His back stiffens when her foot slides forward. His breathing stops, his bandaged fingers curling inwards until bones snap.

"Cyrus…" His name stirs up so many emotions. So many things that she'd overlooked. So many things that have been lost, never to be found again.

"You don't have to call me that." He shoves the worn wanted poster into the gap. Those two face don't resemble each other at all. "In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't. I—"

His spine cracks to the 90° angle. Cynthia starts, but his Pokemon are quicker. Even from here, she can hear his ragged, labored breathing.

"I… I apologize, Hero." Barely there, that voice. "I'm in no place to force demands onto you. I won't… I won't do anything." He keeps his head down as he extends his hands, cringing as he attempts to dislocate his arm sling.

"No…" Cynthia's throat is unbearably parched, so dry that it might've bled just by speaking. Her eyes sting, and it's not from the dust. "No, Cyrus. No… I'm not… Don't do that!"

Cyrus tenses. He peers up at her from under his partition of hair—that functioning eye black and broken. "You're not here to take me away? Do you want something from me? Ah. Of course, you must have questions. That's why you're here."

He raises his head. Cynthia flinches so violently, staggering back until she hits something soft and warm. And trembling.

Jupiter might've been hiding behind Cynthia the entire time.

"Armed guards are awaiting my arrest," Cyrus mutters. "The mansion is surrounded. You even brought in snipers."

Her heart's close to exploding. It doesn't help that Jupiter's nails are pressing into her arms. "Cy—Cyrus…" She swallows the nausea back down. "Cyrus, please, listen to me. I—I didn't come here to a-a-a… I didn't come to take you away!"

She even points to the windows. Gyarados shifts, revealing the pale pink skies of early dawn. Cyrus frowns. He keeps his hand in the air, much to her horror. Then her spirit breaks, and she can't even look at him in the eye.

"Cyrus," she tries again in a futile attempt to be strong. "Cyrus. I just want to talk."

Silence. Nerve-wracking, mind-numbing silence. Silence so loud that her eardrums throb. The springs shift.

"So you do wish to interrogate me."

Cynthia's stomach had knotted into itself. Now the contents are threatening to spill up her throat. "N-No. No. No…"

Cyrus straightens. His chest heaves again, his neck snaps down, and he's about to grasp the back of his head when he grits his teeth, yanking back his trembling hand to force it up in the air. All while struggling to stay awake.

"All right… I'll… I'll try… not to disappoint." His voice is fading again. But he shakes his head. "That's… that's why you nursed me back to health, after all. It'll be a shame if your efforts were wasted."

Cynthia's hands fly to her stomach. "Cyrus… no, no that's not true. We… your team saved you. They stayed with you until you woke up."

Cyrus blinks. Then he notices the tall woman behind Cynthia. The former gasps while his expression darkens. Darkens like the bruised skies of Hearthome.

"I have no team," he states coldly and flatly. "I disbanded that cult. We've no association to each other."

"NO!" Saturn staggers into the room. The Pokemon hiss at him. He freezes, but still manages enough dignity to look his boss in the eye. "No! We're still a team! We're family, Master Cyrus!"

"Why must you insist on calling me that?" Saturn stumbles back with his hands over his heart. Cyrus's lips bristle, revealing gleaming teeth. "I am not your boss anymore. I'm a criminal who tore you away from the lives you so rightfully deserve! Stop thinking of me as someone else and see me for what I am!"

"Boss, stop it!" Mars cries. She'd forced herself to stand with Saturn. "No, you're still our boss! I don't care what other people think of you! You're precious to me!"

"Exactly what a brainwashed victim would say! You had a chance to leave, to reintegrate yourself with society! There's no reason to stay behind with this irredeemable psychopath who can't provide anything for you!"

"Cyrus!" Cynthia steps aside for Jupiter. The taller woman is quivering like a leaf. And that's not right. Not right at all. "Cyrus, please! Stop calling yourself that! You're not—"

"I know full well what I am, ma'am!" Jupiter's knees buckle, and she would've hit the floor if Cynthia hadn't been behind her. "And I believe you know of my true face as well. You know of my lies… of my manipulation… my scheme to force all of you into my delusion of a plan! Skip the pleasantries and arrest me already!"

"Doctor Cyrus!"

Cyrus's head whips to the Grunts. B-2 cringes. R-8 cowers behind her friend.

"Ah. You." Lips part to reveal fangs. "The gullible fools who threw away their livelihood to a manipulative bastard's delusions of grandeur. Foolishly casting aside your names… the one thread tying you to reality! You all should've left and never came back!"

The remnants of Team Galactic stagger back until the only distance between them and their former boss is the Hero of Sinnoh herself. Even his Pokemon had retreated into a corner, far, far away from the bed.

What do you even say right now? The silence is so heavy that spines show hints of sliding.

Then Cyrus gasps. His hands are vibrating now, the tremors spreading to his toes. He attempts to turn, to hide in the shadows, only for his torso to lurch forward when movement touches his legs.

"What… what's wrong with me?" Cyrus's complexion blanches to a color even whiter than fresh snow. His eye is wide open, but it's so dark in there to know if he's seeing what he's supposed to be seeing. His knee twitches, and Cyrus's hand flies to his chest.

"Why won't my legs work?" he whispers, almost like a plea. Cynthia winces when their gazes connect. It's too late to pull away, to pretend that nothing was seen, to have prevented the gaping wound in her heart to open into a bleeding void. Crimson blossoms once again gnaw at the edges of her vision.

Cyrus is glaring at his legs like it's the wanted poster. He moves again—and freezes. Dismisses that and tries once more… and almost loses consciousness.

Jupiter shoves Cynthia aside. "Cyrus, stop!" He stops her with a glare. Cynthia can hear the faintest of whimpers from the older woman's throat.

"I understand…" Cyrus's voice is low. He blinks the beads of perspiration from his eyes. "You came back… because you wanted revenge. Revenge against this emotionless freak for taking everything away from you…" Their weak protests fail to reach his ears. He stares at the faded blanket for the longest time…

Then he sighs. A sigh that rattles Cynthia to the bone. "Very well. Your judgement is long-overdue." He painfully tears the pillow from behind him. "Here. Get it over with already."

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Jupiter storms up to his bedside, her hand flashing in the light of daybreak. She brings her palm back and flings it with the force of ten thousand Machamp—

-but she can't do it. Her burning fist stops within nanometers of his nose. Cyrus keeps his head down, his eyes closed. Jupiter's panting heavily, her uneven breaths rustling his hair. Everyone knows that even if she did manage to slap sense into him, there's no telling when he'd wake up again. If he ever will, for that matter.

"FUCK!" Jupiter nabs the pillow and dashes the thing with all her might. Honchkrow pushes Crobat and Weavile back before the projectile can snap their necks.

"Cyrus!" Cynthia's aware of the younger Galactic Commanders behind her. Of their grips on her coat. Of Saturn's hugging her torso for dear life.

Cyrus's eyelids flutter open. He sees the exasperated woman before him. Sees the pillow on the ground, yellowed cotton spilling from its torn seams. Sees the Grunts hiding behind the Commanders; the Commanders hiding behind the Hero of Sinnoh who's hiding behind her golden partition.

"There's plenty of other opportunities," Cyrus says softly. His breathing is much too shallow for comfort. "I won't be going anywhere."

Then their gazes connect before she can even open her mouth. "I apologize for wasting your time, Hero," he says. "You came here for answers, yes? I'll tell you everything you need to know. No favors or conditions this time. No more games, I promise… and you can act accordingly if you deem fit."

Cynthia can't find her voice. It's somewhere within the deep well of her mind.

"But what about all the things you said?" Heads turn to the blue bowl-cut that just spoke. B-2 forces himself to be taller than he already is.

"Things I've… said…?" Cyrus's frown is vacant. His brows are furrowed as he sifts through that mess that are his distorted memories. "I've said all you needed to hear, sir—" B-2 pales "—back at that prison escape. The truth that I've kept from all of you. That and nothing more."

"N-No." Eyes turn to R-8. She takes a deep breath. "Not… not during that storm. Those… those other things that you've said."

Cyrus's frown is deepening with each passing second. "Things?" A pause. His Pokemon glance at each other. "I… see." Another pause. "Whatever they may be, I assure you that it wasn't important. Disregard those mad ramblings. Nothing more than delusions exacerbated by a needless fever."

And before anyone can reply to that, Cyrus lifts his gaze to his audience. "We're wasting time," he snaps with cold finality. "You must be at the edge of your patience right now, Hero. I assure you that there won't be any more disruptions from this point forward.

"Now, what do you wish to know?"

Cyrus keeps his hand on his lap. Where she can see it. Her stomach churns violently, and it's taking all her willpower not to throw up.

"Go on," he says. Then she's back in that suffocating white room. The linoleum table stretches like a giant chasm. Rain plinks against the bars of the small shoebox window. The criminal that she put away simply sits and waits, neverminding the cameras trained on his head nor the guns pressed against his back.

Oh Arceus… Hot air swells to her mouth, but the words never come. What do I even say? What do I tell him? He's waiting—HOLY ARCEUS HE'S STARING AT ME! DAMNDAMNDAMNIT AUGGGH!

Cyrus tilts his head. Her world tips on the side. He lowers his gaze. Her world plunges into darkness.

"We can start from the beginning, if you wish." Cyrus gauges her nonexistent reaction. His expression softens, eyes dulling like a neglected ax, and after a long exhale, he speaks.

"Your suspicions of foul play was right, Hero. It was me who orchestrated the theft of the first Time Gear… the one at Treeshroud Forest. It required meticulous planning to locate a mythical item… but alas, I've obtained the Time Gear in my custody, as you've seen."

He looks at her. She grasps her pounding chest. "And you were correct in assuming that I had intended to destroy the world. However—" He holds up a trembling finger "—and you may disregard me any time you wish—Time Gears themselves do not destroy anything." A cough. A wet cough. "If I may, how far has the paralysis spread, Hero?"

It's not until a Gastly tickles her neck does Cynthia snap back to earth. "U-Uh." She scrambles for the life she used to live before all this happened. "Um. M-Mystifying Forest. Treeshroud Forest. Routes surrounding Mt. Coronet. Snowpoint City. C-Canalave City, spreading into Jubilife." And much, much more, according to Looker's grim proclamation.

"I see." Cyrus's tone is still frustratingly even. "So my plan to incite the planet's paralysis had indeed taken into effect."

"No!" His eyes narrow. She gasps—and quickly rightens herself. "B-But the Time Gears aren't missing from those areas! Everything's untouched, but time still stopped!" Remember what you told me? All the way back then…

Cyrus is staring at her. Cynthia resists the urge to look away… until he sighs. "And yet, I'm still responsible for the distortion in the world." His lips tug when her gaze accidentally slips to the wanted poster—the one at his side. "Time Gears work like any other gear. Remove them, and the machine stops. Return them, and the machine works. That's often how things get fixed…

"I digress. Anyhow, that's exactly what I had planned to do with the stolen Time Gears. What I sought was a world… one free of conflict and pain. One such world existed in the very beginning of the universe… a universe where time had just begun to flow, when space had first started to expand. There should have been no strife.

"But what became of that world? Because the human spirit is weak and incomplete, strife has spread. The world is being ruined by it… I find this state of affairs to be deplorable, hence I looked for change by tapping into the untold powers of the Time Gears.

"I planned to harness the energies of such mythical objects. If I can freeze time… freeze the current flow of affairs, I can release the bound potential to restart the clock, metaphorically speaking. All will end… and everything will begin. I intended to create a world of complete perfection, so nothing as vague and incomplete as spirit can remain."

You can hear a speck of dust fall from the questionable third floor. L-dump, l-dump… hearts skip a beat, fumble for a pulse, then resume their shaky march into a finite eternity.

Then Cyrus drops his head. "Quite a delusion, won't you agree? To think that I've invested so much energy into pursuing a stupid fairy-tale… Thankfully, you and the Detective foiled my plan before I could hurt those most precious to you."

The poison in his tone almost burns off Cynthia's ears. Venom, thorns, ice… double-edged words piercing into her heart, but she only receives the blunt of the attack. The main thrust was always self-inflicted.

Cyrus chuckles. It's more of a sigh than anything. "You can tell all that to Detective Looker. That should be enough to incriminate me."

"CYRUS!" The scream rips from her throat before her brain can make sense of it. Cyrus jerks away, and it takes him a good minute before he can open his eyes. Cynthia reins her emotions from overpowering her rationale. Barely. "Cyrus, stop that! Just… just tell me the truth!"

And his expression darkens. "That is the truth, Hero of Sinnoh." His tone is deliberately harsh… as if she'd insulted him. "At least… that's my truth. It doesn't hold much merit, but that's the best I can offer you right now." A grim twist to his mouth. It's not a sneer. "But I've spent all my life chasing after a flawed illusion… and look where that landed me. Nowhere. Back to square one. What's the point in lying about my intents now, when you've went through all the trouble of bringing me back?"

"N-No." Saturn clears his throat. Tries again. "No, don't listen to him!" He runs to Cynthia's face. "I was the one who took Treeshroud Forest's Time Gear! I can tell you my exact route!"

Mars leaps from behind the wall. "I was the one who traced its location, Miss Cynthia! I can tell you which program I used, how I triangulated its position based on past expeditions!"

Jupiter gasps. She staggers to the front, standing before her two Commanders. "A-And I was the one researching the process of harnessing their energies! Cynthia, I was involved as much as anyone else!"

"We did too!" Grunts file into position, their chins held high. "We captured Pokemon that fit the celestial theme!"

"I eavesdropped on official police business," B-2 hisses. "I even passed myself off as a reporter!"

"And I was in charge of covering our tracks!" R-8 plants a hand to her chest. "I made sure our company front remained unaffiliated to the missing Time Gear incident!"

Cynthia stumbles back. She would've hit the bed if the Pokemon didn't snap at her leg. The Commanders, the Grunts… the remnants of his team glare back at her—back at their boss—with nothing but burning conviction in their eyes.

A silence.

Then Cyrus laughs. He drops his head, his shoulders shaking as ragged pockets of air escape from his closed throat. The sounds send her heartbeat into an explosive sprint.

"Master Cyrus…" gasps his audience.

"Hehe… what truly horrifying results…" Cyrus tilts his head, that broken gaze fixed on the shivering Champion. "It appears that the brainwashing was successful. Wonderful. Hero, there's more evidence to help in your case."

Cynthia's hand flashes before Jupiter can stop her. Cyrus waits for a slap that never came. Cynthia controlled herself just in time. Because that's exactly what he wanted, and she can't have him falling deeper into the hole that they've all dug for him.

Cyrus sighs. His shoulders were slumped. Another wet cough rattles his chest and malfunctioning legs. "I can write another confession, if you wish. What else is Detective Looker missing from his investigation?"

Team Galactic can pass off as statues. Lifelike, crystallized statues. The Pokemon observe this scene with silent judgement. Cyrus's gaze flickers to them, lingering briefly, before returning to squint at the gaping Hero of Sinnoh.

Shit! What the hell do I do! Arceus! Grandma! Looker! I've found Cyrus, but I can't even—

"Calm down, Cynthia." A familiar voice. A faint, but clear phantasmal whisper. A small hand grasping her own, warm and soft like the rays of the moon and sun at first light. Warmth in her pocket. Tingling sentimentality in her heart.

Cynthia takes a deep breath. Cyrus regards her with vacant eyes.

"I need your help," she says. "Cyrus."

Cyrus blinks. He blinks again, glancing around the room as if he had misheard. And judging from the Commanders' reactions, Cynthia had indeed spoken what she'd intended to speak.

"I'm… fully cooperating with your investigation," Cyrus says slowly. Could've been a question. "You're free to interrogate me as you wish."

"No." She glares at him. He returns the scowl, but something else is bubbling under his mask. "I need your help, Cyrus—" stated with all its implications and meaning "—to stop the planet's paralysis."

She lets that note sink in. Lets the room absorb it. Allows herself time to process what she just said and what she will say.

"Are you mad?" On the flip side, Cyrus has shown a wide range of emotions as of late, contrary to popular belief. "My help? What can a no-good criminal like me do? Have you forgotten that I was the one who stole that Time Gear, that I wanted to halt time so I can reset the world to my twisted fantasy?"

YES! YES, I DO! The rage surges forward, but Cynthia forces all those needless sentimentality back into her stomach. He mustn't win. "T-That's exactly why it has to be you, Cyrus. You're the only person who knows how the Time Gears work. The only one who knows about Dialga, the planet's paralysis, the myths… Please, you're my only hope of saving the world."

Cyrus has no clue in hell what expression to put on his face, and it shows. "Miss Champion?" he says this very deliberately, as if regurgitating information to a child. "I mean no disrespect, but you are the Champion of Sinnoh. The Hero of the region." He gropes for the wanted poster. "I am the Villain that you put away. I am the escaped prisoner with a bounty on his head. You… do know that you have access to a far better pool of candidates for your proposition… right?"

That's exactly the problem, Cyrus. Cynthia prepares herself for the long road ahead by practicing simple breathing exercises. Some mindfulness. Silent assurances that this is the right path… and what she's about to say is an all-or-nothing gamble.

It's too late to turn back now. "Charon tried to kill me."

At the mention of that name, Cyrus's frigid mask shatters like a jackhammer to the mirror. Mars gasps, causing Saturn to recoil, causing Jupiter to flinch, and all the Grunts to assume defensive positions.

"He did what?" Jupiter hisses. The strength had returned to her voice.

"I thought that bastard was dead!" Saturn snarls.

Mars gawks at Cynthia. "When… when did this happen?"

"Victory Road, not long after the Operation," Cynthia says, and their faces turn aghast. "He was hiding, waiting for a chance to ambush me. And he almost succeeded, if he hadn't dropped my Poke balls while fleeing."

"But wasn't there security to get near the League? 24/7 posts?" B-2 gnashes his teeth at the small nod. "I mean, I understand why he'd want to target you, Miss Cynthia. You're an influential figure to all of Sinnoh, but something's still not sitting with me…"

R-8 clicks her tongue. "Yes. The real issue is: how did Charon get inside Victory Road without proper clearance? He could've burrowed his way in. Or…" Everyone turns to the Breakfast Grunt as realization blossoms into terrifying reality.

"Or he had help on the inside."

"Charon did indeed have an accomplice." Cynthia makes sure to maintain eye contact with Cyrus as she speaks. "Both working under Dialga's mind control. And I know exactly who that traitor is."

And upon saying that name, Saturn's gasp pushes him to his feet. "Arceus, that's the one!" Everyone's staring at him now. "Yes, yes! Boss, you were right!"

What? Cynthia's jaw drops. Cyrus immediately looks away. "Cy… Cyrus?" She licks her lips. "You… You knew…?"

"He was putting together the case after he dragged you back from Foggy Forest," Jupiter says, ignoring his pointed glare. His fist is trembling again. "I saw his bulletin. He took all the evidence and pieced it together."

"He spent nights on that, Miss Cynthia." Mars's eyes are grim and solemn. "He wouldn't sleep until he profiled your attacker."

Cynthia turns to the man on the bed. The same man who had indeed rescued her life, more times than she ever did with his. "Why did you lie, Cyrus?" He jolts at her unusually gentle tone. "Why did you claim responsibility for my memory loss? It wasn't you—"

"They have no idea what they're talking about!" She stumbles at his sudden rise in voice. Jupiter catches the former before she falls on the floor.

"N-No! You have no idea what you're talking about!" Cynthia shoots back, much to his extreme disbelief. "I went to Foggy Forest, Cyrus! I climbed all the way up to Fogbound Lake, where I saw Uxie! Yes, Uxie, the mythical Pokemon whose spirit matched to the crystal at Crystal Cave! And Garchomp—" The land dragon emerges from its capsule "—told me everything! How you rescued me at Foggy Forest! You came with your Crobat, and instead of leaving with the Time Gear, you chose to save me instead!"

The hands of a broken clock slowly but surely ticked, somewhere in the near distance. Cyrus turns to his Pokemon. Crobat stares back with somber eyes. The man drags his attention to Garchomp, who nods, then to Cynthia, who awaits his judgement with hammering heart.

"Garchomp told you?" he echoes. "Your Pokemon… spoke to you?"

"Yes! Well… not really. But I saw her flashback! Pokemon can indeed talk, Cyrus! I swear it on my title as Champion!"

A silence. Cyrus stares intently at the land dragon… before his lips tug into the most sorrowful smile which punctures her heart, leaving it an oozing, deflated mess.

"I was right." There's nothing behind that smile. "I'm nothing but a deranged lunatic in your eyes, am I? A crazy, demented, rotten, good-for-nothing bastard that deserves to be locked away for the good of society." By the time that he finished that sentence, the thread-bare blanket had become threads in his trembling grip.

To make matters worse, her heart feels the same way. "N-No, Cyrus!" she wheezes. "T-That's the truth! I'm not lying, I swear—"

"I never said that your words weren't valid." Arceus that smile… "You're the Hero of Sinnoh after all. Don't ever throw away your title like that. Please, continue. "

"Cy—"

"Please. You're wasting time."

Cynthia almost chokes on her spit. She rubs her eyes. Cyrus coughs into his sleeve. The Commanders remain silent like a forest frozen in time.

"Y-Yes. A-And U-U-U—" A slap to the face fixes that stutter. Cyrus frowns, but she dismisses that. "He—Uxie—restored my memories. I know what happened now, before I woke up in Veilstone. I was indeed on the trail of a Time Gear when that traitor came to silence me. Dialga's behind everything—yes, the legendary Guardian of Time, Saturn.

"Something is indeed wrong with the world. Despite the Time Gears being in place, Uxie confirmed that the planet's paralysis has and will continue to spread until time grinds to a halt."

Exactly as you said, Cyrus.

Silence. Cyrus picks off his eyes from his covered legs. "So a Time Gear was indeed residing within Foggy Forest." Stated flatly, as if he's just an echo in a barren valley. "You should've never told me that, Hero. I might steal it again."

There's nothing in his face to back up that claim. Cynthia breathes through her mouth. "I really need your help, Cyrus." Please, you have to trust me again. "I can only rely on you."

Cyrus holds her gaze for a bit before dropping it entirely. "I see. So you trekked back to the fog to regain your lost memories. It must've been a treacherous journey. But your reward is that you were able to interact with the Guardian of Emotion—Knowledge." He rubs his eye. "Mesprit? No, no the Guardian of Crystal Lake…"

"Uxie," Cynthia says softly. "Knowledge. Fogbound Lake."

"I apologize." Cyrus's eyelids are stretched tightly over his eye. He's also squinting at his audience. "Did… Did Mes-Uxie return all your lost memories?"

He's going somewhere with this. I just have to play my cards right and not expose myself. Yet. "Uxie only erases memories of Fogbound Lake," she replies.

Cyrus sags against the wall. The sigh escapes like a repressed waterfall, surging from his exhausted chest. His good hand he pressed against his temples, his head he lets fall back to the bed stand.

A great weight had lifted from the air. Cynthia glances back at the remnants of his team. Garchomp whimpers softly to his whispering Pokemon. A Gastly materializes next to Cyrus's side, lingering for a bit before Gyarados chases it away with a snap of giant jaws.

"I have a condition." Upon seeing her expression, Cyrus shakes his head. "I know I promised you earlier, but worry not. Just some simple ground rules. Not intended to give me an advantage over you."

Cynthia swallows the sour lump down her throat. "F-Fine. Cyrus. What is it?"

Another faint smile. "Conditions, if I may amend. Firstly, you don't tell anyone of this place. You insist that you're here on you're here on your own violation. I'll take your word on that. In addition, you don't mention anyone else besides me, as accomplices to crime."

His team starts forward, but he stops them with a hand. "This is strictly a professional relationship between you, the Hero of Sinnoh, and me," he continues, his eyes cold and calculating. "While on the duration of our contract, I expect your full cooperation… and I too, will uphold my end of the bargain."

He tilts his head. "And after this is all over and done, you'll only have me to deal with. Are we clear?"

Cynthia nods. "Clears as bubbles on the beach, Cyrus." His mask falters. Whatever realization that dawned on those faded veils is lost when he abruptly turns away. Cynthia steels her heart and knees. She runs a hand through her hair.

The business deal of the world, people.

"My apologizes, Hero. I have one more condition."

Cynthia's breath hitches. Holy Arceus. Cyrus refuses to look at her. His Pokemon slowly climb back up his bed. To everyone's relief, he lets them infiltrate his prison of ice.

"You will not do anything stupid," he says. "That's my final condition."

Something rekindles within Cynthia's heart. Clouds push away from her memories, and the little girl finally shoves aside the frozen time to emerge at her future self's side. Garchomp gapes at the smiling phantom. Team Galactic bounce their gazes between the two enemies-turned-allies bound by a shaky verbal agreement.

"I also have a condition," Cynthia announces. Cyrus turns to face her. She jabs a finger to his unreadable face, cringing as he flinches ever so slightly. "Don't pull any more stupid stunts."

Cyrus is frowning, but he nods regardless. Whereas he fully understands her implications is unclear, but at this point, she's just glad that he'll be safe.

That he's alive.

"Thank you so much, Cynthia," Jupiter murmurs. "Oh Arceus thank you…"

"It's okay, Jupiter." Cynthia also flashes a smile to the rest of his despondent team. "Everything will be fine."

Then she turns back to her reluctant partner. With the early light of dawn trickling into the broken glass windows, she feels a strange peace in the air. Bands of brilliance kiss his hair, expelling the eternal darkness cast upon by the Old Chateau. This scene is jarringly familiar. Reminds her of back then, at Veilstone, the last time they had ever talked this intimately.

"Good night, Cy—"

Cyrus calls her title. Cynthia stops. A strange, uncanny coldness brews in her stomach.

"C-Cyrus?" she squeaks. "W-What's wrong?"

"It's not a favor," he says without missing a beat. "Please give me your candid answer, Hero."

Cynthia steadies her stomach. Swallows down her pounding heart. "S-Sure. All right. What's your question, Cyrus?"

Cyrus coughs. It's a much thicker cough than last time, one that rocks his shoulders. Nevertheless, he straightens to match the amber fuzzes that are her eyes.

"I know that I'm still a wanted criminal. After this is all over… after I've expended my use… what will become of me? Will I be imprisoned? Executed?" Cyrus smiles upon her crumbling reaction. Another cough into his fist. A furrow of the brow, and he plants his palm facedown onto the blanket. "I just want to know. That way, I won't be expecting any nasty surprises in the near future."

That night, the moon is high in the sky again. Round, milky white. A flicker in a sea of sparkling stars.

Cynthia shifts in the bed. The smell of musty herbs had embedded itself into the walls a long time ago. And strangely enough, it doesn't bother her as much as it used to. It's almost… welcoming.

"We finally met him." Shirona's glowing form pushes away the shadows of the room. "We met him… but that wasn't him. He's locked himself away in that prison of his heart."

"We'll keep trying," Cynthia says, gaze flickering to the photograph on the counter. To the pulsating white treasure beside it. "We need to fix our mess. That's the least we can do."

Shirona musters a small smile. "But… but you never answered him, Cynthia. About the future…"

Cynthia turns away. Shirona purses her lips, but she doesn't press. Just thinking about the unclear future hurts her head even more. Hurts her already weary chest. The entire ordeal in general is too exhausting to even reflect upon, both mentally and physically taxing.

"We made progress," Cynthia whispers to a wide-eyed Shirona. "Don't give up hope yet. There's still tomorrow."

Tomorrow. Today, Cynthia confronted the man who saved her life back at Foggy Forest. Tomorrow, she'll finally have the courage to confront her childhood friend.