Author's Note: More special episode five; we're not done with this yet. I particularly liked writing this part from Dusknoir's point of view, though, because we have some more ignored epiphanies, as well as dancing around a reveal that will come next chapter. Also, him repeatedly commenting on Leaf's condition is probably just Dusknoir doing the usual and trying to convince himself that things are going on track (YMMV on how successful he is, of course). ...Though it was weird to me actually using "Grovyle" here since I'm so used to referring to him as Leaf by now, but Dusknoir may or may not actually know his name, so there you go.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Purpose

It was almost too easy, how well this had gone so far.

Dusknoir could tell Grovyle didn't completely trust him yet. That much was obvious; cautious as he was, the Grass-Type wasn't very good at hiding his emotions. But he hadn't asked nearly as many questions as Dusknoir had expected, and he'd let him tag along thus far.

If it hadn't been exactly what he'd hoped for, Dusknoir would've been suspicious. But, as it stood, he was instead silently celebrating.

The two of them materialized near Dusk Forest, and Dusknoir idly stretched his arms as Grovyle staggered around awkwardly. Traveling through the shadows like that was always trickier with more than one Pokémon, and it left him feeling numb for a few…well, not 'seconds,' really, but the expression was close enough. Still, Dusknoir got over it quickly enough, and he glanced over at his current charge.

"Are you all right?"

He couldn't have Grovyle losing his steam just yet, after all. However, his doubts were dispelled by the huffy expression he got in return. Grovyle's reactions shifting from cold to childishly snappy were…almost entertaining, in a way. It honestly reminded Dusknoir of Missy—a thought which put a rare pang of guilt in his chest. He pushed that aside when Grovyle replied verbally, though.

"I'm perfectly fine! Now hurry up—we've got to find Celebi!"

Grovyle immediately took off, darting through the trees ahead of them. He was just as fast as ever by now, Dusknoir thought as he moved to keep up. Good; he'd need that later. Dusknoir wasn't sure how much of it was his actual strength returning and how much of it was Grovyle's sheer stubborn determination, but he supposed the two were close enough to make little practical difference.

At any rate, at least Dusknoir was able to follow him well enough. His own strength was returning bit by bit, but he still had a dull throb in his stomach every now and then. It was minor enough that he was generally able to push it aside, though. And besides, he thought as his eye lingered on Grovyle, if all went according to plan, then it wouldn't matter for much longer anyway.

It was also fortunate that Grovyle seemed to know the forest well enough. Dusknoir had been through Dusk Forest a handful of times himself—in search of Celebi, of course—but it meant Dusknoir could let him lead. Giving Grovyle the illusion of freedom was important. It also meant that Grovyle knew what to expect when it came to fights.

While he wanted to delay things here and there, Dusknoir needed Grovyle in top condition, and he needed it soon. However, Grovyle could handle the hordes of Rhyperior and Hippowdon well enough, which made it easier for him to build his strength back up. Dusknoir watched carefully as he took out the occasional Haunter and Drifloon with Shadow Ball; yes, Grovyle seemed to be doing just fine. Perfect.

Finally, they arrived at the clearing in the middle of Dusk Forest. Grovyle looked around wildly, panting for air as he took a few steps forward. He probably didn't want to make too much noise, but he proceeded to shout for his friend anyway.

"Celebi?" Grovyle called. "…Celebi, are you there?"

He was met with silence—of course he was. Dusknoir remained quiet himself, eyeing Grovyle as the Grass-Type crept a little further away. The nerves were getting more obvious in his posture now; he was hunched over slightly and looking around more rapidly.

"She's…not answering," Grovyle muttered. "Maybe she's hiding somewhere else, or…"

"Maybe she got caught," Dusknoir suggested, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible.

"She wouldn't get caught!" Grovyle snapped, jerking around to look at him. "Not even by Primal Dialga, and especially not by the Sableye! She just has to be in another one of her usual spots, is all…"

There was something in the tone of his voice towards the end that suggested maybe Grovyle doubted it. Dusknoir felt a small twinge of satisfaction at the uncertainty creeping onto his face, but he kept his own expression impartial as he went on.

"Well, maybe we could spare the time to check one or two of these 'usual places,' if it would make you feel better…"

Grovyle sighed. "I'd really like to be sure, but—"

"Wheh-heh! There they are!"

He was cut off by the cackling of several Sableye. Six of them this time, and they were right on cue. Grovyle hissed at them as his eyes narrowed, and he automatically raised his claws into a defensive stance. Dusknoir carefully turned around and backed towards him, glancing around at the pack of Sableye closing in on them.

They knew what was going on, and he knew they hadn't been too offended at his part in their last fight. Dusknoir also knew they wouldn't be too upset if he had to get rough here, either. It was the perfect opportunity to get a better view of Grovyle's condition—which was exactly the point.

But Dusknoir couldn't say any of that aloud, nor could he do anything to give away the full plan. Fortunately, he was spared having to speak when Grovyle did it for him.

"We don't have time for this!" he growled. "Get out of our way!"

"Never, wheh-heh-heh!" one of them cackled.

"Dusknoir, watch yourself! Here they come!"

He smirked lightly before replying, "You don't have to tell me that, Grovyle!"

With that, he swung a fist at the nearest approaching Sableye, ice crystals forming around his fingers. Dusknoir's eye widened slightly—his swing was a bit stronger than he'd intended, and the Ice Punch came quickly enough that it struck the imp square in the face. The smaller Pokémon staggered back with a yelp before crumpling to the ground.

…Well, Dusknoir supposed that was a good thing. The punch had admittedly been satisfying. It seemed he was finally starting to recover from that little trick Claire and her friends had pulled back at the Rainbow Stoneship. And that thought alone was enough for him to take another enthusiastic swing at the next Sableye. He was sent flying, waving his arms around as he crashed into his nearly-unconscious comrade.

Goodness, that felt nice. Dusknoir stretched as he glanced over his shoulder at Grovyle. The Grass-Type had taken care of one Sableye already, and was currently trying to shake one off that had clamped down on his arm. A swift strike of Leaf Blade was enough to loosen the ghost's jaws, and it was followed up by an Absorb. Sableye staggered away, groaning and clutching his head, before falling to the ground.

Good—Grovyle was doing just fine. Still…there were two Sableye left, and they were both fast approaching him. Dusknoir quickly launched a Shadow Ball at one of them, and his surprised shriek startled the other. Grovyle blinked, but he didn't waste the opportunity. He rammed into the final Sableye, lashing out with another Leaf Blade. Dusknoir followed it up with an Ice Punch, air whizzing around his arm as the attack landed.

As the Sableye fell into an awkward sitting position, Dusknoir looked around to assess the damage. Most of them were still in semi-conscious heaps on the ground. They'd be fine soon, but the fight had done enough damage to satisfy Grovyle. He nodded as his eyes fell on the one Dusknoir had hit with Shadow Ball earlier. He was in the best condition of the lot, and he tried to scramble away from Grovyle, but he wasn't quite fast enough to do so.

"Wheh! Lemme go!" he demanded. "You already got everyone else!"

"Exactly; I just want to ask you something," Grovyle shot back. "And you'll answer if you don't want to end up like them!"

Sableye whimpered but nodded in response, and Grovyle immediately went on.

"Primal Dialga hasn't been here recently, has he? If you're here, and you're listening to either him or that new follower of his…then it seems likely that either one of them would be nearby."

Ah, so that had occurred to Grovyle after all. Dusknoir knew he wasn't stupid; it was only a matter of time until he started getting suspicious. Well, he supposed it spared him the trouble of having to make another show of asking himself.

Sableye gave him a toothy smirk before replying. "You're pretty smart, wheh-heh! Master Dialga was just here. I saw him go off with Celebi myself!"

"What?" Grovyle's eyes widened, and his grip on the ghost's arm tightened. "You're lying! There's no way he'd capture Celebi!"

"That hurts!" Sableye huffed. When Grovyle guiltily loosened his grip, he went on, "Anyway, you can believe me or not, wheh-heh… But don't you wanna be sure? You should go after them and find out yourself!"

"Fine, then—where'd they go?"

"I heard it was Frozen Island, but there's no way you're gonna get there quick enough," Sableye replied smugly. "Still, good luck and all that!"

Grovyle slowly released him, and Sableye promptly sped off. A few of the others started to stir, and they fled as well upon seeing their friend run away. Dusknoir ignored them to focus on Grovyle; he was staring off into the distance, not really looking at anything in particular. Then, his leaves started to shake, and he clenched his claws as he looked over at Dusknoir.

"We're too late. We were too late, and I failed Celebi," he muttered. "Whatever else happens…I need to help her. Where's Frozen Island?"

"It's far to the south of here." Dusknoir shrugged, rubbing the side of his head in pretend thought. "I can't get us all the way there, but…I should be able to get close. I know some Pokémon who can send us the rest of the way."

Grovyle sighed and nodded. "All right…I'm ready this time. Let's go."

Dusknoir nodded as well and put a hand on Grovyle's shoulder. He closed his eye and focused, feeling the long-cast shadows from the nearby trees shift and start to envelope them. It was a feeling he had long since gotten used to, and the dissolving sensation almost felt good to him. Still, Dusknoir could feel Grovyle cringing as the darkness swallowed them up—he supposed it would take him much longer to get used to.

(The fact that he'd never need to get used to it occurred to Dusknoir as they were whisked away, and he was glad that it was too dark for Grovyle to see the smirk crossing his stomach.)

Soon enough, they materialized on a cliff overlooking a steep drop into nothingness. Another cliff rose above them to the side, and there was a cavern entrance in front of them. Grovyle gasped for air as he looked around and got his bearings.

"What is this place?" he panted.

"I believe the Porygon call it the Spacial Cliffs," Dusknoir replied. He paused before adding, "That's who we're meeting with—the Porygon live on a plateau just beyond the cave, and they should be able to transmit us to Frozen Island."

"I suppose it was too much to send us straight to them," Grovyle muttered dryly.

"It is harder to do that with multiple travelers. I beg your pardon, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"…Sorry. Let's go."

Oh? Dusknoir blinked as he let Grovyle take the lead again. He couldn't tell if the apology was genuine or simply out of obligation, yet it was somehow more than he expected. If nothing else, he supposed Grovyle's concern about Celebi was the real thing, so perhaps it was just bleeding over into his other reactions.

…It almost made him jealous, in a way. Dusknoir had only ever used his concerns about others to fuel his own shortcomings, after all. Worrying was an excuse to let things get worse, because they'd agree with the initial sentiment, right? At some point or another, Dusknoir had let "don't destroy those he cared about" turn into "well, his fear of death was okay if no one else wanted to die; therefore, he'd keep letting them suffer and feeding the cycle."

He paused. What was he thinking? No. Dusknoir was not going to do this—not at this phase of the plan. He was too close—he was almost there! If they could just get to Frozen Island, then everything would be on course. Dusknoir was not going to let a moment's doubt ruin everything! He shuddered, feeling repulsed at the twinge of emotion.

Up ahead of him, Grovyle had just knocked out a Banette. He turned slightly to look at Dusknoir, blinking. Ah, of course; he'd gotten behind somewhere in there, and Dusknoir shook himself and caught up.

"You were doing so well before; you're not feeling worse now, are you?"

"That's not concern I hear from you, is it?" Dusknoir chuckled, partly at the irony of his own words. "No; I've been feeling better, thank you."

"…Well, then, sorry I asked," Grovyle muttered.

There, that was better. Now Grovyle was back to the "cooperative but still mildly antagonistic" stage, and that was something Dusknoir could handle. Having the occasional enemy to fight helped, too. It was easy to focus on knocking out the local Haunter and Koffing—it was methodical and impersonal, after all.

And keeping things methodical and impersonal was what Dusknoir was good at, if only for coping's sake.

They finally arrived at the plateau on the opposite side of the cave, and it led to another sharp drop into nothingness. The pair of Porygon were there as expected, and they jumped upon seeing Dusknoir. He wasn't entirely sure how much they knew. Of course he'd had the Sableye tell them he was coming, and that Grovyle would be with him. Dusknoir hoped they hadn't said too much, though, just in case the Porygon spilled it.

"Ah—Lord Dusknoir, sir!" one of them said. "You, er…you are with…"

Dusknoir stole a glance over his shoulder. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"N-no, of course not!" the other quickly added. "Where is it you're heading?"

"Frozen Island. I trust there's no issue with that?"

"O-of course not!" the first one replied. "Both of you stand over there, and we'll send you right away!"

Dusknoir nodded and gestured to Grovyle. The two of them moved between the Porygon, and the Normal-Types' eyes started to glow. Beams of light slowly moved over Dusknoir and Grovyle's bodies before they were enveloped in a bright flash.

It was a similar yet different feeling from his preferred method of transportation. There was the slight sensation of being dissolved, yet it was combined with a strange lurch that made Dusknoir feel like he was being flung a great distance. He'd only used it a handful of times, as it wasn't something he enjoyed much. Still, it worked—soon enough, they materialized in a wide field of snow.

Beside him, Grovyle grumbled something under his breath and shook himself. Dusknoir admittedly still felt numb in some places, and he idly stretched as he glanced around. They were still a little ways from their destination yet, but that was fine—it gave Master Dialga more time.

"…This is Frozen Island?" Grovyle said eventually.

Dusknoir nodded. "I believe it was called Blizzard Island in the past. Popular treasure hunting place, from what I've heard. Now, it's considered far too dangerous to even get in and out of without some kind of help, though."

Granted, it wasn't just due to damage from the paralysis, but Grovyle didn't need to know that. Dusknoir watched him glance around some more; finally, Grovyle shrugged and nodded at him.

"Well, I suppose that explains why they never got very far here," he muttered. "But I can't let that stop me from finding Celebi and Dialga."

Dusknoir blinked. "They?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Grovyle shook his head. "Come on."

Dusknoir stared at him contemplatively. Who would come here looking for something? Well, besides him and besides Master Dialga, of course. But—oh. Of course. Perhaps Claire and her family had come here at some point or another, in which case it was a miracle (for them, at least) that they'd even managed to get onto the island at all.

Ah, well; Dusknoir shook himself and hurried after Grovyle. Soon enough, Claire wouldn't matter; not really. Of course, she mattered in the sense that he'd have to find her and hope that she was still in the Hidden Land. But other than that…

No, she wouldn't matter very much at all after that. Dusknoir just had to keep himself focused, and stop worrying about insignificant details. He was fine.

They'd arrived near a steep mountain, and Grovyle had gotten ahead of him again. The path upwards was sharp and winding and littered with large patches of ice. Grovyle eyed the barely-visible trail before his eyes settled on a group of Snorunt nearby. Before Dusknoir could say anything, Grovyle had darted towards them and spoken up.

"Hey, you haven't seen anyone come by here, have you?"

The Snorunt simply stared at him before turning back towards each other and giggling. Grovyle waited for a little while before growling at them in annoyance. Finally, one of the Ice-Types turned back towards him and kicked some snow into Grovyle's face.

"Not gonna tell you!" he taunted. "See you, loser!"

With that, the trio cackled and bounced off. Grovyle shot a glare in their direction as he wiped the snow off his face. Dusknoir had remained silent throughout the conversation, watching with his brow raised. He knew Grovyle was concerned, but what had he expected?

"You know, you probably could've saved some time if you'd just ignored them," he mused. "It was naive to think they'd be helpful."

"I know," Grovyle groaned. "I just…if even the Sableye are cooperating, I thought…ah, never mind. Let's just go."

Dusknoir blinked as he followed the Grass-Type. He really thought the Sableye were 'cooperative'? Well, he supposed it would seem that way from Grovyle's point of view. Still…Dusknoir had a considerably harder time believing that anyone could trust random Pokémon. Not in this world, not even with Grovyle insisting his team had tried talking with everyone. His personal experience told him otherwise, after all.

Dusknoir shook his head as he floated over a particularly icy patch in the trail. Grovyle was…mostly doing okay. He tripped over a branch hidden in the snow drifts up ahead, though, hissing as he tried to catch his footing.

"…Are you hurt?" Dusknoir asked.

"I told you, I'm—fine!"

The last word wasn't so much snapped at Dusknoir as it was a yelp of surprise. A Gengar had materialized out of nowhere, and a pleased smirk crossed his face at Grovyle's obvious shock. He raised his hands, forming a Shadow Ball between them, and—

Dusknoir quickly rammed his fist into the move, splitting the orb and sending dark wisps flying out to the sides. Then, he formed a Shadow Ball of his own and launched it at the other ghost. It struck true enough, and Gengar apparently decided that the fight wasn't worth it. After skidding backwards, he glared and melted away into the shadows cast by a nearby boulder.

Grovyle was still breathing heavily as he straightened up. It seemed to be more surprise than anything; Dusknoir couldn't see any bruises on him. Good; jumping in had been worth it.

"I know, I know," Grovyle mumbled as he started walking again. "I'll be more careful."

A hint of amusement crossed through Dusknoir's voice. "I didn't say anything, you know."

"You were thinking it!" Grovyle sighed before adding, "Sorry. You…almost sound like…well, never mind. Just…thank you."

He sounded like what, exactly? Like he cared? Dusknoir hoped so—that was the goal, after all. Grovyle trusting him would make the trip easier, and if it was finally happening…well, maybe Dusknoir was doing better than he'd thought.

"I don't need any thanks," he finally replied with a shrug. "I do need you in good condition, though—remember?"

"Yes, yes, you want my help taking down that new follower of Primal Dialga's. I'm not sure why I expected otherwise."

That…why did that sting? No; Dusknoir shook his head and kept following Grovyle. It didn't sting; he was being ridiculous again. He was supposed to be cold and precise and—

Dusknoir blinked; it seemed they'd reached the top of the mountain. They'd arrived on a large expanse of mostly flat land, peppered with the occasional boulder and chunk of ice. It was otherwise empty, and Dusknoir could tell the stillness was making Grovyle suspicious. The Grass-Type cautiously looked around as he advanced, as if expecting something to leap out at him at any moment.

"Is something the matter?"

Grovyle frowned. "I…thought I heard something, is all."

Dusknoir paused and glanced around. There was a slight rumbling sound in the distance, if he listened closely. It seemed far enough away to not matter—but then again, Dusknoir knew well that things weren't always what they seemed like here. The rumbling got closer, and the ground around them started to shake.

"Something's coming!" Grovyle shouted.

And he was too occupied trying to figure out what that something was to notice that the chunks of ice in the air were shaking as well. There was one not too far from Grovyle, and if it fell on him…it would be too much. Dusknoir couldn't have that.

It was just to keep Grovyle healthy, no other reason. Dusknoir shoved the Grass-Type out of the way to a less risky area—fewer boulders and ice shards to hit him—and the next thing he was aware of was being face first in the snow. Quite undignified, really; it was almost embarrassing. (Only almost; embarrassment was also undignified, after all.)

And then there was a sharp, throbbing pain in his back, and he vaguely registered dozens of tiny ice shards on the ground around him. Quite a few of them were stained red for some reason. Ah, that had to be it; the larger chunk of ice must've shattered over his back, and he was probably bleeding. Dusknoir nodded—or would have, if he had the space to nod—at the explanation. That made sense.

And then Grovyle was shouting something again (at him, it sounded like), but the words weren't quite registering. Dusknoir slowly pushed himself upwards—it hurt to move—and only managed to get into a halfway kneeling position before there was another thud and a loud roar.

…They were surrounded. A large Mamoswine and several Glalie had leapt down from a nearby cliff; that must've been what caused the noise earlier. They were likely territorial, as were most wild packs of Pokémon; still, Grovyle was whipping around in an attempt to assess the odds. Multiple Ice-Types versus a Grass-Type and an already-injured partner didn't paint a very favorable picture.

Dusknoir silently cursed himself; maybe that little "heroic" stunt hadn't been a good idea after all. He was in no condition to fight, and it would be harder to ensure Grovyle made it through the battle safely. "Saving" him did no good if it just led to an even riskier situation.

But he had to do something, and Dusknoir finally managed to get himself in the air again. He hissed in pain as he attempted to fire off a Shadow Ball at the nearest Glalie. Even raising his arms too high caused another sting of pain through his back, and the orb petered out before he could fully form it.

"Get down! You can't fight. Just leave them to me!"

Dusknoir eyed his charge. Grovyle had managed to ram into one of the Glalie with a Quick Attack, and the larger Pokémon screeched as he tumbled through the air. After a good round of Leaf Blades, Grovyle sent Glalie flying, knocking him into one of his comrades. The first was unconscious, and the second was hopefully stunned enough that it would take him out of the fight for a while.

Still…there were two more, not to mention the Mamoswine. Grovyle wouldn't be able to handle them on numbers alone. Dusknoir closed his eye, sighing deeply. Focus on something smaller, easier to create…there. He'd managed to form a Will-o-Wisp in each hand, and he thrust them towards the two remaining Glalie.

The sudden movement caused more dull throbs throughout his body, but the attacks connected. There were more loud screeches as the Glalie jerked around and closed their eyes in pain. Maybe the burns affected the Ice-Types worse; Dusknoir wasn't sure. But it gave him an opening nonetheless, which he was grateful for. With more space between him and his opponents, Dusknoir had the time to properly form another Shadow Ball. Aim for one, create another orb, blast it at the second…the attempts left him gasping for air, but at least all of his attacks landed.

Meanwhile, Mamoswine had focused all of his attention on Grovyle. He was swinging his tusks around wildly, and Grovyle had done his best to dodge them until now. The side of one tusk slammed into him, sending him flying. Grovyle crashed into a boulder, letting out a pained groan as he struggled to sit up.

Dusknoir looked at him, then at Mamoswine. Two against one odds were considerably better, but they were both wounded. It would take some cooperation to do, but Grovyle met his gaze and nodded. If they both moved now, they'd have a chance.

Grovyle staggered to his feet, and the two of them charged towards Mamoswine. Leaf Blade, Ice Punch—Mamoswine roared in pain. Will-o-Wisp and Absorb—he howled, staggering aside. Finally, one last Leaf Blade, and he collapsed. The Glalie took one look at their nearly-unconscious leader and promptly fled the area, shrieking all the while.

Mamoswine weakly crawled after them, shooting a glare and a pained hiss at his attackers. Once he was a fair distance away, Dusknoir sighed—and promptly crumpled back to the ground. Grovyle immediately darted up to him, kneeling down and nudging his shoulder.

"How could you do that?!" he demanded. "That ice would've killed you if it was much larger! And you tried to fight after that anyway?"

Dusknoir chuckled weakly as he tried to sit up. "You're not…worried about me, are you?"

"I, uh…" Grovyle looked away awkwardly. "Well, that is…you need to rest up before we can go further. Let me see… Ah, I think I see a place. Can you move?"

Dusknoir slowly pulled himself upwards before falling back to the ground. Well, that answered that question. He shook his head, sighing.

"Maybe a bit, but…I'll need some help."

Grovyle simply nodded as he attempted to support Dusknoir. It was more than a little unwieldy, as Grovyle was considerably smaller than he was. Eventually, they reached a small alcove in a wall of ice up ahead. Dusknoir gingerly leaned up against it, cringing as the coldness stung his still sore back.

For a little while, Grovyle watched him silently. Then, he mumbled, "Thank you for saving me back there."

"I saved you? Don't be ludicrous," Dusknoir replied, shaking his head in amusement. "I was still able to fight, after all. I'm sure you could have, too."

Grovyle frowned. "Barely. You think I didn't notice? Any more enemies, and you wouldn't have made it out of there."

Dusknoir shrugged. Maybe so, but it wasn't like he had a proper answer to that. It worked out in the end, hadn't it? And…Grovyle almost sounded genuinely concerned. If Dusknoir's stunt had actually made him grateful, then maybe it was worth it.

"Mm, I've had worse," he decided to say eventually. "Like that little trick you pulled on me back in the past. Thanks for that—it took me long enough to get over it."

"Well, if you still have the energy to complain, then you must not be so bad after all." Grovyle snorted. "And that was Iris's idea, if I remember correctly. You could at least 'thank' the right Pokémon."

Dusknoir blinked. "…Iris?"

"The Cacnea," Grovyle clarified. He smiled almost wistfully as he went on, "She's very…interesting. All of Claire's friends are good Pokémon, really. And if I can help them when we reach Dialga, then…all of this will have been worth it."

"…You know I don't share this sentiment, right? Why are you bringing this up now?"

Grovyle paused, shrugging. "Well, I just…technically we have the same goal right now, in a way. And you did save me back there, no matter what you say. I don't know… Something about that just kind of…got me feeling sentimental, or…something. I guess."

Honestly, his fumbling attempts at explaining his feelings were entertaining. Perhaps it would've been endearing from anyone else (and Dusknoir was again repulsed at his thoughts). For all of Grovyle's shrewdness, there was an awkward kind of earnestness beneath it all, and Dusknoir was a little bit jealous.

"Well, I don't see how anything that involves wiping myself from existence is worth it," he muttered. "I ask you again: are you really okay with that? Have you truly accepted it?"

There was another long pause before Grovyle replied. "Well…honestly, it took some getting used to. But if everyone remembers me, then I'll still exist in a way, won't I? Besides, I'll still have left an impact on the world. As long as the place where Claire's friends can exist in peace, then I'll be able to leave a mark on the world.

I mean…I'm going to die eventually, anyway. I can't change that. But if I can do something important before then, I think it'll be worthwhile."

Dusknoir glanced away from him. He supposed it made sense in a way, but…he struggled to accept it nonetheless. Maybe Grovyle was right, but what was making a change even worth if he didn't get to see those results? He couldn't be sure; what if he was tossing his life away for nothing? And that part didn't seem logical at all.

But there was a genuineness in his voice that told Dusknoir that Grovyle really believed what he was saying. If he was right, and it did work, then Grovyle would have a worthy goal. It gave him a sense of purpose, and on a grander scale than anyone here could comprehend.

Purpose. Master Dialga had given that to him long ago back when he'd sorely needed one. Maybe it hadn't been for the best reasons, but that had given Dusknoir something to work towards nonetheless. He was keeping everyone alive, and he'd decided that it was a good cause. Dusknoir wasn't the only one who wanted to survive, either, and that had also been a reassurance.

Preserve himself, preserve everyone else, make sure everything came to pass as it should—it was a mission he'd desperately clung to. It had almost made Dusknoir feel like there was something worthwhile here after all. He hadn't thought there was anything worth protecting here after that particular loss, but Master Dialga's orders had given him something to work towards, something to do.

And here Grovyle was, risking his life just to better things for millions of strangers. Were Dusknoir's actions really that grand? He was 'saving' everyone, sure, but he was really just making them suffer. That wasn't—

"Are…you sure you're all right?"

There was bare concern on Grovyle's face now. Dusknoir had been silent for a while now, if nothing else. He sighed and shook his head. Focus, focus. Now was not the time; Dusknoir would not let himself get attached to that concern. He'd already gone too far with questioning himself.

"I…I'll be fine," Dusknoir grunted. "I was just…preoccupied. We probably ought to head out soon, though."

"…Oh, right. Yeah. We should." Grovyle glanced aside. "Sorry for dumping all that on you, I suppose. We'll…rest a little bit longer and then go."

Dusknoir merely nodded, closing his eye as he sighed again. There was…something nagging there between both of them. Neither of them could name it, not right now. But there was a lingering sense of…wanting something on Grovyle's face, like he'd been hoping for a particular reply.

And maybe, somewhere, there was a tiny hint of that reply deep within Dusknoir. But it was buried too far, and he refused to acknowledge it. Just a little bit longer, and Dusknoir wouldn't have to acknowledge it. The thought of avoiding all the complexities comforted him; he'd gotten so used to thinking in absolutes.

Purpose…

He wanted one. He had one. He wanted a different one, perhaps.

But Dusknoir had one, and he'd continue clinging to it for now—even if his grip on it was starting to weaken.