Dawn stood at the base of the rough hewn staircase, leading up to the blinding white light that signaled an end to her subterranean crawl. The endless, snaking caverns of Mount Coronet yawned behind her, the darkness littered with fallen Galactic grunts. Not a one had been able to stop her, but the sheer numbers had worn her team down within inches of exhaustion. She hadn't fared much better. The climb hadn't been without its stumbles, and she was covered head to toe in dust and grime, her palms and knees grazed raw, bleeding where the wounds hadn't crusted over with dirt.

She hardly noticed. As she wrapped yet another length of gauze around her Lopunny, Riji's, leg, torn badly from a tangle with a particularly vicious Stunky, she surveyed her team. None were without injury, and all desperately needed a Pokemon Center. Setting her mouth grimly, she sprayed another potion onto Rijis wounded leg. She would do what she could for them, but all chance of rest was far behind now.

She stared into the inky darkness of the caverns from which she'd come, hoping against hope that a friendly face would appear. Barry, Cynthia, the Professor… anyone at all. The realization that she was alone struck her like a falling stalagmite. No one was coming to help. No one even knew where she was.

Dawn had promised, at the mouth of Coronet, safely on the ground near Hearthome, she would not stop until this was over. She wouldn't let up until Cyrus was defeated. She was the only one who could do it, because everyone else who's responsibility this should have been weren't there, and there was no time to lose. She'd promised her team that they could do this. She'd promised herself she wouldn't cry.

The tremor in her bottom lip traveled like lightning down through her shoulders, into her throbbing hands. Sitting heavily on the step, the weight of her task bent her forward, until the air in her lungs was burning and she was sure she'd never be able to get up again. But she was so close. Tears burned unshed in her eyes.

A nudge at her hand had her lifting her head. A massive shape, big and wide as a hill, stood before her, an arrow shaped head with great red eyes watching her, the same eyes that had looked up at her at the side of a lake, after protecting her from a swarm of angry Starlies. Zann gave a rumble, so deep she felt it in the earth under her. The Torterra was as exhausted as the rest of her team, but she couldn't see it in the tree trunk sized legs, or the slow lash of that lethal tail. He was ready. Dawn leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his broad, flat nose.

I don't know if I can. She didn't say it aloud, and she didn't have to. Zann rumbled again, the pitch prompting. The corner of her mouth quirked for an instant, and she hastily wiped her eyes with the back of one grubby hand. Blinking grit out of her eyes, she stood again. Her knees only wobbled a little, and it gave her a stab of pride.

As she gathered her pokemon back into their balls, examining each a final time for injuries, she brushed the dirt from her hat and straighten it on her head. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, into the light, and whatever waited on the other side.


Dawn thought that the affronts she'd witnessed in the depths of Galactic's Headquarters should have prepared her for this. Whatever Cyrus's plans, how could they compare to watching living, breathing divines twitching like marionettes in the belly of his lair? He'd spoken of a Red Chain, something to bind the power of gods to his will. Then, they sounded like the ravings of a lunatic. Now, they burst into perfect, horrible clarity.

The air was alive with the swirling, sucking noise of a cosmos being plucked apart at the very seams. Dawn felt the disturbance in the air, watched as empty space opened as though parted by a zipper, so she was staring into holes of flashing, glittering stars. The wrongness of it numbed her, even more than the icy wind howling like a cyclone around the platform that made up the crumbling remains of Spear Pillar.

There he was, the Puppet Master, the conductor of this madness. Cyrus stood at the head of the congregation, and around him whirled the Red Chain, writhing like a maddened Arbok. Dawn's fists clenched on the thing nearest to hand. A sharp shard of stone, fallen from one of the columns. It occurred to her grimly that this may be her only recourse. By then, Mars and Jupiter had spotted her, shoving aside the cowering grunts to confront her.

"How dare you show your face here, at the height of Team Galactic's glory!" Mars rolled the pokeball in her hand, no doubt her Skuntank. She looked absolutely euphoric.

"In moments, Master Cyrus will create a brand new world. And you," Jupiter pointed dramatically down at her. "Will be nothing but a smear on our boots."

Dawn's face didn't change. Instead, she reached into her pocket, withdrew the ball holding Zann. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it into the air.

The crash the Torterra made as he landed was terrific. The shockwave sent both Mars and Jupiter flying, and they scrambled to regain their positions. The twin expressions of barely-suppressed dread on their faces made Dawn's mouth turn up into a sneer of satisfaction. Galactic had learned their lesson well, to fear Zann. If it was a fight they wanted, then they'd get it.

The sound of rapid, familiar footsteps behind her startled her from her battle stance. Dawn's head snapped around, back to the entrance back into Coronet. Out of the darkness, a shock of yellow hair and a cocky grin set in a grubby face appeared. "Looks like I'm just in time!" Barry. Dawns relief was palpable. She turned back again, and Jupiter and Mars' complexions had gone a shade a touch paler than milk. Barry grinned up at them, and in an instant his Infernape was prowling beside Zann, its mane sending up a shower of eager sparks. Barry's hand found her shoulder and squeezed. "You okay?" he murmured. Dawn nodded. "Good. I didn't wanna carry you back down the mountain anyways." His voice was amused, but his eyes were grim. "Let's finish this."

In a second, Team Galactic was on them. Grunts flung pokeballs from all directions, scores of Golbat and Stunky swirling around their pokemon like a furious poison river. Mars and Jupiter hung back. Their eyes were alight, eagerly watching as Zann and Infernape lashed out at the their attackers.

The wave of pokemon crashed forward, to the spot Dawn and Barry had taken behind their teams. Over their heads, Golbat and Staravias screamed and wheeled. Dawn took a step back, eyes round as Zann disappeared under a wave of writhing bodies.

Flinging his pokeball, she recalled the massive Torterra to safety. Beside her, Barry kicked a Houndour off of his fallen Infernape, pulling his partner back into its pokeball. She whirled desperately. Their targets gone, the Galactic hordes sniffed and paced for a moment, before catching the scent of fresh blood. Their eyes found Dawn and Barry, exposed against the sheer face of rock behind them.

Dawn clutched the sharp stone in her hand. There was no time. Her eyes fell upon a shorn pillar. Flat on top, and short. Short enough to climb.

Her blood pounded in her ears as she seized Barry by the arm. Half dragging him, she shot up the rugged side of the pillar, boots scraping and wheeling as she dragged herself up. Barry was right behind her, scrambling like a Mankey with a snarling Houndoom at his heels. They huddled atop the pillar, out of the reach of the snapping jaws. Above them, the sky swirled, alive with lighting and storm clouds.

Without taking his eyes from the snarling mass of bodies beneath them, Barry grasped Dawn's hand and squeezed. "You have to get to Cyrus." She stretched her neck to see over the pillars blocking her view of the altar, and she felt her blood go cold.

The Red Chain screamed overhead, a solid line of red light. Beneath it, Cyrus stood, ramrod straight, eyes trained on the sky above him. Dawn gripped the shard of stone so tightly the sharp edges drew blood. She threw a questioning glance back at Barry. He nodded. "Professor Rowan isn't far behind me. I'll be ok."

Dawn needed no more urging. She flung her Noctowls pokeball like a skipping stone, leaping onto his back with practiced skill. Clinging to the giant bird's back with bruising desperation, the wind whipped her hat from her head. She could do it, she could stop him, she was here in time she was so close-

Archimedes had barely touched down before she was moving, her boots smacking hard on the bricks and sending pain lancing up her legs. Cyrus didn't even turn around.

The stone was cold in her hand as she lifted it over her head. Just like throwing a Pokeball, she thought.

The stone whistled through the air. Her aim was true.

It struck Cyrus squarely in the back of the head. He crumpled forward for an instant, feet shifting under him, trying to recover from the blow. A pale hand came up to touch where the stone had struck, and came away red. Finally, he turned.

He barely looked human, in this light. The eerie purple sky serving as his backdrop, he stood outlined in the hellish red light flung from the Chain. Dawn steeled herself. She was not afraid of him. She was not afraid.

His face hadn't changed, but she knew that meant nothing. Dawn searched his face for his eyes, hidden in shadow by his prominent brow ridge, but found nothing but dark holes. Deliberately, she drew Zann's pokeball from her pocket. Her eyes never left him. Dark holes, burning into her. Testing her. She would not fail.

Unbelievably, he smiled. Only a quirk of his mouth, and if she'd blinked she'd have missed it. He reached into his own pocket, drawing out a pokeball. His arm tensed to throw it. Above him the Red Chain whirled ever faster, faster, and inside the entire cosmos opened up, a skylight into a void that seemed ready to swallow them all where they stood. Dawn clenched her fist and lifted her arm.

Above her, the sky opened up, and the universe heaved the churning contents of it's belly onto their heads. The scream of motion very nearly flung her from her feet.

Dawn found herself crouching, arms over her head. The noise still thrummed in the air, a deafening pressure on her eardrums, so heavy she felt it on her skin. Daring to peer from the shelter of her arms, she felt her stomach drop, mouth going dry.

Cyrus was sprawled facedown on the ground, and above him hovered two shapes. Behemoths, both, open veins of light pulsing through their bodies, giving them form in the perfect blackness.

She knew them, as surely as she knew the sun and moon. Dialga and Palkia. The likenesses carved into a cave wall did them no justice. The two titans seemed to quiver in midair, like heat waves radiating from concrete. The Red Chain coiled around them, squeezing their massive bodies, constricting them even as they writhed. Dialga lifted its head, and Dawn barely had time to clamp her hands to her ears before its scream shattered the air like glass.

Cyrus seemed to be recovering, picking himself up from the gritty ground, his face alight in a way Dawn had never seen before. He gazed up at the two chained gods, his arms spread. "Everything is ready for the creation of a new world. Now, all will end, and everything will begin."

The two gods thrashed against the bonds, their glowing eyes alight and burning. They were stars, trapped here where they were never meant to trod. Dawn staggered to her feet, feeling the earth tremble under her. The atmosphere was overwhelming, and she stumbled under its weight.

Above, Archimedes swept in low, talons aimed for Cyrus's unprotected head. Dawn cried out, reaching, terror wrapped like a hand around her throat. A bolt of light obscured her vision, like lightning touching earth. Archimedes fell like a stone, past the edge of Spear Pillar, into the darkness below. As if in slow motion, Dawn watched wisps of smoke rise from his burnt feathers. She was sure she must have screamed, but she heard nothing over the ringing of Cyrus's voice off the stones.

"I've waited so long for this moment." Cyrus continued, oblivious, and Dawn watched his hands tremble in the air as he held them aloft. "Shaping this world is a double spiral of time and space. The very things you have the power to control. I will have your abilities as mine."

Step by agonizing step, Dawn moved towards the altar, to Cyrus's unguarded back. Numbly, she realized she was crying. The tears were hot on her frozen skin.

"With the power I wield, I will create an entirely new world! The incomplete and ugly world we have now can disappear. I am resetting everything to zero. Nothing can remain."

Her grasping fingers found the pointed stone, lying forgotten on the crumbling stairs.

"It is all for the making of the ultimate world. A world of complete perfection. Nothing so vague and incomplete as spirit can remain."

Dawn could have reached out and touched him. The stone caught the light thrown by the unearthly tableau. She stood poised, arm raised. Acrid smoke from seared feathers danced in her nose.

As the stone sliced through the air towards its target, the ground beneath them opened. Two luminous red eyes, like the beams of twin lighthouses, stared up at her from the abyss. She stared back, and then she knew no more.


Professor Rowan had no answers. It was his job to explain the natural world to those less versed than he. But what had happened was as unnatural as they came. He doubted the best of his colleagues could have given the grieving mother and children who'd come to him any more answers.

He'd watched as the gaping mouth that had once been solid ground close where Cyrus and Dawn had stood. Barry had struggled in his hands, no doubt wanting to plunge in after them. Palkia and Dialga had vanished with Cyrus and Dawn, whatever spell that had held them broken with Cyrus's disappearance.

Cynthia had arrived a moment too late. Alone, of course. Rowan had, as much as he could, aided in the proceeding arrests and interrogations of the few Team Galactic members Interpol could round up. Most had scattered when they'd witnessed Mother Earth opening her maw to swallow their leader alive. Cyrus's commanders had gone to ground, and he doubted the police would be sniffing up their locations any time soon.

When Dawn returned after an interminable month, she was alone.

Rowan had fairly knocked her over when she'd appeared, whole and alive and covered in grime at his doorstep. He was not a demonstrative man, but when he'd released her, her hair and his face were wet. The next few hours had been a whirl of raw emotion, tears and shouting and questions and endless embraces. Dawn, who stood in the middle of it all, smiled thinly and said nothing.

It was only after the initial relief wore off that anyone noticed that Dawn had come back different. Something about the set of her jaw and the iron glint in her eyes put him on edge, and he noticed the doubtful looks Lucas and Barry cast at her when she wasn't looking. They all found that she wasn't looking an awful lot, now.

The police, of course, asked her endless questions. Where she'd gone, what she'd seen, how she'd gotten back. What happened to Cyrus. All she ever indicated was that Cyrus was no longer a concern, but whatever that implied, she never said any more. Rowan got the impression the agent who'd interviewed her couldn't wait to get away, because after the twenty-fifth interview he'd bowed hurriedly and thanked her for all her trouble before rushing out the door.

Six weeks after her reappearance, Rowan received a frantic call from Johanna, telling him Dawn was gone. A note left on her bedspread was the only notice any of them got. He'd told her not to worry, Dawn was a more than capable girl. She'd turn up again, when she was ready. Even at the time, he had his doubts about the truth in those words.

Of course, Dawn had come back. With her, she'd brought Sunnyshore's gym badge, a Charizard, and a fresh victory over the Elite Four. It was only until later that Cynthia told him Dawn had immediately refused the position as Champion, after an exceptionally vicious trip through the League.

Rowan considered asking Dawn again where she'd gone that day, but thought better of it. Her smiles were more teeth than mirth these days, and he found himself intimidated by the little slip of a girl who he'd watched grow into a predator.

One morning, Dawn left and she didn't come back. It was becoming a habit, and no one thought much of it at first. Spring turned to summer turned to autumn, then winter and back to spring. It was then that they all realized she was gone. Johanna mourned, but she was among the few now. Their neighbors had quickly grown frightened of the thin girl with the flat, shifting eyes and newfound lack of scruples.

It had been fifteen years since then. Not a word had reached them from Dawn, and even Cynthia had long since abandoned her search. Lucas and Barry grew up, had children of their own. Rowan retired after his 70th birthday, relinquishing his post to Lucas. The young man was making quite a name for himself these days, researching mega evolution with so many of his peers.

Rowan often found himself paging through his old photo albums lately. Sometimes he'd stop on a page, eyes roaming tiredly over a picture of a long gone face. Often, it was Dawn, back when her eyes were bright and , he would sigh, and turn the page.