Distortion III

A/N: General trigger warning, this chapter gets somewhat dark and some scenes might be unpleasant to read.

DISTORTION III

The cold, dead air rushed past Garchomp's scales, seemingly doing everything in its flimsy power to slow her down. Ordinarily, this would have been the second, no, the third best feeling in the world, right behind battling an equal foe and Cynthia massaging her scales after a long day spent training or battling. Flying so quickly the beautiful world below passed you by in an instant was one of Garchomp's pleasures in life, but this world was anything but pretty. With squinting eyes protected by a thin, transparent membrane, she scanned the terrain below her. Even at the speeds she was going at, the dragon found no difficulty taking note of any interesting features she saw. An upside-down mountain constantly spewing smoke out of the crater at its summit was her most recent interesting find, but she passed it in only a few seconds as a shockwave rattled her scales and made her ears painfully pop. Normally, they would have been closed off to protect her while she flew, but she was desperate to hear one of her teammates— or more importantly, her sister call her.

There had been nothing so far but wind and pests complaining in her ears.

Even now. Garchomp felt the weight of the dead press down on her back. She heard the constant screams, the aching jealousy, the need to dig at pain in her past to make her relive it all over again. The first time, it had worked. She'd luckily crashed into a wooded area a few miles below her due to how unexpected it had all been, but she'd caught herself and only hit the ground fast enough to bruise. Garchomp had only been truly terrified a few times in her life. The first time they'd met Spiritomb at the bottom of that well shortly after Cynthia had become the Champion had been one of those times. In a way, Spiritomb's mere presence worked like this place, only on a smaller scale and less intense. She had grown used to it, after so many years.

The second instance, it had annoyed her and forced Garchomp to fly slower. The third time and beyond?

Draconic energy coursed through the dragon type's body like gushing water, bursting from the narrow gap in her scales. The air around her shimmered as the raw power of draconic forces surged from deep within her core. Ghostly visages in the corner of her vision turned from twisted pleasure to a mix of anger and apprehension; screams meant to remind her about the fear she'd felt in her life slowly shifted to reverence. Memories of her fighting that Zangoose as a baby alone with Cynthia, burned within her mind and turned into proof that she was just better. Today, it was like breathing to her, but it took a complex process to truly master. With a final flex, she expelled all of it at once. It was enough to make the living die from her mere presence, if they were astronomically weaker than her. For these spirits? They simply stopped clinging to her scales and allowed her to keep going.

Every energy, I've found, can serve multiple purposes, and they have overlap with each other, her sister's younger voice rang out in her head. Garchomp could still smell the old paper Cynthia kept her thousands of pages of notes on. Luckily for you, you only have to worry about one thing. You're a prodigy at making people bend to your will, but it won't be enough for this fight. The calculus is simple, really. For us to win against Radetic, you have to become indomitable.

And that is what she would strive to embody.

Still, there was nothing. She'd been looking for hours now as fast as she could, and there was still nothing. They'd all been close, when that massive thing had draped its wings over them, but they'd been scattered all throughout the Dusk. With her speed, she could cover a lot of distance, but she had to look everywhere, not just in a flat plane, and Spiritomb had been annoyingly closed off whenever anyone asked anything about the Dusk. Not that they'd died many times anyway.

Angry at her lack of progress, the dragon flattened her wings against her sides and threw herself into a dive. She heard the quiet wind whistle past her ears until she entered the ground of an island like it was liquid. She emerged from the bottom in a burst of dust, rocks and angry echoes of the dead. It was time to turn back and search the perimeter lower in the Dusk. It was possibly going to take days, but eventually, she would find someone. There was only so far they could have gone.

At least the brat had probably found someone by now.

...maybe it'd be best to stay still for a few minutes to give him time to find her, if he'd been looking for her. Actually, knowing him, Garchomp was the one he would attempt to find first if he couldn't catch or distinguish Cynthia's emotions due to the Dusk's effects. Garchomp dove again, but this time, it was to land. Her arrival created a small crater in the platform that lashed back out at her with pulsating red light— she roared at it until her chest vibrated and heated up with draconic energy, mostly in frustration at her lack of progress, but it didn't flinch back. It wrapped around her ankles in an attempt to drag her down until she clawed it apart, again and again. Her arms blurred, the ground shivered at each strike and turquoise light raked across the earth with every Dragon Claw, but the ground wouldn't let her go.

She'd had enough.

In a second, she could feel every inch of ground below her. She could push and pull, vibrate the earth together into massive Earthquakes—

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Something squeezed Garchomp's heart. An invisible force that brushed against the organ with a delicate touch that she intrinsically knew could be deadly. In a flash, she saw a shadow in the corner of her vision that was gone as soon as she noticed. It was a feeling, that lingered as soon as the moment passed. The sensation of long, clawed tendrils grazing past her scales and into her flesh. The pain that had left as soon as it had come, and the forgetfulness of what she'd seen left Garchomp shaken. There was a gap in her memory, but that absence was just as terrifying to her as the alternative. The ground type stayed there, frozen, feeling like a child having been caught disobeying their parent.

That—

That had been no spirit. No jealous echo attempting to drag her into the maw of death.

Garchomp found it better for her sanity to move on as best as she could. And to listen, of course. If she didn't, well—

There was always someone stronger than you, and her instincts screamed that she could be eradicated with a single look. Blinking to unblur her vision, she saw a flicker of white in the sky, like a blinking light. As much as it pained to admit her, seeing the brat appear in this instant had her relax just a tiny bit. The flickering surprised her, though. Togekiss was nearly as fast as her when he slipped away from the world, and this would just slow him down. She'd been ready to scold him, but the reason became apparent as they drew closer. A tiny gust of blizzard was following close behind him.

Of course, Glaceon was here too. Leave it to her luck to have the two most annoying members of her family find her first. Why couldn't it have been Lucario or Braviary?

Togekiss landed next to her without a single sound and a bright smile. Even his presence soothed her a little bit, despite the fact that there was only so much he could do in the Dusk. Glaceon was the third fastest flier in the team, so keeping up with Togekiss wasn't much of an issue. Snow compacted into crystalline ice, which came together and rebuilt Glaceon. The ice type stared off into the distance at nothing in particular. She tended to be distant and disconnected, after transforming for too long.

You've been making quite the emotional commotion. Togekiss smiled and patted the dragon on the back with a wing. She brushed him off. That pulse of fear I felt coming from here was great at getting us to find you! It's a good thing you were so terrified, but I wonder, the fairy type paused, what's got you so scared? Your legs are still trembling.

Garchomp glared at him. Oh, she knew he didn't mean to press her buttons. There was unfortunately not one mean bone in the brat's body, and he was genuinely curious.

Felt something warn me when I'd been about to destroy an island with an earthquake, she dryly said, turning away from them due to the slight embarrassment. She was the leader of the team. Scared wasn't supposed to be in her vocabulary. It's difficult to remember. Don't mention it again. The sooner I forget, the better.

Are you going to be okay? Do you need a little help from yours truly? Togekiss' peaceful aura intensified mildly. It was what he always did to get Cynthia to sleep. We need to take a break regardless. Glacia's still a bit out of it.

Glaceon blinked when she heard Togekiss' name for her, but she did not react.

No, I'll be fine. I need to fight something, she complained. Nothing like the thrill of the hunt to get her going.

Well, you'll be happy to know that I know where Cyrus and his gathering are! Togekiss' wings flapped excitedly.

Garchomp grinned. Good job, brat.

Finally.

Some action.



What had been the odds of finding Cyrus and his ilk without that annoyance Spiritomb to yell at her? High with Togekiss, apparently. He wasn't a baby anymore, but it was difficult for her to think of him as anything other than an annoying infant who had always wanted attention or to train with her. After glancing at Togekiss overhead, Garchomp stomped her way toward the edge of the island, at a craggy cliff that was too straight to be natural, and her eyes narrowed at the group below her. The human who'd caused her sister so much trouble was sitting right there, arms outstretched as if the Dusk was a pleasant place and not just an annoyance. With him were his Pokemon—

Weak.

Weak was the first thing she noticed, compared to her, at least. She felt it deep in her flesh, that she would be able to win in a fight against each and every member of his team. A rather large Absol whom had spotted her instantly, a Honchkrow flying a few feet above the man himself, a Crobat hanging onto his shoulder. Then, the rest of his Pokemon were a little separated. A Gyarados was slithering against the ground like a snake, patrolling the edges of his massive platform. Garchomp couldn't make out what Pokemon was last, however she was certain that something else was lurking in the shadows within the small woods to the island's east. A Houndoom was his last companion, the second one to notice her. This one barked and alerted the others.

Garchomp was many things, but she wasn't good at hiding like Glaceon or Togekiss. She felt a chill, and then a small cloud of blizzard spread out next to her, compacting into tightened shards of ice that once more turned into Glaceon, whose back arched as she lazily stretched from the tiny amount of exertion. Togekiss landed to her right without a sound, flickering back into view.

What's the verdict? Togekiss hummed in his usual sing-song voice. Even the Dusk couldn't turn it into something that unpleasant.

The ground type quietly observed Cyrus' Pokemon, who were in the process of spreading out into some kind of formation, tight at the back to protect Cyrus, with the speediest members in front being more spread out. It was a large island, after all. One mile, maybe one and a half. She wasn't good with measurements. There was a small, dense forest to the east where that final Pokemon still remained concealed, flatlands in the center where Cyrus stood, and a strange undulating hill to the west that reminded her of waves in the ocean where Gyarados was currently stationed. She'd never really been one for tactics— or she had been, but those were no longer really necessary given the number of brilliant minds better than her in her family. Her so-called opponents were silent, watching them with wary eyes and clearly expecting the worst.

Cyrus didn't even bother paying any attention to them. That ticked her off, some, but not enough to set her off like it might have, once.

I could go in there and handle them myself, Garchomp finally replied. There was an understanding between them, that Garchomp was simply the best at gauging strength. But I'll take Glaceon with me just in case it gets dicey.

Of course you'd take me, the lazy thing complained with drooping ears and a drawn out yawn.

Garchomp did not deem that worthy of an answer.

Togekiss' wings tightened to his sides. I suppose you'd have me look for the others, then.

Well, of course. Garchomp just grunted, again not even bothering with a response. The little upstart was smart enough to know that he was the only one of the three capable of finding his mother and their companions. Lucario would be second, but they had no idea where he was and while he could fly, he'd do a pisspoor job of it here, where conditions were so unstable.

Togekiss sighed. Fine. Discourteous as always, even when we're in the literal land of the dead.

Glaceon strolled toward Togekiss, rubbing her cold body against the flying type's feathers as a farewell. As Togekiss spread her wings, Garchomp growled, still not looking at him behind her.

Be careful, she warned.

This time, she deigned to glance.

Togekiss' eyes fluttered. Was that worry? he gasped. Glacia, did—

Don't let it get to your head, the dragon interrupted. Her foot shifted against the ground as she prepared her jump. Now scram before I eat you and leave nothing behind but your bloodied fur. That used to work, when he was a baby.

Now? He just laughed and took flight without a single vibration in the air.

My dear family, I leave you with this! he screamed.

Yet she could barely hear him. Glaceon whispered a complaint about Togekiss showing off too much, and for once, Garchomp agreed with that hellion. The fairy type flickered in the ominous winds—

And disappeared without a trace. Garchomp's brain desperately clammored that he had never been there despite her knowing that the opposite was true. Belief was a powerful force that could spread to others, even if she had long gotten used to his crap. Usually she could just beat it out of him and win anyway. She noticed Absol bark out something Braviary would have been able to hear, and Cyrus' Pokemon barely had any time to react.

The front of the island burst alight with sparkling pink, and the sound hit Garchomp a fraction of a second later. The bombardment spread throughout the platform in a flash, and enormous plumes of glamour rose like pillars of smoke that masked the impacts from the second volley. The air crackled purple with the intertwining of spirits attempting to fight this foreign influence, and they screamed until the glamour had all been eaten away. The ground, torn and ravaged, bore deep craters and fissures save for the hill in the west which was slowly reforming, but the Pokemon themselves had survived the onslaught. Garchomp didn't really bother checking which was hurt and which wasn't, though the upturned forest did reveal that Cyrus' last Pokemon was a Weavile.

Not bad, kid. Not bad.

Talk about extra, Glaceon grumbled. Can you deal with this on your own? Please?

I'll let you sleep on my shoulders if you do well, Garchomp said.

The ice type grinned, and frost began to leak with every breath. Let's kill these guys, Garchomp!

Ha. Garchomp wasn't smiling right now, she simply needed to flash her teeth to look threatening to her enemies below.

The moment passed.

It was at times like these that Garchomp was glad she could let loose once in a while without caring about collateral damage. Or caring much about it, at least. So long as she didn't go too ham and do something like try to collapse an island again, she'd probably be fine.

The dragon crouched low against the ground, flexed as energy channeled through her legs. She broke any conceptions of limits she might have, be it strength her body could not attain, speed her wings could not carry her at, the toughness of her scales, and she jumped, leaving a massive crater behind her that smoldered with turquoise wisps and flames. Glaceon's complaints faded behind her, and she landed on the next island before any of her enemies could blink.

Right. She needed to be scary at times like these. Garchomp let out a roar that vibrated in her chest and watched Weavile and Houndoom flinch with a pleased eye. She immediately drew upon fire, feeling her scales heat up as blue flames overtook her, and she rushed toward Houndoom as soon as Weavile took up a defensive position. The weakling hound hadn't expected her to target him with flames, and she wasn't. Infusing the fire with draconic energy, Garchomp raised a claw before slamming it against the dog's spine. She frowned when the Dragon Rush only hit dissolving shadows and quickly side stepped a beam of ice coming from behind her.

Houndoom was quicker than she'd given it credit for.

She stomped another foot against the ground and felt the earth ripple against her feet. She could sense the pathetic dark type squirming in the shadows. An eruption of earth kicked the Houndoom out of the ground and she jumped into the sky to feint a strike. As soon as Crobat dashed to stop her, foaming poison at its mouth, Garchomp twisted in the air and pushed herself toward Weavile, whose eyes widened at her maneuverability in the air. The dragon moved her wings quickly in front of her, and a shockwave infused with turquoise light stunned Weavile long enough for Garchomp to slice her wing through her shoulder like it was made of clay.

To Garchomp, time always seemed to slow in the most violent moments of a battle. There was might behind her strike. The power of an unbeatable Pokemon; of an indomitable spirit; of a natural disaster; of what being a dragon meant to her; of Cynthia's Garchomp. The smell of blood filled her nose, and her instincts told her to go for the neck and start spinning while she dragged her under the earth. She wouldn't need to go that far.

Ah, Weavile's reaction time had been so great, still. Enough for frost to start spewing out of her like a torrent. Not enough. What a shame, too. Who knew, another five years and maybe she would have made for a decent fight.

She'd felt the resistance of Weavile's sinewy flesh slowly give way, and the subtle crunch as her claws tore through the muscle and into the bone. The ice type's face had gone from terrified to agonized in a moment, and she was only now registering what had happened. A guttural roar of pain erupted from Weavile, mingling with the savage satisfaction that coursed through Garchomp's veins. In a smooth motion, she dug her wing away from the Weavile and turned toward the wounded Houndoom and furious Crobat. Behind her, Weavile slumped to the ground and groaned in pain.

Thought even you would all give me a better fight than that after your dodge, hound, Garchomp said, almost wishful.

They did not answer, for they knew their fate was already sealed.



The ground trembled as the massive form of Gyarados loomed over Glaceon, its serpentine body coiling with the intent to strike. Tail. The ice type caught the flicker of movement, the angling of the strike so it could hit her flank while the Gyarados gathered a Dark Pulse within its mouth. Instead of hitting her, the darkness wrapped around the tail right as it swung. Glaceon dissolved into a tiny patch of blizzard right as Gyarados' darkened tail was about to strike her. The sensation was still as surreal as the first time she'd ever managed the transformation after months of intense focus and training that was really annoying because of how hard she'd needed to work.

It was, in one sentence, like melting into the essence of Winter itself. Winter was, of course, cold, but it was distant. Turning into a small part of it meant the dulling of the senses. Glaceon felt weightless, almost omnipresent. Through small shards of crystal ice, she could track the movements of Gyarados, Absol and Honchkrow even though she no longer could see.

She was a relentless, howling wind that cut through skin, fat, muscle and bone. The chill that gripped you to your core and left you unable to move your limbs while you died alone in a blizzard after the winds extinguished your fire. Winter was a weakening force, and so Gyarados' strike slowed to a mind-numbing pace until its tail went limp on the ground and Glaceon reformed on top of it before she could lose more of herself. Absol followed suit, jumping on the water type as it blurred in her direction, and Honchkrow launched countless arcs of darkness toward her.

Honestly, what a bother.

Synced with her boredom and laziness, the temperature plummeted. The darkness froze and cracked like distorted glass into a thousand pieces and Absol's legs stuck to Gyarados' hide.

Once an enemy was still and entirely within her field of vision for an extended period of time, it was over.

Glaceon looked, channeling Winter through her eyes. Frost crawled over Absol's fur and sank past the skin. She could see it freeze every blood vessel in place, every organ, every inch of muscle, and it continued until he was nothing but ice. Glaceon jumped with a burst of ice below her feet. The air around the ice type sharpened with a distorted squawk from Honchkrow, slicing her hide with more darkness in an attempt to cut off the well of Winter. It was shallower, in the Dusk, but it was only that. An attempt.

And a meaningless one at that. What it had done was essentially try to block the flow of a massive river with a boulder a fraction of its width. Slower this time, she turned to a blizzard that enveloped Honchkrow until it crashed to the ground and Glaceon pierced its chest with a lance borne of Winter, created directly inside of the crow's body. She flexed her body, freezing her wounds over, and turned toward Gyarados with an exasperated groan.

If you surrender and act dead, I'll spare you, Glaceon lied. Really, she wanted the serpent to lay down so she could lance it in the head without any issues.

Gyarados bellowed, I won't let you touch my master. The sound of her voice had Glaceon flatten her ears in mild irritation.

Gah! They were making her work for this. Why did they even love a man who could never return that feeling, anyway? Glaceon would have given it some thought, but that'd take too much brain power and Garchomp's shoulders were calling.



Man, as a species, was flawed. The world, as it had been crafted by Arceus' thousand hands, was flawed. Cyrus believed he'd be the one to fix it all, one day. That he alone would usher this world into a new era that would shed any unnecessary parts these so-called Gods had brought into the world. He, alone, had been born as a flawless being. One capable of seeing through the veil that was emotion which made the world so repugnant.

And he had come so close. Dialga had been within his grasp, with Palkia about to breach into their reality within moments. Had that thing, the Ruler of the Dusk, not intervened, he would have won. Everything would have been unmade and he would be in the process of rebuilding the world. From nothing would have come all he had ever wanted.

Yet,

This Dusk, as ghosts called it, was not so bad, either. He had been aware of its existence, of course, but a Legend ruling it had not been in any of what he had learned. Nearly two decades spent on the road, exploring every ruin, combing through every library, getting his hands on classified information through Charon's Rotom, and still, he had been left with this gaping blind spot.

But what was this world? Cyrus' hands were no longer outstretched. Instead, he had placed him behind his back and had begun pacing near the fuzzy edge of this islet. Behind him, he could hear the sound of fighting, but no matter. His Pokemon had served him well and were no longer of use. At first, he had been compelled to leave as soon as possible. To regroup, start over and escape the region until he could rebuild his strength enough. Maybe far north in the Battle Frontier, where the League's authority stretched thin.

He had since changed his mind.

First of all, it was quiet. So, so quiet. There was the sound of screaming emanating all throughout, but this was a different kind of quiet. No, unlike in the old world, individual words and sounds were indistinguishable, forming a comforting white noise that was essentially silence. It was so... uniform. No more, did he have to hear the chaotic and disunited blare that he had somehow grown used to. He could hear himself think and ponder without having to stay locked in his office for days on end. It was visually chaotic, but if he closed his eyes and stopped to think, Cyrus could be at peace. His Pokemon had warned him of spirits hounding them, before the Champion's team had come, but none of that had happened to him. Second, this world being the Dusk meant that there would be a certain permanence to it. That it would remain with him, forever, unchanged in its current state. This was a world without spirit, a world that Cyrus had craved for decades.

It was as if he was meant to be here. As if the Dusk's ruler had seen how great his endeavor truly was and wanted to show him that there was a place for him among its dimension.

Third.

If he was the only person who would remain here, would that not make him a God? Would the shadowy figure who ruled this world not elevate him until he grew in power? It had invited him here, after all. He was worthy of being more. Not Arceus, not Dialga, Palkia, the Lake Guardians or any other Legendary. He deserved all of it, and he was about to get it.

Cyrus forcefully exhaled, satisfied with himself. It was just in time, too, because he could hear Garchomp's heavy and distorted steps slowly approach behind him. Team Galactic's leader turned, hands still behind his back and fist tightly wound around one of his wrists. Ah, Cynthia Collins. The owner of a team so powerful his Absol's disaster sense had flared up as soon as they'd approached. The Glaceon was pristine like crystalline ice, and Garchomp had been shallowly wounded on the arms, torso and legs due to poison, and blood and guts covered her. The corpses of his team had been strewn about the island, half of them frozen like statues and the other torn to shreds. Nowhere near enough to hope for a victory, and that just against two members of the Champion's team. Truly, she had reached the pinnacle of what it meant to be a trainer.

Ah, but he was getting side tracked. Both Pokemon were talking among themselves, fighting about something.

"If you must strike me down, know that—" Garchomp growled at him, a deep, guttural and savage sound that barely contained her bloodlust. A warning that Cyrus decided to ignore. "—I have been invited here by the Dusk's ruler itself." Cyrus took a step forward and ignored his instincts telling him that he was about to die. "You will find yourself constrained and unable to strike."

Glaceon rolled her eyes, seemingly giving up on holding Garchomp back, and—

Cyrus felt wind rush past his face. He saw a green blur, his ears popped from the air being displaced at such speeds, yet Cyrus stared straight ahead without blinking. Garchomp's wing was just a few inches from his neck, yet it was frozen in place. Its sharpened teeth chattered and its entire body had been gripped by fear. Cyrus knew what that meant.

His hypothesis had been right. He could not be killed.

Cyrus allowed his body to relax and untense, quietly slipping away from Garchomp's wing before he returned to stare at the endless, formless void that spread in every direction. He threw each of his empty Pokeballs one by one, ignoring Glaceon's chatter behind him, and enjoyed a sense of peace he had never felt before.

This was his place. He had finally found it.



Togekiss was in high enough spirits to hum one of his favorite songs. The flying type spun around in a barrel roll as he flew, reaching the limits of his speed. His fur slicked back against his skin, and his song broke into a giggle. Oh, the spirits tried to cling to him, they always did, those poor things! Togekiss called out to them in an attempt to listen to their pleas. It was the best way to draw them in, after all! The flying type felt something cold crawl through his skin, but he waited until enough weight had been added and they tried to find what made him tick to spring to action.

He relaxed a part of him he hadn't even known was tense. Muscle memory had worked through that sensation. Like opening a valve to allow air to pass, positive emotions began to leak out of Togekiss' body. A veritable flood that these echoes hadn't felt in who knew how many years. Rejoice, lost ones, for I have come to bless you! Togekiss laughed. They wailed, wailed and wailed, as if they'd been singed by fire. His mere presence was enough to help those poor souls remember what joy and love was.

Kill them with kindness, as always.

That should have bought him a few minutes until they tried something else. These last few hours, he had learned that usually when they saw such a large portion of their kin being beaten back, they instinctively retreated for a while. The fairy zipped past an island shaped like an indescribable shape, molded in the form of an impossible figure that he thought in too few dimensions to understand. Finding someone here was like finding a needle in a haystack. The only reason he had managed to find Glacia so quickly was because she'd turned herself into a massive blizzard that Giratina had warned her to cease. Luckily they'd been close enough together for him to spot her beforehand, and he had wrung the fear out of her like liquid out of a sponge. That primal fear had been stronger than anything else in the vicinity and was easy enough to locate. Leviathan had been the same, but was clearly embarrassed about it.

"Natalia Ivanova," she hoarsely said. "Dusknoir's newly liberated prisoner."

"Interesting," Cynthia said. "I suppose you can explain it on the way to find my team... and Cyrus."

And so, the group enlarged once more.



Finding Cynthia's Pokemon one by one had been like playing a game of Whack-a-Drilbur. Mesprit took over Togekiss' empath duties, much to his relief, so he could focus fully on keeping Cynthia's head on her shoulders. Then, again, with Mira's Gengar, we got pointed in the correct direction. Froslass had to be left behind due to spending too much energy moving, but we would see her again in a week, or maybe two. Spiritomb was the one we first found, and the easiest, since the ghost could scantily move on his own. They'd been patiently waiting in their keystone, which Cynthia placed back into her pocket. According to her, Spiritomb hated the Dusk. The way the spirits cried out constantly reminded them too much of how the 108 people they'd been forged from suffered to create them. The last time they'd died was when Cynthia had first caught them, nearly two decades ago, and they intended to keep things that way.

Milotic was next. The water type had been enthralled by a waterfall flowing upward and had gathered enough water to fill one of the Guardian's Lakes to orbit around her so she could study it undisturbed. Cynthia said that she would have stayed there until she was starving, had no one intervened, but as soon as she noticed her trainer, she screeched (more like a Fearow than anything that should have come out of a Milotic's mouth) and wrapped herself around Cynthia like a snake so tightly that had trouble breathing. It looked like thankfully, worries about her mentally breaking down had been overblown and the spirits had left her mostly alone.

Of course, all that water she had gathered collapsed and fell in every direction. Thankfully, Giratina didn't seem to mind, but that was probably because Milotic hadn't brought in any new water in. No collateral damage with the outside world.

That notion disappeared when we found Lucario flying around with bursts of aura from his palm that extended so far they scorched the earth below him. The steel type looked exhausted and ready to collapse. It seemed like crossing the void had done a number on his mental state, and Cynthia recalled him as soon as they'd shared a short hug.

Eelektross and Gastrodon had been still, huddled together under the shade from an overhang that looked more like a fanged mouth ready to close in on them. Eelektross could normally use magnetism to float or propel itself at speeds as fast as Cecilia's Talonflame, but doing that in the Distortion World would have been a death sentence, according to her. Gastrodon chimed in and said the reality was that she was terrified of the damn place, which prompted the electric type to send a shock so violent and virulent at her that we were blind for a good five minutes after. The electricity had been completely blue, like Craig's Eelektross, but far more violent and disorderly.

Yet it stopped before any of it could touch us, even when we were just a few feet away, no barrier needed. As for Gastrodon? Well, she was smoking a little bit, but she was fine.

It had taken a while, but we'd done it. We'd found her Pokemon who had been alone, and now all that remained was Garchomp's group. Seeing them all be so familiar with Maylene before being recalled was fun. She was like a younger sister they doted on. I couldn't really see her like that after how hard she'd worked and how dependable she'd been on the climb up Coronet and even here, in the Distortion World, but the last time they'd interacted much, she'd still been a struggling Gym Leader. Today, she was someone else. Who had grown, for better or for worse, just like the rest of us.

"There!" Azelf called out, letting indignation leak into their voice. We all had to resist the urge to cower. "That worthless human is close! I feel the remains of the Red Chain pulling me closer!"

Their precision helped us track him down sooner. The Guardians led us to a mountainous island, leading to a cliff that my eyes struggled to pull away from once we reached a peak. There was a huge crater near the edge pulsating with the familiar red veins that covered the Distortion World. Some of them had burst through the floor and were writhing, knitting themselves together in an attempt to rebuilt, but the damage was too extensive.

The island was so large— the largest I'd ever seen in here, in fact— that it took me thirty seconds to place him. What caught my eyes first was an ice statue of a Gyarados that I soon realized was a corpse. There were five other Pokemon strewn about the island, half frozen in place, the other half torn open with blood and organs soaking the ground below us.

That was how the Leader of Galactic went down? In a battle I hadn't gotten to see or participate in?

I clenched my fist. That was the wrong mentality to have... my Pokemon's and my friends' safety came first. Always.

Continuing from the massive platform were a series of smaller islands led to... nothing. They were almost close enough together that jumping might have been possible, but each subsequent island was smaller and smaller until the tenth only had enough space to fit a single person.

But that wasn't where Cyrus was. He stood in-between a forest and a shifting mound of hills, over the blurry edge leading nowhere, with Garchomp, Glaceon, Braviary and Roserade around him in a semicircle. The situation seemed tense, though Glaceon was lying on the ground and looked to barely be paying attention. The man himself was sitting cross-legged, his back to the Pokemon, and leaning onto his fist. I was surprised they hadn't killed him yet.

The three Guardians gently lowered us onto the island using one of their twisting paths and Maylene was the only one who couldn't bear to look at the dead bodies. Cynthia called out to her team as soon as she touched down. Of her Pokemon, Garchomp was the first one to get here at speeds that shattered the sound barrier. There really was no winding up time. A push from her legs was all that was needed to go that fast. Cece tried to hold me to keep me safe from the gust of wind, but she was still hurt. We'd have fallen, but Togekiss, Maylene, Toxicroak— hell, even Mesprit had been ready to keep us from falling.

It was a tiny gesture, but... it felt good to have so many people having my back.

Again, Cynthia explained the situation, but faster this time. Garchomp had noticed that the way she carried herself and spoke had changed to be far less confident. When she was done, she patted the dragon on the arm. "It's a good thing you didn't kill him. We have questions to ask him, or information to take away, should he prove uncooperative." There was a heavy sigh. She was tired, like everyone else. Her starter looked to the side, bright yellow eyes shifting awkwardly. "Oh. You were about to, weren't you?"

She had been, but had been stopped by a powerful voice that sounded nothing like the spirits around here. It had been far more powerful, far more orderly, yet garbled, and Garchomp had been able to tell that even if it had her stop dead in her tracks, it had been a fraction of what it was actually capable of. Something about her instincts?

Cynthia nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. Togekiss had to chirp at her to give her the courage to open them again. Cyrus hadn't even noticed us yet. He was in his own little world. Natalia was uncharacteristically quiet. If she'd stopped endlessly bantering when we'd come across Cynthia, then Cyrus' appearance had sown her mouth completely shut. The rest of Cynthia's Pokemon had gone to her as well. It was odd, seeing her in such a familiar setting. There was so much history behind every relationship there, so many years spent together.

"Giratina must have other plans," Uxie muttered under their breath. "Her intervention is the only explanation."

Mesprit quickly agreed. "He brought us in for a reason. Now I see that it has to do with the empty shell!" The Legendary's tails excitedly intertwined, something that Azelf had been desperate to stop because they believed they were above such things.

"That's just like it, to go rogue and do its own thing." Azelf crossed their arms together with a pleased expression. "That's why I like them the best."

Mesprit gasped, asking Azelf if that meant they liked Giratina less than them, but what they'd just said had terrible implications. Did that mean Cyrus couldn't actually be captured? I wasn't sure if any Pokemon or person would be courageous enough to tempt fate and hear Giratina's voice once again.

Cecilia tapped a finger on her elbow. "Cynthia. What happened to Volo, after he was beaten at the summit of Coronet?"

"I don't know. My visions weren't very clear aside from showing me the path I needed to tread. The world likes its echoes." A small smile adorned her lips, the second one since we'd gotten her back, I thought, and it completely captured our attention. "But he wasn't actually killed, nor was he ever seen again."

Cecilia muttered, "And he was allied with Giratina—"

"End this line of thought," Uxie chided. "Giratina understands now that even a world they cannot access is worth protecting, and she was punished amply."

"Pfft. A slap on the wrist. The only time He does something other than watch, and it's to punish one of us..." Mesprit sighed with their characteristic pout.

I was curious to know what this 'slap on the wrist' was, but the conversation had already steered away from it. Should we, or should we not, attempt to capture Cyrus? What about just accosting him? The risk was astronomically high. Giratina, Mesprit warned, could see it as another affront. They explained that he or she or it or whatever they referred to Distortion as at the time would not really understand that we were different people with different agendas, or wants, and needs. A warning to Garchomp, to Giratina, was a warning to all of us.

Approaching him was fine, though, as Cynthia's Pokemon had shown. Cynthia decided that this would be the best course of action while the Guardians got ready to get Giratina to come to them, at the end of that chain of islands I'd noticed earlier. According to Uxie, it'd be far enough away that closing our eyes, turning away and having a barrier to stop sound courtesy of Azelf would be enough to protect our 'fragile minds'.

"Ah, company," Cyrus said. He really had only noticed us now. Even now, his expression was blank when he got up and turned toward us, but it was... lighter, than the pictures I'd seen. As if he'd been freed from a massive burden. "Make yourselves at home. There is plenty of space for you to experience the Dusk's perfection."

Oh.

Oh, he was that kind of insane. Completely delusional, but in a very warm way now that he seemingly had what he wanted? I thought he would have been furious at his plans being foiled, that this would have finally been the straw that broke the Camerupt's back and would have him feel something, but he just beckoned us to sit with him. As if he hadn't been our enemy for the past year. As if all of us didn't want to either see him dead or rotting in prison.

No one took him up on the offer.

"I assume you are all familiar with the concept of DNA," he continued, unbothered by the fact that we were all ignoring him. He twisted his index and middle fingers together. "Genes can be considered the blueprints of all life-forms. That includes humans and Pokémon alike. Genes are contained in a DNA strand; If one of the chains were to be broken, the other could replicate it, but one or the other cannot exist without its opposite."

Ah, he had grasped the nature of this place on his own—

Why were we even listening to this drivel?! We had to be careful, yes, but that didn't mean we needed to let him talk.

"Your days as a free man are at an end," I declared with my arms crossed. "No one cares about what you have to say."

"I would not be so certain about this," he replied. "Grace Pastel, is it? It was you, who I did not see inside of Emotion's mind. We never had much of a connection, and it only listened to me through the embers carried by Mars. Ah, speaking of Mars." He stared at Natalia, causing her to shrink and make herself small. "You would be Natalia Ivanova. Dusknoir spent many long nights speaking about you, but I suppose you would know that."

"F—fuck off," she stammered. "You groomer piece of shit."

He ignored her and kept talking. He droned on and on about how he was going to become a God and shatter our world anyway with Giratina's help, though he didn't know that name. Complete and utter delusion that boggled the mind, yet no amount of speaking over him from any of us stopped him because he could not be restrained. It was so damn frustrating. He was right there—

"It is on the cusp of arrival." Azelf's voice, which was a smidge deeper than the other two, startled me. I'd been so honed in on Cyrus I hadn't even noticed that they'd flown toward us. "Brace yourselves."

"Already?!" Maylene screeched.

"It is not only the creator of this world, it is this entire world. It can be anywhere it wants at once." The God lazily waved a hand, and an impossibly complex barrier surrounded all of us, save for Cyrus. Multilayered, but also more complicated the longer you stared at it. It was like looking at a fractal. The howling of the winds was slowly choked out as Azelf cut off sound, and I remembered what silence was again. "It has simply given us some leeway because it knows it can have... effects on people."

The idea that that thing was going to come here any moment now had me sweating. The collar of my jacket felt tight around my throat, a hand around my neck to stop me from properly breathing. Every inch of my skin prickled and I quickly closed my eyes. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. If anticipation could kill, I would already be dead. Before I'd closed my eyes, I'd seen a hint of light in Cyrus' own. He truly believed in his own spiel. Nearly all of our Pokemon were recalled, save for Gengar and Togekiss. We were taking no chances.

"—et me in, let me in!" Mesprit cried out. "Don't open your eyes!"

That was when I knew something had gone wrong.

I couldn't see, but their conversation was impossible to miss.

"He's coming here."

"Here?! Right here?!" Azelf said in pure disbelief.

"Yes, right here! Stop your barriers from letting light in!" Mesprit said.

"You and I both know that's not how Giratina works—"

"Do your best! Actually you know what, I'll take over. You go out there and tell him that he's being a meanie! You're better than me at that!" Emotion said.

There was the sound of a struggle. "Mesprit, wha— wait, what are you doing— stop!"

"Okaythankyoubye!"

"What in the world is going on?" Cynthia was the first one to speak out.

"Just a little hiccup!" My vision went dark. Completely dark. It was the difference between closing your eyes during the evening or dusk and doing so in pitch darkness where not even light from the stars or moon could reach. "I told my Shard about it being a possibility, but it turns out Giratina's being a lot more straightforward about what he wants than we thought he would be, haha, um, don't worry about it!" I heard something compact together. The tightening of our shield. "He's going to be right next to us is all. I have it contained."

"Wha— move us, then!" Maylene yelled, and for once, Natalia agreed with her.

"No, he wants a good look at all of the ones he dragged in, that includes all of you. He doesn't understand or care about the consequences that could have, so—" Another compaction, and some crackling. "—we have to work with him instead. At least he warned us!"

"What's happening with Cyrus?" Cynthia asked.

"He's—"

Even with my eyes closed, and within the barrier, I saw it.

A shape, darker than absolute blackness, looming over us all until Mesprit forcefully turned all of us away, yet it was everywhere, and I heard Emotion complain about Giratina being annoying on purpose. It had come from above, a worm-like thing that spanned the length of an entire city with claw-like appendages on its back. The air grew thick and cold, a suffocating blanket of dread that made it hard to draw breath. It was so quiet. So, so quiet you could hear a pin drop on a mattress. A chill crept through my veins, a cold so intense it felt like those wings were wrapping around my heart, squeezing tighter with each passing moment. The darkness behind my closed eyelids seemed to pulse and shift, the shadows moving in ways that defied logic.

Ỷ̴͇̲̳͕̘̩͑̋͗͊̓̎̓͜Ǫ̵̢̤̘̹͚̙̼̯̳͙̩̦͂͗̐̆̄̅̕͝ͅỪ̴̯̓́̐̿̏͒͗̉̽̾͐͝

Not directed at me. It hadn't been directed at me, but all I could do was cower in fear at the thing that was right above me.

"Cyrus is being drawn in." Mesprit was describing the situation to us. "He's walking toward him slowly." None of us wanted to listen to this. We were simply too terrified to make a single sound. "The empty shell is clawing at his face," they giggled. Around twenty seconds later. "He's gouged out his eyes and there's no more skin left— he's been seized. He's being grabbed by spirits. They're bringing him up to—" There was nothing but empty, vapid silence. "Hm. He was taken, but not killed. Interesting. Personally I find this to be a hilarious fate but you people would probably call it horrifying."

What the hell did that mean? I heard someone throw up next to me, and the nausea was starting to get to me too. My fingers could barely move. Slowly, people started to breathe again. In and out, all out of sync, yet hoping we would live to see our world again.

"Yeah, he's gone. Good riddance!" Mesprit said. "Giratina isn't leaving, though. My siblings are talking to him and asking him whether or not we can go home. It looks like he was just after the culprit and wanted to see who else was associated with the empty shell. No one here is, though, so you should be safe! Hurray!"

Get me out of here. Get me out. Out. Out. Out. Out! It was moving inside my eyelids, it was slithering its way inside my ears, nose and eyes. I could feel its presence inside of me. it was everywhere and it wanted me dead. It felt like an endless amount of time passed the next time Mesprit said something else.

"Azelf really is good at this. Rejoice, mortals! You're going back home!"

I didn't want to know what negotiations between that thing and Azelf implied, or how they took place, but I couldn't even feel relief. Not when it was still crawling across my eyelids in ways that my brain couldn't understand.

But then came a release of pressure. The ability to breathe clearly again— though anything felt clear in the absence of Distortion. Finally, my closed eyes could no longer perceive its shape. It slithered away, out of view without a sound. When the barrier went down and we finally opened our eyes again, we found ourselves facing a rift. Giratina wasn't present, thank the fucking Legendaries. There were no remains of Cyrus, but this rift, instead of being purple and ugly and the sign of the world's hidden horrors. It was a tiny circle of beautiful light, large enough to fit all of us. The other side was so bright it took my eyes nearly ten seconds to actually understand what I was looking at.

A field of white flowers, next to a river.

I broke down and sobbed.

Stupid. Of course the real world was still there, Giratina had saved it! But hearing about it and seeing it was different. It hadn't sunk in for me until this very moment, but we...

We had saved the world.

We'd saved the world! Months upon months of torment, doubt and mental anguish... didn't evaporate, but I could finally smile again, so widely my cheeks started to hurt. There were laughs and giggles around me from everyone who must have been thinking the same.

"Let's get on with it, shall we?" Cynthia said.

Her voice was shaking.

Natalia was the first to go, not because of any order, but because she quite literally could not handle being here any longer. She jumped head first into the rift and landed on a patch of flowers, flattening them. She wasn't going to try to run. She knew she wouldn't get very far and that there was no point. Next was Charon and Gengar, followed by Mira, whose face untensed the moment she crossed the threshold, where she began to talk to herself. I'd expected to go last or among the last few, but it was I, who was ushered forward next. I leapt into the portal and further ruined the patch of delicate white flowers we were all landing in. They looked like Lilies, which reminded me of the League.

I was not ashamed to hug the ground. I rubbed my face up against the dirt and enjoyed the feeling of it on my skin. I'd nearly forgotten that it wasn't normal to have constant screams in the back of your mind. It wasn't normal to have the ground constantly shift below you. It wasn't normal to have to keep away the thoughts clawing at your weaknesses. My tears fell onto the flowers and I cried until we were all out. I tightly hugged Cece, Mira, Maylene— hell, I even laughed with Natalia at how joyous everything felt. Call it a truce. A lone Fearow flying overhead was the first thing I saw that truly cemented that we were back.

"We did it," Maylene cried. She looked at me. "We really did it. It's over. Arceus, I could— I could—" She didn't finish that sentence, and her smile faltered for a moment, but it returned just as quickly.

Even Cece was grinning. "I suppose we've passed the worst of the storm. Grace, you don't suppose we could finally do your taxes sometime this week?"

I snorted. We saved the world, I repeated to myself again.

"This place. It's near the Sendoff Spring," Cynthia said. "Said to lead to the great beyond by old texts. It's north-east of the Hotel Grand Lake." She looked into the orange sky with her hand protecting her eyes from the setting sun, and I followed her glance. Even from here, we could see the massive rift stretching across the entirety of the Coronet Mountain range.

Yet, it was closing, little by little. It looked like in ten minutes, it'd be completely gone. Just like Galactic. Just like Cyrus.

The Guardians circled above us, though their expressions were far less ecstatic than ours. They were going to have to leave, to go back to their Lakes. They'd enjoyed the taste of freedom for the first time in thousands of years, and yet they had to give it away. Mesprit slowly approached me, their splendor having returned now that it wasn't being choked out by the Distortion World. It was difficult to look at them for too long.

"Goodbye, Shard..." Mesprit gloomily floated in front of me. "Even if you hated Distortion, I had fun with you."

"...do you already have to go? You could— you could hang around. Be like Mimi—"

A saddened smile was their response. "I cannot be like the ingot. We all have a Role to play, a color to be on the canvas that is His Creation, and I'm afraid I have to go back to fulfill my purpose."

"I understand. Okay."

I never thought I'd actually be sad to see them go.

"Hey!" They pouted, hearing my thoughts. "Before I go, a word of advice! You're feeling a high of emotion right now, but beware. You're exhausted, Shard. What goes up must come down, eventually!" They'd been about to turn around, but—

"Wait!"

I wrapped them in a hug, a real one, this time, not just in their mindscape. They were cold, like ceramic, yet soft regardless. Mesprit nuzzled their head into my neck and closed their eyes, just enjoying the moment.

"We'll stay in touch, okay? I'll come by the Lake when I have time, and don't hesitate to contact me whenever you want. We can talk."

"Hmhm."

Azelf had already said Cecilia goodbye, and by that I meant they'd just glanced in her direction and nodded, while Uxie was the last one to be done with Mira. Once they were done, the three Guardians floated upward and dashed in three separate directions faster than Garchomp, cloaking themselves by making their skin reflect light.

Just like that, in less than a second, they were gone.

I'll miss you, Grace! Mesprit's voice rang out in my head. That... was the first time they'd called me by my name.

Well, not completely gone, thankfully.

Cynthia released Garchomp and had her fly to the League encampment on the flanks of Coronet as fast as she could, and as high as she could so the clouds could hide her. Soon, we'd see everyone again.

Now, it was time to rebuild, and see the cost this monumental effort had, and would cost us.

And sleep, because Legendaries, I was tired.

A/N: One more chapter and that's the end of the arc.