Chapter 307 – Pact & Oath

Chapter 307 – Pact & Oath

Trigger Warning -

Spoiler

Grooming

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CHAPTER 307 - PACT & OATH

The transition between the unconsciousness of sleep and being awake was lethargic. There was this strange, ten-second or so period of time where my body moved, but I couldn't actually tell what was happening. My arm slowly crawled to the right of the bed, and it only reached more cold, wrinkled fabric. It moved around, up and down until I realized something.

Cecilia wasn't in the bed.

I jolted awake, blinking away the last of the tiredness as fast as I could. My body panicked before my brain realized that she might just be in the living room. There didn't look to be any sounds of fighting outside and she usually woke up far earlier than I did anyway. Wiping the corner of my mouth, my eyes glanced toward Cassianus, who hovered at the side of the bed with some book floating close to one of their eyes. As usual, they closed the book and chimed one of their morning hymns, a cheerful song that had been no doubt built to greet Kings and Queens of times past the moment they woke up. Sometimes, they played the sound of nature too, but I'd told them I liked music better.

Good morning, my King.

"Cassianus, do you—" my voice stopped when I realized it was slightly echoey. "...I won't ask why you put a barrier around me while I slept." My feet swept over the side of the bed, and my toes touched the edge of the shield. Cold, and hard as steel. "But why did you not let sound through?"

The psychic blinked, arms wobbling slightly to their side. I hadn't known Claydol as long as the others, and this rarely ever happened strongly enough for them to show it, but they were nervous. I apologize for any transgressions my barrier might have caused, they said with a slight trill in their usually smooth voice. The shield suddenly disappeared, though I didn't notice visually, but with sound slowly returning to my ears. Quiet chirps of birds beyond my window, the moving of vehicles clearing snow, and the frigid wind hitting the walls of the house.

I rubbed my eyes and rose from the bed. They floated out of the way. "So? Are you going to tell me why? I'm not mad, I just... you never do this. Where's Cece? She come back last night?"

There were traces of discomfort in their eyes, but they answered nonetheless. "I told her I would not say, but... the Queen came back last night looking extremely distraught." My heart sank, but I decided to let them finish. "She watched you sleep for five minutes and seventeen seconds, then asked me to make a soundproof shield around the bed. Should I have refused, she said she would have Slowking do it, and she was very, very threatening when she spoke, and I must obey the Queen, and—"

"You're alright," I said. "It's okay, baby."

They'd been moving erratically by the end, there. They'd dropped their book and nearly knocked the light off the bedside table. Any more and they'd have returned to their computer-like speech, which was something we'd worked hard to fix.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." My hand touched their body and caressed it, fingers tracing around the tough clay. "You only wanted to help, I... I was just stressed out. I am stressed out."

"I apologize regardless." Claydol's head bobbed up and down, and they levitated through the room. "The Queen was causing quite the ruckus in the house throughout the night, but I did not hear her leave again."

"Shit."

I quickly followed Cass and opened the door to the hall leading out of the bedroom.

And there was only chaos to be found. Not in the hallway itself, since it'd always been empty, but the counter that lay at its end next to the bathroom had been shattered, with splinters of wood and shards of glass from a mirror littering the floor. I'd been about to run in when Cass held me back and asked me to please put shoes on so my feet didn't get injured and reminded me that my ankle wasn't well enough to run yet, so I painstakingly, slowly walked through the corridor.

The walls themselves were fine, though I noticed there were dents here and there. I called out to Cecilia, but no answer came despite Claydol's assurances that she should be in the living room. We passed by the bathroom, which was also utterly destroyed. Tiles that had lined the walls in neat, orderly rows were now cracked and chipped, some completely dislodged, lying scattered on the floor like discarded pieces of a puzzle. The mirror was a web of cracks, its fragmented surface offering back a distorted reflection of the chaos and our faces. The shower curtain had been thrown to the floor, and the ceramic of the sink was chipped and cracked. As we reached the living room, I began to understand that she'd done this. Not her Pokemon, but Cecilia herself.

The pit of fear and anxiety that had been forming inside my stomach jumped up to my throat and made me exhale a groan. It was a physical thing, heavy and growing.

In the kitchen, drawers had been yanked open and their contents spilled in a chaotic cascade of utensils and knick-knacks that now littered the floor. Plates and glasses were a mess of porcelain and glass, with their pieces grinding underfoot with every step. Past that was the living room, where the television was still playing the distorted sound of the morning news with its light constantly flickering and its screen also neatly shattered. Pillows on the couch had been torn open, chairs were knocked down, a potted plant was uprooted from its broken pot...

Cecilia was there, sitting on the torn-up couch and watching the broken TV. Her dark brown hair was disheveled and wild, with pieces of broken wood still sticking through, and the clothes she'd put on last night were torn open. There was an area at least five feet all around her was still pristine and untouched by her rage, or maybe it had been cleaned up. She had bandaids all over her arms and hands. Maylene was looming over her in silence with her arms crossed along with Lucario, but she looked at me as soon as I entered.

"Cece— what happened here?" It hurt to even speak, and each word had to be forcefully expelled from my mouth. I took a few steps forward, debris crunching under each step. "What happened?" I asked again.

Cecilia answered, "Grace." Yet she was still not looking my way— still looking at the screen. "Good morning."

There was something in her voice that scared me. Like the building of a storm you knew would be bad, and despite the fact that it was still safe to go outside, it would not be for long.

"Erm, it might be better if I let you two speak." There was an uncomfortable shift from Maylene. Even though I could tell she was annoyed at this, she wanted to remain polite. "I'll get out of your hair, but my orders have me inside of the house now that Cecilia tried destroying it, just in case she hurts herself really badly."

A grimace crept up on my face, and I crouched in front of Cecilia. My hands settled on her lap, which she grabbed immediately and squeezed before relaxing slightly.

Maylene scratched her cheek. "So yeah, I'll leave you two to it." Before she made it to the door, though, she turned back toward us and inclined her head, along with her Lucario. "And I'm sorry."

The door closed, and silence returned to the home.

"Sit."

I looked at Cecilia, but before I could speak she repeated herself.

"Sit. Please."

I settled next to her, hands squeezing anxiously at the torn-up couch. This was so unlike her that I had no idea how to react. No, it wasn't completely unlike her, it was just that she'd never gotten angry enough to do something like this. To let go of every scrap of normality and civility that shackled her and allowed her instincts to take over. It had happened to me multiple times, but the targets of my anger tended to be far more focused. If I was a blade, Cecilia was a fire ready to burn anything in its path until she reached the source of her ire.

But what could have gotten her so furious?

Cecilia ran her hands through her hair multiple times until it was slightly straightened out and sighed. She leaned back against the backrest, her eyes glazed over with exhaustion, and she stared directly at the ceiling light above even though it was turned off.

"I wondered whether or not to tell you this last night— agonized over this while I watched you sleep." There was a slight smile on her face, but there was none of the usual warmth. It was full of nostalgia for a happier time, and that had me tense. "But it would be hypocritical of me, to keep this from you. We spoke to each other on the phone, when you confessed about what you did to Edward Backlot and to Maylene, and we said that there would be no more secrets. You deserve to know, but I'm sorry. I really am."

She took a deep breath and looked at me.

"Last night, I spoke to an ACE Trainer and found out that Justin was dead."

The world collapsed before me. The floor and couch were swept away from under me, the walls unraveled in a thousand layers and the air disappeared from my lungs. The narrative I had spent so much time spinning disappeared like a candle in the wind and reality swept over me like a hurricane. It carried me far, so far that it felt like I was suspended in the air. Falling until every part of me would be carved by the wind and rain, and there would be nothing left of me by the end. I tried to breathe, but could only cough as I gripped my shirt where my heart should be.

"Grace." The voice was distant.

I closed my eyes and I could still see his face, smiling as he showed me the book Louis wanted for his sanctuary. Him learning to reconnect with me after darkness had robbed his personality. How happy I felt when I realized helping him was possible, if he so wished—

Further back, still. Getting him to slowly open up to us, his dreams of improving human life, the day he had entered our tent and said he wanted me to teach him how to battle because of discovering how fun it was. Hopes, family, life, his Pokemon, the years ahead of him...

None of it mattered.

It hurt. It hurt like someone was gouging my heart out of my ribcage. It hurt like my lungs were being crushed under a hundred tons. It hurt like sharpened knives were covering every inch of my skin and tearing through my muscles until they unraveled like strings.

It hurt.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt—

A warm embrace wrapped itself around me. Flittering wind, a breeze gentle and warm enough to feel good on your face. "You will blame yourself for this," the calmed, fiery storm whispered in my ear. Maybe calm was the wrong way to look at it. It was frozen in time until it could be unleashed at whoever it pleased. "You will wonder what would have happened, had Justin been closer to you so you could keep him shielded, or had you convinced him not to go, or had you told him to release his Audino. You always do."

"Isn't all of that true?" I begged, voice quivering.

The storm wavered, but strengthened itself until it kept me from falling further. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. But you hold within your hands the sharpest of blades, love." It picked up, now, growing so loud I could barely hear the voice itself. "Do not point it at yourself."

"Who?" I rasped. "Who should I point it at?"

This bombing plan wasn't something Mars would do. She would complain about the killing being too impersonal... because she wouldn't be able to see the suffering in person. She was a very particular way of cruel I understood very well, and this wouldn't have pleased her. No, she would have gotten bored before she even began organizing the bombings, she was far more spontaneous. Had it been Saturn, then? Or maybe—

The storm raged. Thunder boomed above me, meteorites fell through the clouds and crashed deep below, creating shockwave after shockwave.

The world was ravaged.

"I will handle it."

It, as in thing, not as in the situation. The storm spouted so much wrath with that word that it even pained me despite it not being aimed at me. It made me want to cower, to hide to not get in its way, lest it sweep me away on the way to its target as well.CHeCk for new stories on no/v/el/bin(.)c0m

"But what I said remains," the storm said. "None of this is our fault. You understand, don't you? Team Galactic must burn, burn and burn until there is nothing left but ashes. Even if it is the last thing I do, be it because I die or the world ends."

"I... understand."

"So open your eyes. Open your eyes and face this."

Light blinded me.

Claydol chimed in worry, but otherwise stayed silent. They were not one to interject when they saw themselves as lesser, still. The problem was slowly improving, but nowhere near fixed yet.

The storm— Cecilia let go of the hug, wiped my tears with her thumb, and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the brightness morning brought again. My fist unclenched from my shirt and every heartbeat stopped bringing agony with it. It hurt, still, but it was enough to function. I'd said there would be no more moping, no more self-pity, but my friend was dead and he was never coming back. Arceus, and his Pokemon would be so devastated. Arcanine...

"Why did it have to be this way?" I asked with a trembling jaw.

"Because the world is cruel, and one must fight it if they wish to have a place in the sun. They must grow strong enough to impose their will upon everything the light touches no matter the consequences."

Be careful with that line of thought, part of me wanted to say.

But I did not say anything. Not for this. Not now. We would heal when this was all over, but the look on Cecilia's face told me nothing I ever said or ever could say would convince her otherwise, not that I wanted to try anyway.

"So— it was Jupiter, then."

Cecilia nodded, patting down her clothes so she could look presentable. "I will kill it." Her voice was as smooth as polished stone, calm and resolute. Assured. "It doesn't matter who I have to destroy in my path to do it or how much I have to toil, I will kill it on sight as soon as it shows itself."

That is where we differed.

The focus of our ire was on individuals, but she would blow everything away in order to get to her, because that was who she was and in her nature to do so, and I knew to keep myself honed in on who truly mattered. She dehumanized, whereas I knew the horrors people could bring, because they were people, no matter their origins. She would kill in an instant just to wipe out who could be a threat to the people she loved, not caring for the suffering of those who deserved it, whereas I wanted to draw out every ounce of pain to equalize their sins and make the world balanced again.

I swallowed the bile building up in my throat, but it kept coming.

She stood up. "Before I came back here, I asked the ACEs about it. They have information from Abel, who has been helpful in that regard." I scowled at the thought of him, which she didn't miss, but she simply inclined her head in apology. "I know how it behaves, the sick way it thinks, and I know of all of its Pokemon, since it led the attack at this lake."

I wanted to tell her to be careful, but we both knew what a fight like this would imply already anyway, and I had also embroiled myself in a vendetta against other Commanders. She offered me a hand. I took it, and she pulled me up. We were both in pain, but knew what had to be done.

"Did you tell the others?" I asked.

"Chase and Mira knew first. I was debating... telling Louis, but I had to. I couldn't leave him hoping, because delaying the hurt would be meaningless. It doesn't matter if we hurt him now, or two days from now if the world still exists, he will find out."

I sucked in air through clenched teeth. "But he's alone, Cece. He's alone in a bunker with no one to keep him sane. He doesn't have me to—"

To take the hurt away.

"You shouldn't have told him. You shouldn't have."

"I trust him," she simply said. "I believe in him."

I flinched away from her, inching away on the couch. "Don't act like I don't—"

"I did not say that you don't trust or believe in him at all, nor did I imply it," she hissed. "I simply have more faith in him than most."

"You didn't see him like I did. He was withering like a dying flower, he didn't come out of his room, he... he'd wished he had stayed in the dark instead of learning about the end of the world."

"And I know all of that."

"And you impose that knowledge on him anyway?" My eyebrows creased, and my foot pressed against a shard of screen on the ground. "Do you want to make him fight?"

"I don't think he will fight, no. He's a gentle soul, not at all like us. All his life, he pretended to be something he wasn't to please his father, and he's finally become true to himself."

I bit my lip, shutting my eyes and imagining the pain he must have been in. Him and the others. "What's done is done. What now?"

"You should call Maylene over, and then we'll ask her about what's happening outside."

"And then we wait."

She nodded. "Then we wait."

I shambled toward the door, with my legs still feeling slightly weak. The weightlessness that had spread through my body earlier had tricked my brain into thinking my body was heavier than it actually was, and my bad ankle wasn't helping. Seeing this, Cecilia and Cass joined to help me, with my girlfriend supporting me by the arm and the ground type brushing a slightly psychic force to my left to keep me upright. Two more, five more, ten more steps, and I was able to walk on my own without Justin's death pressing down on me as hard.

Before I opened the door, I looked back at Cece. I sniffled a few times before being able to speak again. "Did you get all the rage out of you?" My hand wrapped around the knob to stop it from shaking so much. "Uh, I mean, are you sure you're okay?"

"I—I'm sorry about that. It won't happen again, I just couldn't... I just couldn't keep it in. I tried, I really did, I managed to talk, to calmly get in the house and to warn Cass to let you sleep, but—"

"I understand."

She had to fix him, but she couldn't. Not here. Not when the world was fake.

She was but a floating torso and a head now, and circumstances hadn't given her much time, but there was nothing left to do but try.

Mira turned to Uxie, whose eyes were still sealed shut, and gave her pitch.

—

I opened the door to the cabin with tears still in my eyes from passing through the white arch to get here.

Getting here had been quicker now that I knew where to look and I hadn't gotten distracted by how alien everything was. The cabin itself had changed— or more like it had been filled in by things that had been missing beforehand. The layout was the same, with the coffee table low enough to be used while sitting on the thin carpet below despite the tiny chairs. There were pictures framed by wood, their image in black and white. Pictures of Mars smiling, sometimes with a Pokemon, sometimes with other people whom I had no idea of in locations unfamiliar to me. They were all laid out on a wooden dresser at the edge of the room, along with other nonsense like... physical badges I didn't recognize, jewelry, blades, and even a golden tooth. The cabin itself had been fixed from all the fighting I'd done, and there were no signs of a struggle.

Mars was there, her back to me, and she had one of the pictures in her hand— one I couldn't see.

"Where's Mesprit?" My voice boomed across the cabin's living room, and I took a second step. I pressed my weight on a chair leg with a foot and snapped it off after two attempts. It was firm in my grip, and I approached her... but she didn't even turn my way.

I was almost offended. Were we not sworn enemies— but it didn't matter. If she was just going to stare at pictures...

Pictures.

These were pictures of her before she'd lost her memories. Did that mean she used to live here...?

No matter how intrigued I was, the paint had overtaken my hands, now. This was a small cabin, so I assumed the tiny, cramped corridor next to her was the way to other rooms, like a bathroom or a bedroom of some kind. I tried making my way past her, chair leg ready to strike if she moved even an inch, but she just... let me through. Her face wasn't as dejected as I'd hoped from the fact that she'd learned she wasn't real. Instead, it was calm, almost happy as she stared at the picture of her as a child, smiling wide next to a birthday cake. This one too, was in black and white. It was almost unnaturally attracting my gaze, with how dim it was compared to the world itself.

What followed was exactly what I'd expected. A bathroom with nothing to write home about— I was surprised this place even had plumbing, but I supposed it did have a kitchen and a sink attached to the living room. What could be assumed to be the bedroom was locked shut. I rattled the handle at first, then pushed, then slammed my entire body against the wood.

It didn't budge.

I called out Mesprit's name, but there was no answer.

"They won't reply, since they no longer want to speak to you."

I flinched, knocking myself against the wall, and I would have fallen had I not held myself up. My arm swung wildly behind me but hit nothing. My eyes widened when her hand snatched me by the collar and pushed me against the ground. There was no pain, but the fact that she could actually touch me— that was— that was horrible news. My fist clenched around nothing. I'd let go of my stick.

"I don't want to fight." Mars crouched in front of me and smiled. "Not yet at least. I want to talk."

I groaned, kicking her in the shin, but she showed me there wouldn't be a repeat of last time. There would be no back-and-forth fight, no struggle, and I would not get the upper hand over her. Her leg didn't even budge, and she forcefully carried me back to the living room. I struggled, oh, I struggled, biting, scratching, tried to poke her eyes out, rip out her throat, punch her stomach— nothing worked. Something had happened for her and Mesprit to completely bond and now I was screwed.

Mars threw me onto the living room floor, and I tumbled a few times until my head hit something. It took a moment for me to realize it was one of the coffee table's legs. Mars sat to face me and calmly waited.

I shot up to my feet and ran toward that room again, but the result was the same. The door would not open. I picked up the stick from earlier and tried to use it to break through the wall instead of the door, thinking that it might have been some magic bullshit keeping me in, but wood against wood didn't work any better.

Fuck.

There was nothing else to do.

"You done?" Mars eyed me with a curious eye as I made my way back, and it took everything not to throw every insult I knew her way and not to flip the table in her face.

"So the caricature wants to talk to me?" I tried in hopes that instability would lead the door to open.

"Funny. That won't work anymore."

I bit my lip. No other leads, Grace. Let her talk. "So what, then?"

"I'm not real. I know that, now," she said with a sad smile. "I haven't talked to Dusky about it, but Cyrus told me everything."

"And you don't think he was fucking lying to use you like he's used you for years?"

Mars rolled her eyes. "Stop trying to split us apart. I wanted to thank you, and this is how you act?"

A scoff escaped my throat. "Thank me?"

"Well, you and Mesprit for opening my eyes. Everything makes sense, now."

This wasn't going well.

This wasn't going well at all.

I had no idea what Cyrus had put in her head, but there was no way I was going to be able to fight that off. Had he planned this— to own someone and have them bound so tightly that he could by extension control each Legendary to this extent? Last time, Mars' hold on Mesprit had been so much more unstable. There'd been weaknesses to probe at and insecurities to attack. I expected it could have been a little harder, but to the point of not even letting me see Mesprit? Mars continued rambling about how her mind was clear and how she appreciated me, and other nonsense while I thought up a strategy and acted like I was listening, because if we failed here...

It wasn't over, it was never over until I died, but it'd be the worst-case scenario.

"What did Cyrus tell you?" I asked.

She leaned forward against the table with a gleam in her eye that told me she wasn't used to people asking about her. There was no point in pretending to be friendly or to care about her. Mars wasn't stupid, she'd know it was a trick.

"What do I get in exchange?"

"What do—" I stopped myself and took a deep breath. There wasn't time to get angry. "Is there anything I'd be willing to give you that you would even accept?"

"Yes! When we meet in the real world, I want us to hang out for... thirty minutes before we fight. As sisters."

"Sure," I said. Sisters didn't have to be friendly. Sisters could kill each other, too, and who knew, maybe that was what sisterhood was like to me with her. She hadn't specified no Pokemon, either. Not that I wouldn't have lied to her anyway, even if it would have felt wrong. "Anything else?"

"Okay. It's a promise?"

"Promise."

For a moment, I thought she'd hold out her pinky, but instead she finally leaned back, and I realized how much pressure she'd been putting on me by just being too close. My shoulders untensed and I rubbed the back of my neck.

"I used to be dead," Mars said. "These pictures you see here, the trinkets, the cabin, it belonged to me when I used to be alive. Maybe my subconscious created it anyway, but only filled in the blanks after Cyrus spoke to me. I think the places we keep the Guardians are supposed to be important to us— but I digress!" She clapped her hands in excitement as if she was telling a story, and then repeatedly drummed them on the table. "Dusky brought me back from the dead! Me and my team!"

I used to be dead. The words bounced in my head over and over. The person I'd grown to be linked to was a ghost. Not a ghost type Pokemon, but a ghost. A revenant who came from a time past.

"I had the same reaction when he told me," she giggled. "Dusky tried to give me my memories, too, but he couldn't because it was too difficult and it had been too long, so he decided that we should have a fresh start. He kept them from me to protect me."

"To protect you? Come on, he did it to control you, Mars." If I wasn't going to get Mesprit out of this, then I at least wanted to plant seeds of doubt again that would hopefully last, this time. "There's no other reason to keep you in the dark."

"Well, Cyrus says that's wrong." Her face twisted into angry frown. "I'll talk to Dusky about it eventually, and I'll see what he says, but they wouldn't lie about that when I have control over one of the Guardians!"

Scratch that about her not being stupid. "You said you know deep down that Cyrus doesn't care about you. He's using you and your Pokemon as tools— you literally can't die!"

"Oh, we can die, it's just harder to kill us."

And thank Arceus for that. At least I knew, now.

"The point remains, you're an incredibly powerful trainer. Someone who's been kept in the dark like you are is easier to control. I would know. You should know."

"Then why would he tell me about it now?"

"Because you—" Deep breaths. Calm down. I grounded myself by gripping the table's leg so hard it shook. "Because you were asking questions, and it was the best way to keep the situation from unraveling at the seams! He doesn't even have to make a convincing story either, because he only needs you to be on his side for like twenty-four more hours!"

"You don't get us."

I gestured at her, trying to make sense of her existence. Was this what she was like, without being obsessed with cruelty and murder? It was like arguing with a damn ten-year-old! "There is no 'us' with you and Cyrus!"

Mars smiled, bright and true, like she was a girl in love and her eyes shone like the sun. "He kissed me."

Disgust flooded me, and for once— for once, I let a sliver of pity reach me. Pity that collapsed and burned to a crisp the moment I made sense of it, but it had been there nonetheless.

He had her.

And that is when I knew, despite the fact that the paint had still only reached my arms, that I would never win no matter how much time I had.

Time passed.

We spoke.

None of it mattered.

I slowly opened my eyes as cold wind prickled my skin and saw Uxie within Team Galactic's barrier. Mira lay by my side, on her knees and heaving with tears flowing down her face and freezing on her cheeks. Her hands— including her broken one— gripped snow through the agony movement brought and dug, dug and dug until Chase, Cecilia and a nearby ACE all restrained her.

Team Galactic disappeared, leaving Charon's Hypno behind.

It was either dead or unconscious due to the strain aiding Mesprit had put on it, along with the other psychics they'd brought.

"He used..." she choked. "He made her talk to me." Her words were barely coherent between sobs. "I'm so—sorry. She said things, and I know she wasn't real, and I was so close, but when she started talking I just— I couldn't make my chance count, I'm fucking worthless!"

I sat down in the snow, uncaring for the cold and wet, and a sigh left my mouth. I was too emotionally exhausted to offer any support that wouldn't seem fake, though I guessed with what Mars had told me about memories, Mira was talking about her mother, and I had no doubt Uxie would be far more proficient at bringing those to life.

It made me an awful friend. Chase was there, and Cece was trying her best, at the very least, but I just...

Long day ahead.

—

Hands.

Hands, hands, hands. They touched me under my arms, on my legs, my back, my stomach and knees. They covered me like a second set of skin, with constant assurances and voices buzzing in my ears like Cutiefly. Every time, I would answer with 'yes, I understand', and they would nod and keep going.

First, I stepped into my base layer, a second skin designed to wick moisture away while retaining warmth. Over this, they layered fleece for insulation, with its fabric helping against the biting cold. My outer shell was a fortress against the elements— a high-tech, waterproof, and windproof jacket and pants, their bright yellow colors a stark contrast against the dark within the caves. My feet were encased in insulated mountaineering boots that were just as heavy as they looked, with a certain rigidness around my ankles. There were gloves, too, thicker than I'd ever worn to keep me shielded against frostbite. On my head was a helmet with a light, and on my back, a backpack full of supplies, flashlights, hyper potions, batteries and ropes if I ever needed them. It was so large that it was nearly taller than I was, and I already knew I'd have to make either Honey or Angel carry it. The trainers around me tried to quickly teach me what everything was for, and I did my best to pay attention to every minute detail. 'Yes, I understand,' I said again.

Most importantly.

My backpack had a few oxygen tanks that I'd need if I didn't want to die near the summit, if we ever got that far, along with a dark breathing mask that looked like it'd fit right on a hazmat suit.

A voice among the sea of voices spoke out to me. "Your Pokemon should be able to handle the lack of oxygen better than you, but should it become a problem, you'll be able to share some oxygen with them using this." They handed— never mind, they strapped some other mask on my bag, this time, since it was full. "It's made of stretchable material and should fit on your Togekiss, Electivire and Turtonator's mouths, though obviously they'll go through oxygen much faster than you. The rest should be fine, even up the mountain. The ACEs will give you theirs and sacrifice themselves if need be, but if you're ever separated..."

"Yes," I calmly said. "I understand."

Around me, Cecilia, Chase and Mira were all being given the same speech. The same words, the same, countless hands, the reassuring smiles hiding terrified faces hoping, hoping we knew what we were doing, hoping that their families would be alive by tomorrow, hoping their dreams, goals and aspirations still mattered, hoping they would see the sun rise again.

Hands.

Hands and faces.

"Yes, I understand."

I understand what you want from me. I want that from me, too.

A one-eyed Alakazam strode into the room, spoons floating behind him. We'd been put in the headquarters of the lake, although a private room where only members of the League with a certain clearance could enter. I recognized him as Lucian's. His missing eye was a testament to how far Ditto technology had come, and what the Pokemon who had fought before its spread had missed. He scowled at me as soon as our eyes met, but it passed soon enough.

I shall bring you to the base of Mount Coronet, Alakazam said. His spoons softly dropped in his hands after he flexed them a few times. Any questions? No questions.

He'd barely let us speak, but to be honest, he was right. There were really no questions.

Let's go, then.

The cold was replaced by the heat of approaching summer, and I could feel the sun on my face again. I'd start suffocating in this getup soon, but I knew the mountain would grow cold only a few minutes inside, and putting this on had already taken ten minutes, so I wasn't taking it off again.

We came face to face to Mount Coronet, along with a makeshift camp at this entrance, which was... near Celestic, if that fog I could see far off in the distance wasn't just me going insane.

Rugged stone and jagged edges. Mourning like they were alive.

It stretched so tall. Up, and up, and up, and—