Cyrus's grave has no loving inscription, no dates, and no body underneath.
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( ( eternity doesn't last, dear. ) )
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They say that Cyrus is dead - that Team Galactic is gone.
There are whispers, though, of pokemon and people disappearing at night, and people in glinting silver and black clothes rushing through the streets, shoes made of some strange materials echoing on tarmac.
Every once in a while, someone mutters that they saw four silhouettes in an alleyway; one with spiky hair and a stance like the former Team Galactic boss.
"Cyrus is back from the dead," They say, eyes darting back and forth. "Team Galactic never split up."
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The purple haired woman stands tall next to her fellow commanders - Mars and Saturn and Jupiter, names plucked from the universe; giant planets that devour the size of the earth with their enormity. She wears the same outfit she wore when they resided in shiny buildings instead of dingy bars, and she smiles.
The three of them are not the same - they are insane, twisted; it seems you can't go into the Distortion World without coming out distorted (oh, how they envy the champions who left unscathed), and they had to go into the deepest parts of Giratina's no-mans land to find their leader.
A man stumbles into the dirty joint, and sees the three standing in the midst of dead bodies, with cuts covering them and poison in their veins.
"Mu-murderers!" He slurs, drunk, and Mars laughs a mad little laugh, almost girlish except for the underlying intent. Saturn joins in, his chuckles intertwining with her higher pitched ones.
"So what makes you think we won't kill you, too?" Mars says, giggles between every word.
The mans eyes grow wide, and the last thing he sees is a demented little trio, clad in the colors of Team Galactic.
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Cyrus looks at his three commanders with pride. "So sad these people needed to die," He croons in Mars's ear, in an emotionless sort of way.
Jupiter laughs at his words, speaking for the first time that night. "Not really, though, is it, Cyrus?" She asks, painted fingertips dragging across the bloodied counter. She receives a smile that doesn't reach her boss's eyes, and that is good enough.
"Mars," He says, instead of answering Jupiter, "Go get me some more Pokemon to train on. We must get stronger." His eyes narrow. "This time, I will not lose to that puny girl, or that pathetic woman."
A sick grin spreads across Mars's face. "Of course, sir."
On the way out, she steps on the man who had gotten in their way. There is a sickening crunch from the dead body, and her smirk only gets larger.
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"Little girl," The red head says to the child walking the street, "where is your mother?"
Large, round eyes blink up at her. "At home, missy. She wanted me to get some medicine up there." A chubby finger is pointed to the lit up store at the end of the street. "She's sick, see, missy?" Mars nods, the beginning of a smile creeping across the worried mask.
"With just this little pokemon to protect you?" She says, petting the Clefable next to her.
"Mhm, missy. Mommy said that no one bad is around here. Cleffy isn't little, anyway."
The urge to smile finally takes over. "Stupid, stupid mommy." Mars says, and Purugly comes out from behind her, expression reflecting its masters.
A scream echos for one, two seconds - and then Mars and the pokemon are gone.
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"Good job, Mars."