"Yes. So as Professor Rowan said—"
Then the gears grind to a halt.
Oh… A flush of warmth surges to her heart. Cynthia glances around, and sure enough, everyone had heard the old man's words clear as day.
Pearl is bouncing on the balls of his heels. "So Dia and I worked hard on this." The boys unravel the parchment, revealing… the second edition of the Wonder Map ™: A wonderful restoration lined with crayon and colored with imagination.
"Mister Cyrus worked hard on the plan," Platinum says, hands clasping together, pink and blue rings intertwining. "And it's safe to say that we're finally headed into the right direction."
Rowan nods. "Take it away, Cyrus."
All eyes turn to the former Galactic Boss, whose neck snaps up with a hard crack. He stares at the children. At the Pokemon Professor. At the crowd eagerly awaiting his speech.
Cyrus frowns. He rubs the hair from his eyes. "Y-Yes. I… Yes." He snaps his fingers, and Rotom materializes at his side. "I wish to start from the beginning. To address the flimsy weight of the theory of the Time Gears, I've gathered testimony from the Pokemon…"
Cynthia leans in. "He what?"
"Cyrus was interviewing Pokemon yesterday," R-8 whispers back. "Like a job conference, but in the forest."
"Oh."
"…so we can proceed with utmost certainty." Cyrus gestures to the Wonder Map. "I'll keep this simple: the mission now is to retrieve all five Time Gears."
The smile slips from Cynthia's lips, and Cyrus sees that. "Worry not, Champion Cynthia. I've no ill will towards your world and all those you cherish. This is a necessary evil that will surely stop the planet's paralysis in its tracks."
"I never said I didn't trust you." But the words refuse to leave the tip of her tongue.
"I'm a hypocrite, I understand." Cyrus has this weird little smile. "However, I'm betting on the 33% chance that we'll have a window of opportunity after taking the Time Gear. During that time, we must make haste to Mt. Coronet. On the pinnacle of the mountain lies Spear Pillar… the site where the ancient Sinnoans gathered to conduct rituals to the Gods. Presenting the Time Gears there should activate a mechanism… and it should open the doors to Dialga's realm."
"The path to destiny shall be revealed."
"We want to help!"
"No." The Dexholders deflate. "You three have done enough. Thank you for your service. Now go home."
Platinum puts her foot down. "We are not children that you can easily dismiss like that! As heir of the distinguished Berlitz household, I refuse to stand aside as the world falls to the whims of a Pokemon!"
Pearl huffs. "Me too. As the next Battle Tycoon, I have an obligation to protect the people I care about. No… I want to. I want to play my part instead of sitting on the sidelines."
And Dia finishes those convictions with a brave smile. "My gut tells me this is the right thing to do. Please let us help you, Mister Cyrus."
"No."
"I am their guardian." Rowan matches that glare with a glower of his own. "I gave them Pokedexes for a reason, Cyrus. I see their potential, and I know they can help you. Trust them."
"No—"
"Then trust me. Do you trust me, Cyrus?"
Cynthia can hear the gnashing of teeth, the muffled popping of knuckles as fists curl over the handles of crutches.
"If you insist." Cyrus gives Rowan a peculiar look before returning to his audience. "Saturn."
The Galactic Commander perks up. "Y-Yes, Master Cyrus!"
"I have a special mission for you." Cyrus points to the Wonder Map, his finger hovering above the colorful lines. "Here, in the northwest region lies the Northern Desert. I'd like you to—"
"I'll do it!" Saturn roars. "I'll get that Time Gear, Boss!"
"Hmm. I know, Saturn. Regardless, Pearl will accompany you, just in case. Report any problems to me immediately, if they should occur."
"How—"
Cyrus snaps his fingers, and the Ghosts stream from behind his back. People cower, but upon opening their eyes, there's a mini-headset in their palms.
"Mars," Cyrus says. She straightens. "I'll need you at Foggy Forest. Diamond will accompany you. Be vigilant—the fog has gotten thicker…
"Jupiter, I'll need you at Treeshroud Forest. Disregard our maps, as the land has radically changed since then. Miss Berlitz will accompany you. You two hold considerable prowess, and if combined…
"And you two." The Grunts stiffen. "B-2 and R-8. I entrust you with Mystifying Forest's Time Gear. Are you up for the task?"
B-2 pinches his colleague, and she slaps him back. "Yes!" they cry. "Yes, we're ready!" The other Grunts shoot envious stares.
"Excellent." Cyrus gives them a deep nod. "The rest of you will remain here." He silences the protests with a raised hand. "We will be journeying into unknown territories. Even I cannot foresee what the future holds. We need people to watch the base." The boss taps his headpiece. "However, given the current state of affairs, be prepared to flee at a second's notice."
"Sir yes sir!"
"What about me?"
Cyrus blinks. The Pokemon Professor repeats his request. "Professor Rowan." Stated slowly and with a frown. "It would be wise for you to remain at the Old Chateau. That way, if any questions should arise, we can reach you."
That seems to sit well with Rowan. At least somewhat. Gee, Cyrus really thought this through-
Wait. "What about me, Cyrus?"
Cyrus tilts his head. "What about you, Champion Cynthia?"
"Cyrus." All attention turns to Jupiter. "You said 'we'… What about you?"
"Ah. I'll be going to Crystal Cave, of course."
Jupiter scowls. "With who?"
"My Pokemon." Cyrus gives a smile. A warm, reassuring smile. "I know the way, Jupiter. It'll be okay."
"Cyrus…"
"I can go with Cyrus," Cynthia volunteers. And that smile crumbles into dust.
"Diamond and Mars will need your knowledge, Champion Cynthia," he states. Like a demand. "You know the way around Foggy Forest. You know the secret of Groudon's Heart."
"But Cyrus—"
"Your talents are best suited where you're needed the most." Cyrus hobbles down the stairs. He walks up to that unestablished boundary, eyes bearing straight into her spine. And after all this time, she still has to look up to meet his face. "Besides, I'll just slow you down."
"Cyrus, listen to me. You started walking not too long ago. Don't be so stubborn—"
"I will be fine." Cyrus's smile is thin. His voice had gained an edge. "Our contract requires mutual corporation. I trust you to play your part, and in return, I ask that you trust me too."
"Cy—"
"May I see your hand?" Huh? At a time like this… Cynthia reluctantly complies. In one fluid motion, Cyrus shakes his sleeve, and out drops the Red Sunstone into her palm.
"C-Cyrus." A hole opens in her heart. Frost gathering around her lungs. "Cyrus, what are you doing?!"
"My collateral," he replies, amused. "Use it to unlock the mystery of Foggy Forest."
The Sunstone is… cold. To the touch. Upon closer inspection, it seems to have lost much of its red luster. Maybe it's the lighting… "Cyrus." A slight panic bubbles in Cynthia's voice. "You can't just… This is your treasure! You found it!"
"It is a stone," Cyrus responds flatly. "A piece of earth and nothing more."
But… Cynthia holds the Red Sunstone to her bosom. Hopefully it'll warm up soon. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Cyrus leave. Leaves to the center of the foyer, where he holds his head high, steely gaze scanning the remnants of his team.
To some, it's an eerily familiar scene. One they can't quite draw the connection to.
Cyrus closes his eyes. A deep inhale, his shoulders relaxing as his spine unfurls to its full glory. He opens them, and he speaks.
"The arrangements have been finalized. Tomorrow, we'll set out on our individual paths. Spend the rest of the day preparing for the journey ahead."
He pauses. Gaze drifts to the windows, to the cloudy skies. As if he wants to say something more, but he simply signals the meeting's end. Then bodies are flying everywhere as everyone tunes into preparation mode.
What? Cynthia thought it was the wind at first. She turns to see Cyrus on the balcony before he disappears into the darkness. No, he definitely did say something. The words register in her visceral organs at first before they reach her ears. Almost like a feedback of distorted audio.
"I couldn't have asked for a better team."
There has never been so much movement in the mansion. It might be dusk, but there's a party in the old haunted house.
"Potions, Potions!"
"Anyone got Revives? Reviver Seeds work too!"
"I got a whole bag of Blast Seeds!"
"Anyone found my Power Band?"
Cynthia almost slams into a rushing Grunt. The Dexholders ask her to help them transport stuff, and she gladly obliges.
As the gears of the well-oiled machine run their course, there's a line outside the boss's office. He's inviting everyone in, one-by-one, to inspect their gear.
"The headpiece is working." Cyrus returns that to the Grunts. "And allow me to see your rucksack… Sitrus Berries, Reviver Seeds… and an Escape Orb?"
"Y-Yesh." B-2 puts his hands on his ample hits. "Just in case we run into a Monster House." His Beautify whimpers at the thought of that. "But we'll get the Time Gear, Cyrus. I swear it on my Butt Bounce Attack!"
R-8 rolls her eyes. "You are so full of yourself."
Cyrus leans back. A slow, quiet breath escapes his lips. His gaze wanders about the room, lingering on the rucksack, the arguing Grunts before him.
"You made him mad!" R-8 smacks her colleague on his big head. B-2's nostrils flare, and he gets her back with a pinch on the neck.
"You two have been around the longest." Arguments die immediately. "I have a question for you, B-2 and R-8… or would you prefer me to address you by your real names?"
They look at each other. Silence answers that question.
Cyrus picks at his sleeve. "A lawyer and a dentist… Why did you choose to join me? What made you give up everything to follow this nobody and his stupid illusions?"
Silence. Someone is yelling down there, but it quickly recedes into the static background.
"W-Why the sudden question, Doc?"
"Please answer me, B-2."
B-2 exchanges another glance with R-8. "Um… well…" He scratches his head. "You see…"
"I have a question for you, Cyrus." The boss frowns. R-8 licks her lips. "Just how bad is your stage fright?"
The expression on his face says it all. She continues. "With every speech you made at Hearthome, you pushed yourself to overcome your glaring weakness. Am I right? It was so bad to the point of blacking out…
"But you kept trying. You kept trying because you truly believe in making your dream a reality. What you spoke weren't empty promises, but convictions. You put your heart, your soul into your words, and I heard that." She places a hand over her bosom. "Before you came, I don't think the sun has ever shone so brightly over Hearthome City."
B-2 grins. "Yes, what she said. Plus, I really like Galactic, despite my having no idea what I'm doing most of the time. Back then, while it was true that it was a well-paying profession, something felt missing. Empty." He utters a soft sigh. "Cold, rational judgement is no substitute for happiness, Cyrus. We can't survive without food, but we won't be human without compassion."
Cyrus frowns. Some sort of complicated equation had been unraveling inside that brain. His brows furrow, as if he's weighing a difficult decision.
"I see." There's something off about his voice, but the Grunts can't place it. "That's… all. Thank you for answering my question."
"Cyrus. Is something wrong?"
"No. No, everything is okay, R-8." Cyrus is smiling, but his grip has tightened over his crutches. "Inspection is over. I need to check in with the next group."
"Cyrus…?"
"Please assist the others. More details will be given come tomorrow morning."
Knowing that they won't get much more from the boss, the Grunts nod. "Okay, Doc," B-2 says. "Don't… don't push yourself too hard, okay? We're all here if you ever need to talk."
Cyrus turns to the side. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, R-8 and B-2."
The Dexholders hold their breath as Cyrus inspects their bags with a cursory glance.
"Diamond?"
"Yes, M-Mister Cyrus?"
Cyrus points to a metal lunch box. "You have a lot of merchandise of this robot."
The boy gapes. "Um. Y-Yeah! That's ProTeam Omega. Look, it's him right here. And that's the bad guy: The Demon Brioche." He opens his lunchbox. "I packed rice balls in case we get hungry on our trip."
"Well-prepared, as always." Pearl slings an arm over his friend. "Hey, Mister Cyrus. What kind of place is Northern Desert?"
Cyrus unfurls his own copy of the Wonder Map. "The area on the map is obscured by clouds, but the dry terrain starts in this area here. That's why it's rumored that a vast desert extends from this point onward… a secret beneath the sands. I believe that a Time Gear is hidden within its depths."
"Your intuition has been spot-on," Rowan murmurs. Cyrus's finger twitches. "Same with Crystal Cave… The Forests as well…"
"M-Mister Cyrus!" Platinum yelps. "Any advice for Treeshroud Forest?"
That, and Cyrus snaps back into Boss Mode. "Spend as little time there as possible. Do not touch anything. If you feel unwell, leave immediately."
Platinum swallows. "O-Okay. Okay, Mister Cyrus. Will do."
Cyrus sighs. "Regrettably, I lacked enough resources for more headpieces. You'll have to share with the Commanders.
"That being said, you'll do fine. You've overcome by obstacles with Pokemon by your side… You're all very brave for coming here in the first place."
The kids stare at him. Even the professor's resting frown had warped into a odd shape. Cyrus turns his head to the windows, letting his gaze fall over the darkening horizon.
"There's a particular equation that has captivated me as of late," he hums. "Deep, quiet emotions…" Dia bites his lips. "Strong iron-clad willpower…" Pearl scratches his head. "And when you add to that knowledge, in the presence of a trustworthy mentor…"
Platinum raises an eyebrow. "Er… what… what are you talking about, Mister Cyrus?"
"I apologize, Miss Berlitz. I've been rambling as of late." Cyrus inhales a deep whiff of forest air, shoulders rising and falling. "Anyhow, do your best. Meet everyone on the top of Mt. Coronet once you're done."
Pearl mouths something to Dia. The boy nudges Platinum, who looks up at Professor Rowan.
"Cyrus," Rowan says. A stiff exhale from the other side. "Here."
Cyrus glances over his shoulder. Frowns as his eyes narrow to the point of squinting again. "Oh. I apologize, I should've seen that when I cleaned the room."
"I didn't lose it." The old man slides that card into Cyrus's shirt pocket.
"What—"
"I'm always looking for creative minds. Those with a passion for learning, a critical eye towards research..." Something else had replaced the professor's signature frown. "Those willing to learn from their mistakes… are always welcome to assist me in my lab."
Cyrus is staring at the old man as if he'd snapped. Then the implications sink in, and he gasps. "No! N-No—"
"Let's go, Dia, Pearl, Platinum."
"Wait, Professor—"
The children rush out the door with Rowan at their heels.
"Good work today, Cyrus." And with that, Professor Rowan closes the door.
Cyrus didn't hear the door open. He's wholly absorbed in glaring down at that slip of paper in his hand. Saturn clears his throat before the paper can erupt into an all-consuming flame.
"Master Cyrus… What are you looking at?"
"Nothing." Cyrus tucks his hand under the pillow. "Please, have a seat."
Mars pulls out the chairs before Cyrus can get up. "So here's what I'm planning to bring, Boss. Gummi. Lotsa Pecha Berries. Gravelerock."
Saturn huffs. He reaches into his pack. "Here. Some Escape Orbs, just in case. And a Persim Scarf. Prevents Pokemon from getting confused in Foggy Forest."
"I'm so excited, Saturn!" Mars cries. "Finally, some action! We're back to taking Time Gears, but now we'll s-save the world!"
"Aren't you scared at all, Mars?" Saturn rubs his arms. She stops smiling. "This is a really important mission. We're going into unknown territory… and the repercussions will be huge if we fail—"
"Don't talk like that!" Jupiter barks—and grimaces. "Sorry. Don't… don't talk like that."
Another silence. Saturn turns. "M-Master Cyrus? Is there… something on my face?"
"Everyone calls me 'Cyrus' now. There's no need to address me with such formality." A tilt of the head. "But no matter how many times I tell you otherwise, you still persist. Why?"
Saturn bites his lips. "Why…? B-Because you're our boss…"
"I can't think of any other way to call you," Mars adds. "It just… stuck."
Cyrus's fingers are drumming across his knees. A nail tapping his temples. As if he's sifting through the many records in his dusty archives.
"Could've been a Pokemon Trainer…"
"What?"
Cyrus silently extends a hand. Saturn frowns, but he accepts the gift. "Ooh, this is the old man's card," Mars chirps. "Why're you giving this to us, Boss?"
Cyrus simply smiles, oblivious to Jupiter's intense staring. "It's quite late," he says. "You should rest early."
"Um. You… too, Master Cyrus." Mars glances to the window. "Follow your own advice for once."
The man chuckles. He props his chin on a palm, a peaceful smile forming on his softened features. It could've been a day on the beach. Listening to a scary story, a shower song… A song of the Wingull as waves crash against the shore...
Then Cyrus slams his fist down. When the Commanders regain their senses, they're gawking back at his usual frown.
"That's enough for today." Cyrus stands. Moves to the window so there's ample distance between him and his Commanders. "Please assist the others. We're leaving tomorrow morning."
Mars wrings her hands. Saturn coughs into his wrist. They look at Jupiter, who releases her clenched fists.
"Okay," says the older woman in a strained voice. "Good night, Cyrus."
"Good night, Jupiter." They can't see his face. The window panes are too dark to reflect. "Good night, Mars and Saturn."
"Cyrus?"
"Champion Cynthia…" A sharp exhale. "Please, have a seat."
"Okay…" Her heart's racing again. And Cyrus is doing everything he can to avoid her face. He keeps messaging his temples, as if there's a great weight on his mind. Unsurprising, but right now, she can smell the frustration emitting from his very being.
What are you thinking, Cyrus? What is it that you don't want others to know?
"I trust that you've brought the appropriate supplies?"
"Y-Yes." There's no moon in the sky. A somber glow settles into the lonely bedroom. "Here."
"Hmm. You've stocked up on Reviver Seeds." Cyrus is talking to the contents of her pouch. "Well-prepared, as expected."
Cynthia takes a breath. "Cyrus, the Sunstone—"
'Thank you for bearing with me. It must've been frustrating waiting for me to get my act together." A thin smile. "No more distractions, I assure you. I've got a promise to keep, and you've got an obligation to fulfill."
A cold fire gleams in those faded eyes. "You're the strongest Trainer in the world, but that doesn't mean you should be overconfident. Mars and Diamond will help you, and if worse comes to worst, let me know. I'll help you in any way I can."
You've helped me in more ways that you could've imagined. "What'll happen then, Cyrus? A-After this is over…"
Cyrus clicks his teeth. "Do what it is you deem wise, Champion Cynthia." He deposits himself on the bed. Raps his fingers to the broken march of the clock downstairs. TICK. TICK. Cynthia tears her eyes off the floor.
"Why do you still call me 'Champion?'"
Cyrus blinks. "Because that's who you are. A Champion. A Hero."
"Cyrus…" Cynthia runs a tongue across his lips. Rubs her knuckles together. "Why can't things be like back then? We're not enemies—"
"You're allowing this needless sentimentality to cloud your judgement, Champion Cynthia. That… helps no one." Cyrus shoves the blanket to the side.
"Cyrus." The Red Sunstone almost slips from her fingers. Almost shatters into a million, irreversible pieces. "I should go with you. We both know the way to Crystal Lake."
I won't leave you alone again.
"Tch." His frown is cold enough to snap a crystal in two. "You still don't trust me, do you?"
"N-No, that's—"
"I never mean to criticize your decision, Champion Cynthia." She freezes. "I'm just… wondering. That's why I surrendered the Red Sunstone." She opens her mouth. Cyrus shakes his head. "At least let me have control over my operation. Let me have a say in something. Please."
So stubborn. Just like… Holy Arceus. Just like me. Cynthia stares down at the Red Sunstone, although 'red' is an understatement. She'd memorize all the cracks, all the nicks… yet the stone itself still feels so… unfamiliar.
Cyrus clears his throat softly, effectively shattering the silence. "I need to prepare for tomorrow, Champion Cynthia. Please go home."
Tomorrow… Cynthia stands. "Okay. Take care, Cyrus. Good night."
She never expected a response until one whispers back, almost passable for the rustling trees.
"Good night."
Cynthia's chest is heaving as she drifts down the stairs. It's dark now—everyone went to bed early. That's just how important tomorrow is.
She almost trips over a leg. Togekiss stares up from behind the walls of its capsule.
"Kakaka…"
Ice shoots down Cynthia's spine. She braces herself for a Shadow Ball that never comes. Instead, those crimson eyes keep their distance.
"He'll be okay," Cynthia whispers. Fangs flash in the darkness.
"Cynthia."
Gengar vanishes into the shadows. Heels clip across wooden floorboards, whatever light that's left catching on gleaming violet hues.
"Jupiter?" Cynthia glances around. "You're still awake?"
"Cynthia." Jupiter states that name with all its meaning and implications. "I have a small favor to ask of you."
A twirl. A courtesy. A graceful leap over the ornate couches and leather ottomans.
Crobat finds herself moving with the rhythm of that Haunter's violin. What era is this music? Certainly not in the last 50 years…
"Me now! Me!" Weavile jumps into the dance floor. He runs a claw down his collar, flicks a stray hair out of place. "May I have this dance, Lady?" he purrs.
"Oh, you're so sweet." Gengar accepts his invitation. "Do you know how to waltz?"
"Eh? I-I mean. But of course, madam. I'm sure you'll make an excellent teacher."
"Zzzt! Disco ball time-zzt!"
"This is wonderful," Crobat gasps. Honchkrow cracks a smirk. "But won't the noise wake everyone up?"
"We're on the third floor, are we not?" Honchkrow spreads a wing over the lavish room. Weavile is thrashing about the floor. It's a miracle there hasn't been any complaints. Yet.
"I CAN HEAR HIM FROM HERE," Gyarados groans from inside the Poke Ball.
"Oh, let him dance," says Crobat. "He deserves it."
Honchrkow throws a slight cough. "Yes, yes he certainly does." He makes another strangled sort of sound. Fiddles his talons. Crobat tilts her head, but he quickly pulls down his fedora.
After the waltz ends, the room bursts into applause. Tears glimmer in Weavile's eyes as he basks in his ten minutes of fame.
"Magnificent performance, Weavile." Even Cyrus is clapping. The cat launches himself into his open arms. Honchkrow tugs at the human's leg. "You did wonderful too, Honchkrow." He brings the crow up to his shoulders. "Why didn't you dance with Crobat as well?"
Honchkrow snaps his beak. Cyrus merely chuckles.
Crobat turns. "So your name is Elise? That's a lovely name."
Elise's face brightens considerably. "Thank you! My father was inspired by his favorite novel." She taps a claw to her mouth. "Shame though. Cyrus should really name his Pokemon."
"He's not really creative," Weavile says.
"He called me Wingull once," Honchkrow grunts. "Do I look anything like those miserable bird-brains?"
"What is everyone talking about?"
Rotom giggles. "Nothing, nothing-zzt. Hey, Cyrus-zzt. You should lead."
Cyrus scoffs. "Me? In this state? I can't even walk for ten steps without falling."
"Then why do you insist on going alone?" Elise snaps. The music screeches to a stop.
Alone…? Crobat swivels back. "Cyrus, where are you going?"
"To finish what I started," Cyrus replies after Rotom's translation. He pats Crobat's head. "We'll be leaving early tomorrow."
"Bzzt, bzzt, finally!" Rotom loops a figure eight. "Some action-zzt! I'mma shock'em with this, Cyrus-zzt! They don't know who they're messing with-zzzzt!"
Cyrus gives the Plasma Pokemon a long look. Then he stands, stumbling a bit, and crosses the now darkened room to the lone source of light.
"Cyrus," says the Haunter. "Where are you going?"
"I'm just looking, Mister Mori." Cyrus throws a leg over the window ledge.
And her heart tightens. With no reason nor rhyme, Crobat flings herself forward, wings blindly groping for a piece of the man she calls her Trainer. She grabs his wrist, and the constriction vanishes into a sigh of relief.
"Crobat…" Cyrus picks her up. "Don't… don't look at me like that."
"Get back before you fall!" Honchkrow snarls.
"Look at the view, everyone." Cyrus ushers the crow and cat into his arms. Weavile snuggles into the rough fabric of that cast, smiling at the sound of that calm, soothing voice. It's so high up… as if I'm looking down from a castle to the domains of my land. The trees, the grass, the flowers, the sparkling lights of a city nearby. Crobat sneezes, and Cyrus holds her closer. "I wonder what colors make up the night sky. They must very nice colors… Oh, look there, Honchkrow. The Northern Star—"
"Don't dangle your legs like that!" Honchkrow barks. Cyrus chuckles, but he pulls his knees back.
"Oooooooooo…" Red eyes flashing in the wind. Streamers. A large, violet body. "Cyrus, it is quite late—"
"I'll be back," Cyrus announces to the Ghosts. He throws himself forward, and thank Arceus Drifblim catches him in time. Despite the Blimp Pokemon's grumbling, she allows the man to board her swing.
"Cyrus—"
"I'm just going for a little walk, Mister Mori. Let's go, Drifblim."
Drifblim casts a wary glance, but she nevertheless takes to the skies. The Pokemon also spread their wings—with the exception of Weavile, who's just as content to hang out on that cast like a baby.
"You can Fly?" Honchkrow grunts when Gyarados is released. The sea serpent is indeed treading air like he does water.
"WHY ARE YOU SO SURPRISED?" And that's the end of that.
Weavile shifts. "Hey, Cyrus. I want a Watmel Berry. Ya got any more of them Poffins?"
Cyrus looks at Rotom. "He wants food, doesn't he?"
"Ding ding-zzt! Watmel Berry." Rotom giggles. "You don't need me to translate, Cyrus-zzt. You understand them perfectly well!"
Cyrus replies with silence. In fact, he remains silent for the rest of the ride while the Pokemon chatter on and on about the most random of things. Crobat happens to catch his gaze, but before she can say anything, he had turned away.
Driblim settles down on a clearing of whispering trees. There's a full view of the moonless sky… but one can always be amazed at the vast breadth of the heavens. It's the same skies from all those years ago—back at that place of golden sands and beaches, back when she and Murkrow knocked on that window and he'd rush over to welcome them in.
"An expedition you say?" a Kangaskhan exclaims. "Be careful, dear! It's a rough time for traveling."
"You need TMs?" says a pink Kecleon.
"You need Seeds?" adds his brother.
A Vigoroth jolts. "Wait. You're goin' to Crystal Cave?"
Gyarados cocks his head. "YES… WHAT ABOUT IT?"
The monkey pounds his fists into the grass. "My great-great-great-great-great-great-great Grandmama Slaking says there's nothin' but bad about that place. Only those lookin' for trouble go there."
"Surely it's not that bad," Crobat mutters.
"Nah lady. Is bad." Vigoroth is shivering now. The temperature suddenly plummets. "Them rumors. Naaasty rumors. Horrifying rumors… Tell your human to stay away if he knows what's good for 'im."
Rotom had stopped smiling long ago. "What rumors, bzzt?"
"The one called Mesprit—"
"Rotom."
"BZZT! Y-Yeah?"
Cyrus keeps his gaze straight ahead. "You will remain at the Old Chateau."
"BBZZZTT?! WHY?!" Rotom thrusts its crackling axis into the air, almost burning Kangaskhan's baby. She shoots it a scowl, but the former is too agitated to listen. Cyrus's frown deepens. "You have room for me-zzt! And I'm fast—bzzzt! Look!" Budew flee from the trees when lightning cleaves their home in two.
"Rotom," Cyrus snaps. It winces. "I need you to stay to watch over the Old Chateau. Drifblim will be there if anything goes awry." The Blimp Pokemon makes a soft, rumbling sound. "A part of my team will also be there. And you have friends here who can help you."
"But I want to GO! BZZZT!" Cyrus's hair shoots from his follicles. Rotom hisses, and the air visibly shakes. "LET ME GO-BZZZT!"
"Rotom!"
"What if something happens to you, Cyrus-zzt?! What if… W-W-What i-if…"
Rotom freezes. It blinks. Blinks again as its gaze slowly climbs to that hand. A hand that, ignoring the electricity splintering against skin, curls around the lightning rod with a gentle grip.
"Zzzt… Cyrus…?"
"Thank you for being my friend, Rotom."
Rotom ceases struggling. A cold breeze blows, rolling leaves across the forest floor.
"Pardon me, Rotom." Rotom moves. Cyrus stumbles to a fallen log, and he sits. He scoops a silent Crobat into his lap. Then Honchkrow. Then Weavile.
"CYRUS?" Gyarados whispers when the man leans against his body. The serpent lowers his head. "CYRUS?
A deep breath resonates from Cyrus's chest. Rising. Falling. His lips part, and a puff of chilled air skims above Crobat's face.
Honchkrow sighs. "Well. At least he didn't pass out on the ground."
"It is safe," Drifblim says. "Nothing will harm him here."
His heartbeat is… irregular. Or is that mine? Crobat's eyelids are drooping as well. It's been a long day. She wiggles into his bosom, wedging herself into the familiar smell of dusty metal and crisp pine.
Weavile yawns. "What time we wakin' up tomorrow?"
"HE WILL WAKE YOU UP," Gyarados responds. "JUST REST FOR NOW."
As the Pokemon drift to sleep, Rotom turns its gaze to the man. Stares at him. Reaches a muted axis—hesitates—and taps his cheekbone. Tck. No reaction. Except for a furrow of the brow.
"Of course I'm your friend, Cyrus-zzt. What craziness are you saying-zzt?" Rotom pokes him again. A brief spark, but Cyrus merely sinks deeper into sleep. Rotom's mouth tugs gently.
"Bzzt… Don't keep me waiting, okay? Save the world and all that-zzt, but don't forget about me." A playful flick on the ear. "Good night, bestie-zzt."
