In the midst of his sleep, George stirred on his mossy bed. Deep within his mind, a bright and cloudy skyscape stretched out before him, a fragment of all the tantalising images that existed in his dreams. He wasn’t much of a dreamer, but no harm could come from a vivid imagination.

For George however, all the dreams that came to him weren’t imaginations at all.

In the span of a few seconds, the echoes of a voice closed in. Clouds ahead of the Dewott parted, hiding a setting sun in the process.

Well met, George. It has been a while.

Ears flat against his head, George turned his back to the voice, or where he heard it come from. Which wasn’t from all directions this time.

‘Not long enough…’

Hm? What’s with the sour mood? asked the voice. I am all ears to your struggles, George. I take your emotional state very, very seriously.

Something pointy prodded George’s back, as if a fingernail was digging into his skin. For a brief moment, George pretended it was Blitzer being careless with his claws. A Charmander at heart, no matter how much he grew. But that was far too warm of a memory. He groaned.

‘Stop lying to me. You know what happened.’

Know what? The voice cracked. It sounded as if it struggled to keep things together… and not out of empathy, either. George couldn’t put his finger on why. If only there was a face attached.

‘Do you really need me to repeat? You’ve been keeping an eye on me for how long now, and you still think it’s funny to act like you were born yesterday. I don’t know what you are, or what you’re trying to accomplish - just stop it already!’

The voice sighed. If you insist… something involving the great battle for Luminity City not going as planned. In all the worst ways, perhaps? It spoke, the intonation rising towards the end.

George folded his arms without his mouth budging. ‘Yeah. I woke up that morning, I proceeded to Luminity with the whole Alliance, we get to the centre of Luminity and I see the Queen for the first time… after weakening her with the flute, and I don’t know how I managed to weaken her to begin with, besides playing a song. Anyway, Artanouk killed her, suddenly turns into a damn Anomaly right in front of me, sics the whole Alliance on me and Blitzer. We get separated, I end up fleeing the city, haven’t seen him since.’ He kicked his feet into the clouds. ‘There. There’s your recap.’

Fascinating, the voice replied, once again in a tone so overly upbeat that the hairs on the back of George’s neck stood upwards. Pray do tell… when King Artanouk revealed himself, did you see anything else peculiar?

George groaned, his tail now smacking the clouds. ‘The sky, of course. Unless you want to tell me it’s supposed to turn purple.’

Interesting, the voice replied. Did it happen to resemble something like this?

The moment the voice’s many echoes stopped, the great blue yonder dimmed. In the blink of an eye, the sky became sick with the purple disease. The same affliction which had corrupted the real world; from the horizon to the clouds he stood on, everything tinged with the same corruption. George stood in the centre of it all.

And his heart sank as quick as the sky discoloured.

‘You…’

Well?

The words to describe the emotions rushing through him were lost in the chaos. George struggled to breathe. He didn’t even breathe in his dreams. Why would he need to? Yet his throat narrowed as if toxic fumes were pouring through. As if he were rotting from the inside out.

A chill seeped into him through both shoulders.

It felt as if a ghastly presence were weighing them down.

George’s feet shuffled as he turned around, his ears twitching back and forth. He grimaced. Or so it felt from the inside. The Dewott had no mouth.

Just a face with eyes and a nose.

Upon completing his turn, he ended up face to face with a massive pair of red eyes, and two red-tipped tendrils connecting him with the demon in the dark. George said nothing. Did nothing. For a brief moment, felt nothing. But after a fleeting moment of confusion, followed by the horror of comprehending what stood before him, a thought crept into the back of his mind.

They had met before.

Aww… you just cut me off in the middle of my act! I specifically rehearsed for this, you know!

The voice in the darkness giggled. Like a little kid caught playing a prank, if the little kid in question was a monster. As if to rub it in, the two tendrils tapped up and down on George’s shoulders. He flinched. It felt repulsive.

Horror turned to humiliation, which turned to bitterness. George’s mouth was as frozen as ever.

‘You… the whole time you’ve been the same…’

Same as what? The voice asked, laughing. The tapping tendrils switched to George’s arms, and went from up and down to left and right.

‘The SAME VOICE!’ George shouted. It sounded more powerful in his head. ‘You’re the exact same! Mister happy-go-lucky finally reveals himself!’

You have to admit, it was a pretty good disguise, right? I mean, it took you this long to figure it out! But hey, look at it this way, George: You actually managed to figure me out a little. So on that note, pleased to meet you again! Did you guess my name yet?

The red glow from besides George intensified, as an itch flared up on the back of his neck. It felt slimy. Could’ve been nerves, or another tendril. Whichever the answer, The Dewott shivered at the prospect of discovering it.

‘Why don’t you tell me. Or better yet, why don’t you get it over with? Since that’s obviously what you’re here for…’

Get it over with? Ooh, sounds like you’re figuring more out! the voice responded, the smile audible in the words. Go on!

George clenched his fist. ‘To kill me.’

In response, the dark voice wheezed out in laughter, the tendrils and eyes recoiling in the process. Wh- kill? I don’t want to kill you! Why would I? What would I even do if you weren’t around? You’ve been a blast to deal with, George! You make the gods look boring in comparison!

‘Then what the hell do you want from me?!’ George shouted, his voice again weak.All the laughing and fake praise only made him feel smaller. The idea he was on any even footing was a joke in and of itself. He was nothing. An insect before a god. A little insect festering in a fetid swamp.

Oh. It’s simple. The tendrils and eyes crept in closer, a serpentine outline manifesting in the glow. All I want is for you to-

Live…

Die…

Go…

Suddenly, the dark world fell apart. It was ripped in half and torn asunder, the figure in the dark turned into a reddish static.

Find…

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Be wiiiiith…

Aaaa…

White noise drowned out the voice, as the static took the dream world by storm. All the black void fell into the static. Suddenly George’s head throbbed. It was as if he’d been hit over the head and left to his fate, his attacker unknown.

“...he must be waking up. Where did you keep the Chesto again?”

“In the front pouch, not far from the Cheris. George? Can you hear me? George!”

As the static cleared from his eyes, the first thing he saw was the head of a Gardevoir, the sun shining at her back. George was laying on grass, his arms and legs shivering from the cold. And the aching throbbed unabated in the Dewott's head, pounding his skull as if it were a drum.

“Quick,” the Gardevoir said. “Mix them!”

“Give me a moment here… there. These fat fingers are good for something.”

“As if you haven’t been turning lights off with them for years… alright, give it here.”

The Gardevoir received a colourful mush from a grey hand, which she brought up to George’s mouth. A careful tug on his neck raised his head a little before she fed it to him. He needed not to chew; the mush had the consistency of porridge.

George convulsed as the mixture went down his throat, struggling to get himself upright. It wasn’t long before Terez and Hein held him still, then gradually eased him up against a tree. The Dewott gasped for a minute, as the effects of the berries worked their magic: First the convulsions stopped, then his limbs remained still. He took a deep breath, before the headache faded.

“Ggh… gggghhh…”

“Easy now…” an ominous voice echoed nearby. George’s ears twitched; it might’ve been unsettling, but at least he recognised the speaker.

“Do you hear us, George?”

Terez’ voice soothed his ears somewhat, enough to make him place a hand on his chest. He felt the rhythm of his heartbeat as his lungs expanded and contracted, his body returning to a healthy state. Nevertheless, a remnant of the headache lingered, the struggle to clear that which he’d seen raging on.

George sucked in a breath, leaning his head against the tree bark. “Yes, I hear you. I hear you both.”

“How do you feel?” Terez asked, placing a hand on the side of his head. She used no psychic abilities as she stroked her fingers through his fur, her hair fluttering in the breeze.

“Terrible,” the Dewott responded, fidgeting with his fingers. “Like I’ve been run over by a truck.”

Behind the Gardevoir, Hein kept his hands behind his back, the wispy end of his body wavering back and forth. “In a way, you have. Given who you’ve met.”

George frowned at the Dusknoir. “How do you know ‘who I met’?” he asked, fists clenched. ‘And how do you even know what a truck is?’

Hein tilted his antenna skywards. “When foreign presences manifest, it doesn’t take more than a keen eye to notice,” he said, pointing at his. “Given that we have more than a keen eye, we know about who paid you a visit. But please. Do enlighten us from your perspective.”

With a nod, the Dusknoir gave George the next word. The Dewott sighed, and looked away. “I’ve been having these dreams for a while now. Dreams in which a voice speaks to me… in most cases, it starts with me waking up in the clouds. Bright blue sky, sunlight… call it heaven, if you will.”

“And what did he talk to you about?” Terez asked.

“Support…” George mused. “I don’t know what to call it. Some kind of vague talk about destiny, and what path I’m on. It was bizarre, to say the least. He never revealed anything about himself, until now.” He took a deep breath, then sighed it out, before rubbing the top of his head with a single hand.

“The truth is… for the longest time, here were two voices. The voice I mentioned earlier, and a… nightmarish one, if you will. I don’t know how else to describe it. Instead of heaven, I’d see nothing but black in front of me. As if you’re deep underground without a light. Worse, this other voice actually had a body. Big red eyes. Massive tentacles with red tips. Looked vaguely snake-like.”

Hein leaned forward. “Go on.”

George clicked his tongue. “You know the stories of ‘the devil’? It’s a human legend. Good and evil, and the devil is evil. Hell, you can even hear it in the word, ‘devil’.” He paused to swallow. “But this devil… sounded like one big prankster. Like he was having fun with me the whole time. Always laughing. Said he didn’t want to kill me. Apparently I’ve been too much fun for him.” He shook his head. “Then you guys woke me up.”

Terez shot a glance at Hein. “Do you think it’s the right time…?”

Hein shrugged. “It’s long overdue. He’s been in the dark for far too long. The die has long been cast.”

The Gardevoir nodded long and deep enough to resemble a short bow. She pressed the fingers of her free hand against the side of her head, the wind sweeping past the three of them moments later.

“Then it’s time. George. Are you familiar with the concept of ‘The Renegade’?”

A chill went through George’s body. The name sounded familiar; a little too familiar. “Maybe. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that term, I think… Don’t know why. You or Hein might’ve mentioned it once, but I’ve heard it before,” he said, fidgeting with a scalchop. “But that’s all I know.”

Day’s first sunlight shone through the trees as Terez stood up. In spite of the dawn, the purple tint in the sky did not fade. “It’s a long story,” she said.

“Hold it,” Hein spoke, his voice carried far in the wind; several dead leaves flew past him as he held a hand out to the dawnlight. “We’d best get moving. It will only be a matter of time before the Corrupted discover us here… and we have business to tend to. George, are you able to walk?”

George groaned out in frustration. “Yes. My legs work fine, thank you very much.”

The Dusknoir nodded. “Good. Then we better get moving.”

In the span of a few minutes, George went from sitting upright to following Terez and Hein over a landscape of plains and streams, one whose cool breeze and tall grasses brought about a cosy sense of nostalgia. Pinpointing the magic was not in the cards, however; the little aching in his head made short work of thinking that deep into the natural, and having to keep his ears pried open took up the rest.

Ultimately, he was left muttering to himself in frustration, pressing a finger into his forehead.

‘No thinking, no relaxing, just walk. Walk and listen. ‘Cause that’s all you’re good for, George. Idiot.’ He smacked his own cheek while Terez wasn’t looking. ‘Why is your life like this?’

“So then, the Renegade,” Hein continued. “Do you have your own theories?”

“No,” George deadpanned. ‘I barely knew it was a thing before…’

Hein floated on. “In that case, let us start at the beginning. You’ve known there’s more than meets the eye to Eravate for a while now. Think of the Mystery Dungeons. The ‘Anomalies’, as you call them. The many myths and legends about a… ‘death cult’, and all the great many evils they unleashed on this world. And yes, the reason why Artanouk’s Alliance came into being. The Renegade is the root cause behind them all,” the Dusknoir explained, his ectoplasm twitching as he went over a hill. “Without the Renegade, Eravate wouldn’t be quite so ugly.”

“Right…” George replied, dragging his feet through the grass in pursuit. “And how do all of those relate? Because that’s quite the list. You sure you want to point the finger at this… ‘Renegade' as the reason behind everything?”

Terez slowed down to walk alongside the Dewott. She cared little for the flora her dress got stuck on, no matter how many stains got on there. “You’ve seen for yourself what he is capable of, haven’t you? He’s gotten into your dreams, George. In a vivid manner that even the most powerful psychics cannot begin to comprehend. Even a ghost cannot penetrate that deep into the mind. Nothing is supposed to. Has anything else managed this in your life?”

“No?” George said with the flick of his ears. “Still, that’s just dreams. How does that relate to a death cult, and Artanouk? I’m not saying you guys are wrong, but I need answers here.”

“Perceptive,” The Dusknoir mused out loud. “George, you can be assured of one thing. You are not the only one whose dreams it has been visiting. Far from the only one. Think of Artanouk. The King. Even the former Queen, Patrina. Even us.”

George raised an eyebrow. “You were contacted?”

“Indeed we were,” Terez said. “In different circumstances, of course. For me, it was… not too long after I first joined Artanouk’s Alliance. He was hoping to hijack my talents for his own ends, but… I had serious reservations about it, to put it mildly. But I digress. The point is, the Renegade contacted me too. I managed to block him out with some help from him, but it took much,” she explained, stretching a hand out towards Hein, the grass in front of the Dusknoir pulling aside.

Hein conjured up a ball of shadows, then sent it out over the plain. An Anomalied Stantler was in the way, though not for much longer.

“It’s a longer story on my end, George. But from the moment I was contacted, I had my suspicions. Turns out those suspicions were all too warranted,” he said, shaking his head. “George. That death cult I mentioned earlier… the followers of Yveltal. They, unfortunately, are all too real. And I… have a personal history with them.”

The Dusknoir’s eye flashed blood red, before he twisted it back in front of him.

George bit his lip.‘I can imagine.’ “Did they take something from you?”’

“You could say that,” Hein deadpanned, the maw in his chest opening slightly. “Nevertheless… for years, it was believed their God acted on its own accord. But he did not.” He shook his head for a second time. “Yet another tendril of the Renegade. Much like how Artanouk was contacted, Yveltal also had a ‘chance meeting’.”

“How do you know all of this?” the Dewott asked, his tail lowered. “Do you have any proof?”

Hein crossed his arms. “Far wiser Pokemon than either of us have studied what has happened. Those who live among us have noticed the connections. The corruption. The links. The ‘modus operandi’, as the humans call it. It all… fits together.”

“In Yveltal’s case, he was driven mad by the whispers,” the Dusknoir said. ”Went out of control, or so we thought. But he was only acting under the Renegade’s influence. Artanouk is the same, albeit far more disciplined. Orderly enough for his followers to not harm the innocent without reason. The ferals in the Mystery Dungeons? The same influence, just far weaker. Or rather, turn them far more vicious.”

“Right, right…” George sighed, rolling his eyes. ‘I’m supposed to take his word for it, I guess.’

Terez put her hands together, and closed her eyes. “Did you see what became of the Alliance back in Luminity? The black glow, much like the Anomalies in the Mystery Dungeons?”

George nodded, his ears twitching backwards from a bird starting its song behind them. The ground under his feet was marshy, the touch of cool water relieving him a little. “Sure did… It’s one of the first things I noticed. Right when Artanouk… turned right in front of me.”

“And do you think that’s only a coincidence?” Terez asked.

“Not in a million years,” George said. ‘That’s a lot more like it… wonder why Hein didn’t just start with that.’

A weak smile appeared on Terez’ face. “Our point exactly, George. That is the true nature of what we are up against. The Renegade… is everywhere. He has been lurking in the shadows for decades now, slowly moving his pawns across the board. And now he is ready to checkmate all of Eravate.”

George glanced over his shoulder; for a moment, it was as if the darkness in the sky stared back at him. He cringed a little.

“There’s… one more thing I want to know, actually. You say this Renegade has been planning this for decades. What does he want?”

Hein shook his antenna. “I’m afraid that is something only he can answer. All we know is that a world of his creation is a nightmare for us all.” All of a sudden, a bright red flash passed through his eye. “We must work to stop it.”

‘Little late for that.’ George took a deep breath. “Right then. So… how do we plan to stop him, exactly? You say this has been going on for decades, but we’re now at the point where we’ve pretty much lost.”

“Much was sacrificed to get here,” Terez explained. “And we could not just intervene wherever. We were far too few, and the measures far too drastic.” She took a deep breath as she spun a finger around, a tiny ball of psychic energy forming at the end. “We did what we could. But now that the Meowth is out of the bag, so to speak… drastic measures won’t be an issue any longer.”

“Not something to get excited over, is it?” George asked.

“Silver linings, George. Silver linings.”

“Right…”

They wandered on for several minutes through the plains, skipping over streams and ignoring the ferals as best they could; most scurried away at first sight or sound. All the while, as cold winds swept across, George kept thinking of new questions to ask. He was nowhere near the bottom of everything. Not yet.

“So… I am the Othersider, right?”

“Yes,” Terez said.

“And is that why the Renegade has been talking to me?”

“You were sent here to stop him,” Hein continued. “You can play the Azure Flute. Of course he would take an interest in you.”

George took in a deep breath, then sighed it out. “Again with that ‘Othersider’ nonsense…”

Hein echoed out a grumble. “Call it nonsense all you like. There is no removing yourself from this, George.”

The Dewott kicked a rock away. “Wish I wasn’t just ‘The Othersider’. I want to be more than just… the guy who got sent here against my will. I never asked for this. I never earned it. I just… ‘am’.”

Terez got on a knee beside him. “It cannot be easy. But you do have value. And it isn’t hidden deep within you, either. Believe me.”

“I don’t know anymore,” George said. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Ahem!” Hein shouted out loud. “I beg your pardon, but we still have a great distance to cover. Plus, we have something urgent to discuss. Greenfield is not far from here.”

George raised an eye. “Greenfield?”