The sea was cool that night, drifting him away from his slumber and into the stark waters of his lonely domain. He refused to let such a thing disturb him, however; he was not lonely, he was not cold.

The corners of his mouth lifted in a soft smile, and he let the tension in his wings dissolve, leaving them to hover in the water, shifting up and down in time with his breaths. As he calmed, the jagged walls of the rift he called home faded, and the sea thinned until it was crisp air.

In his dream, he was standing atop Mt. Avalanche, overlooking the descending sun amidst gems of sparkling ice, and Articuno stood beside him, their wings brushing against each other.

With his mate next to him, he was not cold; he was as warm as a sunny day.

"I really wish you would visit more often, Lugia," Articuno said finally, drawing Lugia from his thoughts. "Physically, that is. Dreams can only feel so realistic to a non-psychic type."

Lugia turned from the skyline to Articuno's face, which was, to him, equally alluring, but then averted his eyes. "I'm sorry, but… you know why it is that I remain on the seafloor."

"I do, but it's been so long since your last flight, and isolating yourself like this can't be good for you, mentally or physically," Articuno answered, lowering his head to meet Lugia's downcast gaze. "Besides, you've been working on containing your power, haven't you? I know you're afraid, but I think you should try flying again – and I'm saying this only out of concern for you."

The sincerity in the ice bird's eyes was too much for Lugia to bear, so he turned away yet again. He looked out sadly at the snow-capped firs, embraced in a vestigial orange glow – if this weren't a dream, one unchecked flap of his wings and the trees would be bare, with an unrelenting storm surely to follow. Working on containing his power… that had been wishful thinking. There was no permanent solution to his problem; the only regulator of his power was constant vigilance, a precise measurement of the movement of every muscle. Maintaining that for any length of time was utterly exhausting and it never got easier, so every flight above the water only further discouraged him from venturing out again.

Of course, how could he tell his own mate that it hurt to visit him outside of the dream world? The last thing he wanted was for Articuno to feel guilty about wanting to see him, but nor could Lugia allow himself to put more innocent lives at risk.

The gentle tickle of soft feathers against his back interrupted his self-deliberation.

"I'm sorry, Lugia," Articuno sighed, stroking Lugia with his wing, "I know how sensitive you are regarding this subject. I worry, that's all… Come, let's speak of other matters."

It was impossible for Lugia to be despondent when Articuno was so close to him. The touch of the glacial bird's feathers, it was like the sunrise after a winter night. Gradually, a content smile returned to Lugia's face. "Your patience and empathy never cease to amaze me, Articuno," he cooed, and enveloped the ice type with his wings. Articuno tensed at the sudden embrace but soon leaned into it, and nuzzled into Lugia's neck.

In spite of it being just a dream, the physical contact was intoxicating. Perhaps he really should try leaving the sea again? …No, now was not the time to think of such things. Contently, Lugia rest his head on Articuno's, and closed his eyes.

Time became nonexistent for him then, but the dream world went on. With the sun's departure, the mountain's shadows yawned and stretched, eventually engulfing the two avians. Of course, Lugia didn't notice until the increased cold chilled him to the bone. He shivered uncontrollably, and the air began to swirl and transform into the sea, and Articuno dissolved in a stream of bubbles.

With focus and the blink of an eye, the dream was back, and so was the comforting presence of Articuno's body. Still, the cold lingered with a slight pain in the back of his head that prevented Lugia from enjoying the embrace further. Frowning, the psychic type unfolded his wings and gazed at Articuno.

Articuno ran his red eyes over him. "Is something the matter?"

Lugia shook his head. If Articuno didn't notice anything, perhaps the water really was just cooler than usual. "It's nothing," he said, mostly for his own benefit. "Tell me, what has been happening on the surface? How are Zapdos and Moltres?"

Articuno clacked his beak and exhaled sharply. "Those Mankey! They have had yet another falling out over some territory near the Giant Volcano, and I am afraid one of them will do something rash."

"Come now," Lugia said reassuringly, resettling by Articuno's side, "from what I have heard of them, I do not believe they would truly harm one another. Besides, I'm sure you could talk sense into them."

"You're right, though it's not themselves that I fear them harming," the ice bird sighed. "And, ever since they met you, they seem to listen to me less."

Lugia furrowed his brow. "Hmm, perhaps I should talk to them, then."

"Hopefully there will be no need for that, but thank you for the offer."

With a flutter of his wings, Articuno pecked him on the cheek, but it only served to enflame the pain in Lugia's head, and he was forced to recalibrate the dream once more.

Articuno chuckled, evidently misinterpreting Lugia's reaction, and moved to face the mountain slope below. "I suppose I should ask you how you are doing at the bottom of the sea."

Lugia would have answered had he not been distracted by the cold, which had gotten almost unbearable, and there was something else, a mounting dread that was becoming impossible to ignore. "It… it is quite uneventful down here," he said as he glanced around the summit. "Mostly, I dream to pass the time…"

"Is it dark down there?" Articuno asked.

"Yes, yes, it is," Lugia responded automatically. It was then that he truly noticed the sky. Night had just begun, and this dream was his creation, so… where were the stars? Why was the sky pitch black, blacker than the deepest ocean?

"Is it cold?"

"Yes," Lugia said, his voice faltering now. The ground was no longer snow and ice, but rock, and the air thickened until it was water. The dream was breaking apart against his will.

"I'm coming."

The words made Lugia freeze, and with wide eyes he refocused on Articuno, but the ice bird was sprawled on the ground, his heart gouged out and the blood rising in tendrils towards the void above.

"I'm coming!"

Ears ringing, Lugia awoke with a start, his breathing heavy and his heart racing. His eyes darted about the water, but it was dark, too dark. It was cold, too, creeping with an icy sting under his skin that made it difficult to move.

"Articuno, what happened?" he cried out telepathically. "Articuno!"

Lugia grit his teeth and tried to think, but he felt horribly weak. Surely it was just the dream that was compromised? Nothing physically happened to Articuno?

"Articuno's gone," the sea growled. Lugia whipped his head towards the origin of the sound, but everything was black. With great effort, he flapped his wings and let himself float at a higher vantage point. The sound of the rushing water caused by his wing beats soon dissipated, and only silence remained.

There was no light, no sound. Lugia's tail curled inward in fear.

From the corner of his eye he saw a pulse of dark purple energy heading straight for him, and just in time he summoned a protective barrier. The bluish shield cracked under the impact, which kicked up a storm of dust and dislodged pieces of stone from nearby walls. Still, it held, and only disintegrated when the attack ceased.

The moment it did, a massive force slammed into his back, knocking him shortly towards the sea floor. Grunting in surprise more than anything, Lugia turned his head to face his attacker, but there was no one behind him.

Another pulse of purple energy appeared directly in front of him, and he was too late to block it. It struck him in the stomach and knocked him out instantly.

When he came to moments later, he was prone on the rocky sea floor, and it hurt to move, hurt to breathe. His vision was blurry, but in perfect focus he could see the figure of Darkrai floating in front of him. Lugia tried to talk, but all he could do was groan unintelligibly.

"Your dreams, they are fascinating. I think I shall have them," Darkrai rasped, slowly lifting a tattered hand. It began to glow with a pale light, and soon Lugia found himself enveloped by it. "Sleep now."

It was the Dark Void, he knew – he could already feel the song of sleep probe the defensive walls around his consciousness. He couldn't resist it for long, not in his condition. Even if he could, he was in no shape to fight Darkrai; the dark type had surely been Dream Eating for a while now. But why, why would Darkrai attack him?

Struggling to lift his head and keep his eyes open, Lugia looked at Darkrai pleadingly, but it was as though the dark type didn't register his actions. Amidst his fading perception, he realized that something wasn't right about Darkrai's presence, and yet this situation was very real. He'd already lost feeling in all his limbs, and now his head sunk limply back to the earth. Moments after, he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not.

His psychic defenses shattered, and sleep came flooding in with a sensation of soft velvet, a warm and cozy relief to the harsh cold that grasped his being. But there was no way he was going to let himself be taken so easily. With the last sliver of his consciousness, he knew there was only one possibility of escape, and he took it.

"Ah, fascinating," Darkrai said expressionlessly, but for Lugia the words were a lullaby.

At last, the legendary bird's mind went dark.