When Gladion woke up, it felt as if his skull really had been split open. His head throbbed as he sat up, the lights overhead burning his eyes when he opened them. Whatever had happened back there…It hadn't hit anyone else, had it? Especially not if that throbbing feeling meant that-

No. He couldn't imagine the possibility. Not even a curiosity regarding Nihilego stuck out in his mind. He was fine, wasn't he? Of course. He'd be fine, he wouldn't be like her. He'd never let himself become that.

Besides…Aether had the cure for it.

Gladion simply repeated that to himself, mentally, again and again. Aether can cure it, Aether can cure itThey'd cured enough employees, they'd be able to help him, regardless of what happened.

It didn't reassure him at all.

Aside from his own shaky breaths and choked cries, accompanying the shuddering that had taken him over, there was nothing in the room, as far as Gladion was concerned. It was just another part of the medical wing. Not a single window to the outside, and the smell…He hated the smell more than anything. No matter what anyone did, the smell of the place was stale against Gladion's nose, rich with the sharp aroma of any number of things they were using to mask the stench of illness.

He could feel sickness rising in him once again, but this time he didn't succumb, and he wondered why. He wondered why suddenly the being that had caused Lusamine to lose herself was making him far less sick than the thoughts of Lusamine herself. Was it the memories? The memories that had come back only a day and a half ago? Or was it simply that he hadn't seen what Moon and Lillie had, that he hadn't seen Nihilego at its worst until however long ago he'd collapsed?

Or maybe, just maybe, nothing was different.

Maybe it was just a good day for him.

The door to the room opened. Gladion remained still, only watching as a nurse walked in.

"Mr. Blumenthal?"

Gladion didn't recognize the man's voice. He practically buried his face in his pillow as he awaited the first question:

"How are you feeling, sir?"

If there was one thing Gladion couldn't deny once he'd taken the position of president, it was that being called "sir" was incredibly awkward. Perhaps…No, it was definitely Team Skull. Skull had influenced him, he'd known it for the extent of those long two years waiting for that chance to rescue Lillie. They'd been his family, in a way. To suddenly be greeted by such formality from anyone at all was far more jarring than it should have been.

"…I…I'm fine," Gladion mumbled, "Headache aside. How long was I out?"

"Hmm…You've been unconscious for six hours, sir. It's currently four-sixteen in the morning." Gladion could hear the nurse tapping a pen against his chin as he spoke. "Nothing else?"

"Yes. It's only a headache."

Gladion hardly showed any indication that he was fazed by what he'd been told. It was shocking, or it would have been in any other situation, but at that point,

The nurse's pen scratched against a clipboard, all the while he remained silent save for a few idle hums.

"In that case," the nurse continued, "We'll need to begin a few tests, sir. While you likely only collapsed from stress, Aether has required us to run these given your encounter with Nihilego. While we plan to keep you here for a few days, I've been informed that little will be impacted. You will still be required to attend a meeting with Interpol, and-"

"Little," Gladion hissed, "You say that little is going to change?! I shouldn't be here. I should be outside, Silvally and I both should! We had our own goals, and we're not going to let this get in the way. Is Phoebe still here?!"

A deep sigh echoed through the room.

"…I'd expected such a reaction," the nurse stated, his voice thick with exhaustion, "Yes, Phoebe is still here. She hasn't been allowed to leave Aether. I wouldn't expect her to simply leave you anyway, Mr. President. Not after last night."

Gladion felt his body go still. No longer did he shiver in violent anger; he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open. He…wouldn't be going to Hoenn, not as soon as he'd thought, and he couldn't tell if he'd even get the opportunity to head over in the future. He wanted to react worse. He wanted to scream, to protest everything as loudly as he could, but in the end, it was pointless. He'd completely burned himself out, forcing himself to lay still for however long the medical staff would let him.

He still had so many questions, and not a single answer.

Gladion barely picked up on the nurse's final words, only managing to gather that there'd be testing done soon.

How soon, it didn't matter.

As the door closed, as the voice of the nurse was audible from the hallway, even as he began to hear Wicke's voice, Gladion couldn't do a thing. His body felt glued to the bed.

The sounds of voices grew louder as he felt sleep take hold of him, only to suddenly be replaced by an otherworldly silence.

Only time would tell if dreams greeted him.


"…That will be all."

A bright light flickered over white metal in one of Aether Paradise's few isolated rooms. A table and two chairs had been set up. Between the two figures in the room, a tape recorder had been placed.

One of the two could hardly believe that such an ancient thing was being used for questioning, to the point of wondering where exactly the other had found it.

The other could hardly believe her own unprofessional approach to such a thing.

Anabel tapped her fingers against the table, her gloves muting the sound considerably as she awaited Phoebe's reply. To think that something had come up just as Looker had received the reports from Unova…It was hardly a coincidence. The thought that the Beasts potentially followed a pattern with their actions was certainly reassuring, but the thought of Phoebe's account of the situation still stuck out in Anabel's mind.

Calm. Steven had been calm. It was a far cry from what little they knew about the Meteor Falls incident.

This wasn't a description of the broken man they'd found in the falls, and it was hardly the Steven that had committed the act. Anabel couldn't let herself fall victim to any sort of bias, yet at the same time, the idea that Nihilego had been the one responsible for everything, that he'd been little more than a puppet of sorts to the Beast…

It wouldn't leave her head. Not when the symptoms he was showing were so different from those Lusamine had apparently shown.

Anabel supposed she'd have to wait for Faba's recount of the situation before she made any conclusions, though.

"A…All right." Tension echoed in Phoebe's faint words. "So…We'll be in contact from here on out, then?"

Anabel nodded, her expression becoming considerably lighter. There was no telling what Phoebe would do in the future, but so long as she was willing to hear from Interpol again…

"Indeed," Anabel replied, "Thank you for being so open about your visit here."

"It's no problem at all!" Phoebe stood up, taking in a deep breath. Anabel supposed that the air had felt just as suffocating to both people she'd questioned that night. "I was relieved to see you arrive so soon, actually…Anyway, I'll be taking my leave."

Phoebe bowed before turning to walk away, only to be briefly interrupted by Anabel.

"Before I forget…If I may repeat myself," Anabel sighed, "You're not to leave Aether Paradise tonight, and you're not to resume your investigation until Interpol has contacted you again.

"It's the same for you, though, isn't it? Knowing that makes things a little more palatable." The door in front of Phoebe finally opened, and she stepped out, grinning. "Let me take a guess…you've done that to everyone else, haven't you? How many people have run off on you by now?"

Without missing a beat, Anabel spoke two words: "That's confidential."

"Ahaha! I thought so. Well, good night, and good luck. I'll be here if you need me!"

Phoebe's light, ringing laughter echoed through the hallways of Aether's lower levels as she ran off, leaving Anabel to wonder what the circumstances of the incident meant for the UB Task Force.

At the very least, they had Moon alongside them this time, but would it be enough just to have her working with them?

No…it was hardly enough.

They needed more than they had, even if more would come with time. Moon wasn't enough. They needed more trainers on her level.

As Anabel stood up from where she sat, picking up the tape recorder, a thought began to tug at the back of her mind.

Perhaps it was time to look into Alola's best trainers.


Wicke's eyelids had grown heavier than ever as she lumbered towards the medical wing, praying she'd be able to get even a few minutes of sleep before dawn finally hit. Mentally, she repeated the day's schedule, knowing that there was a good chance it'd be changed as time passed.

After the night's events, nothing would be able to surprise her.

Conference at eight-thirty. Meet with Steven exactly twelve hours later if that's still allowed. The in between can't be predicted today. Whatever sources of caffeine you can find, take advantage of those.

At that point, trying to convince herself that there would be some sort of regularity in her future was the only thing keeping Wicke going through the endless early morning. Just a few more things to check up on. A few more things and she'd be able to take that much-needed nap. The anxiety stabbing at her chest had dulled considerably, leaving her simply tired from everything.

More than anything, her concern was for Gladion. Steven was one thing. What had happened was certainly worrying, especially when Faba's condition was proof enough that Steven was far from harmless in his state. In the end, though, Wicke couldn't push the thought of Gladion out of her head. There had to be some way to aid him.

A part of her only wanted the sense of atonement that would come from that. It was downright sickening to think about that alongside her actions against Lusamine-or rather, her lack of action-but it remained. The thought that Gladion needed her help once again was enough to get Wicke to stay up and search for her own way of helping him.

HAND PRINT IDENTIFIED. VOICE KEY REQUIRED FOR CONFIRMATION.

"Wicke."

Wicke's voice came out as a strained whisper when she spoke. It felt like there were thorns in her throat as she stood, trying desperately to hold back a coughing fit as the door in front of her opened.

VOICE KEY IDENTIFIED. WELCOME, BRANCH CHIEF WICKE.

A shudder ran down Wicke's spine as she stepped into the same hallway she'd walked through for the past few days, her eyes locked on the area ahead.

Just like it was during her first visit. Staff walking down the hallway towards Steven's room, no doubt as plagued by exhaustion as she was. The same few people, led by the exact same person.

"Oh…? Wicke." Calla's voice was far softer than usual as she walked forward, gesturing for those behind her to keep moving. "I take it you're here to ask about everyone's conditions? It's been…quite a night, I must say."

"Y-Yes…" Wicke wheezed, "Is Faba awake yet?"

Calla shook her head, a dejected look crossing her face.

"Nobody is," she sighed, "Neither Faba nor Gladion are showing signs of being affected by Nihilego's venom, but until we run the usual tests, nothing is certain. Steven, on the other hand…We're not sure what will become of him from here. After he was returned to his room, Nihilego's markings appeared on his face, just like how you'd described him. For now, he's asleep, but we're not sure what will happen now. We're all hoping that he wakes up before the conference starts, but…Nothing is certain, Wicke. As things can be in the field of medicine."

"I see…Thank you," Wicke replied, "For everything you've done. If anything else comes up, I'll be available."

As Wicke turned to walk away, she was stopped by Calla's voice once more.

"Rest. I need you to rest once you're able," Calla suddenly said, "You can't carry the entirety of Aether's burdens on your shoulders, Wicke."

Calla's tone was slightly biting, but Wicke hardly blamed her.

"Y…You're…I'm sorry," Wicke croaked, "You're absolutely right. I'll have a spare moment in a bit…Nobody can refuse such a request when it's coming from you, anyway."

Calla let out a soft, airy chuckle at this.

"I'm not heading such an important part of Aether for nothing," she teased, "I won't hold you back any more. My duties of meeting you are going to be handed off to Arum after this, though…Don't expect her to let you just waltz in whenever you please!"

Wicke couldn't help but return the laugh. Calla's lighthearted tone at that moment was a welcome sight in such a dark time, even if this would be their last meeting for some time.

Perhaps, though, that tone was a sign of just how dire things had become.

"Now go on," Calla continued, turning away, "Do what you must, but please remember to take a moment to rest before the conference, at least. Until then, I have my own duties to attend to. If you don't mind…"

Calla left without another word, disappearing down the hallway she'd come from and leaving Wicke to ponder everything for a moment. Everyone was busy with something, and she was left with the duty of overseeing things until Gladion was able to stand again. On top of that, Steven's behavior had to be monitored so carefully, lest he be allowed to get out again…

Another day that could only be described as "interesting" lay ahead of her, at least if she could keep her eyes open long enough to make it through everything.


Moon yawned gently as she passed Aether House, wondering if Acerola was awake at such an early hour. Truth be told, she hardly ever saw Acerola out during the daylight hours, not unless a challenger was at the League. Moon had always been curious about how Acerola lived under the night sky like she did, awake during a time that seemed far from appropriate for someone of her status.

Even if the thought of visiting was tempting, it'd have to wait. Moon had been given her orders, and whoever her "escort" to Unova was…

No, she had a very good idea of who it was, and clearly, they'd agreed to this if the sounds of voices from the nearby beach was any indication. Quickly dashing over to the nearest patch of tall grass, she ducked down and watched as the two figures conversed.

One of them was smaller, clearly some stranger that had been roped into a game with the other. The most notable thing about him was the hoodie he was wearing, which seemed about two sizes too large and hung off him as he stood with hunched, nervous posture.

The other, standing with their arms tucked into the sleeves of their kimono and looking down at the stranger with a steely glare, was a very displeased Grimsley.

Cards had been scattered at their feet. Card flip? Yes, it had to be card flip. Moon had never played it herself, but she'd known about it from all her time living in Celadon. She could recognize a game of it anywhere.

"…You've put up quite a fight, I'll give you that, but I'd like to know why you're so shocked that you lost. Did you think I wouldn't notice that ace up your sleeve?"

Grimsley's arms parted and they grabbed the stranger's chin in one swift movement, keeping their grip gentle.

"Erk! I-I…Y-Yes, o-of course, I was-"

"Were you trying to con me?" Grimsley asked, snickering to themself as their expression suddenly lightened, "And here I thought you'd lose gracefully. Do I have to repeat what I said when you lost to my team?"

The stranger shook his head, squirming in the Elite's grasp before Grimsley simply let go, folding their arms once more as their opponent dropped to the ground unceremoniously.

Getting up and dusting off their legs, the stranger stammered out a response.

"N-n-n-no, of course y-you don't…T-There are bad w-ways to win a-and good ways t-to lose, r-right?"

Smirking, Grimsley turned away.

"Exactly. You'll need to think back to what you learned from such actions," they explained, "And think about whether or not such actions are worth it. After all…"

Grimsley turned back, baring their teeth. Even from a distance, Moon could see that there was something odd about them-It was as if Grimsley had actual fangs.

"…I'd hate to see what would happen if you did this to someone who wasless forgiving."

Their opponent let out a yelp, practically leaping back as Grimsley turned back.

There was hardly any outright malice in Grimsley's face, at least from what Moon could see. Even with their intimidating words, they only struck her as playful, though their methods of entertaining themself in such a situation were far from what she'd expect from a member of any Elite Four.

Unova's Champion had to have said something about this sort of behavior…hadn't they?

"Ahaha…I'm sorry," Grimsley chuckled, "It's not right of me to treat you this way. I must say, you play very well. I can hardly believe you feel the need to cheat your way through a game."

The stranger stood up straighter at this sentence.

"Y-You…really think so?" he asked, "I…I dunno what to say here. G-Guess it's just the old Skull days coming back to me. A-Are y-you just gonna…let me go, then?"

"I don't see any need to harass you for such a thing." Grimsley shook their head, nostalgia shining in their eyes as they continued. "I know plenty about making bad decisions. So go on. Somebody's here to meet with me…"

Grimsley turned towards the tall grass Moon was hiding in, causing her to let out a cry of shock and emerge from her hiding spot. Had he known the entire time?

"…And she's here to talk about official League business. If you wouldn't mind, please leave us alone for now."

"Y-Yes, of course!" the stranger replied, barely taking note of Moon, "T-Thank you, Grimsley! Sorry for the trouble!"

As the unfamiliar trainer dashed off, Moon stepped down to the nearby beach, sheepishly looking to Grimsley.

"Good morning, Moon," Grimsley said, the mischief in their face replaced with an odd sort of calm, "As you might have guessed, I'm your escort to Unova. Looker has informed not only me, but our Champion, Iris, of the current situation, though I was hoping to hear more about the Beasts from you, if you're willing to talk about them."

"O-Oh," Moon was surprised to hear such a request so soon-Interpol had been far more open with Grimsley than she'd thought they would be. "Yeah, I can talk about the Beasts! Maybe n-not here, but I'll tell you what I know! When are we leaving?"

"We have just under an hour to get to Malie's marina," Grimsley explained, "If you need to say any last-minute goodbyes, now would be the best time. I'll be waiting until then."

"A-An hour?!" Moon gasped, feeling a pang of grief hit her chest, "B-But…Everyone only just learned that I'm leaving, and…Aaargh! Hau, Sun, everyone…Nobody knows what's going to…I-I know it's kinda sudden, but I'm scared, Uncle Grimsley. I'm really scared of what's gonna happen, a-and I thought…"

Grimsley gently placed a hand over Moon's shoulder.

"…I've been in your position, Moon," they continued, "Having to leave so suddenly is as stressful now as it was when I was leaving Unova. It's hardly fair to expect you to suddenly grow up simply because you're the Champion. While the most I can do as we leave is offer my sympathies, I believe that you and Iris should meet. She may be able to help you now that you've had so much responsibility thrust upon you."

Moon moved closer to Grimsley, suddenly realizing that the tears she'd been holding back for over a night were beginning to flow.

"Y-You really think…" Moon paused to cover one of her eyes with her hand for a brief moment. "You think she's gonna…Y-Yeah…I…I gotta m-meet another Champion! I gotta!"

Grimsley lifted their hand, laughing quietly at the sudden surge of emotion from Moon.

"All right, then it's agreed," they reassured, "Once we're in Unova, we'll have to return to the League anyway. I'll give you a little time with her before anything else happens. Is this okay?"

Moon leapt forward, pulling Grimsley into a tight hug without even thinking. Burying her face in his kimono, she barely spoke, and after they'd recovered from the surprise of it all, neither did Grimsley.

It was all right. It was all going to be all right.

Unova awaited, after all, and with it would come adventure.


Gladion couldn't make out his surroundings. He stood, practically nailed to the spot he was in, surrounded by nothing but an empty, lifeless void, with a few blurry shapes in the distance separating the ground from an endless dark sky.

The ground below him was stark white and smooth as glass. Looking down was enough to cause the now-dulled pain in his head to intensify, just slightly, as the sharp light hit his eyes. Shadows seemed to move around in the distance, ducking behind the strange objects. Obelisks of some sort? Yes, they looked like obelisks, endlessly stretching towards the sky. Some had been broken in two, and their remains were scattered on the ground below.

There was no doubt that he was dreaming, but something felt wrong. It was as if someone was whispering to him constantly. Though he could barely make out their words, he knew exactly what this voice was trying to say.

"Mister…Gladion…?"

He couldn't even see where the voice might have been coming from.

Though he tried to move, Gladion felt his limbs weighed down, stuck in their position by some strange force.

He could only utter two words: "Yes, I'm-"

The world around him seemed to fade out, and in its place came the same mechanical hum that he'd heard for so long already.

His eyes were shut tightly, and even as the tapping of claws against tile hit his ears, he couldn't move. Chained down once again, and desperate for an escape. His mind seemed to scream out that he needed to move his limbs, but nothing came out of it.

Silvally let out a huff as they awaited their trainer's awakening.

It felt like hours had passed when Gladion finally managed to move his arms, gently lifting himself up and allowing Silvally to sniff away at his neck.

"E-Easy, Silvally," he breathed, "I'm fine, see? Nothing's happened."

Silvally backed away and lay down, their trainer immediately doing the same.

The lights in his room had been turned off.

It was far from the time the conference would be happening. He had time to rest, time to forget about the dream he'd just had and let himself prepare mentally for what was coming.

He wanted to say he'd taken the position of president far too early. He wanted to tell himself that he was being forced to grow up, but he knew that such a statement was a bold-faced lie.

He'd already grown up. He was sure of it. Lusamine had forced him to run, abandoning any semblance of innocence as he stepped into the world, being considered an adult at only eleven.

With that in mind, he was more than ready for a simple conference. He'd be able to talk with anyone about Steven, about Phoebe, and about what to do about any future conflicts. He would be fine.

Desperately telling himself that, Gladion closed his eyes once more.

Eight-thirty. He just had to make it to then.