#rookidee

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 as he's knocked out. 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.