It's been one year. The earth has made an entire revolution around the sun. No part of it recognizes how close it came to being annihilated, nor does it care. Our planet was never part of some great design, nor was life anything more than a curious accident.
It will continue to spin around in its predictable orbit, never daring to venture away or try anything new. Even when the sun starts to die, expand, and consume everything in its path, Earth will obediently stay in place. Mercury will go first. Then Venus. And if humanity's too stupid to figure out a way to escape, we'll be snuffed out.
No trace of us will remain. When Earth dies; so too will our history, our monuments, and all the precious things our ancestors built to withstand the test of time. Maybe we'll survive in deep space…or we won't. So far as the universe is concerned, that's of no consequence.
We miscalculated.
The Red Chains were designed to control Dialga and Palkia, but none of our research factored in the possibility of Giratina making an appearance, too. Mars and Jupiter were to escort you to Spear Pillar. Charon and I stayed behind in headquarters to supervise your exploration of the new world.
But I heard everything. I now realize you were never fully honest with me. I'd known about the plans for a new world, but not that you were willing to sacrifice this world—and everyone in it—to have one all to yourself.
One moment, I am watching a feed of you standing before these legendary creatures, ready to witness the birth of a different universe. The next, a third Pokémon emerges from the shadows and consumes you.
If my close my eyes, I can still hear Mars and Jupiter scream because they can't see you. I can't, either, and so I panic. They just keep calling your name, over and over, thinking that will somehow summon you back. It doesn't. There is nothing.
Some unknown person once said that insanity is defined as repeatedly performing the same action and expecting different outcomes. The quote was misattributed to Albert Einstein. No matter who said it, I must have looked and sounded insane because I did exactly that. I kept sending my signal to your transceiver, hoping for any sign of life.
"Please respond!" I'm certain I said it three, thirty, possibly even three hundred times.
I felt all those things you worked so hard to eradicate: terror, dread, loss, panic. Were you there to watch or hear me, you'd be disappointed. I proved in that moment how flawed and incomplete a creature I truly was.
I also realized how deep my love for you went. It wasn't anything intimate, nor was it romantic. Even if it were, you'd never reciprocate. You weren't that kind of person. And even if I'd felt such things in the past, at least Team Galactic managed to quash that.
The type of love I felt for you wasn't that of a lover, a brother, a parent, or a child. It wasn't even that of a friend. I loved you the way a disciple loved his god, and I nearly helped you destroy heaven and earth to prove that.
I loved the fact you were a walking contradiction. As much as you bottled up and repressed your own feelings, they still occasionally leaked out. I heard it in your speeches. You always started out as calm and stoic, but your words turned more excitable as the lecture went on. You rallied the spirit in our grunts, as well as in your Commanders. You got us to believe in you, all by using the thing you hated most to control others.
I wanted to see what you were going to do, but I never saw you again. You responded once…and only once.
You told me not to look for you.
I tried to get you to tell me where you were. In retrospect, that was foolish. Even if I knew, what could I possibly do to help you? Did you even want me to help you? You didn't answer, so I assume not.
You found what you wanted. There was no need to concern yourself with this world anymore.
I understood.
Not so long ago, the child who kept interfering with our plans made a visit to Veilstone City. They've gone on to be Champion. Sometimes I'll see their face on the news. In fact, just a couple of months ago, Charon managed to convince Mars and Jupiter to assist him with some harebrained scheme on Stark Mountain. The child interfered with that, too.
I hadn't expected to see them in person again. We talked for a little while about what happened at Spear Pillar. They asked about you, too: wanting to know if I'd seen or heard anything.
A world without spirit…who would want such a thing? And what to do with Team Galactic?
I won't be a walking paradox. I understand that extremism isn't going to solve anything. I told them that our commercials would stop being lies: that we really will search for new sources of energy.
It isn't in my capacity to create a new world, but maybe I can advance the existing one. Everything is in my hands now.
I understand.