the barrier, until it comes to a total stop at an equilibrium. And then she pulls, taking that energy from the barrier back into her body. The threads she’d worked so hard to build retract once more.

“Nia?” Tobias asks in her ear, startled.

Nia feels the world SCREAM as the tapestry loosens. She keeps pulling at the threads of energy, ripping at seams even as holes form elsewhere. The shaking underfoot gets worse.

Fast. She has to be fast.

Nia pulls from the barrier, borrowing from the world’s flagging aura until her body is screaming with pressure and pain.

She thinks of home. Not her home in the human world, but her home here. She thinks of the people who have been with her from the start, guiding her and befriending her and helping her grow into who she is. Love sits heavy in her chest.

As Nia reaches out, she holds onto that feeling with everything she has.

___________________________________________________________

“Fen! Do you have the left side secure?” Maggie calls, poking her head out into the hallway of the medical wing.

She tries not to look out the lattice window there, showing treetops roiling like angry ocean waves. She hears the distant falling of another tree in the Haven’s forest.

Maggie expects the earthquakes to pick up again at any second. She can still hear the echo of bowls and jars getting shaken off their shelves to shatter across the floor. Around her, medics bustle back and forth, trying to make sure that all of their patients are as secure as possible before the next one hits.

Fen appears in a doorway further down, Sage right behind them. The leafeon looks like they’re barely holding it together, just as much as Maggie is. “I-I think so, but…”

Maggie’s breath catches, her antennae lifting as a strange sensation hits her right in the chest. Something about it soothes her as quickly as it alarms her, and a moment later she realizes that she recognizes the feeling. She’s experienced this gentle touch before. Bright ruby eyes and a sweet smile come to mind, even as an undercurrent of desperation skims beneath the surface.

…Nia?

Maggie locks startled eyes with Fen and Sage, who went silent a second after she did. Around them, the rest of the floor has fallen quiet, too. Medics have stopped in their tracks.

Are they all feeling the same thing as her? Receiving the same message? It’s not in spoken word, but Maggie understands it all the same, clear as day.

Nia needs their help.

Fear tightens in Maggie’s throat. If Nia’s asking for help, then Maggie’s children must be in danger. She knows they’re right at the heart of all this.

But Maggie can’t go running off to save them, so she has to swallow down her feelings and try to stay calm. She has to help however she can.

Maggie can feel Nia’s aura gently guiding her own, herding her down something like a path. Maggie trusts Nia with all that she is, so she allows the riolu to do what she needs to do, even as it drains the energy from Maggie’s already tired body.

“W-What is this?” a nearby blissey whispers, clearly nervous.

“Listen to her,” Maggie says, loud and sure even as she sinks to the floor, too weak to stay standing. “You can trust her. And if you want this world to stay in one piece, you will help her.”

Fen and Sage rush to Maggie’s side. She sees the leafeon’s ears droop with sudden fatigue and the ivysaur’s leaves tremble as the two of them send their own energy to Nia.

The medics around them seem uncertain, but as another quake starts up, the tree beneath them creaking and swaying like a great ship, Maggie sees them brace against walls and doorframes as they squeeze their eyes shut. She prays that they’re listening to her.

Maggie knows that the world itself is at stake, but her anxious thoughts circle back time and again to her kids, out in the middle of this mess. She sends a little extra love down the line to Nia, hoping the riolu can somehow feel it.

Please be safe, all of you. Please come back to me.

___________________________________________________________

The earthquakes are getting worse. The crashing, rattling trees and whipping winds outside are deafening even in the enclosed room. Andyn presses tighter against Ezra and Jaz, and she feels their pounding heartbeats mirror her own. Curled around all three of them are the big, protective arms of Jaz’s mom and dad. The bewear and chesnaught ran to their daughter’s side as soon as they realized something was seriously wrong.

Something in Andyn’s heart stings at how quickly the two of them rushed to be there for their daughter, but she shoves the hurt down the best she can. Instead, she tries to focus on how the two of them hold Andyn and Ezra with just as much care.

Somehow, despite the world falling apart around them, Andyn feels safer than she has in a long time.

The deerling’s ears prick and her head whips up as she feels…something, deep in her chest. Something that reminds her of tentative paws and a soft voice asking for help. Beneath the gentle touch, there’s a bright core of bravery and strength that Andyn can only hope to match one day.

“Nia?” Andyn breathes.

“That feels like her all right,” Ezra chuckles. Jaz nods.

Andyn doesn’t know what this means, why she can suddenly feel her friend’s presence. At least until she realizes the feeling in her chest is moving, tugging at something in her very being. Is that…her aura?

“I think…” Andyn says, trying to listen for something that can’t be heard. Something that can only be felt, crying out like a child lost in a mystery dungeon. “I-I think Nia needs our help.”

“Nia?” Jaz’s mother echoes, a giant paw resting over her heart.

“You can feel her too?” Jaz asks, surprised.

“Nia’s our friend,” Andyn explains. She channels a bit of that old leader authority back into her voice as she adds, “You can trust her. If Nia needs our help, then it’s important.”

“We have to help her,” Jaz adds, soft but determined.

Unlike Andyn’s parents—unlike her dad who’s at death’s door and her mom who might already be dead—Jaz’s parents listen to the two of them without hesitation. They exchange a look, and then close their eyes, visibly concentrating on that feeling in their chest.

Andyn swallows hard, blinking back stupid tears at how easily Jaz’s parents trusted the two of them, just like that. Trusted that Andyn and Jaz know what they’re talking about.

Andyn shakes those thoughts from her head and takes a deep breath before following their lead. She latches onto Nia’s outstretched aura, channeling her own emotions towards her friend with all the power she can muster.

You can do this, Nia. You’re the strongest Seeker I know.

___________________________________________________________

“Hey, c’mon, don’t cry so hard,” Asher says, his voice breaking. “You’ve gotta breathe, okay?”

The zorua is packed into the middle of a crowd of children from the Lexym nursery, hidden away on the ground floor of the guild for safety. He feels impossibly young right now, even though he’s one of the oldest ones here.

And he really, really wants his Dad.

The shinx cubs are clustered together in front of Asher, bawling. At their side is Bella the bellsprout, and a shiny pachirisu with white and pink fur that shimmers even in the dim lighting. They’re surrounded by other sniffling, whimpering children who are terrified of the shaking underfoot and the tension in the air.

Asher feels the same way, but he tries not to let it show.

Arlo is trying to console everyone, but the drampa can only speak to so many kids at once, or hide so many away in his soft fur. He already has a whole crowd of little grass and normal types stashed away beneath the fluff on his chest.

“C’mon, it’ll be okay,” Asher says, hating that it feels like a lie. “I promise. W-We’ll be all right.”

“You don’t know that!” the nearby pachirisu hiccups, glaring at Asher with what is probably supposed to be an angry face. She just looks afraid. “M-My daddy looked really scared when he left, and he’s never scared! We all know something bad’s happening, so just shut up!”

Asher whips his fluffy tail around to cover her mouth, glaring at her as a hoppip who had overheard starts to wail.

“I do know that it’ll be okay,” Asher bluffs, raising his voice so it will carry to the other kids. “Because my dad and Nia and Tobias and all the guild are fighting to protect us. And they’re super strong.”

A few of the kids around them perk up, looking at Asher like a lifeline. His stomach twists.

The pachirisu’s angry retort dies out as she blinks. “…Nia and Tobias?”

“Yeah!”

Somehow, that seems to calm the electric type. “Oh. I…I know them. They saved me from getting attacked by some nasty seviper.”

Asher grins. “Then you know I’m right!”

The pachirisu opens her mouth to respond, then stops at the same time that Asher feels something familiar curl through his chest like a breath of fresh air. He recognizes it instantly, from just a few days ago in that prison cell during their rescue mission.

Nia.

Help, that feeling in Asher’s chest whispers. It’s soft, pulling at him like his father’s claws gently carding through his fur to untangle the knots there. If you can, please help.

“It’s Nia!” Asher cries. The sniveling had stopped when Nia’s aura brushed over all of them, and now dozens of eyes look at him, round and scared. “S-She’s a Seeker, and she’s gonna save us. Listen to her and help her out if you can, okay? She’s really nice, I promise.”

Some of the children start crying again, but others look at each other, before nodding uncertainly, probably just happy to have a direction to follow. The shinx cubs in front of Asher have lifted their heads from their tangle of limbs.

“That’s Nia?” Leor rasps.

“It is!” Laine says, excited even though the fur of her face is still wet with tears. “I can feel her!”

“And that means Toby’s with her too, right?” Luca asks, hope sparking in his golden eyes. “A-And Xander?”

Asher nods, even if he isn’t sure, because he thinks it’s what they need to hear.

The three cubs look at each other and nod. They close their eyes as their faces scrunch up in concentration.

Asher smiles, glancing at the pachirisu only to see her doing the same thing.

He follows their lead, letting Nia’s gentle energy wrap around him like a hug. He thinks of the brave riolu helping his dad escape that awful prison. Thinks of her in a cell, enveloped in psychic energy and crying out in pain as she’s punished for Asher being too slow to escape the guard’s notice.

It’s time I paid you back for that, Nia.

___________________________________________________________

Nia almost collapses when she feels a wave of fresh aura swallow her own, growing in her chest like a breath too big for her lungs. Hundreds of different hopes and pleas course through her, but she focuses on the ones she recognizes. Maggie’s love, Andyn’s faith, and even Asher’s gratitude. She can feel their energy adding to the pool of aura in her body.

She did it. She reached them.

Nia pours the rush of energy into the barrier, stabilizing it again. The threads reach farther than they had before, spreading like roots, like reaching fingers, slowly crawling across the kaleidoscopic light of the break.

In front of Nia, Seiji falters, his protective shield disappearing as he gasps for air. Nia’s thoughts start to go fuzzy.

Junie curses, strained, and looks back over her shoulder. “Clara, hold down the fort!”

The torracat’s head whips up towards Junie. “What?!”

Junie darts away. Clara growls and presses forward on her own, trying in vain to keep the raw energy of the rift from blanketing Nia’s mind.

Nia closes her eyes, desperately trying to keep ahold of her thoughts. It feels like slowly losing her grip on a rope, sweaty palms slipping and burning against rough fiber.

“Just picture it in front of you, like a shield!”

Junie’s voice returns a moment before her weight settles back on Nia’s shoulder. A bit of the static in Nia’s head recedes.

Then, it happens again. And again. Nia’s thoughts become clearer and clearer, like smog lifting to make way for a crystal-clear view.

Nia cracks open an eye.

A wall of energy spans in front of her in a rainbow of colors, aura slowly flickering into being in a multitude of hues like a stained glass window. At her side, more and more Pokemon shuffle closer to the break, visibly concentrating despite the terror on their faces and how unsure they seem about what they’re doing. Junie shouts instructions and encouragements at them, and all at once Nia realizes what she’s seeing.

A patchwork protect, made from dozens of souls. Human souls.

Nia’s heart swells. She clenches her teeth hard enough to crack as she pours even more aura into the barrier. The edges stretch and reach, the split of the void slowly growing smaller and smaller before progress once again slows to a stop.

They’re getting closer. But it’s still not enough.

A pained noise rips from Nia’s throat, her other leg giving out so she’s kneeling before the break like a criminal before their executioner. Distantly, she feels Tobias, Samir, Junie, and the others press closer around her, holding her upright.

Nia refuses to give up. Not when they’re this close. Not when this is working. If the barrier needs more energy, then Nia will just have to reach farther.

She squeezes her eyes shut, gathering the energy burning like a star within her chest. Then, she sends her aura shooting down the pathways of the fraying world. She sends her desperation and her hope as she reaches for those she’s felt a connection to. Those she’s loved, no matter how briefly.

Luckily, Nia has always been full of love for those around her.

___________________________________________________________

The front door blows open a few rooms over, letting in the distant sound of pounding rain and crashing waves before slamming shut again. Familiar footsteps follow, along with the drip of water on wood flooring. Hazel looks up as Beck enters their bedroom, the floatzel’s thick fur soaked through.

“Finally got Delia to leave the ship and head indoors,” her husband sighs. He takes a levitating towel from Hazel’s psychic powers with a murmur of thanks. “It’s a mess out there. Never seen a storm this bad, ‘specially not here in the Cap.”

Hazel doesn’t respond. Instead, she tugs Beck towards their bed so he can curl around her and the rest of their family, wet fur or not. At Hazel’s side, Margo and Maya are rocking the boys to soothe them. The two pichu whimper anyways, hiding their faces deeper into their parent’s pelts.

“Something’s really wrong, isn’t it?” Maya whispers. The azumarill’s paw is pressed gently against Tommy’s ear, trying to keep him calm even as she trembles.

No one answers her. Hazel and Beck exchange a worried look. The world has been on a decline for a while now, but to be suddenly struck by such an otherworldly storm? The raichu fears her daughter-in-law is right.

The ground starts to shake, and Hazel tugs her family closer with her psychic powers. Distantly, over the shrill cries of her grandkids, Hazel registers the clatter of wooden sculptures in the shop and around their home tumbling to the ground.

Slowly, the shaking settles. Hazel looks over her family, relieved that everyone seems unhurt.

That is, until Margo gently pushes Theo into her wife’s arms to join his brother. The two pichu curl into their mom with scared whimpers, and the azumarill looks up with wide, wet eyes.

“Margo?”

“I’m gonna secure some of Mama’s carvings real quick,” Margo says, the pikachu’s paws out in a placating gesture. “I’ll be right back!”

Beck snatches her right off the bed before she can scamper off.

Margo doesn’t spark—she never sparks around her water type father or wife—but she does look upset, her ears pinned as she struggles. “Mama’s work is gonna get broken if I don’t—”

“Margo, sit your butt down this instant,” Hazel scolds, her voice warbling. “I do not care about the carvings, and Maya and the boys need you.”

Margo finally stills, her eyes locking onto her wife’s trembling expression as Maya cradles both kids. Beck sets her down and then curls back around them all. Margo takes Theo back, mumbling apologies.

Together, they huddle in the dim light of Hazel and Beck’s bedroom, hearts pounding. Hazel can hear the waves of Afon’s lake crashing over the docks and lapping at their front door. She wonders how long they’ll have to wait until the next quake hit. She wonders if she’s about to lose her family for a second time.

Hazel’s ears perk as she feels the gentlest touch, somewhere close to where she stores her psychic energy. The raichu doesn’t recognize it at first, but it feels like her grandsons’ young, grasping paws, like someone she wants to protect asking for her help. It takes her a moment longer to place the fact that the energy feels not only familiar, but…like a mirror. Like someone Hazel understands deep in her soul. Someone human.

“Nia,” Hazel breathes, tears welling in her eyes.

“Nia? But how is she..?” Beck trails off, looking down at Theo and Tommy, who have stopped crying to blink teary, confused eyes at nothing.

Hazel can sense Nia’s energy connecting to them as well. To all of them. It brings with it Nia’s emotions, a tangle of fear and hope that matches Hazel’s own. Is this Nia’s aura powers at work?

“The ‘how’ doesn’t matter,” Hazel decides, suddenly more sure of it than anything. “Nia’s asking for our help. So we help.”

“You heard your mother,” Beck says, amused despite everything. “I don’t fully know what’s happening either, but Nia needs us.”

Hazel feels a wash of pride as Beck bows his head to concentrate. After a moment of hesitation, Margo and Maya follow suit, trusting Hazel’s judgement.

Hazel closes her own eyes and focuses on Nia’s warm presence in her chest. Affection and gratitude mingle with guilt in her head, for the scared girl who came to her for answers she couldn’t give. In that brief visit, Hazel saw so much of herself within Nia.

And that’s why she trusts Nia now. Why Hazel lets Nia guide her energy away without hesitation. She hopes that the riolu can somehow feel her support, wherever she is.

I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth, Nia, but I know you’ll do what’s right for this world. For our home.

___________________________________________________________

Granite is tense as the wooden floor of the inn finally takes a break from quaking underfoot. Deidra had bustled all of her patrons into the storeroom as soon as the earthquakes started up, so tensions are high with how many folks are crowded into such a small space.

“Thought we were done with all o’ this nonsense,” Granite grumbles.

Granite glances up at Takeo, more worried about his partner than himself. Donphan are sturdy, but the spidops may not survive if this keeps up and the whole building comes down right on top of them. It doesn’t help that an unnaturally violent dust storm kicked up at the same time, and Granite can still hear it rattling the windows out by the bar.

Takeo, tucked against the wall with his long arms atop Granite’s back, is spinning something with his thread. The spidops always does that when he’s nervous. “This feels different than the quakes Eddy caused.”

He’s right. Eddy’s little scheme beneath Fort Asra caused some nasty earthquakes, but not wind like this. Not this pressure in Granite’s ears. Granite just doesn’t want to admit that this could be something more serious. More final.

Leila, sitting across the small space, looks up. The lilligant is trying to keep up a strong front for her daughter, but she’s clearly worried as she asks, “You think this is somethin’ new?”

Deidra, whose long, sensitive lopunny ears must be hurting even more than Granite’s, is seated on the floor next to Leila and her bud, trying to help calm the petilil. “I’m sure it—"

They all wince as another window of the inn shatters, loud enough to be heard through the door. Leila’s kid cries out in fear and hides deeper in her mom’s petals. Cody curls a protective armored tail around Deidra, the aggron a quiet but looming presence in the darkness.

Calder moves from his place against the wall, the inteleon clearly itchin’ to go outside and make sure the damage isn’t too great.

“Sit down, Calder,” Granite grunts. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere in this mess, and I ain’t goin’ after you to drag you back inside.”

Granite knows the sheriff just wants to help, that he hates being cooped up in here when the rest of the town is also dealing with nature itself throwin’ a fit of all fits, but Granite isn’t gonna let Calder follow his partner to the afterlife so soon.

Calder casts Granite a dry look, but he does stop with a frustrated lash of his long, curled tail.

Takeo holds something out above Granite’s head, towards the inteleon. “Hand this to the sprout, Calder.”

With nothing else to do, Calder takes the crudely-spun cottonee doll that Takeo just whipped up and passes it wordlessly over to Leila.

The lilligant perks up. She calls a quiet thank you before prying her daughter far enough from her lap to see the new toy. “Look, Sylvie! Look what Mr. Takeo made you.”

The petilil stops crying long enough to look at the doll with a sniff. Then her eyes go wide as she takes it in her little arms. Granite’s heart warms.

Another quake starts up as if to shatter the sweet moment, and Granite braces his feet wide with a grunt. Sylvie cries out, clutching the little toy as she hides again in her mama’s leaves.

And then, Granite feels something else. Something like…psychic type energy, snakin’ through his chest. It would be alarming, if the feeling of it wasn’t so tender. If it didn’t tug at him like a familiar face trying to get his attention, trying to call his name through a howling gale.

He feels like he recognizes it.

“You feel that too?” Takeo asks, probably sensing the tension in Granite’s body.

“I think we all are,” Calder says, straightening up as the latest quake settles. The inteleon seems wary, but there’s something else to the crease in his brow. Less fight and more like he’s puzzlin’ something out.

“Feel familiar t’you too?” Granite asks.

Calder nods.

“It might be silly,” Deidra says, catching everyone’s attention. “But…for some reason, it’s makin’ me think of that little riolu on Team Scarlet. Nia.”

That’s it. That’s the vague, half-recognized voice through the storm. Granite isn’t great with psychic energy or aura or whatever’s goin’ on here, so he can’t explain why it feels like Nia, except that there’s some kind of familiarity there. A lick of fond gratitude and respect rising in his chest as he meets with the sudden guest inside his ribcage. It greets him like an old friend, like a neighbor wavin’ hi on their way to the inn for a drink.

Except…there’s something else there, too. A heaviness. A sense of urgency. A protectiveness that Granite usually only reserves for his partner and for his town.

Looks like Nia and that hotheaded partner of hers are out playing hero again.

“If it really is her,” Takeo says, quiet. “Then it seems like she needs our help this time around.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Deidra leans forward, paws propped up on Cody’s tail, ready to do whatever needs to be done. “I owe that sweet thing more than a few meals on the house, anyways.”

“It’s the neighborly thing to do,” Granite agrees, only half-joking. He looks at Takeo. “How do we help?”

The spidops’ eyes narrow in thought. He isn’t the best with this kind of stuff, either, but he’s clever, so Granite knows he’ll figure it out.

Sure enough, it’s only a few moments later that Takeo says, “I’m thinking it’s like my webs. Nia’s made a path for us, so all we have to do is be ready and…let her lead the way.”

No one argues with that vague instruction. Even Calder just bows his head to concentrate.

Well, Granite ain’t gonna be left behind. He closes his eyes and bumps against that strange feeling in his chest, like telling a hiking buddy to go on ahead because he’ll be right behind ‘em. Granite hates piling their problems on the pup once again, but…

I don’t know what exactly is happenin’ out there, little riolu, but I can tell it’s important. If this’ll help you and help our town, then take whatever you need from me. You saved us once. I know you can do it again.

___________________________________________________________

“Eira!” Carnelian calls in relief, looking out from the Matriarch’s front door. He has to fight the wind to keep it open, squinting to see his cousin through heavy snow. “Y-You found some supplies?”

“Those brutes didn’t find my reserves,” the froslass answers as she reaches him, a clinking bag slung over her shoulder. The decimated village is barely visible through the blizzard behind her.

As she bustles inside, Carnelian glances nervously overhead, past the building’s eaves and to the shelf of ice jutting above them, hastily erected earlier this morning. The sableye closes the door and follows Eira down the hall of the Matriarch’s grand, cozy house, his clawed hands wringing under his cloak. While he can help treat ‘mon as Eira’s assistant, he’s pretty much useless on his own. He’s glad she’s back, even if he does have bad news.

“R-Rora’s fever spiked while you were out.”

Eira doesn’t answer as the two of them sweep into the Matriarch’s lounge, where furniture has been shoved aside for their makeshift infirmary. Injured ‘mon are laid out on bedrolls, and Carnelian forces himself to look at them and their bandaged forms, trying to fight off the memory of being attacked by ruthless outlaws just last night. Fire types who tore into their village and burned their homes to the ground, hurting lucario and civilians alike. Children, even. All to take Yveltal away.

Carnelian tries not to think about the dead lined up outside, behind the Matriarch’s home and kept preserved by the cold.

“Thank goodness there was some burn heal left,” Eira whispers, settling at Rora’s side and unloading various containers of medicine from her backup storage.

It’s a miracle the supplies survived the attack. Most of their personal belongings didn’t. Carnelian feels a fresh pang of loss as he thinks of the piles of ash that were once his beloved books, but he tries to focus.

Rora had a painful-looking burn along one side of her body from a pyroar’s attack, but the raw skin is now hidden away beneath soothing poultices and bandages. It’s the vulpix’s quick, shallow breaths and the heat radiating from her body that worries Carnelian the most, though. An ice type should never feel so warm.

“Anyone else take a turn while I was out?” Eira asks, all business as she wakes Rora and urges her to drink some of the burn heal. Rora whimpers, but manages to swallow the dose before her head flops back to the blankets.

Carnelian does another quick sweep of the room, his throat tightening as he takes in the still forms of injured lucario and village ‘mon. His eyes linger on the Matriarch, impossibly small and fragile where she’s laid out nearby.

“No,” Carnelian rasps. “I-I think everyone else is in the same state as before.”

“Nouf?”

“N-Not back yet. I think she was gonna search with one of the lucario farther down the mountainside, i-in case anyone tried to flee that way last night.”

“I told them to stay in the village,” Eira mutters, even if she doesn’t seem surprised. The froslass knows as well as Carnelian does that the ‘mon of the village who are still able to search are going to continue to look for those who are still missing.

They still haven’t found Lumi, and the sandslash’s son has been inconsolable. Carnelian can’t hear him crying in the other room, so hopefully that means he fell asleep.

Carnelian doesn’t get to respond before the ground shakes beneath their feet. It’s slight, and over quickly, but they brace themselves as they hear the sound of another avalanche. A roar like rushing water passes over the roof, shaking the entire building. Some of the ‘mon around them cry out. Most of them sleep right through it.

Carnelian shuffles closer to Eira, hoping desperately that the protective ice overhead holds under the weight of all that snow. His heart is pounding when everything settles again.

“Carnelian, can you check the kitchen for—” Eira cuts herself off, a surprised burst of cold wafting from her body and making Carnelian shiver.

Carnelian feels it too: a strange sensation in his chest. He locks up, unfamiliar with such a psychic-adjacent feeling when he doesn’t have his ring target on him. For an instant, he panics, until the feeling in his chest curls around his anxiety, soothing it like the cool press of cave walls.

It’s that gentle action that makes Carnelian recognize it. Protective and diligent and soothing all at once, a familiar flash of blue from their time digging for Yveltal in the mountains.

“Nia,” Eira says, echoing his thoughts.

Carnelian nods. “I-I think so. And I think…she might need our help.”

Despite how Nia’s aura tries to calm Carnelian’s own, he can still feel the tension behind it. How her aura tugs at him with the sort of frightened desperation usually reserved for Carnelian himself. How hard she’s fighting, for him and for Eira and for everyone.

“We don’t have a lot of help left to give,” Eira says, her voice tight as she looks at her patients.

She’s right. And Carnelian knows he has to keep enough strength to help Eira out. The village is depending on them, even if that thought makes Carnelian want to puke from sheer anxiety.

But…whatever Nia is facing is likely just as important to their survival.

Carnelian shakes his head, deciding that he can do both. He’s going to do both. For once, he doesn’t let himself second-guess or fret for hours over a decision. Instead, he puts his trust in Nia and follows her lead, siphoning off just enough energy so he won’t leave himself and their charges completely helpless.

I’m trying to be brave too, Nia. I hope this can help you like you helped me.

___________________________________________________________

Nia grunts as more and more aura pours into her body from souls far beyond the battlefield. It doesn’t slow down, rushing through her and into the barrier like a whitewater river.

She recognizes Hazel and Beck’s family, and the crew of the Aqua Jet. Granite and Takeo and the Pokemon in Fort Asra. Carnelian and Eira and the injured townsfolk up in Silenfroar.

She recognizes Hadley the golisopod, hunkering down in his hut near the guild with some of the other forest ‘mon. A roselia and teddiursa, a tropius mother and her calf, two ponyta apprentices and their mentor, a leavanny and her sewaddle children, and countless others. All of the Pokemon they’ve met and helped and connected with over the last half a year.

And it’s not just the souls Nia knows, but those around them, too. It’s a great web of connections, sending her their energy at its center. Everyone Nia’s life has touched, as well as the lives around them, multiplying endlessly.

The world is dying, but the souls living in it are saying, Not yet. Not if we can do anything about it.

Nia can hardly feel her body anymore, numb with sensation as power tears through her and funnels into the barrier. Before her, the threads continue to grow, filling in like slow-moving lightning. The opening thins, like a waning moon.

There’s a weak cry from Yveltal behind them, followed by a heavy thud that shakes the earth.

And then, louder, Giratina roars, “Now, Nia! Finish this!”

Nia feels one last wave of aura flash through her, familiar despite the fact that she’s never felt it before. Silver, like armor. Like the structure beneath a building. Like a cold, lonely moon.

Giratina.

Nia pushes the flow of aura to go even faster, tears streaming down her face as she screams through gritted teeth. She feels everyone’s desperate desire to protect, to hold on tight to this beautiful world and everyone in it.

For a moment, Nia thinks of her family. Her human family, who she’s been fighting to get back to for so long. The family that she’s now choosing to lose forever.

She likes to think they’d be proud of her.

I love you, she thinks, like a message in a bottle thrown across space and time. I’m going to miss you so, so much, but…

Nia focuses on what little sensation her body can still feel. The warmth of Tobias and Samir on either side of her, holding her up. Junie’s feathers brushing against the side of Nia’s face.

But I have a family here, too. And I will do anything to protect them.

Nia pushes more and more aura into the break. The frayed edges brush like reaching fingers before finally, finally—

They meet. Strands of aura connect and weave together, twining with the breathtaking precision of a loom creating a work of art.

As the threads of aura tighten, the eye of light starts to stitch closed. Slowly, slowly, and then all at once.

And like an open window on the freeway suddenly rolling shut, silence falls, ringing in Nia’s ears. The ground underfoot sways, but gradually calms.

Nia stares at the endless morning sky where the break once was, her arms trembling and each breath ripping from her throat. She can’t feel her body anymore aside from a raw sort of burn in her chest, but…

“D-Did we do it?” Junie whispers, loud enough to be heard through the ringing silence. She and the other humans slowly release their aura, staring at the sky in disbelief.

“I…think so?” Tobias rasps.

Soren steps up to their side, clearly unsteady on his feet. The lucario’s eyes are wide as they move from the sky to look at Nia with a sort of baffled wonder. “It’s stable. The barrier is stable.”

The silence continues as the world itself seems to hold its breath.

Junie’s the first one to react, screaming an overjoyed sound that is slowly picked up by the Pokemon around them, and then the crowd at their backs, countless voices cheering and sobbing.

“We did it,” Tobias breathes. He looks at Nia with shining blue eyes. “You did it.”

Nia stares at him, still in disbelief, and then back at the sky. She’s waiting for them to be wrong. Waiting for everything to unravel once again. Faintly, her aura reaches out from her exhausted husk of a body to brush against the barrier. Just to see for herself.

The aura is still weak here, still slowly knitting itself back together in layers like healing musculature, but…it’s stable. The break has been closed, and the barrier has enough energy to heal itself now. To heal everything, in time. The threads of the world are visibly healthier already, pulsing with life and strengthening by the second.

They did it. They actually did it.

Nia laughs. She laughs until fresh tears roll down her face and relief makes her head spin. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Tobias’ happy expression twist with panic. She sees him shout her name even if she doesn’t hear it. Her whole world tips on its axis as everything goes dark.