Pokemon

to preface for context purposes, 'burr' is the team's trainer. all of burr's team was caught or gained in orre, the region to the far west of unova.

demo (short for 'demolition derby') snuck into burr's bag when he was a teeny-tiny tympole looking to become bigger and better through battle (and maybe not eaten by his brethren). he's mellowed out to become a gentle giant, doing things here and there around his trainer's home like gathering weeds, making dams, or just plugging up things with mud. he doesn't really talk; he lets his body do the talking for him. it makes him the quietest member of the team as well as the most well-behaved despite his brutish exterior.

to preface for context purposes, 'burr' is the team's trainer. all of burr's team was caught or gained in orre, the region to the far west of unova.

if you've never played the pokemon colosseum games, 'shadow pokemon' are essentially pokemon that have been intentionally altered to have no emotions, making them soulless fighting machines. shadow pokemon can be turned back to normal, but it takes a lot of love and care... and patience.

scout's up first. in my version of orre, stoutlands are kinda like wild desert dogs that guide lost people to water or shelter. scout used to be a cattle-herding dog, but his trainer abandoned him in favor of taking on a shadow pokemon instead. burr ended up finding him in the open desert and the two have just remained together ever since. scout's pretty much the dad of the group. he's a tired old man that just wants to chase wild cacturnes and take naps. he battles from time-to-time but he's mostly in the party to keep an eye on his trainer and to keep the other members in line.

"Why? How?! I've devoted myself to Arceus beyond any other! I worshiped Them as the creator of our entire world! I bent all of my passion and interest to Their study! All the time I've spent poring over the legends... Everything that I've done—! You outsider! It's almost as if you were spat out of the space-time rift just to get in my way!"

Akari recalled Volo’s stinging words of unadulterated hatred toward her, struggling to catch her breath, watching as her Decidueye crumpled to the pavement, retreating to its pokéball. Her throat burned and her eyes watered. Is that what you really think of me? What you always thought? Was I always just a pawn to you?

Across the temple courtyard stood Volo who looked just as exhausted as Akari, if not even more so, the fringes of his archaic worship tunic and gown burned and torn from their ferocious battle and of his loss. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her for the length of their two battles, keeping his burning stare on her even after Giratina had fled to crawl into the shadows of the temple ruins.

Akari was the one to break the silence. “You were using me… for your own gain? This whole time…?” Tears welled in her eyes. She wiped them away with her sleeves only for more to come, staining her red face. “All this time? All those days? I thought you were my friend!” She stumbled forward, exhaustion making her dizzy, using a nearby broken pillar to lean against. It was just the two of them up high. With no more pokémon to count on, Akari could only stare at the man who she’d once considered her bestest friend in all of Hisui. 

Volo, who had been with her since day one. Volo, who’d been reliable and kind and selfless with both his time and supplies. Volo, who always had words of encouragement for her. Who’d always been right behind her to catch her and be her safety net. Volo, who had listened to her talks of going home and her dreams about what lay beyond Hisui. Only to realize that she’d effectively been led to the temple to do the man’s bidding like a pawn in a game of chess. Left to suffer the scars from battling Palkia and Dialga. Left to do all the heavy lifting just to be cast away when she was no longer of use. The sting of such utter betrayal left her sobbing, unable to bear even looking at her supposed ‘friend’ any longer. 

"...How?” Volo’s voice was barely a whisper. “How could this happen?” Illuminated by the light of a new rising sun, his hands balled into fists, he too turned his gaze away to glare at the cracked stones underfoot. His single visible eye was glossy. “Almighty Arceus…” His voice trailed off, but Akari managed to catch the last few uttered words. “What is it, then, that you find so lacking in me?"

Lacking? Akari took another step forward. And then another. And another until her legs found the strength to carry her forward until she was only a foot away from Volo. Until she could look him in the eye, her lips wobbling, reaching forward to grab the man by the collar of his tunic and pull him down to look her in the eye. “All of this… for Arceus? You used me to get to Arceus? The plates? The frenzies? You caused the rift?” Even with the proof laid out before her—even with Volo having already told her the ultimate truth flatly to her face—she still could not believe that her dearest friend had been the sole reason for her being brought to Hisui. “...You did this?”

Anger sparked in Volo’s eye. So too did a myriad of other things that Akari recognized. Hatred. Bitterness. Jealousy. Agony. Volo trembled, more so as he reached forward to seize Akari by her scarf.

“Even if you don’t wish to battle me, I’m not above using force to take those plates from you.” 

Just the memory of those words sickened Akari. Is this the part where you use force? “Arceus isn’t here,” Akari spat instead, reaching into her satchel to retrieve the seventeen sacred plates only to toss them to the ground. “Still want them? Take them then since they mean so much to you. I can’t believe I actually thought you were my friend,” Akari croaked. “I never thought that, of all the people that I’ve met here, that you would be the last person to betray me… like this.” She wiped the fresh tears from her eyes but it was no use. Snot dripped from her nose. Her own tears turned her vision blurry. Akari felt as though she could hardly breathe. “I was happy to gather the plates for you… I would’ve helped you if you would’ve just told me the truth from the get-go… You couldn’t even just trust me with that, could you? You used me.” And you were happy to do it.

Volo’s grip on Akari’s scarf only tightened. He didn’t so much as look at the scuffed artifacts. “So I did. So I was.”

“You lied to me.”

“I did.”

“Well? Go on. Take them. Summon Arceus. We could’ve just met Arceus together… but I guess I’m not worthy enough in your eyes.” Akari swallowed past the lump in her throat and let go of Volo’s collar, too exhausted and too grief-stricken to even bother feigning rage. Hearing Volo’s admission had been equivalent to having her heart ripped right out of her chest. Friends don’t stab each other in the back. “I’m just Arceus’ errand girl, right?” she joked weakly. “You always did like to call me that…”

Seeing her retreating hand, Volo hesitated. He then sneered. “That’s not… that’s not what I said. I worded myself incorrectly. You don’t understand, my dear. I’ve spent my whole life trying to appease Them! Trying to learn more about Them so that I can make this world anew! My goal was righteous!” His fury then quickly morphed into quiet sorrow when his eye trailed from the brilliant skies above to Akari’s face. Whatever visage he’d seen faded to be replaced with horror and guilt. “Is it such a terrible thing to desire a life softer and kinder than the one we live in? Am I terrible for wishing that things didn’t have to come to this?”

“...You dragged me here and made my life terrible,” Akari muttered, feeling Volo’s grip in her tunic lessen ever so slightly. “What did I ever do to you? What right do you have to take everything away from me?” 

“Akari- ”

“Did I do something wrong? Did I do something to hurt you? Do I deserve to be erased?”

Volo took a deep, shuddering breath. “...It was never my intention to bring you here,” he uttered. “If Arceus would have simply appeared when I had tried to summon him the first time, then you would’ve never been brought here! You’d would’ve been safe! I didn’t drag you here! That was Arceus’ doing!”

Wrong. I wouldn’t even exist if you did manage to beat Arceus, but this is still all your fault. Akari felt the very last of her tears dry up, leaving her feeling hollow. If Arceus had taken her memories of her home, then Volo had taken her will to fight. She still felt his grip on her tunic. Is this the part where you use force?

“Akari.”

“What?”

Volo let go of her. And then, he picked up the plates and tucked them under his arm. He took one out of his own bag, one as dark as night, and set it atop the stack. "Here. Take it... Take the plate that started me on this path—the plate I once received from Giratina. Take them. They’re yours." He then passed her by but not before setting one frighteningly gentle hand upon her head. It would’ve been nice—he’d done so plenty of times in the past when there’d been nothing but trust between them—but now Akari physically recoiled from the action. Volo didn’t turn. He didn’t slow down, either. He simply walked toward the opening of the destroyed temple gates without another word.

“Wait… Wait!” I’m not done with you! Get back here! “Where’re you going?” Come back.

“I… You won our battle fair and square,” Volo told her quietly. “You should be the one to summon Them.”

“You… you won’t stay and watch?” Despite it all, she couldn’t bear the idea of watching him leave her. Her first friend. Her closest companion, closer than even her own pokémon. Family, almost. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To meet Arceus?”

It was the last thing Rei wanted to be doing. He swallowed, eyeing the busy dirt road and so too the watching Starlies perched above as he and Yuki stepped out of the headquarters building. As he watched his friend pass him and take the lead toward the separate row of corps housing a ways away, he couldn’t help but feel a smidgen deceitful. Rain fell in lazy curtains. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Dude, we literally have permission from Captain Cyllene to break in,” Yuki retorted. He nodded to the guard keeping watch by the low gate and beckoned Rei onward until they reached the first row of corps housing, the same unit he, Rei, and Akari resided in. “Those tools are one of a kind. It’s not our fault Akari up and disappeared into thin air. You sent her a message, and she never responded. Thus, we’re breaking in to get your tools back. If she gets mad, well, tough.”

It’d been the truth. Rei had lent Akari custom-made crafting tools passed onto him by his father when he’d been deemed masterful enough at crafting to earn them. They were one-of-a-kind heirlooms and irrevocably irreplaceable. Akari had only mentioned that she’d lost her old assigned set and had no money to acquire new ones and since he knew that Akari would need them being the chosen one of Almighty Sinnoh, he had willingly lent her the tools under strict word to return them immediately when she no longer needed them—after all, he knew from prior experience that the corps wouldn’t just give Akari new ones for free. But when Akari had failed to return them or even come back to Jubilife for four whole weeks, he’d started to grow antsy, especially given the fact that he had shelved his old set while anticipating the return of his new ones. “That’s kinda messed up, though—breaking in like this.”

“Rei, she’s been gone for a while now. I don’t think she’ll care that we’re breaking in so long as we don’t touch her stuff or take anything that’s not ours.” Yuki stepped up to Akari’s door and knocked. The eaves groaned under his weight. When there was no response, he took out a small metal key from his pocket.

“Yeah, but… We’ve never seen inside her quarters.”

“So? What, don’t tell me you’re afraid of what you might find.”

Rei grimaced. “I’m not! I’m just- “

“Goody two-shoes.”

“Quit.”

With a click and a hiss of the tracks, Yuki eased the door to Akari’s unit open, only to cough as a thick cloud of dust rolled out to greet him, settling onto the wooden steps. “Ah! There we go!” His self-satisfied smirk quickly fell. His eyes widened, and he pulled at the neck of his tunic, grimacing. “You know, I didn’t think Akari was this… messy.”

“Messy?” Rei carefully stepped around Yuki and into the unit. He immediately gagged. The first thing he’d noticed was the sickly-sweet stench of something festering somewhere. The second thing he’d noticed was the clutter. “Looks like a wild pokémon came through this place. Ew.”

Tunics. Shirts. Items with dubious origin. All compounded in methodical piles tucked flush against the walls like jagged mountain ridges. Rainwater dripped from numerous thin spots in the ceiling only to plop down in full buckets and seep onto the rotted tatami mats beneath. While Rei was grateful to notice that there was no visible mold—and isn’t that strange—the rotting smell only grew stronger the further in he wandered. Nobody’s seen Akari in weeks. He swallowed. I sure hope that smell isn’t what I think it is. He kept an eye out for the unique case his tools had been in the last he’d seen them, only to nearly trip over a bundle of clothes in the process. “So many clothes! I swear, I’ve never seen her wear even half of these!”

“Never hurts to have backup,” Yuki teased, though he looked just as disturbed at the state of disarray their friend’s living quarters had grown into.

“That’s rich coming from the guy who does his laundry once a month at the river delta. I’m surprised your room isn’t full of dirt and rocks.”

“Says the guy who spends all day rolling around in tall grass. Remind me again how you’re not infested with bugs?”

“What type?”

Yuki paused, sighed, and rolled his eyes. “I’m not answering that question, smark-alek. You’re the professor’s assistant—not me.” Yuki struggled past a warped wooden crate of potions and parchment only to bump into something. He shifted some clothing up. Squinted his eyes. “What the heck is this?” He took particular notice of a huge red object with a dull exterior, taking hold of the shiny handle and yanking on it. “H-hey! This one’s got ice inside!”

Ice? Rei came over to inspect, only to find that Yuki had been correct. “Huh. It’s just… water? And extra food. Frozen, though. Why would she freeze all of her berries in here? Seems like a waste.” He closed the door of the strange object only for his eyes to land on a small, circular object with the same dull red plating. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

“Nope. I’ll take that, though. I wanna press all the buttons and see what they do.” Yuki took the item from Rei’s hands and turned it over, pressing the small white button on the item's wide base. The strange blades within the device began to whirr as they spun faster and faster, creating a faint breeze. “Oh. O-oh! It spins air. That… that actually feels pretty nice.” Yuki then turned the object toward Rei. “Wanna feel?”

“N-no, I don’t. Okay, that’s enough. We’re looking for my tools, not snooping through Akari’s things.”

“How’re we gonna snoop if there’s stuff everywhere?” Yuki shoved aside another box of things only to pause. “Oh, wait. I can see a futon back here. Must be where she sleeps… And- gods- the smell’s even worse back here!”

“Worse? How so?” Rei poked his head into the hidden room and gagged yet again. There were a few plates of rotting food situated around an unmade futon. He struggled over to the window and shoved it open, taking the plates and their blackened contents and setting them on the outer sill. Only when the stench no longer stung his eyes did he take in the state of Akari’s room.

There was less clutter, but there were still similar messes. Stacks of papers and crates of stationery. Wrapped items on the wet windowsill. Dirty, torn, and bloodied uniforms bunched in a corner with some having their threads unravelled, others clearly snacked on by seasonal Mothims. Rei spotted old satchels with their metal connecting pieces and extra slack leather removed, spools and seam cutters spread out around them. He could understand the empty glass jars. The used mortar and pestle. The numerous mediocre pokéball lids and bottoms that sat unassembled in a different corner. The carved dolls, one of which he recognized as the exact one he’d made her long ago when he’d taught her how to use crafting tools. In Hisui, one couldn’t afford to be wasteful—tems were always worth salvaging—but what he couldn’t wrap his head around was the unit-spanning mess. She said she going somewhere, but where? It’s been two weeks and she left things this way? Lucky we only have room inspections once a month! “Yuki?”

“Yeah?”

“...Why is our friend such a slob?”

“Eh. I dunno. You go surveying with her more than I do.”

When he couldn’t spot his crafting kit in the nearby area, Rei began to check through Akari’s drawers and cabinets. More papers and ink pots. More destroyed articles of clothing. In one drawer, he found a wrapped box containing a filthy scrap of dark blue cloth and the tied-off section of a beaded necklace. In that same drawer, he found another box containing a chipped metal disk and a scrap of lavender fabric. Where’d these come from? Why’re they here?

“Anything?” Yuki called.

“No, not yet.”

“You don’t think she took the tools with her wherever she went off to?” Yuki asked. His voice softened, and he let the pile of junk he’d been holding fall to the floor. “The nobles are all taken care of now, and she’s probably not catching new pokémon for the dex. You said it yourself that the professor is finalizing the final edition of the dex, right?”

“He is. He doesn’t know where Akari went off to. Neither does the commander or Captain Cyllene. It’s like she just up and vanished.” Rei wouldn’t say it aloud but the longer he heard nothing in response, the less he cared about his tools and the more he worried about where one of his best friends had gone off to without him. She said she’d be returned back home once she was done studying every pokémon. Well, she’s finished, isn’t she? Rei let his narrowed gaze settle on the wet windowsill. She wouldn’t just say goodbye without telling us, right? …Right? “And… you haven’t heard anything yet?”

“Nope. None of the medics have passed on anything about sighting her. Nada. Zilch. Nothing. You know, the captain’s Abra can’t even find her.” Yuki picked up another trinket and studied its shiny exterior. His eyebrows knitted, and he let it drop onto a stack of paper. “...We could go and find her. Do our own investigative work since we’ve got nothing but free time on our hands.”

At that, Rei snorted. “Abra can’t even find her. What makes you think we can?”

“Well, you’ve got strong pokémon,” Yuki pointed out. “You’ve been there to help quell the nobles. And I have my partners. We could at least try.”

“File a missing person’s report.”

“Tell the Gingko Guild. They’re bound to see something.”

“Ask the wardens.” Rei felt his chest ache when he realized that the only warden he’d seen around lately was Arezu of the Diamond Clan from time to time. Warden Ingo of the Pearl Clan—usually a commanding presence by the dojo—had been cryptically absent for well over a month. He’s been gone since… since way before Akari went missing. Rei’s eyes widened. And they were super close, weren’t they? Maybe… “I think I know where Akari went off to.” And when he shared his suspicions, he found himself eased when Yuki nodded his head along.

“So we’re off to Warden Ingo’s outpost?”

“That’s the only place I can think of her going. We’re just making sure she’s okay.”

“Sure… Right.” Yuki held the door open as both of them exited Akari’s unit with nothing in tow. As he stepped off to lead them both back to the headquarters building, he hesitated for a moment. “And… what if she’s not there?”

“Then we’ll find her,” Rei asserted. “She’s one of us, remember? Akari’s family. I’m sure she’s okay. You know how she tends to spend so much time away from Jubilife. She’s fine. But… let’s just go check to make sure. Can’t hurt to look, right?”

Wisps of snow fell over the courtyard. Zisu was careful not to bump into the rack of tools by the dojo doors as she poked her head out to observe the coming storm. Sheesh. She immediately spun back around, hefted a bag of salt out from the dojo basement, and carried it out onto the porch, shivering as the cold air pierced through her clothes. No doubt, if the commander doesn’t ask me to do it now, he’ll have me wake up in the dead of night to do it later. She grabbed a pair of shears off the tool rack as she passed it by again and used it to slit the top of the bag open.

With the sky awash in a thin layer of rosy pink and red clouds, Zisu could tell that evening had come. And with it came the surge of returning scouts clattering up the main road. Maybe a few of them will be up for a fight or two. Could use some excitement, what with all the maintenance I’ve had to do fixing up the dojo. Ugh. I should take care of this now before some of them try to call out for bumps and bruises in the morning. She had grabbed a shovel to start clearing the courtyard only to pause: somebody was still there.

“Oh! Hey, Warden Ingo! You’re here early!”

The man didn’t respond. Turned to face the gates of Jubilife, Ingo stood quietly next to a section of the courtyard that’d been tossed and turned over from battle, tiny impact craters, footprints, and scorch marks dotting the sands. Even as Zisu approached, Ingo didn’t so much as twitch a muscle at her, instead gazing calmly at the clouds.

“Iggs?” Zisu gently placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder to try to rouse him. That’d done the trick. Ingo flinched at her touch. “You good?” she asked him. “You’re just kinda… standing around like a moonstruck Paras. It’s kinda freaky.”

“...I beg your pardon?”

Without his usual pokémon accompanying him, Zisu always thought that Ingo looked rather small. With his tattered clothes and aimless disposition, especially now, alone on the courtyard before the lanterns had been lit, he reminded her of a lost Drifloon set adrift across the fieldlands. She noticed the distinct lack of light in the man’s eyes. I can change that. “Hey, you up for a battle?” She’d expected the man’s immediate agreement and perhaps a few jeers in her direction. What she hadn’t expected was the blank stare she’d gotten in return. “Go-go?” There was no appetite for battle or banter that Zisu saw; just a deadening calm. A sad glint in his eyes. A deeper slump in his shoulders, even. She shivered. “You- oh, right. I mean- hold on. What I meant to say is that you look… sick. Or just sad? What happened? Did you lose? Is that why you look so gloomy?”

For his part, Ingo snorted and turned to stare after what he’d been looking at in the first place: Akari. The teenager was only just disappearing behind the double doors leading into the Galaxy Team headquarters building. “Captain Zisu, that is merely my resting facial expression. I can assure you that my engine is in tip-top shape.” He set a gentle hand upon Zisu’s shoulder. “No need to worry about any maintenance issues on my end.”

“...Right.” Zisu heard how hoarse her dear friend’s words had sounded. Something’s wrong. “You sure you’re not coming down with something?” she asked instead. “You were chatting up a storm with those new merchants from overseas a few days ago.” Maybe that’s why you sound so faint. Maybe you caught something from them. Maybe I’m just blowing things out of proportion.

“Well, you see, they were regaling me with tales of pokémon from abroad—pokémon that are, of course, not native to Hisui.”

“Yeah, yeah. Battling is your passion, I know,” Zisu playfully mocked him, nudging him with an elbow. That’s better. The weight on her chest eased. “I take it you just battled Akari? D’you lose or something?”

“It would seem so,” Ingo retorted, rolling his eyes as he held up his pokéball belt. All of his partners dozed in their respective capsules. A wistful look came over the man. “As a matter of fact, today was our very last sparring match—the ones I had planned to bring out the potential of certain wild pokémon.”

“The ones that the professor said would help with collecting data?”

“The very same ones, yes.”

Zisu shot her friend another look. If she liked battling, then Ingo was an absolute fiend for the topic. She’d never been able to best him in the few years she’d known him, but she had become his friend through learning about pokémon from him. The security corps had grown so skillful with pokémon because of the man. To hear Ingo sound so resigned to losing- to sound so utterly exhausted… He’s never a sore loser. That’s one of the things I like most about him. But hearing him sound so done, it’s just… odd. “Your trials- “

“Paths of Solitude, yes,” he corrected her. At the raise of her eyebrows, Ingo stifled a laugh. “Those. What about them?”

“You finished all of them? Aren’t there like a bajillion pokémon to collect information for? No way are you two done.”

Ingo let out a deep, shaky sigh. “It seems preposterous, but alas, yes, every entry in the testable dex has been completed. Sir Laventon gave me a set list of promising pokémon to test first—the rest were simply additions. I shared your same skepticism when Rei of all scouts insisted that we comb through every pokémon here in the Hisui region. But I stand corrected.” He snorted. “Stood corrected, I should say. Akari has already succeeded in punching every last ticket. I dare say, she has forged a much greater understanding of her own capabilities as a trainer alongside the companionship and skill of her many pokémon partners. Truly, it is ever a pleasure to encourage such growth.” His voice quieted down to a near whisper, so soft that Zisu had to strain to hear him. “She will make a fine and capable battler some day, I am most sure of it.”

Why’s he so quiet today? “Isn’t she already a capable pokémon wielder?” Zisu tried. “Aren’t wielders and trainers the same thing?”

Ingo studied the busted lapels of his jacket. “Ah… No.” His smile disappeared.”Or at least, I don’t believe so.”

And for another few moments, the two stood together in a comfortable silence, watching as small snowflakes began to fall from the heavens. Zisu held out her hand to collect the small particles, trying her best not to notice that Ingo had begun wheezing. He’s sick. That’s what’s wrong. That has to be it. Or maybe he’s just sad that his challenges with Akari are over. She took hold of Ingo’s arm and began to pull him along toward the headquarters building. “Yeah, you’re coming down with something. Let’s get you to Pesselle.”

Ingo firmly held his position, pulling back despite Zisu’s protest. “I am fine, but thank you for your kind concerns.”

Zisu only stared at him. Something is definitely wrong here. “Well, you know, I do have a right to be concerned about you. My scouts love rocking up against your tough teams, and so do I. They practically consider you family at this point. What type of captain would I be if I didn’t keep an eye on you?”

“One who is not a workaholic.”

“Oh, hardy-har-har. Real clever, Iggs.” She saw the edges of a smile returning to her friend’s face. There he is. But if he’s not gonna go see Peselle… “The sky’s getting dark. Do you wanna stay here in the village for the night? I’m sure the commander won’t mind.”

Ingo shook his head. “Alas, I have other safety checks I must perform before I turn in for the evening, and that requires making a mandatory stop at my home station in the Coronet Highlands. Thank you very much for the offer, captain, but I should be taking my leave now.” And with a nod of his head, Ingo continued past her down the steps leading toward the dirt road making up the main street of Jubilife Village.

Something’s really wrong. You don’t have safety checks anymore. You’re not even a warden now. Despite it, she still often referred to him by his stripped title. Irida of the Pearl Clan let Ingo do as he pleased now that the Sneasler lineage had a new warden and a new heir. Ingo had effectively retired. So what’re you in a hurry to leave for? Zisu scrambled to catch up with him. “Want some food to take with you along the way?”

“Who do you take me for? A stray pokémon?”

“It’ll be my treat.”

“That won’t sway me.”

“No? But I heard Beni is making cutlets tonight.” It’d been Zisu’s last resort. A dirty lie, but a valid trump card nonetheless. She could only hide her snickers of amusement when it’d worked, watching as Ingo just as smoothly turned back around on his heels to join her. Hook, line, and sinker.

“I suppose if you’re offering…”

With some mild convincing, she’d kept her friend until the last dregs of sunset left the sky, hoping that the wild Hisuian darkness would convince Ingo to stay until morning. She wasn’t sure why, but she had the distinct feeling that something bad would happen if she let her friend disappear out of sight. She wrapped up the bill, and the two left The Wallflower.

It hadn’t worked. Despite her needling, Zisu could only follow along as Ingo doggedly set his pace on the road leading back toward the wooden gates to Jubilife. On any other night, she would’ve paid him no mind. Maybe sent him off with a roll of her eyes and a mental note to expect him a day later or so. But never before had she felt such dread upon the simple prospect of saying goodbye to her friend and wishing him a safe trip. “And you’re sure you don’t wanna just stay overnight?”

“I’m quite sure. My co-conductors are in need of refueling, and there are errands we must complete before our tracks lead us here to Jubilife again. Surely you must understand?”

“I do, definitely! It’s just… You’re sure? I get the feeling it’s gonna snow really bad tonight,” she lied. “Just say the word, and I can find you some lodging.” Zisu looked out over the brand-new living quarters the construction corps had built. They were small but comfortable. Cheap, too. She was sure that the commander wouldn’t have a problem loaning out one of them to the man who’d helped quell Hisui’s nobles and keep the peace… only to notice seconds later that Ingo hadn’t followed along after her. She turned, catching him looking in the direction of the southern gate where she knew the pokémon pastures were. “…Ingo? What are you looking at?”

Ingo stirred briefly. He frowned and rubbed at his wrist; a wrist devoid of a certain wooden bracelet. He caught Zisu’s gaze and motioned her onward. “Just a few wandering pokémon in the fields that caught my eye,” he rasped. “Nothing more. What were you saying?”

“No nerding out about wild pokémon with Professor Laventon?”

Ingo’s frown grew sharper. He sighed, the hand on Zisu’s back more insistent, moving to push her toward the gates. “Zisu…“

“Or what about the agriculture corps? You mentioned asking about a berry harvest the last time you were here.”

“Captain- “

“Plus, it’s already snowing!” Zisu pointed out, inadvertently placing herself in front of Ingo like a barricade. Her hands locked around his forearms, one on each, preventing him from taking another step forward. “You won’t get home until- “

“Captain Zisu!” Ingo’s boisterous voice split the silence and scared a flock of Starlies into the air. As he noticed, his cheeks tinged a light shade of red. “Ahem. My apologies. I did not mean to raise my voice to such a level… Captain, while I appreciate your concerns regarding my wellbeing, it is simply time for me to return to where I belong,” he told her softly. “It is the same as our usual routine on the many occasions where I park my cab at this station. I do enjoy the familiarity of Jubilife Village,” Ingo told her, “but this place is not my home station. I must be going now.”

Going? Going where? It’s already dark out. Zisu swallowed. “Right. Y-yeah… No, you’re right. Sorry, Ingo.”

For a moment, Ingo hesitated. “Is everything- “

“You take care, okay?” Where the words had come from, Zisu couldn’t tell, but she did know that they stung like fire coming from her mouth. She remembered the countless times she’d walked Ingo to the gates, but not a single one of them had hurt quite like that evening. He looks sick! He’s acting strange! And why am I so worried about it, anyways? “Get home safely.”

Ingo’s gaze brightened with a newfound vigor. He nodded. Tipped his cap at her. And then he smiled in a way that made him glow brighter than even the scant stars peeking out from behind the cloud cover. “Of course! And don’t neglect your own engine in my absence! Farewell, Captain Zisu! Until we next meet!”

Silence. Volo watched with bated breath, his hands twitching, barely registering the sharper winds nor the way the monstrous rift above seemed to grow wider for every second that passed, bathing the summit in hellish white light. He didn’t feel the biting cold winds. He didn’t feel the snowmelt seeping into his boots. He only watched on from afar as Akari- a faraway shape so impossibly small and so fragile- moved up the many steps to the Temple of Sinnoh, alone.

Around him stood the leaders of Hisui. Kamado of the Galaxy Team in his steel-plate armor, his head bowed and lips quivering. Irida of the Pearl Clan and Adaman of the Diamond clan both clustered together, their brows furrowed and their mouths pulled into angry grimaces. All of them watched on in similar silence. All of them had come to see the champion of Almighty Sinnoh carry out their true purpose: getting rid of the rift.

Akari was going to leash a god.

And Volo? He stood and he watched. He’d come along for encouragement as well. He had promised to be there and support his younger charge, and he did indeed watch with wide eyes as Akari moved up the hundreds of stone steps, past destroyed statues and decayed pillars, trailing along a length of stones that glowed red hot just like the sky. That same chain of stones contained the power of long-diminished legendary pokémon. Lesser gods but gods nevertheless. Volo could almost laugh at how absurd the concept was, likening it to a child affixing a rambunctious pet to straw-thin twine. But his humor at the situation from hours before had died somewhere along the dangerous trek up to the mountain’s summit and as he stared at the empty temple and so too at the sea of broken stone walls and ruins around it, he felt his mouth turn dry. He felt his heart beat frantically in his chest. Something acrid welled up in the back of his throat.

Akari was going to leash a god.

And it would be a god to appear, that Volo knew for certain if the metallic taste in his mouth and his trembling hands were enough to go off of. Akari was going to tame the same god that Volo and Giratina had torn open the sky on purpose so long ago to summon. It’d been a trick that had been meant to grab Almighty Sinnoh’s attention. Something to force the absentee, all-powerful creator to revisit Their creations- to fix what They had broken and had left to rot. It’d been a trick to snare Them in a trap and for Volo and Giratina to take over and create the world anew. They had planned to create a kinder, more forgiving world without pain or tragedy or loss. And it had royally backfired.

Instead, Almighty Sinnoh or perhaps some force even Volo wasn’t privy to had decided to spit directly in his face by bringing forth somebody to stand directly in his way: another pokémon wielder. A young girl. An innocent teenager with missing memories, a kind disposition, and a soft, malleable heart. Someone who Volo found to be frighteningly human. Someone whom Volo despised with every breath of his being. And now Volo couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe, even—as he watched Akari ascend the stairs to fight legendary beings that Volo had only ever heard folk tales about.

Akari was going to leash a god.

Every fiber in Volo’s body told him to ditch the spectacle and flee. Every sinew of muscle that twitched in his arms and legs and every cell in his body begged and pleaded and screamed for him to abandon the mountain and hide in the deepest depths of the earth as if Almighty Sinnoh were looking upon the spectacle as well. As if They were looking down upon him to find and crush him like a minuscule ant. Volo couldn’t feel Giratina’s presence lurking in his shadow, and that revelation spooked him worse than the weeping rift or the blood-red skies. If his own patron god had abandoned him… He felt himself instinctively take a step back. Sweat beaded on his brow. He swallowed back the bile that’d begun to seep onto his tongue.

A year Volo had spent gaining Akari’s trust only to use her as a beacon to summon Almighty Sinnoh. Lying to her. Smoothly guiding her along the motions of keeping an eye on the plates lent only to wardens and their noble pokémon. A year Volo had spent getting to know her, getting Akari to naively trust him and to accept his kind words and his endless showering of gifts upon her. Volo had spent countless days befriending Akari’s pokémon, gaining their trust as well to negate any possible resistance. He’d learned their weaknesses- learned their capabilities, too. He’d sat through hours of talking. Hours of hearing Akari’s sunny talks of the future and her hopes and dreams. Hours of wondering if her family was waiting for her on the other side of the universe. If her friends were waiting for her. If anybody had noticed that she’d gone missing. Volo had taken Akari in when she’d been thrown out of Jubilife. He’d been there for her when others hadn’t. He’d been at Akari’s side since day one. Always keeping an eye on her. Always waiting patiently in the background with the ulterior motive of using her to do his bidding, knowing well that if he played his cards right, Akari wouldn’t put up a fight when the time came to pull the wool off of her eyes. The bountiful fruit of Volo’s labor had been placed right at his feet, ready for harvest, and he felt as though he were going to vomit.

Akari was going to leash a god.

The light of the rift cut bright ribbons across his face, temporarily blinding him. He’d spent many a day staring at the rift, dreaming of this day… only for his flesh and bones to disobey him at the last moment, too scared to approach the house of his real god. Too scared to get rid of his only competition, the one thing barring him from calling Almighty Sinnoh down to heel. And when the light from the rift shifted off of him, Volo found that Akari had already disappeared into the shadows of the temple alone.

The Ancient Celestican Civilization had disappeared a long, long time ago. It’d been snuffed out with no witnesses. No surviving historians. All that remained, broken and bare up high where the air was so thin that it hurt to breathe and where living things did not decay, were their sun-bleached buildings, shattered pottery, and personal belongings, all left behind, seemingly done so in a hurry. Volo knew that better than anybody. He knew how the story went. He knew how it was often told from parents to their children as a precautionary tale. And as he took another step back, his throat tightening with fear, he connected the dots.