The Sacred Temple, The Kingdom of Alph, February 7th, 5 A.W.

A melodic drone filled the skies of the night. A hymn of chimes and static, giving praise to that which creates and destroys. The song extended across the meadow, the radiant flowers swaying in tandem, dancing in the moonlight. The song created by the earth and sky was that of adoration in duress, that of perseverance in anguish.

It was hallowed ground.

It was hollowed ground.

Maikeru rode along the path, heading deeper within the temple, within the tomb. Rafaeru shivered lightly from the cold, despite the embers flickering from his mane.

Though they moved along a place of worship, the silence surrounding them was deafening to the soul. Maikeru could feel the waning spirit of the temple, could see it withering as fewer devotees graced its halls with their presence.

Though, for all that Maikeru heard the pleas of the temple, he understood its abandonment.

It was hallowed ground.

It was hollowed ground.

It was dead, or dying.

There wasn’t much of a difference.

Not anymore.

Maikeru could recall a time, not too long ago, when gaining passage to the Sacred Temple would have taken months of negotiation. For all that Azazeru had boasted of his charisma, it meant little when faced with the leaders of the Kingdom of Alph.

Maikeru couldn’t help but see the bitter irony in that. Not even a decade later, and Azazeru had the Kingdom of Alph eating out of his palm along with the other kingdoms of his ‘coalition’.

Maikeru violently shook the thought away. After a moment of bringing himself back to the present, he realised that Rafaeru must’ve felt it, since the Rapidash had halted to stare at him in worry.

Maikeru gave a shaky smile, “It’s nothing Raf. I’m just reminiscing, that is all.”

Rafaeru gave a doubtful snort, though he began to trot once more. Maikeru smiled, knowing that the Rapidash knew more than he let on.

Az always said that the horse had fae blood in him.

Maikeru felt the glistening of tears in his eyes, and didn’t do anything to stop them. Even after five years, just thinking about his brother in all but blood reopened old wounds.

Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer before the two of them made their way to their destination. The maze-like architecture of the temple always made it difficult to traverse; though, unlike his last time visiting the temple, he had a greater sense of where exactly he wanted to be.

Though, in no world would he ever say that was a good thing.

Not when the price for this leisure had been so bloody to pay.

Maikeru dismounted his steed, kissing the horse on the neck, “Stay here, Raf. I won’t be long.”

Maikeru smiled softly as Rafaeru gave him a dry look, somehow conveying his intense doubt with nothing but his eyes.

In the end, instead of wasting time as he normally would have in a fruitless argument with the horse, Maikeru just shook his head before ducking into the chamber.

There was a downward tunnel heading to his quarry, which quickly grew dark the deeper Maikeru travelled. Before long, it grew dark enough that he could only just see the outline of his hand in front of him, though he felt no worry from this, instead following the tug on his spirit that had led him here in the first place.

As he stepped closer to the chamber, the drone in his ears grew to an ordered cacophony, a warcry for the fallen, an eulogy for the living.

In the back of his mind, he could hear Az whisper in a laugh.

How terribly beautiful.

Maikeru emerged from the tunnel, holding out a hand to allow his eyes time to readjust.

The torches lining the walls of the chamber were lit with a soft blue flame. Though they didn’t flicker bright, they still held the power to blind those who had not been blessed with vision .

Maikeru distantly wondered if he could consider himself lucky for holding such a gift. Before the Jigoku War - as the bards were calling it now - there were easily dozens, perhaps hundreds, of those who had been blessed.

They were all dead now. Purged in the same way that those who gave the blessings had been. Maikeru suspected this was a large reason why the Kingdom of Alph allowed him to travel within their holy ground in the first place, given that the only two with vision remaining were himself… and Az .

And, if nothing else, Maikeru could rest knowing that his former mentor wouldn’t dare step on holy ground, lest he further incur the wrath of the Creator.

He also supposed that the Kingdom of Alph felt pressured to allow him access, given both his international ‘status’ and their involvement in the War.

After all, every year more and more provinces across their vast empire were raising up arms to rebel.

Though he felt no real attachment to the Kingdom, he was weary of the prospect of more war.

But, then again, perhaps this is just another act in the never-ending war.

Static began to fill his ears, bringing him back to his surroundings. Within the dimly lit chamber, vague shapes and shadows began to dance about, each adding their own note to the growing hymn.

Maikeru felt a long-dead, yet familiar pressure creep into his skull. He brought a hand to his head, hissing at the sudden migraine he received as an always-familiar, once-beloved veil parted about his spirit.

But, oh, he had seen past the veil.

A chrysalis formed and pierced that which was never meant to be broken.

They had seen what lay beyond.

It had driven Azazeru Mad.

It was beginning to drive him Mad, too.

As Maikeru contended with the pressure on his spirit, the shadowed forms came to the light, surrounding him. The pale blue light reflected off the beings’ form, giving the illusion of them being in far greater number than they truly were.

After all, during the War, these beings had very nearly gone extinct.

Maikeru’s mouth pursed as he locked eyes with the alphabet of Unown. Their many eyes remained unblinking, unchanging, unassailable even in the face of their own destruction.

Yet, Maikeru knew that, even past their expressionless forms, they comprehended in full the horror that befell them.

And they accepted it.

It was the Will of the Creator, after all.

The static in Maikeru’s ears increased in volume, yet it smoothed, breaking apart in methodic increments that most beings would find incomprehensible.

However, Maikeru had learned years ago, when he and Azazeru first encountered the beings, that they could understand when none else could.

After all, they were both of the Chosen.

‘MAIKERU COGITA. HE OF DIVINE RETRIBUTION. CHOSEN OF THE CREATOR.’ The Unowns’ ‘voice’ blasted in Maikeru’s ears as a mere whisper, devoid of inflection, ‘THY COME SEEKING AID.’

They always knew what he needed.

It was their purpose, after all.

Indeed, before the War, when Unown could be found in every place of worship, they provided a purpose beyond guarding those sacred grounds. Across generations, as those Chosen by the Creator travelled and learned, they communed with the Unown and stored their experiences for future Chosens to learn from.

It only made the genocide waged against them all the more terrible.

Despite the pool of dread that he felt whenever he interacted with these beings, Maikeru steadily responded, “I come to deposit knowledge, and so that I may forget what I share once I leave this holy ground.”

The Unowns shift, shuffling together faster than the eye could see, before resounding, ‘WHAT KNOWLEDGE DOES THINE SEEK TO DEPOSIT.’

Maikeru couldn’t help the gulp that came in his mouth - yet, it did nothing to make his mouth any less dry - “I - I come bearing knowledge of the veil,” As he began to speak, the words came out in a greater rush, “I come bearing knowledge of the truth, what lay past the veil. I come bearing knowledge of the veil and how it was damaged, how it was split,” I heaved in a breath, knowing that what he spoke of directly led to the nigh-extinction of the Unown, “I come bearing knowledge of the Ultimate Weapon. Where it is, how to activate it, how to deactivate it,” He breathed out a harsh sob, “How to destroy it…” His sobs broke into Mad laughter, “Please. Please! I need it out of my head! PLEASE!”

‘THINE WORD IS OUR COMMAND. THY HOLD THE WILL OF THE CREATOR.’ The formless mass of Unown became still - entirely unmoving - and, in unison, they blinked, ‘BEGINNING EXTRACTION.’

And - as always - Maikeru had naught a second to blink before collapsing, eyes widening shut as harsh static light shadows spirals storms turned back the clock of his mind his soul and reacheddddd-

The last meeting of enemies once friends.

One holds the Key, the Other holds the Secret.

They stand in the ashes of Their wrath.

One shall live a full life, the Other shall persist, an unrelenting husk.

The tides of war wane, the mountain of corpses reach its peak.

A price so terrible that few comprehend it; more than men are buried.

The clouds part, the Creator’s light befalls the earth, overwhelming in its rage.

The Veil splits; one half holds on, the other drifts away.

Gaze upon the end of days, and weep for mercy, and pray for death.

For the Ultimate Weapon has wrought its devastation, Beautiful in Destruction, Terrible in Creation.

Turn thine eyes to the chrysalis above, the folly of man gone Mad, and those who followed.

Close thine eyes and weep, for thy own folly is denying your duty.

Search your heart for the answer of truth, and pray that you never find it.

One has already fallen into Madness from it; do not follow into the abyss.

All around thee, the world crumbles as war is waged for the sake of war.

All around thee, the world falls deeper and deeper to a pit it shall never recover.

“GO FORTH”

The earth shakes from the proclamation.

Your duty is given, ever beautiful, ever terrible.

“GO FORTH”

The one before thee has fallen.

And with him, the earth shall follow.

“GO FORTH”

“GO FORTH, MY CHARIOT”

“MY CHOSEN”

“MY KIN”

All around thee is

L I G H T

Twin suns of crimson bore upon thee

The Creator casts its Judgement upon thee

And finds it wanting

“THINE FOREBEAR HAS DENIED CREATION”

“IN HIS PATH LAYS THE RUIN OF MADNESS”

“GO FORTH, MY CHARIOT”

“MY CHOSEN”

“MY WILL”

“GO FORTH, AND CONQUER”

go forth, and

f o r g e t

Maikeru’s eyes snapped open, and immediately closed, pulsating as the world around him stilled in its spiral, in its descent.

Maikeru opened his eyes once more, blinded for a moment by the darkness - by the light - before seeing once more.

Maikeru breathed, slow and deep, feeling the everpresent pit in his stomach lessen, and disappear. He closed his eyes once more and cast his mind back, searching, searching, searching for his personal nightmare, his end of days.

He found none.

‘EXTRACTION COMPLETE,’ Maikeru snapped his eyes open at the proclamation, eyeing the Unown as they shifted together, slower and more languid, before becoming still, ‘ERROR.’

Maikeru jolted in surprise - and no small amount of dread - as the Unown began to spin faster, faster, faster, faster, ‘ERROR - DATA CORRUPTION HAS BEEN DETECTED - ERROR - DATA CORRUPTION HAS BEEN DETECTED - ERROR - DATA CORRUPTION HAS BEEN DETECTEDDDDDDDDDDDDDD-’

All at once, the voice in Maikeru’s mind stopped, leaving only silence. The eyes of the Unown still stared, unblinking, though their glow dimmed.

After several seconds of stilted breathes, one of the Unown shook, its eye becoming unstable, ‘BACK-UP SYSTEMS DETECTED - BACK-UP SYSTEMS COMPATIBLE WITH DATA - DATA CORRUPTION HAS BEEN DETECTED - BACK-UP SYSTEMS RISK 99.9999% CHANCE OF CORRUPTION - DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE?’

Maikeru didn’t respond immediately, instead processing that whatever knowledge he once held - for he no longer bore it - had been corrupted , “What’s… Are you in danger?”

The singular Unown - for the rest were all but dead - gave a single, slow blink, ‘WE WERE MADE TO SERVE. CORRUPTION WILL DECREASE OUR MENTAL FACULTIES BY 89.32% OVER THE COURSE OF THE NEXT 1,000 STANDARD YEARS. IF OUR KNOWLEDGE IS RECOVERED AFTER THAT TIME WE WILL UNDERGO SELF-TERMINATION TO PREVENT THE SPREAD OF CORRUPTION.’

“What? No! ” Maikeru yelled out, aghast at the thought of sacrificing them with his knowledge, “I wouldn’t have given you my knowledge if I knew it would kill you!”

‘WE WERE MADE TO SERVE,’ The Unown intoned once more, its tone unchanging, ‘THE CORRUPTED DATA WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU WITHIN 5 STANDARD YEARS,’ The Unown blinked once more - and for all that it couldn’t show emotion, it looked terribly final - ‘YOUR LIFE BEARS GREATER IMPORTANCE TO THE PLAN. WE WERE MADE TO SERVE.’

Before Maikeru could do anything to stop it, to turn back the clock and recover his knowledge - his sentence of death - the Unown resounded, ‘DATA UPLOAD COMPLETE - WARNING: CORRUPTION DETECTED - PROTOCOL: HIBERNATION - ENGAGED.’

Though Maikeru’s objections grew louder and louder, the Unown paid no heed to them, instead stating these words as a death knell. The chimes surrounding the chamber tolled one final, beautiful, terrible time, before becoming silent as the wind.

And at the last chime, the Unown stilled, eyes straight ahead like that of a corpse.

Yet, for all that he hated it, Maikeru knew that they were not dead. They would be lucky if they were . He knew that behind their blank stares were the vestiges of consciousness. Just enough to be aware, but not to move, to speak, to act.

And, though they tried to soothe him, stating that it was their duty to bear his burden, his knowledge, his Madness, it did not remove the guilt he felt when he laid eyes upon them.

They were already so few, dying out slowly. Yet here he is, having practically wiped out a whole group of them.

Selfish.

Cruel.

Maikeru’s face twisted, faceless memories of those lost in the never-ending war.

So many had died because of him.

And now…

Now, he added more to the list.

Shadowed shapes drifted into the chamber from behind him, a small, almost inaudible hymn trailing behind.

The last remaining Unown of the Temple, those that had stayed outside as Maikeru doomed their brethren, surrounded that which had wrought death to their species.

And, though they knew what he had done, what he had wrought against their own…

They accepted it. They accepted him.

They were made to serve, after all.

And his life bore greater importance to the plan of the Creator.

Maikeru felt tears trickle down his cheek, though he didn’t weep for long. He had few tears to shed after the war. He mourned for no longer than half a minute, eyes becoming dry, becoming distant , immediately after.

After all, there was nothing to be done for their sacrifice.

And he had his part to play.

They all did.

So, casting one final look to the chamber - a place to which he would never return - he whispered in the tongue of his clan, giving prayer for those he had doomed, “ Ay Shie de Rite-Maehs, de Beh en La Re-Char-Adon. ”

The few Unown that were awake paused at his prayer, before humming a low, droning tone. It took a few moments for Maikeru to understand, and subsequently flee.

Because, for all that Unown were made to be emotionless.

They trilled the chimes of mourning.

And for beings created immortal as they?

They would hold their grief for many lifetimes after his death.

…

Route 32, November 18th, 1997

“Charmander, Dragon Rage to keep them at bay. Froakie, draw upon Charmander’s tail flame for Scald .”

Red smiled a touch grimly as his pokemon followed the commands, drawing upon the strengths of the other to keep Salvare’s pokemon at bay. Unlike previous battles months before, Salvare and his pokemon had improved by a significant enough margin that Red could hold back a little bit less.

However, though the opposing pokemon had strengthened considerably both in experience and evolution, Red had instructed his pokemon not to go all out. After all, there was little learning to be done when you didn’t even get a chance to fight, and it would be a disservice to the tentative trust Salvare’s had placed in Red’s teaching.

Not that it was deserved.

Red still didn’t truly believe that it was in Salvare’s best interest to stay with him, and he wasn’t one to hide it. Over the past few days of their heightened training regimen - making up for a month of stagnation - Red had repeatedly asked in varying degrees of subtlety on whether or not Salvare truly wanted to burden himself with Red.

Needless to say it didn’t work. The first time he tried, just after his parting match with Karen, Salvare just shook his head while she glared at him.

Though, her glares were far less hostile.

That didn’t mean that she particularly warmed up to him either.

Red shoved back those thoughts as Salvare’s surrounded themselves with an electrified Aqua Ring . He was trying to make a point not to dwell so much on the past month, with varying degrees of success.

Thankfully, the battle in front of him was intense enough to draw his attention towards it. Having not spent much time observing Salvare’s battles before resuming their training, Red was somewhat blindsided by how much Salvare improved.

Across the field now, Salvare commanded his pokemon with a focused intensity that he hadn’t before seen. His pokemon, too, also appeared much more focused on the battle, with Feraligatr in particular pulling off several impressive displays of power.

If Red were a lesser trainer, he daresay that Salvare would win the battle. However, for all of Salvare’s rising strength, Red had persevered through worse.

No one aside from him could say that they lived against the Chariot, after all.

This wasn’t to say that it was easy for Red. He couldn’t sit back and wait like he could just months ago, after all. Salvare’s pokemon held the natural advantage in almost every way, given that they were evolved while his pokemon weren’t. Even for all of Red and his pokemons’ experience and tricks, Salvare’s pokemon were able to put up a worthy challenge.

At least, that was the case in single-battles.

Double-battles. Triple-battles. Free-for-alls…

That was where Red thrived.

Despite everything weighing him and his pokemon down, Red could see - and was secretly relieved by the fact - that they still commanded any battlefield they were in outside of strict one-on-one matches.

Red’s survival instincts weren’t truly gone. He doubted they ever would be.

One such instinct was the need to know, and command, one’s surroundings.

And, despite what it may seem to an uninformed viewer, Red controlled this battle. He saw every rock, every ditch, every movement of his pokemon, every movement of the opponent’s, every movement of his opponent .

Red could end the battle any time he wished. Perhaps Salvare knew this, and decided to fight anyway? Or perhaps he didn’t, and truly believed he had a chance.

Red rather doubted the latter. He would have to fix it if that were the case.

Assuming that it’s the former, it only made Salvare a more worthy protege in his eyes.

the perfect protege.

And, perhaps, one day he could teach Salvare how to command the battlefield in the same way he did.

the same way the Chariot did.

Looking at the battle now, Red could see that the end was drawing near.

Salvare and his pokemon had put up a worthy fight, successfully holding their defence for several minutes. However, Charmander and Froakie didn’t let up, preventing Salvare from pressing any advantage he may have gained.

He’s not quite to the level of you, Red, or the Chariot.

But, perhaps…

He could be one day.

“Charmander, Froakie,” Red’s voice rang out, barring no inflection, “ Infernal Whirlpool , make it quick, but relatively painless.”

Red crossed his arms while Salvare broke for the first time in the match and shot him an alarmed look. Red supposed he could understand the alarm, given the joint-move’s name, but his pokemon knew what they were doing. Feraligatr and Magneton may leave with some bruises and burns, but nothing that couldn’t be healed with a small amount of the medicine that he carried on him.

Besides, Red liked to consider it a learning experience for Salvare. He was specifically orienting Salvare’s training towards being more flexible in battle, part of which involved ignoring common convention regarding moves.

Amongst the many informal rules of battle that Red was trying to weed out of Salvare’s mind, the unspoken tenet of sticking with established moves was one of them.

There were approximately 500 recognised pokemon moves within the League, and the number was up to 700 by the time the Storm came. However, pokemon weren’t necessarily limited to these exact moves. Those with control over elements such as fire and water could theoretically use them in a near-infinite amount of ways, if one were creative enough.

However, while it wasn’t illegal, it was heavily frowned upon to stray away from the League’s list of official moves. This was mainly done to minimise the chance of a pokemon using their abilities in a way that could potentially harm someone with no easy way to heal them. Even official moves such as Surf that have an incredibly wide range of attack have protocols in place to prevent any true danger.

Part of the bad reputation that followed original moves come from criminal organisations having no such qualms over using deadly force. Ironically, most new moves added to the official roster come from watered down variations of moves created by criminal groups.

When new moves were created outside of criminal organisations, though, they often didn’t spread outside of its creator. Most ‘new’ moves could probably be categorised as slight variations of existing moves, such as an aerial Submission or a flaming Tackle . While they were technically different, there were already existing moves that practically had the same effect, such as Brave Bird and Flame Charge respectively.

However, Ash knew none of this when starting off as a trainer - he had always fallen asleep when these things were explained in school - so he had no issue with improvising moves over the course of his journey.

It became something of a major skill for him, creating moves such as Volt Tail , Thunder Armour , Ice Jet , and most recently Water Blade with Froakie. Perhaps the greatest, and most simple, of his creations was the Counter-Shield , which had spread far enough that he had seen footage of the Galar Champion using it back before the Storm.

Either way, it was a goal of Red’s to teach Salvare the utility of improvising new moves. Even something as simple as combining two pokemons’ moves into one could produce something great.

Thankfully, Salvare seemed rather quick on the uptake, given his combination of Aqua Ring with Magneton’s electricity. While it was rather sloppy in execution, the fact that Salvare thought of it in the first place bore merit.

He would make a true warrior out of Salvare yet.

Feraligatr and Magneton didn’t last another thirty seconds against the Infernal Whirlpool , instead being recalled before fainting. Red brought his fingers up to whistle, to which only Froakie responded, given that Charmander seemed far more invested in spreading fires than putting them out.

Red wasn’t terribly worried, though. Charmander would snap out of it soon enough. Instead, while Froakie dealt with Charmander, Red turned to Salvare, who had walked across the battlefield for his comments, “You did well. Better than I expected, even,” As expected, Salvare puffed up at his words, “I saw your use of an electrified Aqua Ring , could you explain that?”

Salvare quickly straightened, visibly eager in his explanation - and in Red’s continued presence - “Well, you were inching your way towards me throughout the battle, and I needed something to keep you away. Your pokemon were both Fire and Water Types, so I tried to make a defence that could counter both,” Salvare’s smile became somewhat strained, “It didn’t work too well, didn’t it?”

“In execution? It worked well enough, though it was somewhat sloppy,” Red explained in his familiar monotone - even if he was trying to make up for his earlier mistakes, he still wasn’t going to soften any failures for Salvare - “In theory? It would work well for any physical attackers, though it would be largely negated by any ranged attacks, as you saw with the Infernal Whirlpool ,” Red paused as he considered other aspects of Salvare’s attack, “There may be a way to weaponize the move. Its main drawback is its lack of range. Perhaps you could see if Feraligatr could push out the water as Magneton electrifies it, thereby making something akin to a small electrical Surf ?”

Salvare hummed, bringing a hand up to his chin, “I’ll try that next time…” He nodded to himself, seeming to have decided something, before turning to Red with a raised eyebrow, “By the way, what is Infernal Whirlpool ? It sounds dramatic, even for someone like you.”

Red raised his own eyebrow at the question, or more accurately, how it was asked - Karen must have rubbed off on him more than he knew - “It’s rather simple, if a bit precise. It’s basically a mixture of Whirlpool and Scald that’s aided by Charmander’s flame. Too much heat and the water evaporates. Too little, and it becomes nothing more than a lukewarm Whirlpool .”

Salvare nodded as the two of them began to trek back towards camp, “Alright, I understand. Still, couldn’t you call it something, y’know, tame ? Like Scalding Whirlpool ?”

Red didn’t answer immediately, instead humming to himself as they walked through the countryside. After a moment, he spoke methodically, “ Infernal Whirlpool was originally created as… a more grand attack.”

“Ah,” Salvare nodded his head in understanding - though they both knew he still didn’t, not truly - “This goes back to your thing of having other pokemon in the past?”

Red’s face twisted, though he still answered, “ Yes .” He hoped his tone of voice was enough to signal to Salvare that he was treading on shaky ground.

Thankfully, for all that Salvare had grown bolder, he still deferred to Red in this, “Alright…” They walked in silence for a few moments before Salvare piped up another question, “Are we still looking at aura training today?”

Red sighed softly to himself, “I suppose. I still think you’d be better off with Karen in that regard.”

Salvare rolled his eyes, getting visibly annoyed at Red’s words, “Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear-”

“I’m serious,” Red spoke up, cutting Salvare off, “My knowledge of aura is limited at best. We can still wait until the Conference so that you can resume with Karen.”

“I can ,” Salvare responded, crossing his arms as he turned to face Red, “But I want to learn from you,” He sighed, turning back towards the trail, “Look, I get that you’re still scared of ‘dooming me’ or something. I don’t agree, but I get it.”

Red followed behind, his mouth becoming thin, “...Why are you so adamant about this?”

Salvare turned back with a raised eyebrow, “Adamant about what exactly?”

“Learning under me,” Red answered with a handwave, “You were doing just fine with Karen, and we both know I’m not exactly… stable at the moment,” Red’s frown became more pronounced as he said that.

Salvare’s eyes became a touch softer - though there remained a slight edge that hadn’t been there a month before - “Everyone has their own demons, Red. Myself included,” He poked his finger to Red’s chest, “Demons or not, I chose you because you persist even with those demons.”

Red felt his eyebrows scrunch together, “So? That means nothing.”

“That means everything ,” Salvare snapped before turning around to walk, “Not everyone is as resilient as you, Red.”

Salvare didn’t even know a fraction of what Red had lived through.

Yet he still placed such faith in him.

Red felt himself scowl, though none of his bitterness was directed at Salvare, “I’m not as resilient as you think.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Salvare called back, walking ahead.

Red shook his head before jogging to catch up. They didn’t speak any more before reaching camp, at which point Salvare split off to tend to his pokemon, leaving Red to do the same for his.

Red let out Froakie and Charmander as he walked up to Pichu and Vee, who were lightly training at the edge of camp. Red made brief eye contact with Pichu, prompting the mouse to nod. Red hummed, looking to Vee as the baby pokemon followed the routine set by Pichu.

For the past few days on the road, Red had taken to introducing Vee to training. It had been touch and go on the first day, but they had found a solution by the end of the day.

The most important aspect in Vee’s training was learning to control its evolutions. Based on the notes from the underground lab that Red recovered, Team Source primarily used environmental cues along with various forms of pain to stimulate transformations within the creature. As far as Red understood with his few psychic communications with Vee, she had begun to relate unique emotions and feelings towards each stimulus, which had caused her to be unstable when exposed to the outside world.

Red hadn’t immediately learned this due to Vee using his spirit as an ‘anchor’ of sorts, helping her stabilise somewhere between Espeon and Sylveon. However, for all that her presence grew to be a comfort in his mind, he determined that they needed to train her how to hold control over her form on her own. Her use of his spirit could only be a short-term solution, given the risks of them somehow becoming separated.

Thankfully, when Red brought this up to his pokemon, they had all gladly - very much so in Froakie’s case - volunteered to help Vee establish control over herself. They mainly did this by helping her establish a greater connection with their respective elements, with the hope of that greater understanding allowing her to more easily differentiate between those forms.

It didn’t cover everything, though. While Froakie could help somewhat with Vee when she was Umbreon, it wasn’t nearly as much as he could with Vaporeon. None of them could help with Espeon, and Froakie was actively repulsed by Sylveon.

Red had taken to helping Vee with her Fairy Type. While they could commune with their Psychic link, they had established a special connection whenever she was transformed into a Sylveon. However, neither of them truly understood exactly what it entailed, but Red believed - hoped - that by being present with Vee as she explored that form, it would help her learn to stabilise it.

That would be later tonight, though.

Right now, Pichu was helping her in her Jolteon form.

Looking at her now, Red could see her face scrunched up in concentration, trying to establish a connection to Pichu’s element. Though Red could see features of Flareon and Sylveon peeking out of her, she looked far more consistent as a Jolteon compared to just days before.

He hoped it was a sign of good progress.

Turning back to Froakie, Red knelt down and asked, “You still good for your session with Vee later on today?”

Froakie nodded stoically, staring at Vee with a warmth that was new to him. Red smiled to himself. The frog had taken great pains to teach Vee his element, always starting at the hour, on the hour.

Red turned his attention towards the other side of camp. He could see Salvare tending to his pokemon, along with conversing in low tones different strategies for them to try, new moves to integrate, and other ways to improve.

It was almost as if Red was looking into a mirror of himself.

For all that Red felt relieved at Karen’s absence, he did feel vaguely guilty for Salvare. Camp was much more quiet than it had been over the last month. Even when he had broken away, he still heard the two of them engaging in various discussions, arguments, and other conversation.

Red and Salvare weren’t the same. While the two of them had engaged in a few small conversations, most of their time together was focused on training. It was all that Red was comfortable with at the moment - he still saw shades of Judgement in Salvare’s eyes - but he was making an effort to improve, however… slowly it may be.

Are you ever going to tell him the truth?

Red shook his head and stood up. After checking that his pokemon were occupied, Red walked over to Salvare’s side of the camp, catching the young man’s eyes as he stepped closer.

Salvare nodded, and dutifully began to stand before being halted by Red, “We can stay here, Salvare. I was thinking we could try to foster your aura with your pokemon.”

“Oh,” Salvare sat back down, his eyes beginning to gleam with interest, “I was under the impression you were going to teach me more moves.”

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“Well, I was under the impression that you were doing quite well in that regard,” Red responded - and it was truly impressive, given the timeframe - “However, Karen told me she hadn’t gone much farther outside of those and the other basics.”

Salvare’s eyes widened before narrowing - perhaps he was surprised that the two of them had been civil? Or as civil as they could be, anyway - “Alright…” Salvare leaned back, giving Red a discerning eye as he sat down with him, “Does this relate to how you seem to always understand your pokemon?”

“Yes,” Red answered simply, before tilting his head towards Feraligatr, who turned away - interesting - “Before we begin, can you tell me how Feraligatr is feeling now?”

“Huh?” Salvare asked, before fully processing the question. Salvare considered Feraligatr for a moment before shrugging, somewhat unsurely, “Wary? He wasn’t hurt badly by our battle earlier, but he’s… his pride is hurt?”

Red nodded thoughtfully as Feraligatr huffed and gave Salvare a small stink eye, “And how did you get this?”

Salvare thought about it for a bit, “Well, I’d like to think I know my starter well enough to know what he’s feeling. Also, he was somewhat grouchy as I patched him up, and he wasn’t badly hurt, so I guess that it was because he was embarrassed.”

Red nodded to himself once more with a hum before turning to Feraligatr, “And you, Feraligatr. Can you tell me what Salvare is feeling?”

Both Salvare and Feraligatr turned to Red as if he asked if the sky was blue. After a moment, in which both of them determined Red was serious, Feraligatr gave a doubtful snort before extending a hand to Salvare before cupping his head and chest, before giving a small wave towards Red.

While Salvare seemed entirely confused by the interaction, Red gave a comprehending nod, cupping his chin as if in thought, “Interesting. Thank you, Feraligatr,” The crocodile once more gave a dubious look to Red before crouching down closer to Salvare.

Red turned back to regard Salvare, scrutinising him with what Salvare could only call intrigue . A few more seconds passed in silence before Red breathed out, “ Interesting. I can see how you could’ve fascinated Him.”

Salvare’s patience snapped, “Who? What do you mean?”

Red blinked, as if coming out of a reverie. He pursed his lips before asking, “Did you understand, at all, what Feraligatr said to me?”

Salvare frowned, increasingly confused at where this was all going, “No…? Should I?”

“Not necessarily,” Red answered, “But it is interesting…” Before Salvare could snap again for Red to make sense , his mentor - and he was secretly overjoyed that he could say that again - leaned forward, “When you’re in battle, have you ever felt something akin to a spiritual connection to your pokemon?”

At Salvare’s outwardly dubious look, Red sighed a bit, “Bear with me here.”

“Alright,” Salvare responded, though it didn’t assuage his confusion, “I mean… Maybe? I think I might’ve felt something when we fought Whitney a few weeks ago, when he evolved.”

Red gave an assured nod, as if he now understood something that he hadn’t before, “So it happened in evolution…” Red hummed to himself, looking toward Feraligatr for a moment before turning back to Salvare, “Alright, I think I understand.”

“What?” Salvare asked, a touch impatiently. He was getting slightly sick of the vagueness.

“It seems as though you established a one-way connection with your pokemon,” Red answered, as if it made any sense to Salvare. Thankfully, he didn’t have to ask before Red elaborated, “Feraligatr has an empathic connection with you, though it isn’t fully developed. Granted, that’s more of a function of how new it is.”

Salvare furrowed his brow, “An empathic connection?”

“Feraligatr can feel your thoughts and emotions for lack of better words,” Red answered, as if he wasn’t saying anything crazy, “When he answered my question earlier, he gave insight that he wouldn’t have gotten simply from knowing you well. I also felt some sort of connection between the two of you, I just only confirmed what type of connection it was now.”

Salvare remained silent for a few moments, digesting what Red told him, before asking, “What does all of that mean?”

“Well,” Red looked off in the distance before giving a small shrug, “Not much, at the moment. Right now, Feraligatr has a more intimate understanding of what exactly you’re feeling at any given moment, whether you’re sad or happy. It might end up bleeding over to him as a result, depending on how strong your emotion is.”

“What?” Salvare yelped, alarmed, sparing a shocked glance with Feraligatr before asking Red, “Is there a way to stop it?”

Red’s eyes went wide, “You shouldn’t want to stop it!” He exclaimed before thinking, then winced as Salvare shrunk back lightly, “Sorry. I mean… It isn’t a bad thing.”

Salvare didn’t seem convinced, but he still asked, “How so?”

Red pursed his lips, seemingly deciding how to answer. After a moment, he turned his head towards his side of camp, “Salvare… This type of connection doesn’t only go one way,” He turned to eye Salvare - who noticed a small flame of crimson with Red’s eyes - “When nurtured, this connection can go both ways, allowing your pokemon to feel what you feel, and for you to feel what they feel,” Red’s eyes turned serious, and Salvare straightened up, “This is… quite possibly the greatest blessing I could wish on a trainer. While this connection could strengthen the negative emotions held between man and pokemon, it can, and will , heighten their bond to new heights.”

Red spoke calmly, though Salvare could hear the undercurrent of emotion in Red’s voice, “To be quite frank, Salvare, my bond with my pokemon has been the one thing that’s kept me alive. Without that bond… Well, I’m quite sure I wouldn't be here to speak of it.”

Red turned back once more, a soft smile spreading upon his lips as Pichu and the others gave a cheer as Vee successfully used Thundershock without any backlash, “That you have the beginnings of this connection with your pokemon is a truly special gift, Salvare,” Red’s voice lowered, images of many, many of the most vile individuals he had met flashing across his mind, “ Don’t throw it away , or I will heavily reconsider having you as my protege.”

Red didn’t look back immediately, but he could feel the spike in surprise, apprehension, and no small amount of fear coming from Salvare, “I won’t…” Salvare’s words petered off into a stilted silence, “Still… How can I prevent the… bad stuff from infecting Feraligatr?”

Infecting? Odd choice of words.

Sending that thought away for later consideration, Red turned around - his eyes no longer burned - “The first step to that is to understand oneself. To understand what makes us tick , and where our strengths lie, and our weaknesses.”

Red turned around to face Salvare fully, who stared intently back, “Once you are able to create an image of yourself and your aura, then you may alter it as you see fit.”

Salvare frowned, though it was more curious than critical, “Karen never mentioned any of this.”

Red mirrored Salvare’s frown, though his was more severe, “Karen likely learned something else. I had an… unorthodox teacher.”

Salvare accepted that answer with a slow nod, before asking, “If it isn’t too much to ask… what does your aura look like?”

For several seconds, Red held silent, his face unmoving. Salvare began to accept that he wouldn’t receive an answer when Red spoke up, hesitant, “It’s… an ocean. Endless. Stranded. No end in sight, but filled with every colour.”

Salvare almost spoke up when Red continued with clipped words, “There’s… a storm above the ocean. The Storm…” Salvare became somewhat alarmed as Red’s face twisted in something that looked like pain, “...That is all I can say.”

Salvare didn’t get a chance to pipe in before Red shook his head - violently - “Either way. I think the best thing we can do now for you is to begin constructing the image for your aura. Once it’s satisfactory, I can see about relaying what I know about establishing and limiting bonds with your pokemon,” Red seemed disgruntled as he said the word ‘limiting’, but his tone was understanding, “After that… Well, I’ll figure that out.”

Salvare nodded lightly, “All right…” He looked intently back at Red, “So… How do I do this?”

Red grimaced, silently asking Arceus for patience both for himself and for Salvare.

This was as much a learning experience for him as much as it was for Salvare.

…

Arceus help them both.

…

Mahogany Gym

“Let’s finish this, Houndour! Incinerate !”

Though Pryce attempted to have Lapras intercept the large ball of fire with a wave, she had sustained too much injury to defend herself in time. The Lapras cried out in pain before fainting, marking her victory over Pryce for her seventh Gym Badge.

Still too weak to beat Red, though.

Despite having just won her match, Karen retained a minute frown at the thought of her… friend? She wasn’t quite sure how to categorise him at this point. They knew each other rather well (not to mention the demons he shared with her and Salvare). While he was a person of interest for the Aura Guardians, she liked to think she had established enough of a relationship to elevate themselves from merely calling him that.

Perhaps he could be called a rival? Karen hadn’t ever really bothered with those - her goals were too grand for most - and she didn’t really see Red as a rival in the traditional sense.

Oh sure, she wanted to best him in battle - because, really, it was just getting absurd how strong he was with unevolved runts - but that was mainly to humble the man at this point. She still felt somewhat bitter over Salvare choosing him as his aura instructor over her, but she recognised that Red had come first, not to mention the extenuating circumstances.

So what was Red to her? Again, she almost thought he might be a friend, but even with their issues acknowledged back in Azalea Town, they had both… done and said things that she regretted. Though, it was hard to tell whether Red did, given how one-track his mind is.

Karen still believed that Red was neither good nor bad. She believed that he had good intentions, he showed mixed results in regards to how he got there.

She was almost certain now, given his haunted look, that he had killed, many times.

Karen wasn’t normally one to dwell on others. Aside from her fellow Guardians, she felt that she had nothing to prove. Over the course of the past couple of months, though, that changed. She found herself genuinely caring for Salvare as a friend and a pseudo-apprentice. And Red… Well, she certainly listened to what the man said, whether he knew it or not.

Believe what she may, but the man had experience in spades, and it showed.

Even then, she knew that Red would be of growing importance soon. Whether it was due to his dealings with his mysterious enemy, or simply his growing notoriety in the battling scene, sooner or later, Red was going to catch a lot of attention.

She wondered if he was ready for it.

Karen banished her thoughts away as the pomp and ceremony of the Gym Match wrapped up. Due to her going for the 8-Badge challenge, the Mahogany Gym - which had the historical lowest turnouts for Gym Matches in Indigo over the past decade and a half - received more visitors than usual. Still, it wasn’t nearly as much as Red’s match in Azalea, and certainly not as much as Salvare’s in Goldenrod.

The kid became a small celebrity in his own right, after that match.

Karen turned her thoughts back to the present as Pryce hobbled up to her, grunting softly, “Yeh did well. Better than I expected, even,” He hummed to himself as the two of them began to walk to his quarters, “I’ve never seen yeh use some o’ those moves before.”

Karen shrugged nonchalantly, hiding how much the approval of an Elder Guardian meant to her, “I learned on my travels.”

Pryce nodded lightly, opening the door to his quarters. Karen noticed before him the extra presence in the room, which made itself known when a raspy voice cackled, “Took yeh long enough, yeh old man.”

Pryce halted for a moment, before scowling as he hobbled to his desk, grumbling, “O’ course yer here, yeh great hag. Come to see yer apprentice?”

Agatha’s smile dimmed to a small smirk, “Indeed I did,” She stood up slowly and turned to Karen, her eyes becoming no softer, but less narrow nonetheless, “It is good to see you after so long, my apprentice.”

Karen gave a shallow bow, giving fealty to her superior, “And the same to you, my master.”

“Bah!” Agatha swatted a hand away, “None o’ that, now! Yer nearly grown, my girl. Soon enough, yeh’ll get to call me by name.”

Karen’s face pulled into a small frown, “It doesn’t seem soon to me.”

Agatha barked a laugh, sitting back down on her sofa, “Jus’ another month, my girl. Bah! Yeh young ones are all so impatient,” Agatha grumbled good naturedly before twisting sharply to Pryce, “Aye, Prycey. Don’t yeh have a Piloswine to search for?”

And just like that, Pryce’s mood crashed down - Karen was always somewhat impressed how Agatha managed it so easily - “This is my Gym. Yeh don’ get to kick me out in me own home , woman.”

Agatha snorted, “Fine, fine,” She turned back and gestured for the seat across from her, “Take a seat, Karen. I do believe we have much to catch up on.”

“I do,” Karen muttered with a sigh, adjusting herself in the seat before asking, “Did you get my last message before I got here?”

“Aye, I did. Yeh didn’ say much,” Agatha pointed out with a pointed look, “I ‘magine yer lookin’ to rectify that?”

Karen nodded, falling into the familiar routine of reporting for her meetings, “Before I flew to Mahogany, Red, Salvare, and I had a… discussion over Red’s secrets.”

“Oh?” Agatha asked with interest, leaning forward with her shadow, “Do tell.”

“Red didn’t share much, mainly the emotions he associates with the events of his past,” Karen elaborated stiffly, “However… I do believe I have a greater understanding of who Red might be, given what he did share, and how it…” Karen visibly grimaced, “ Affected him.”

“Hmm,” Agatha leaned back, showing no small amount of interest. At his desk, Pryce kept out an ear as he began to slog through paperwork, “Well, don’ keep us waitin’, girl. What did you learn?”

Karen briefly debated on what to start with, before deciding, “First off, Red is more attuned to his aura than any of us realised, along with being… more volatile.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Before I explain, I believe Red has PTSD,” Karen frowned, “I’m not a psychologist, but I can’t think of much else that it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Pryce asked, though it seemed more rhetorical than anything else.

“He had several… attacks over my last month travelling with him. He becomes… cold . His aura, I mean. If it goes on for longer, it has the chance to begin going hot , at which point Red’s aura begins to let loose,” Karen spoke in a forced mechanical tone.

She didn’t like how much his episodes affected her.

“The main effect was Red’s aura simply lashing out randomly, though there were a few times that I felt what I think to be localised earthquakes,” Karen’s eyebrows rose, a new thought just coming to her, “He’s shown no other indication to Ground Type aura… which is concerning.”

Agatha hummed again, and Pryce broke in, “I’m… not entirely surprised by this, in all honesty.”

Karen widened her eyes, “You’re not?”

“Durin’ our Gym match a few months back, he… well, he froze in the middle o’ the match,” Pryce explained before leaning forward to elaborate, “An’ I don’ mean he froze froze. I mean he froze like a war vet, seein’ a vision o’ the war.”

Agatha’s face only became more clouded as Karen nodded at that, “That fits with what I’ve seen,” She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, “What I mean to get to by saying this is that… well, Red had an attack , and impulsively decided to show us what he felt during his past.”

Agatha spoke up for the first time in several minutes, “His past? He shared it with you?”

“I didn’t see anything of it, I only felt it,” Karen explained with a growing frown, “Based on what I could tell, it was his thoughts on the matter.”

“Well,” It was Pryce that said this, growing impatient, “Will yeh please share with us?”

Karen shivered lightly, “I will, it was just… a lot ,” She gave another breath before explaining, “From what I could understand, Red was a part of some sort of group. I don’t understand its mission, but it was apparently fighting against another group seeked some sort of disaster. There was some sort of betrayal within his group, which… led to death, I believe. Apparently, someone - no - multiple people sacrificed their lives for Red to live. However, it wasn’t enough. The disaster came, and Red was apparently the only survivor. I can’t say much after that. It was all… too much .”

Karen began to massage a light headache. After a moment, Pryce asked, much softer than before, “What can yeh tell us?”

“Red blames himself,” Karen answered bluntly, “That became clear before the vision, but it confirmed it,” Karen frowned as she thought further, recalling a chilling, endless hatred in her bones, “He… He also really hates something. Someone? I don’t know, the hate was overwhelming… Personal. ”

The three sat in silence for a moment as they digested her words. After which, Agatha summarised what they knew, “So, we got a prodigal Rogue Aura Guardian who probably has some cocktail of survivor’s guilt and PTSD,” Her face scrunched up in distaste, “He’s still too young for it, but he does sound like some folks I knew from the Great War,” She hummed in growing concern, “Given what you’ve said, I take it he hasn’t had any sort of therapy?”

Karen scoffed, “I highly doubt it. Even if it was offered, I’d bet Red would rather run away than receive it,” Her face twisted into a small scowl, “Especially since, apparently, his enemies are still out there.”

“They are?” Agatha asked sharply. At Karen’s nod, her face became grim, “That could potentially be a problem.”

“I’ve… actually thought some on who could be Red’s enemy,” Karen’s voice was uncharacteristically unsure, “I’m not exactly certain, but it somewhat fits with what I know.”

“Well, tell us,” Agatha commanded with a tap of her cane.

Karen hesitated briefly, before sharing her theory, “Red’s words made it seem like his enemy was more of an organisation than an individual, so I did a bit of research on different criminal organisations that could fit with what Red described.”

“The best match I could find was Cipher, given its regrowth over the last decade. There’s also some reports of Cipher being far more brutal than local organisations like Team Rocket,” Karen shook her head in disgust, “I’m not gonna lie, the more I read, the more I got mad. They use child soldiers! ” Karen snapped before a somewhat horrifying thought came to her, “Maybe that’s where Red came from! He could be some sort of runaway from Cipher; it’s the only thing I can think of that makes sense .”

The two Elder Guardians both gave it thought. “It is possible, but…” Agatha frowned, not liking her - rare - uncertainty, “Something in my gut tells me that isn’t it.”

Karen scowled, “Me too, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating,” Her anger simmered as she turned back to Agatha, “I mean, Red’s guilt is real , and it is disproportionately large for anything but the worst , and I can’t think of what it could be.”

“Perhaps,” The two of them turned as Pryce spoke up, “We should leave this to later?”

Agatha snorted, “Of course yeh’d want to stick around an’ do nothin’.”

“Not what I mean, woman,” Pryce grumbled, though he seemed too tired to fly into a rage, “I mean that yeh’ll see ‘im at the Silver Conference, yeah?” At Karen’s nod, he hummed, “Then yeh can see if he’s willin’ to share more information with yeh?”

“Oh, yeh think he’d just be willin’ ?” Agatha asked with a derisive scoff.

“Well, we can’t exactly force it out o’ him, now can’t we?” Pryce rebutted sharply, “He’s already been predisposed to not trustin’ us,” Karen flushed as he said that, “Best thing to do is to build upon the trust he seems to ‘ave given her.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes, though she gave his words thought. After a moment, she relented with a scoff, “Fine, yeh win this one, Pryce.”

Pryce sniffed, “And an Alleluia to tha’.”

Agatha wrinkled her face, visibly disgruntled, but Karen knew that was her default expression, so she wasn’t worried, “I have more to report.”

Agatha considered her, “We can continue tomorrow, Karen,” Agatha waved a hand away, “We ‘ave a lot to think about with yer news.”

Karen nodded to herself, “Alright,” She turned to Pryce, asking, “Is it alright if I stay here for the night?”

Pryce paused in his work, looking at Karen with mixed exacerbation and fondness, “O’ course yeh are, Karen.”

“Ohhh, and what about little ol’ me?” Agatha stepped up into Pryce’s space, batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated manner.

Pryce was either too tired or too desensitised to react in an angry fashion, instead muttering, “Jus’ leave, woman.”

Agatha sniffed, “Fine,” She stood up and began to walk out before pausing, “Come with me a moment, Karen. I have a gift for you.”

Karen felt her eyebrows rise despite herself - Agatha never gave gifts - and followed obediently.

Once they reached the backdoors of the Gym, Agatha stopped, and reached into her satchel to retrieve a dark purple stone radiating with mournful energy.

It didn’t take long for Karen to recognize what the stone was, and it didn’t take much longer for her to realise what it was for. She gasped, “Agatha-”

“I don’ want to hear it!” Agatha snapped, before softening, “Yeh’ve done well, Karen. Far better than I at yer age,” She dropped the dusk stone into Karen’s hands, clasping them over it, “I look forward to seein’ how yeh do in the Silver Conference. However yeh do, yeh’ll make me proud.”

Karen was surprised to feel the beginning of tears in her eyes. She took a moment to keep them in, “I will, Agatha. I will.”

“O’ course yeh will,” Agatha agreed warmly, before sharpening her smile into somethin’ sinister, “Still, I expect yeh to crush everyone on the path to victory, my apprentice. I expect to see yeh win .”

Karen responded with a fanged smile of her own, and - ignoring her doubt in the form of a vexing man - replied, “ I will. ”

…

The Ruins of Alph, November 19th, 1997

“Do you hear something, Salvare?”

Salvare frowned, craning his ear to listen. After a moment, he shook his head, “Nothing unusual. Do you hear something?”

Red thought about that question as the two of them walked by the series of mounds and cobbled structures dotting the ruins. He almost believed he did hear something - a buzz, almost like the static of a radio - yet it was just faint enough that he questioned whether it was merely his imagination.

Realising he had yet to answer, Red replied, “I’m unsure.”

Salvare gave Red a considering look, but remained silent as the two of them travelled through the ruins. It was far more quiet in this stretch of their journey when compared to anywhere else. While they hadn’t encountered many pokemon in their travels - again, Red believed it to be some sort of effect of his presence - they could still at least hear the wildlife, sometimes even seeing them interact in the distance, far enough away from Red that they felt comfortable to do so.

Here, though, there was nothing. In fact, there had seldom been any wild pokemon in this area for millenia, at least according to what Salvare knew of local legends. There were many theories surrounding the ruins, its purpose, and why pokemon seemed repelled from it.

For his own part, Red didn’t much care outside of the slight - but ever present - sense of wrongness that he felt as they traversed through the ruins. It only became more concerning when both of their pokemon also seemed uncomfortable.

Thankfully, the ruins were small enough that they would be able to reach Violet City by the end of the day.

The buzz returned - and Red felt strangely drawn to it . Red felt the tug in his heart, and tore it away - an automatic response; he wasn’t a big fan of any psychic suggestions - “Are you sure you don’t hear anything, Salvare?”

Salvare paused in full this time, giving Red a questioning look before looking out to the ruins, visibly listening for anything out of the ordinary. After a moment, Salvare shrugged with a frown, “I mean… I hear the wind. It’s much more windy here than anywhere else we’ve been.”

Red gave a thoughtful nod at that. It was rather windy, enough so that Red and Salvare had recalled all of their pokemon for their own comfort. Pichu had taken to burrowing himself in Red’s shirt . Still, Red had doubts over whether the wind was the source of the noises he was hearing, no matter how loud it may occasionally get.

However, Red couldn’t exactly say much more in that regard, so the two resumed their trek through the ruins. Red noticed the occasional glance Salvare gave him, looking somewhere between worried and interested. Red never replied in any way, visual or oratory, instead trying to fight off the encroaching headache that never seemed to go away.

The buzz came once more, louder, more insistent. Demanding. Pleading. Red stopped as the static solidified into a voice, soft yet harsh, monotone in a way not dissimilar to his own when he had to desperately fight against his rage.

COME FORTH

“ Salvare, ” Salvare had already turned around, waiting for Red to catch up - ever mindful of his mentor, even now - “ There’s a presence nearby. ”

Salvare frowned, though he began to look around warily, “I haven’t seen anything…”

Red’s eyes tracked where Salvare’s looked - they began to glow, though the fire within was more controlled than it had been weeks before - “Something is calling for me.”

Salvare paused at that, his face contorting to a grim frown, “...Are you being forced to go?”

Salvare’s voice contained something heavy, something fierce.

‘No-one’s my master!’

“No…” Red drawed the word out, and found it to be true, “I… can ignore the call,” Though his headache may suffer for it. Red paused as he considered it, though. Whatever called him seemed vaguely desperate, as if it didn’t have much time left.

The sky was darkening, just slightly, but enough for Red to notice - it was familiar, but its meaning escaped Red - though Salvare didn’t seem to, still intently focusing on Red, the implicit question clear on his face.

Are you going to answer this call?

Red frowned, but nodded, “I… think I must ,” There was something hauntingly familiar in its call, something he knew he had heard before , “You can go ahead. I’ll catch up when I can.”

Red didn’t much expect Salvare to do so, and his protege proved him right when he huffed, “Yeah, no . Whatever the hell is going on here, I’ll still follow you,” Salvare tried to give a reassured smile, though they both knew it was fake, “I lived through the shit that happened with Celebi. This can’t be anything weirder than that.”

You’d be surprised.

Red didn’t verbalise his thoughts on the matter, instead nodding as he turned away from the trail, and towards the ruins proper. The voice of the static beckoned him in that direction. Come Forth.

Still, for all that had happened between them, Red was flattered that Salvare still chose to follow him, even on Red’s whim.

It still worried him.

‘Wherever he goes, I go’

Red shoves the thought away as he had done so before, instead turning his thoughts to what Salvare had said regarding the forest.

There were some similarities, Red could admit. Something spoke to Red that didn’t seem to reach anyone else, not to mention the dark, familiar feeling of his aura. However, whereas Red at least had some idea of what to do while in the forest, he was entirely out of his depth here.

A small, creeping chill settled itself within his neck.

familiar.

Salvare trailed silently behind as Red cast out his senses with a Detect . There wasn’t immediately anything he could feel - aside from a growing sea of darkness - until he felt a presence far below him.

Except…

It wasn’t merely a single presence, but dozens.

All remaining absolutely still.

Red’s frown became more pronounced as the Detect faded away. The static in his ears was only growing as he hiked deeper into the ruins, the structures around them becoming less and less demolished. Yet, despite the pool of dread that built in his stomach, Red almost felt a sense of relief as he found himself at the centre of the Ruins of Alph, which was now nothing more than a modest mound with a tunnel leading down.

He almost felt as if he had been here before.

The wind around them seemed to grow more frantic, whistling a haunting tune through the bark of dead trees. All around them, the ruins of the long-dead temple seemed to sing as Red and Salvare entered the mound, and descended to the chamber below.

The two of them remained silent as the song above them died out, Salvare remaining tense, and Red remaining determined. The static in his ears finally drew away into a small hum, somehow anxious despite being heard as constant static.

Red’s feet touched polished stone, cracked with age, and he faced a vast, unlit chamber.

Salvare came up behind him, eyes squinting as he struggled with seeing in the dark. Red considered letting Charmander out of his pokeball when a torch to his right sputtered, blue flames struggling to puff into life.

The earth lightly shook - Red didn’t know there were earthquakes in the area - rattling the torches on their pedestals. None fell, and after a minute, the chamber was illuminated by a wavering blue glow.

Red heard Salvare suck in a breath as he witnessed what lay within the chamber. Scattered across the air were scores of Unown, all remaining still - almost as if they were dead - their eyes unseeing as they stared into Red’s own.

Red was vaguely surprised to feel the distinct sense of discomfort the image brought to him. He had seen other Unown a few times, and though they were certainly odd, Red could still remember them being very much alive.

Yet, these were lifeless.

Red wondered if others knew about this… half-dead group of Unown. He imagined they would have been moved if anyone knew, probably for study over whatever seemed to have them in stasis.

Turning his thoughts back to the pleas bringing him here, Red asked to the silence, “Is… there something I need to do?”

Silence answered him, and Red almost asked again when he saw a twitch, a movement within the rows of Unown.

Slowly, three Unown rose and separated from the group, their eyes opening as one, unblinking as they all stared at Red.

They remained still, and Red kept his silence, waiting. After a moment, the static returned, though it came in short, almost joyous (?) bursts.

The Unown all floated towards him, bouncing up and down in apparent glee. Red gave a tentative smile as the three Unown bounced around him, short bursts of static dancing across him, joining together into half a song, unheard yet understood.

Saviour.

Red’s smile dimmed as the thought began to loop, repeatedly, as if the Unown understood nothing more, as if everything but that in their mind had been washed away. Broken.

Red tried to reclaim his smile - it didn’t work - as he asked, “How… You want me to save them? ”

All at once, the Unown stilled, all noises ceasing as one. Red felt his chill return, feeling as if a shadow - beautiful and terrible - was fast approaching.

It was terribly familiar.

Horribly familiar.

‘We’ll meet again.’

‘UNIT CORRUPTION,’ Red’s eyes snapped back to the Unown, their eyes staring past him, seeing something that none other could see - their eyes almost seemed resigned - ‘UNIT CORRUPTION AT 99.999% - CRITICAL ERROR - USER DESTRUCTION IMMINENT’

Before Red could comprehend what it was saying, all three Unown snapped their eyes onto him, all in perfect clarity, ‘INCOMPLETE DATA - SORTING DATA - DATA COMPILATION COMPLETE - INCOMPLETE DATA,’ The Unown began to spin around Red, who was stilled in a mix of terror and unexplainable sadness , ‘VESSEL DETECTED - DATA TRANSFER INITIATED - USER DESTRUCTION IMMINENT - ALL IS AS THE CREATOR WILLS’

ALL IS AS THE CREATOR WILLS

The haunting voice, echoing endlessly in Red’s mind, grew louder as Red fell to his knees, screaming in silence as he felt his mind open up, and receive.

Flashes.

Flashes of memory.

Incomplete.

Corrupted.

A smile from a dearest friend.

A snarl from a dearest enemy.

A commune with the Mover of Continents.

A language of the ancestors.

A touch with the beasts of darkness.

Fragments of memory.

Incomplete.

Scattered.

Lost.

Red opened his eyes, nearly collapsing onto his hands.

He heard Salvare’s voice behind him - panicked, confused - and spoke to console him that he felt no pain.

Yet, what he spoke in his mind was not what he spoke with his tongue, instead twisting in ways unnatural to hiss, “ Ayaave Nei Char-Do. ”

Salvare’s frown lessened, though he looked no less worried, “What?”

Red scrunched his own eyebrows in confusion, before enunciating, “ I am fine, ” He struggled onto his feet, wobbling slightly as Salvare steadied him, “ I just… They… Showed me a vision? ”

Salvare’s frown seemed oddly mournful, “I… don’t entirely understand what just happened, but…” He tipped his head to the ground, bringing Red’s attention to the three bodies of Unown that lay on the ground, unblinking, still, dead , “I think it was the last thing they did.”

Red didn’t respond, staring down with wide eyes at the three Unown. Their eyes remained open, yet they no longer held the life they once did, instead slowly seeming to fade away, leaving nothing but the dim white glow of their eyes, their pupils fading, slowly disappearing.

The darkness around him grew.

He almost felt as if it was laughing at him.

how terribly beautiful

“R-Red?” Salvare asked behind him, voice terribly small, yet solid in a way that Red knew his own wouldn’t be, “Will you be alright?”

Red almost wanted to laugh - wanted to weep - but he remained silent. Another three lives added to his list. Red had been the one to follow the call. Red had been the one to wake them up. Red had been the one to lead them to their deaths.

The darkness grew until it was tangible in his lungs. The earth shook, greater than it had before, closer. As if a Storm approached.

“ We never should have come here, ” Red growled, largely to himself, “ I should have known what I would have brought. ”

“Red,” Salvare’s voice was hard, though when Red turned around, Salvare’s eyes were soft, “Whatever this was… It was not your fault. ”

Red opened his mouth to deny Salvare’s words - his reassurance - but closed it when the shadows around the chamber seemed to swell, almost overshadowing the blue flames of the torches.

Red stilled, the hairs on his arms standing as a creature walked in from the other side of the chamber, a haunting melody coming from its lips. The eulogy whispered into Red’s ear, both loving and spiteful, praising the sanctity of life, and the inevitability of death. Red blinked, and for but a moment, stood upon a mountaintop, staring down at a grave that rested at the peak.

The grave bore his name.

Red blinked, and heard Salvare softly gasp behind him as, from the shadows laid from the torches, an Absol waltzed towards them, its song enveloping the chamber.

Red eyed the disaster pokemon as it approached them, locking eyes with it for a moment before it turned away, facing Salvare. Salvare’s breath hitched as the Absol rubbed up against Salvare, looping around his legs before glaring at Red.

Amidst the bizarre and horrifying events that had taken place on that day, Red couldn’t help but give a self-deprecating - self-hating - smile, as if to say, ‘here’s to you, from one harbinger of destruction to another.’

After all, had he not just destroyed another set of lives in his path?

Yet, Absol only seemed to eye him back with a look of boredom, as if it meant to say, ‘you are not as wise as you believe.’

‘after all…’

‘the disaster has yet to come.’

Red’s eyes widened.

And everything clicked.

The darkness he felt. The pressure he felt in his lungs. The earth shaking. The familiarity of it. The hatred.

Absol, a harbinger for disaster.

For destruction.

Whether in Destruction or Creation.

Your Fate will Meet Its End.

“ SALVARE! ” Red called, half in rage, half in desperation.

The earth shook.

“ WE NEED TO GO! ” Red felt his voice going hoarse, pushing Salvare past the exit-

The earth shattered.

‘I apologise, but I can’t let you do that.’

‘Fissure, Dio.’

Red knew that voice. Even without the modulator, he could never forget the speaker .

Red turned around - Salvare was up the tunnel, out of harm’s way - throwing two pokeballs as he began to command attacks, anything they could do to keep themselves alive.

He should’ve known it was a lost cause.

Through flashes of light, blazing blue torches, and the quaking of the earth, Red did not see anything more than a shadow of a man.

Yet he could see the man’s dead smile. Ever present under pinpricks of crimson in twin eyes of shadow.

The Chariot stepped forward, utterly uncaring for the man in front of him.

Salvare screamed his mentor’s name as the tunnel collapsed behind him.

Red fell, as the earth beneath him crumbled, conspiring against him as the man who was his greatest enemy paid him no mind.

…

Red blinked, gasping as he felt something shift in his body that probably wasn’t supposed to.

He felt a pressure on his side - Pichu - scrambling up onto his shoulder. He hissed slightly, but didn’t stop the mouse, instead pushing off of the ground in an attempt to stand.

He collapsed onto his knee, cursing, toppling Pichu off of his shoulder. Red heard Froakie croak behind him - frantic - while Charmander growled in agitation, puffs of smoke escaping his maw.

Red blinked as his senses began to return to him - his ears were ringing; a layer of crimson overlaid his vision - feeling the pain in his leg, his shoulder, and his gut.

Red first focused on his leg, knowing that leaving it damaged wouldn’t do him any good. He moved it a bit, hissing back expletives in another language - since when did he speak another language? - as pain flared up his back.

Definitely sprained; possibly broken.

The caves around him shook, small pebbles falling around them. The ravine they sat in shifted slightly, closer towards them, leaving them lesser room.

Red ignored this, going into survival mode - he had lived through worse; they had lived through worse; they would survive - and focused his aura with the singular drive of a madman, foregoing everything else in his mind and body as he gripped his leg, and demanded it to heal .

Within seconds, the pain in his leg left, though it did not do so cleanly. Rather than simply fading away, it travelled up his waist, into his gut, around his neck, and out of his head.

It felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to his skull.

Red bit down, hard , as sweat trickled down his brow - thankfully, Froakie had ripped off a wad of Red’s jacket and stuffed it into his mouth . Once the pain subsided - though the splitting headache remained - Red attempted to stand up once more, this time successfully.

The caves shifted again - closer - and Red saw a flare of blue as Charmander shot at the wall in panic. Rock and Ground beat Fire. Still, for all that Red could sympathise, they couldn’t afford to waste oxygen, “ Charmander, control yourself! ”

The lizard - dragon - scowled, but obeyed. Red turned to look up, pondering for a moment if they couldn’t just climb their way back up to-

The Chariot.

Red jolted in place, recalling the smile on the man’s lips as he sent them down here to die.

Yet, there was no gleam in the man’s eye. No recognition.

Something in Red’s mind clicked, and he gave a grim smile. The Chariot didn’t know who he was. It was rather obvious in hindsight, but for the past few months, Red hadn’t even considered that his mortal enemy no longer knew him.

Yes, yes. That’s all well and good, Red.

You still have to keep yourself from dying here.

Red turned briefly to Pichu - too small, ineffective this deep in the earth - before turning to Froakie. Motioning for Froakie to join on his shoulder, Red turned to survey his surroundings.

There wasn’t much, and Red could see that his surroundings were slowly closing in on him. There wasn’t any obvious path through the caves - the ravine was rather claustrophobic - instead, there were several small tunnels that seemed to have been carved by pokemon, in years and years past.

Red considered one such tunnel - just large enough for him to crouch through - with Froakie, whispering with slow breaths to conserve air, “I’m thinking we go in and see if it goes up. Wherever it goes highest, we can try to dig upwards with Water Pulse .”

Froakie nodded resolutely, seeing it as their best chance. Red beckoned Pichu and Charmander, placing the lizard in front of him with Froakie to light the way with his tail flame.

Red and his pokemon crept through the tunnels for several minutes, pausing anytime there was an earthquake. The tunnel went up and down as they traversed, never going much higher in elevation than they had been in the ravine.

After several more minutes passed, another, far more powerful earthquake shook around them. Red crouched to envelop his pokemon in his arms, keeping his body over them to protect them in the case that the tunnel collapsed.

Not that it would do anything but kill him first.

They all froze when the tunnel shook further, before a resounding echo came from behind them. Red grimaced as he and Froakie exchanged glances, both of them knowing that the ravine had just closed, trapping them in.

Once the aftershocks of the earthquake rescinded, the four of them continued, squeezing together as the tunnel became smaller, yet going upwards. The ground beneath them also seemed to become softer, patches of dry dirt replacing the rock underneath his boots.

After several minutes - in which Red noticed that his breaths were shorter - they reached the end of the tunnel. Red ignored Pichu’s agitated muttering, noticing a crack in the stone in front of him, one that showed darkness when Charmander’s tail flame came against it.

Keeping his breaths short, Red pulled back a touch, tapping Charmander on the back, “ Brick Break .”

Charmander gave a short nod, pulling back before crashing his body against the stone. The wall of the cave on the other side shook, but they still couldn’t get through. Red didn’t have to give a repeat command before Charmander reeled back once more, before ramming against the stone, crashing onto the floor of the stone chamber they had found.

The cave shook again as the rest of them crawled out of the tunnel, looking up as a small ray of light pierced through the stone ceiling.

The earth shook once more - was the Chariot still raging - and Red’s eyes widened as the stone above shifted, unstable above them.

Red began to give the order to go back into the tunnel when the earth shook violently , and the ceiling above them collapsed .

Not having time to think Red put his hands up, willing a repeat of whatever he managed back at the Lake of Rage. A flash of light - a warbling cry - reached the edges of his senses, and he collapsed as a great weight slammed against them.

And shattered.

Red quickly opened his eyes, feeling no pain. The stone that had fallen on them had shattered, surrounding them as he, Pichu, and Charmander stood up.

And with them, Frogadier stood taller, dust and gravel lining his bloody palms.

Red didn’t have the time to process Froakie’s - Frogadier’s - evolution, instead tensing as another boulder dislodged itself above them, and began to collapse.

“ Frogadier! ” Red yelled out, his partner snapping to attention, “ Together! ”

Without needing further explanation, Frogadier understood, mimicking Red’s ready position as the two of them braced themselves… and attacked.

Once more, the massive boulder erupted into pebbles, flying into the stone walls with such velocity that dents were left in the caves.

Red winded lightly, shaking his hands from sharing Frogadier’s pain. It was worth it, though, given that Frogadier didn’t show as many injuries from that boulder than he did the last one.

The light above them grew, patches of grass gleaming against the sunlight - though, the sky was darkening quickly; it must be dusk - and, though they still had no way to climb such a height - at least, not quickly - Red relaxed upon seeing that they were no longer in immediate peril.

Red glanced at Frogadier, taking the time to note the details of the frog’s evolution. Frogadier seemed darker than he had been before, almost appearing more black in colour than navy blue. Paired with the white frubbles around its neck, Frogadier striked an imposing figure, nearly standing taller than Red at his full height.

Red allowed himself a small smile as Frogadier observed his arms in wonder - at least something good came out of this - , “I’m very proud of you, your help today was invaluable,” Red turned his attention back up as his other two pokemon began congratulating Frogadier on his evolution.

Pichu was visibly jealous.

Red didn’t have much time to ponder his escape before he heard voices from above. It took him a moment to recognise them, which allowed him to relax when he heard one of the voices as Salvare’s.

The other voice was familiar too, in a way that was vaguely comforting to Red, “Hey! Is anyone down there!”

Red rather doubted they meant anyone other than him - though, he supposed, they could be referring to the Chariot; not that the man would need rescuing, he imagined - “I’m here!”

Red heard Salvare’s exclamation of surprise, and then relief - he could feel it in the air; Salvare was powerful with his aura - before hearing the other man’s voice call down, “Alright, give Trypani a moment to let you out!”

Red didn’t reply, instead calling his pokemon to him. Though it was safe to say that the man above them wasn’t hostile, it paid to be cautious - especially after what just happened . After a few seconds, the cave lightly shook before an Excadril broke through, shaking off dirt and dust as it peered at them, almost as if judging them.

After a moment passed, the Excadril nodded, as if satisfied, before jerking its head towards the tunnel it made, leading back up to the surface.

Red and his pokemon followed the pokemon, reaching the light of the surface just as the sun dipped below the treeline. Before Red could get a word out in thanks, he was shoved back as Salvare rushed forward to hug him.

Red blinked, automatically patting Salvare on the back. They stood like this before he heard someone behind them give a cough, prompting Salvare to push himself off with a muttered apology to the man.

Red frowned lightly at that, but turned around to face the man who seemingly saved him, before narrowing his eyes as the man in front of him paused, before moving the toothpick to the other side of his mouth with a smirk, “Well… I didn’t imagine ourselves meeting again like this, Red.”

Red felt an eyebrow rise, now recognising the man, “I didn’t really expect to meet you again at all, Herren,” Red winded slightly, realising how ungrateful that likely sounded, “Apologies, I’m thankful for the rescue. I am. It’s just… been a bit of a tough day.”

“I can imagine,” Herren replied dryly, his Yamask peeking shyly at Red from behind him, “All the same, it’s good to see you, despite the circumstances.”

Red made to respond, but Salvare beat him to the punch with a pointed scowl at Herren - which Salvare never did to anyone aside from him and Karen - “You know Red?”

Herren’s smile widened, though there was an interest that was poorly hidden in his gaze, “Yes, we met a couple of months back,” Herren crossed his arms as he nibbled on his toothpick, giving Salvare a small - almost fond? - smile, “I was the one to shape his ‘public’ identity, Salvare. Just as I helped you shape yours .”

…

Archived Audio Recording, December 29th, 1979

“Have you ever wondered why we are here?”

“You mean this mountain?”

“No…”

“I mean our purpose, in life… In death…”

“I mean…”

“I’m not much of a thinker, you know old man?”

“Momma didn’t raise no philosopher.”

“Uhuh, and did ‘Momma’ raise a dullard?”

“No, but she birthed one.”

“Listen, just - who the hell cares?”

“Life is life. Shit happens and we move on, y’know?”

“Hmm.”

“So I’m just supposed to take Her death and - what - move on?”

“Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I hate it when you twist my words.”

“Listen, She is different.”

“She…”

“We were family.”

“yet you don’t act like it.”

“Listen, old man.”

“Just because I’m not obsessed over her doesn’t mean I don’t miss-”

“Quiet!”

The individual - young, yet far older than he should be - immediately stops speaking.

He listens.

A hollow wave of discordant static.

Almost akin to a hollow wave.

…

Far-away sounds of people speaking are heard.

Almost as if it were heard on the radio.

The noise dims.

A low undertone of chimes ring upon the mountain.

“...It is gone now.”

“Fuckin’ Mew above, why did we decide to go to this place?”

“It’s spooky as shit.”

“I need answers.”

“Then why are we standing at the top of Sinnoh?”

“Shouldn’t answers be found, y’know…”

“At home?”

“Home…”

“It can never be home again.”

“If this is about fuckin’ Oak becomin’ Champion-”

“Oak has nothing to do with this.”

“Not specifically.”

“Then, what, are we just going to wander around and burn whatever we fancy?”

“I mean, they’re already calling that shit we did with Moltres the ‘Great Burning of Orre’, so-”

“THERE MUST BE PURPOSE!”

The voice is loud.

Demanding.

Pleading.

“there must be purpose…”

Damned.

Abandoned.

“We… I - there must be something here…”

“...I…I don’t think we’re going to find anythin’, old man.”

“All I’m seeing is broken pillars and broken dreams.”

“no.”

“I refuse.”

“My life, My love, My purpose was taken away from Me.”

“I demand to know why.”

“Not everything’s about you!”

“Just - fuck - you’re not the only one whose-”

The young man’s mouth is covered.

Harshly.

“There’s a presence nearby.”

…

…

“There.”

The man retracts his hands from the younger man.

“Man, fuck you!”

“You can cry all you want, but me? No! I’m never fuckin’ allowed-”

“Takashi.”

“shut your mouth.”

The boy narrows his eyes, and opens his mouth to speak.

The man simply looks at him.

The boy sees the shadow of destruction.

The boy does not speak.

“Look ahead, Takashi.”

“Do you see anything?”

“...”

“I see clouds.”

“Do you see anything along the pillars?”

“...”

“I see nothing.”

“Hmm…”

“...”

“I see you.”

The drone from earlier rises.

The being reveals itself.

“...What? What is that?”

“Unown.”

The drone grows louder.

The drone remains weak.

Dead, or dying.

There wasn’t much of a difference.

Not after so many centuries.

“What are you doing up so high, little one?”

“Do you need me to bring you back to your kin?”

The man’s voice was kind.

Kinder than it had been with the boy.

Yet the Unown did not respond.

Not verbally.

“Let me bring you-”

The man collapsed.

“Fuck - are you alright?!”

Even through the fear and hatred the boy felt for the man.

He still felt love for him, however mangled and twisted it was.

For now.

All the same, the boy scrambled over, and knelt beside the man.

The man opened his eyes.

The Unown was gone.

The man’s eyes stared past the boy, unseeing.

The man stands up.

There is something new in the man, something that makes the boy cower away.

The man stares beyond the cliffside to the clouds above.

“...Is that my purpose?”

The man’s voice is hallowed, hollowed.

“is. that. My. purpose.”

The man seems confused.

Scared.

Wrathful.

Yet all the same, he pleads.

“No… no, that cannot be it!”

“I refuse!”

“There must be more.”

“There must be more.”

“There must be more.”

“Y-you alright, old man?”

The man turns to the boy.

It almost seems as if the man sees him for the first time.

Insignificant.

“...”

“We are leaving.”

“I… This cannot be my purpose.”

“Not… all of it.”

“I must be missing something.”

“I-I’m sure.”

The boy was not sure.

The man turns to leave.

His eyes catch a glimpse of movement.

“you.”

A squeak of surprise.

And fear.

Another man, hiding, for he had seen what he was never meant to see.

“come forth.”

The man cowers.

“NOW!”

Two voices speak as one.

The earth shakes.

As if pulled by an outside force, the man walks forward.

He places his hand around the man’s throat.

“W-wait!”

“We don’t need to fuckin’ kill him!”

“or what, Takashi?”

“We let him go, after what he has seen, after what he has heard?”

“We can… I dunno…”

“Use Amnesia on him!”

“that is a mere temporary solution, one that I cannot rely upon.”

“You don’t need to kill him, you prick!”

“Takashi.”

“will you stand with Me?”

“or against Me?”

“...”

“...I…”

“...”

The boy turns away.

The man dies by his hands.

“it was necessary, Takashi.”

“...Like all death is.”

“...I… I know.”

“good.”

“let Us bury him, Takashi.”

“then…”

“then We will leave.”

“...”

“You’re the boss, old man.”

The boy’s voice is resigned.

In his confusion, the man doesn’t hear it as he normally would.

Instead, four words repeat themselves within the man’s mind, the man’s soul, the man’s lips.

“go forth, and conquer.”