Part 7.75: The Lost Fict
Memory Phase γ
This is the meat and potatoes of the memories.
Oh and also, back to the present.
I don't own Pokémon.
Secany
Memory Phase - γ
"Enough waiting," said Nephi, perturbed. She was with another human, this one also cloaked, but in white instead of dark gray, and with a mix of scents that confused my nose more than ever before. The human was with his back to me, his cloak wider than the human Cruce's before him. He appeared to be in pain. From this angle, with one arm hidden and the other at his side, he looked to be holding his chest. "You are useless hidden away. I am to either wring out answers from you or Xima, and I would sooner crumble than chase that trollop."
"Xima?" the human droned, his voice raspy, smoky.
"Yes. Xima, the Siren. A Gamma mutt," Nephi clarified. "Now, 'Father', what is Doctor Kaiser? He wouldst needed years of practice with Gamma to understand its fundamentals – this is outrageous! He cannot be human!"
"That rock..." the white-cloaked man wheezed. "'The hell did it... go inside of me, or...?"
"Mph, the 'rock' went in all three of you, in technicality," the shaymin corrected. "Dare I say I am intrigued – Allen did not have this luxury, and certainly not Zatch."
"Foster...? The detective?" the man asked.
"None other; a man of peerless benevolence," Nephi mused, charmed, but soon after, she spoke with spite. "A man you never could have been, and a man you will never be."
"You're shitting me," the man coughed. "You think that guy is any better than me? He puts on a face to make sure he gets a pay raise. We're all like that."
"Do not lecture me," Nephi hissed. "To lecture me is to think me important to you. You lost that privilege long ago."
"Pff," the man scoffed, shaking his hooded head. "So what're you supposed to be? Did that alien rock... mind control you, or what? And why do you know Kaiser? What is that all about?"
"Mind control? Ah-huhu, me? Oh, sod off," she told him, at first amused, then harshly serious. "You have wiped the old 'me' away. Now, I am made of cancerous memories. I can never forget what you and your 'research team' did to me. I can only put you and my memories on a par, and that par is pain. So, 'Chevron', do you know what I do when people transform? Do you know why it hurts so?"
The shaymin stopped to take a deep sniff of a white rose by her face.
"I take you. I cut you in trine. I mutilate two of you, and I take the last, set it back on its way, and watch it grow. The other two? They decorate my Scion's throne.
I do this all in the time it takes for you to change, as your doubled over, writhing in breathtaking agony...
Sometimes, people like you drift along, and I compose myself – I do not split you into three. Or, sometimes, I split some into three, but I hone my craft on them. I bring them to new life with the pieces of others I have built.
Surely it's no different from the Tide. It made me this way, after all.
But you?
Ah-huhu, you...
I was so endeared when I had learned that you had transformed into a shaymin, too; but, the Doctor fixed you. Black Gamma. He used the other half of my color to turn you human again. How? How could man so quickly acquiesce to Gamma? It is as if that Doctor had Gamma long before the Wave crashed onto the shore of Autumnridge...
And I think he did have it, but...
...but not of I. Not of Aza. Somebody else..."
She seemed to be amusing herself at this point. Surely this Chevron man had no clue who 'Aza' was, only 'Laza', I imagined, but in spite of that, Nephi looked high to the human, perusing him for an answer, her eyelids shielding those little green jewels away.
"What, y'think I have anything to say?" asked the man, still hard of breath. "I ain't remember shit – I already told you. I never turned into a Pokémon. I was 'me' all along, kiddo, 'n I don't do science on cartoons."
"There are fractures to your memory," Nephi explained. "That night, when you became infected, you turned to Blue Gamma. But, two other pieces came with that – Red, that which cannot be without Blue, and Black. The Black Gamma third stands before me now, a vampire of his former self.
Now, Father, that breaks one of my rules: a different body for each Crossblade. How did Doctor Kaiser do that? How did he learn?
"Look," the impatient, raspy man began, tossing his arms out to either side. "I'll tell ya all I can, 'kay sunshine? I took that alien rock thing. I went to Cruce's hospital bedside. Shit went berserk, and the next thing I know, I'm wakin' up to the goddamn rock squeezing into my stomach," he took a breath. "'N then I'm here."
A clock ticked between the two. They watched one another, saying nothing.
"What?" the man curtly commented.
More ticks. Nothing from Nephi.
"C'mon. What?" he asked again.
"Is that all... you have to say... to me?" Nephi answered, growling deep. The discomposure didn't really belong to her. It was an unfitting ring to her voice.
"It's gotta be," he shrugged, unfazed. "If it's anything more, bad people like me come and sweep people like you under the rug. Then step on it."
"I-is that..." Nephi shook, furious. "Is that what happened to Molly?"
"Don't give me that horseshit..."
"I've done the math. Sammy always said Molly was too smart for her own good. You hurt her, didn't you?" Nephi clamored, sounding less and less like the superior, womanly figure she once was. "You hurt our whole family."
The man lowered his arms, slow and uncanny, but he didn't say a word back.
"Maybe it's better you don't have anything to say," Nephi concluded. "I hate you. I wish you weren't you."
"Go 'head. Make it happen. There's another me out there? Fuck it, there's another two me's. You make me different, those other ones will just take up my stead. Makes my job a whole lot easier, eh?" he told her, chuckling his way through. "I ain't scared, kiddo. Never was."
"I could kill you. I could imprison you here and make you suffer forever, or I could feed you to Scion," Nephi claimed. "But I hate you. No amount of pain can make you anybody else, and if I end your life, you'd die a miserable man. I won't even waste my energy on that."
"I mean, I don't feel very miserable. Probably a perspective thing, in't it?" the man shook his head. "Well, no one ever sees it from mine."
"It wouldn't be worth it." Nephi grumbled. She turned quickly, and began storming away as fast as her tiny legs could take her, weaving through Crossblades, little green and white shape scuttling into the mist.
"Heeey, where you goin'? You just gonna ditch me? Thought we could have a real heart-to-heart!" he mocked.
"Heart-to-heart?! You know NOTHING about my heart!" she yelled back to him, voice fading into the white mire.
The man (and myself) became convinced that the shaymin was gone after a few moments of lackluster quiet passed us by. The human walked into the patch of flowers with no regard for them, trampling over the flora with white boots. He squatted, resting his arms over his knees, before taking a finger and tracing underneath the inscription. He leaned to one side, looking past the grave, then returned his attention to it.
"Man, kiddo, you took so much energy outta me," he said to the stone. "Just like your mom 'n your grandpop. 'N Sofs, too... Jesus, Sofs, they thought I was crazy. 'Guess I married you, so... yeah, good call on their behalf.
Sofs, I really wonder what you're doing right now. You still human? ...Fuck it. You never were. I knew that much.
God, what did the Tide do to our family? I almost feel bad."
The man let out a powerful, remorseful sigh, coupled with a groan at its end. What it conveyed was as contagious as a yawn. This man, so disrespectful and without grief, managed it.
"Kid said she made two other versions of me, or whatever," he shrugged. "Maybe it ain't so bad that she wants me to be someone else. Maybe then, I could, uh... say I'm all... sorry 'n... 'n shit.
Hm. Sorry, kids."
The man bobbed his head, clicked his tongue, then rubbed along the side of the gravestone with one hand, reaching over the tap and patting it, after which he used it as a means to stand up straight, hand still hovering over the top of the curved stone.
Somebody was behind him now. I wasn't sure how long he was there, if time had passed at all, or if Nephi had used some trick to get him there, but...
...Aza was right behind the man, tail flicking high.
The man's hand stayed above the headstone, half-clutched, apprehensive and ready to react, albeit not quite sure how to. He knew he wasn't alone. Aza set his rump down, tucked his back legs in, and watched the strange human. Cute little curious espeon as always...
"Hello...?" Aza chimed. No reaction. "She told me, um, you were... rude. You made her angry."
"Yeah," he finally exhaled. "Can't say she was all flowers 'n sunny days, 'spite lookin' the part."
"I'm gonna make this quick, okay?" Aza claimed. "It might get odd; after all, you have another Gamma inside of you."
I felt myself tremble. Tension was between them, but it was as much a ghost as myself.
Aza watched him, ready for a move – he would've been too fast for a human. Any human. Right?
"Know what?" the man said, facing the other direction. I could see his sharp chin, his low-hanging nose, and his devilish lips, but not his eyes. If he really was Nephi's 'father', then they weren't to keen on showing their eyes. A menacing air settled between he and my brother, his hands balling up into fists, half-buttoned white coat trickling at the flowers desperately reaching out from underneath his boots. The two were surrounded by Crossblades. "Change of plans."
With a quick flick of one arm, he threw up his cloak and revealed a belt armed with devices, From there, he pulled a dark, silvery mechanism with a black handle and a long, straight bit, a deep round hole at its end. Some kind of cannon? He pointed the weapon right at Aza.
A grin folded his cheeks.
There came an empty click.
The grin turned to a scowl.
A blue light took the place of the espeon, racing forward, diving through the man and splashing against the headstone, streams of blue spreading out like flares, traces of Aza's colorful orbs highlighting the spectacle. Facing the human head on, he appeared to have been shot through the gut, right where he'd claimed the rock to have planted itself. Behind him, an explosion of brother's Gamma. His arm was still forward, but the gun fell from his opening hand. Gritting both rows of teeth together, the weight of the sunburst energy was proving too much for the human. He took a step back and turned his head high – high enough for me to see his strangely orange, feline eyes, not before he grabbed his hood, pulled it over his nose, and slapped another hand to his gut. He backed away, until he stumbled and fell into the grass and white flowers, the nova of Gamma still playing behind him, slow as flowing lava, beautiful as an aurora, a wingspan of blue so wide that it blanketed the area of sand and Crossblades beneath the grave. The man, doomed to transform, slumped against the gravestone, his head low, mortified for what was to come.
With his work complete, the formless energy named Aza escaped into the white, the afterglow of his color looming around the headstone for some time, but from what my nose was telling me – those perfume-like smells starting to wane away, Aza had left, like for Nephi to come in and clean up the mess.
With anticipation, I waited and watched for any sign of change to the man. Instead, a shimmering shape flew before me. It appeared human, but without much visibility other than a ripple indicating its figure, it was just an apparition to me. Then, it grew color – a lack of such, all white, with no facial features. A strider, plain as they came, was approaching me. Me, I thought. It saw me. It moved as though its decisions were impacted by my presence, that I was there right now and it was going to interact with me. Interact it did, taking one huge arm high, a Cross-shape coming together in its hand. It was going to strike me. I tried to turn. I tried to look the other way. I tried to move. I couldn't do any of that.
I didn't have a body at all, did I? I wasn't looking at the world through my own eyes.
The Clock. I remembered. I took it – no, I was given it!
I was the Clock now – RIGHT now! I couldn't move, because I was just a trinket around the neck of somebody named Secany.
Nephi's eyes were always closed with it.
The monstrous strider swung. I thought my hardest to close my eyes. I put my every being into that one mundane action. Let my eyelids fall, I thought. C'mon. Go to sleep. Something!
…
I never did get hit by that strider, but it had the Crossblade, so I would'a liked to think it may have hurt, but not any more than owning my Cross at any given time. Come to think of it, how did a plain strider get a Crossblade anyway? Was that one of the ones that Nephi and Aza 'tested' on? Was it the one that Scion slew? It didn't add up. From what I'd seen, and what I'd kept seeing until I shut my eyes – if I shut my eyes at all – there were only two striders that were, uh, brought here? Unless that was the same one that was about to attack Aza when Nephi had thrown her sword right through its face. But, no, that wasn't right, 'cause this strider didn't HAVE Nephi's sword. It had a bland Crossblade.
Hadn't I seen one of those things with a boring old Crossblade before? Wasn't it...
...in the Paradox? I fought it. I protected Zatch from it, before... he was Rayse. And Luna was there, too.
Katalyn's Crossblade.
Where am I...? Where have I been this whole time? Am I alive? I don't remember. It's all a play to me. I'm just here, watching the stage and its cast, but I can't participate. Am I stuck in the Clock? Am I really... THE Clock? I don't want to be. That... sucks. But if I am, then how did I get here?
…
"Close your eyes!" he told me again.
Eyes?
"It's chosen you! You are its master now! So long as you have it, you need to close your eyes! That's the only way to wield that kind of power.
Trust me. Please. I know who created it."
…
The sound of a secondhand rumbling, echoing in a vast space.
The space was blanketed in white fog. Still water surrounded an islet of opalescent sand. A headstone encompassed by colorless flowers of wide variety sat in the center of the sandy islet, ominous, at a delicate slant as to face the foggy sky. The waters were without much depth, and two narrow bridges of sand divided said waters, connected to the islet. They seemed to disappear into the mist, providing new immediate clue as to their length. Buried within the shallow waters were Crossblades, each at their own tilt, some straight, some buried at the hilts and not the blades. With each vision that flew me by, the Crossblades shifted slightly, as if used or disrupted in some way unseen.
These visions swarmed me. Figures and voices, rumbling and deafening wind all played together. I was afraid. My chest ached with the pain of my sheathed Cross, but I wanted to pull it out in a last ditch effort to escape the dreams. They were never-ending.
Air rushed through my head. Thousands of echoes, volume unrelenting. Liquid tickled my cheeks, before dripping off of my chin. I bit both rows of teeth together until my jaw hurt. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. My eyes became sore, like I'd been sleeping through a nightmare, shutting my eyes tighter in hopes that the pain would help me escape; but, my eyes, despite being behind thin layers of my skin, still showed me all this – this beach, with the white sand, the Crosses, and... that little white espurr just sitting up against the headstone, pointy legs out, caressing the golden, winged weapon that was far too great for him to hold. He used to be pink, yeah? A shiny espurr? Well, he was white now, and with golden eyes to boot. I got the message loud and clear – loud as the advice he'd given me, even if it took its dear time reaching me. I still got it. I was watching him through closed eyes. The feeling was alien, my eyes shielded, but vision saying otherwise. It was daunting. I disliked it. What if I wanted to sleep? What if I wanted to blink. I supposed it was good that I didn't need either of those things, being made of Gamma; but then, I still had skin and I still felt pain. On top of that, my eyes still functioned like eyes in that they could see...
Not well enough, apparently. I'd missed so much.
"You did it..." praised the little espurr boy. "Good. It's about time."
I mumbled questioningly, afraid to speak. Hell, I was scared to move. Was I still a glaceon? I must've been. I could feel a familiar coldness to my core, like it'd only just come back after... having no core. It wasn't easy being a... clock.
"It's okay. You don't have'ta talk," he shook his big head, the smiled openly at me. "You can come over here. I'm not that dangerous."
I didn't know what to do. I wanted to trust him. He spoke with so much invitation that it was hard not to turn the other way. That, and he was the only point of real interest here, save the headstone and flowers he rested in front of. I put one leg forward, and one step became another, cautious all the same. I crept up to him.
"...Yeah, take your time, I'm not going anywhere." he told me. Deja vu, I thought, if deja vu carried any significance in a place like this. I bit apprehension and put caution to the wind – I put it behind me, moving onward, until my front paws were touching the grassy bed, such a strange, soft transition from sand to flowers. It was a nice little garden. Even here, I could appreciate it. I lifted my gaze to the tiny Pokémon, hugging his ornamental weapon. His smile was still there.
Above his furry head, the headstone read, 'Here lies Molly Maximilius'. The headstone was cracked along its ridges, said ridges lavished with looping vines and drifting leaves to convey a sylvan autumn. A simple thing, but still pretty.
When I raised my head, I noticed an irritation itch my neck. I was wearing a choker of sorts, beaded together by rubies, all working together to tether a shattered silver clock, one of its hands bent out of shape, the other missing. The object had been bent inward, warped concave. It hung, at once promising to be a tighter fit, but rendered loose by the damage.
And I was seeing all of this with eyes closed.
"I'm really glad you're okay," said the espurr. "You were stuck there for a while. I couldn't figure out how to help you, especially against your strider.
You still put up a really good fight, even when you're hardly conscious."
I fought a strider? Was it the one that attacked me out of those weird visions?
"I'm not sure how that strider got here. It could be because of the state of the Paradox. I'd go, but... Nephi told me to stay here, and... Well, I don't want to leave this place anyway." he continued. I wanted to ask why. A breathy whimper left my mouth instead.
The little kitten Pokémon raised his head until the top of it was touching against the gravestone. Made me want to go up there and nuzzle his tummy, if there wasn't a big weird weapon in the way of it.
"I'm Sunhalo," the espurr said. "I don't like the name, so... call me Angel. Or Cruce. Maybe Cruce is better," he nodded. "My bow has the power to shatter stars, and, well, ever since I broke Nephi's Clock with the Bell, there've been side effects.
We're all born of stardust, and those objects – Clock and Bell – are the best... 'representatives' of our kind. Make no mistake, I think that's why the sun is broken. So if you'd like to consult me about that, please go ahead.
I realize I've also completely broken time in the real world... As a result of that, this place does not have time that you can perceive. It's a nonexistent concept. The only reason you and I can perceive of things the right way is, well, you have what's left of the Clock, and I'm... a strider. Those are our golden tickets.
It is my fault.
And now, I can only imagine the real world is going to freeze. I can't fix it.
I'm supposed to be a grave watcher."
"You're... Cruce." I told him. He'd already introduced himself, but I wanted him to leave it at that. I didn't need any complicated backstory. I'd just spent however long trapped in it. He was just pouring guilt out was all.
"Mm," he shook his head, letting his smile go flat. "I'm Cruce's strider. It's fine. I won't attack you. I only brought my bow out because I-... I won't attack."
"Well, l'il dude, you are a cutie, so I'll believe you. I think I remember you from those 'visions'." I said.
"Oh? What do you-..." he stuttered. Just as Aza had done before the man in the white cloak, I tucked my rear legs into my flank and I sat down, lukewarm sand cushioning me. "Do you mean, how I came to be? I am... sorry you had to see that."
"It's okay, buddy," I tossed my tail to one side. "We're alike. I dunno how I got here. At first I thought I was Laza's brother, then I thought I was Aza's brother, and now I'm... I'm not too sure who I am anymore."
"The way I see it," he chirped. "You're Molly's imaginary friend. Nasce."
"I'm... sorry? Wha-..."
"Never mind," he turned away, fully frowning, mournful. "Molly... hm...
I feel like I shouldn't be telling you this. I'm sitting on her grave – well, more specifically..."
The overly serious espurr shuffled a little bit, then when he realized he was getting nowhere, he stood up, hugging the gargantuan weapon to his fluffy chest, and leaned over a brightly colored, spiral bound notebook of sorts. It was minimally decorated with a single golden ribbon, flowing from the metal bindings. The book prolly didn't make for any better a cushion then some soft flower petals, buuut then they might'a had thorns and such. Without reaching down, he lifted the book up, one of his floppy ears going high, a light beneath its fold shining, jointing him and the book together, just as Aza's telekinetic prowess showed. The book hovered at the gravestone's side.
"I was sitting on this," he stated. "Molly's diary."
"Uh-oh. Is that a no-no?" I asked.
"Well, normally yes." he agreed with a wry grin. "She'd kick me across the floor if she saw this, but then she'd pick me up and hug me, because she loves Pokémon...
She even made a story about them based off of her imaginary friend Nasce.
They'd change all the bad people in the world...
Sad. To her, everyone was bad, except her parents, her inept brother, and her feminine cousin. She even made up a story with her cousin.
And now that cousin doesn't like to share it with anybody."
Open-mouthed, I watched the book, its hard cover facing me. It was hypnotic, seeing how plain the thing was – if she was a little girl, I ventured she would'a put more time and effort decorating it with more than a single ribbon. Then again, if she was making up stories, she probably had no time for decoration. She wanted to open that thing, write in it, and that was how she showed her love. Not the cover, but the contents.
"I've read it plenty of times," he admitted. "Even after she told me to never look in there. For what it's worth, she was right to feel that way. I miss her. That is all I can feel anymore.
It's why I'm here. That's why I'm waiting. I am her late guardian angel.
I was always..." he paused, scrunching his muzzle as he let both the journal and his ear down, the former thumping into the soft plant life. "Wary... of Topher's viewpoint of the world.
Why were they like this? Why did my family become this way?
My parents hadn't told me why. I didn't think they could, and even IF they could, I wouldn't understand.
When I found out what Topher was doing here, I remember feeling ill. Flowers made out of people? Crossblades across the world?
Well, I understand now.
I know what those flowers are for.
And I would think Aza wants to burn every last one of them."
I sighed. I knew that my brother was in over his head somewhere. If it wasn't that he wanted to change the whole world, he wanted to spite the person changing the world before him. He always was a sore loser, and based on all the Flux and all the Crossblades, I'd've thought he had already lost.
"What do you... want do to, Nasce?" he asked me. I blinked and shook my head.
"Secany, bub," I corrected him. " And me - well, I want to destroy my Crossblade. That was the plan all along!" I said. "Guessin' it's not as easy as... 'breaking my spirit', is it?"
"That would be up to your Crossblade 'others'," said Cruce. "Katalyn's one of the other members of your trio, and since she has become 'different', that's not going to be easy. It's not a terrible idea..."
"Hmm, riiight," I sulked. I would've thought human Katalyn felt the same way about all this. "I got the Naphal one on my side. She's down with the plan."
"How?" he asked, wholly surprised. "You met her?"
"'Course. Dude, she's a crazy Flux right now. Real whack stuff. Kinky, too – oof." I recalled.
"You've... 'whoopsed'." he said.
"I what? I 'whoops'ed? D-did I whoops?" I asked.
"Yes, you did, but it's not your fault. Somebody sent you on a wild goose chase. They set you up. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you ended up here, but as a result of that, you... Well, never mind. You're safe here." he explained.
Wild goose chase? What... What?! Hold on, what the heck...
"Maybe a while 'whoops' chase." he mumbled to himself. For as cute as the comment was, this espurr didn't seem anything like the Cruce I'd heard about, let alone met for myself. I tried not to let it bother me for favor of the topic.
"That flower Flux?" I stopped him out of nowhere. He should've known someone with that description. If not, well, then I 'whoopsed' again.
"Flower Flux...? Oh,'him'. He is not a Flux. Nephi felt bad for him. Something went wrong, and now he's... like that. But listen, about that – and about your Crossblade – if you met a Kat or Katalyn in the real world, then that's not her. That's not the Naphal."
"Alright, dude, you're gonna need to do some 'splainin'." I said.
"Absolutely," he obliged, leaning his giant weapon against the headstone, then plopping his tush down into the grass, legs out and all, leaning into the stone.
I pushed my rear up, walked closer, paws treading carefully in the flowers. No thorns, I thought. Turning a full three-sixty once, I let myself back down, bending hind legs back, but keeping my front legs stretched. I was practically laying over Cruce's legs, threatening to push my nose right up into his neck. Damn kid was just too cuddly. I never did fancy cuddling that much, 'till I met Rayse. Poor Sissy...
"Hello," he greeted again, at first cautious, then leaning forward 'till I could feel his breath. He didn't know what to do with me so close, so he just patted my head, hesitant. I let him have it. "I-I... don't know how to feel about this..."
"Well, don't take it for granted, dude," I warned him, playful. "Tell me about the real Naphal Kat. Whassup with that?"
"The real Naphal Kat was here all along," he said. "It involved Nephi."
"Hm," I grunted, laying my head low, taking in Cruce's odd, seaweed slash fresh grass scent. "Gonna guess that the one I know is a... strider?" I looked up a bit, catching his golden curiosity.
"That's right." he said.
"Damn, dude," I huffed. "Who's not a strider?"
"You," he chimed, pointing into one of the flops hanging from my headpiece. Always hated it when people did that. I pulled my head away and snickered at the espurr. He quickly tucked his arms in – lucky cat. Was gonna bite his chest as payback, if his big dumb head didn't get in the way. "Oh. I... sorry."
I just smirked at him.
"Well..." he carried on. "What happened with that 'flower person' isn't what happened with Kat, but it is something that Topher would do, even if Nephi was responsible.
Topher has this affinity stuffed animals. I'm unsure if that's crossed into Nephi's interests.
It could be that Nephi knew you would come and try to destroy the Crossblade in some respect, and she knew Kat well enough to stop that from ever happening, first by making the human into a monster, then by taking out the other one's brain."
I pulled my neck up. I almost opened my eyes and squinted at him in disgust, when I realized; A.) How did I even think to react that way when I was already seeing him, and B.) that was so effed up.
"She took out Kat's brain." I said to him, hoping he knew how ridiculous that sounded. He nodded shamelessly.
"Well, she took out everything, and then found a new body, took everything out then stuffed it full of flower petals, and..." Cruce swallowed. "Kat's Crossblade likes to appear around that new body now."
"What is she...?" I asked, weary. "Wait, never mind, man. I get it. She's-..."
"She is not dead, but all that is left of her is..." he bit down. "She's about as alive as these plants are."
"That's horrible," I growled. "Cruce, that's horrible, dude – why didn't you stop Nephi?! Kat's important to you!"
He just looked at me. I was no Flux, but those eyes told me a sad and pitiful story. Maybe he couldn't be there to help. Maybe he'd only heard all this. I didn't want to be mad at him, because, if I was honest, he was already pretty guilty. He took out the sun, for Arceus' sake. That, and he was a strider, so if he had to fight anybody, well, if anything went wrong, he would've turned out a little differently than Cruce, right? Strider logic? But, then again, he... was powerful enough to take out the SUN.
Those eyes said he'd given up long ago. He shook his head and closed them, then put his paws up to his face and rubbed. His head sank.
"Okay," I let up. I pushed against the flowerbed with my front paws, stretched my back out as far as I could, and stood myself up, looking down at the sad heap of white fluff. "Chin up, l'il dude. Aza wants to destroy all Crossblades, doesn't he? Cool! He must'a thought of something that I didn't. Where can I join up with him?"
I looked to my left and my right. I didn't get any clues. Next I looked at Cruce, he was watching me like I'd just said something irredeemably stupid, paws frozen under his chin.
"That wouldn't be worth it," he stammered. "And actually, that might only hasten the world's destruction, if it doesn't freeze first."
"Not the answer I was lookin' for. Besides, I'm a glaceon," I proudly said, puffing out my chest. "I can take the 'freeze', and I'm sure Aza can work something out for the folks that can't. Maybe I can! I'm just as good a researcher as him! But hey, c'mon, gimme some real directions, would ya?"
"If you have the Clock, even if it's broken, you should be able to walk along that levee there – behind this grave," he said. I looked around the big gray stone. Yeah, there was a big old winding sandy trail separating one half of the Crossblade sea from the other, and it went all the way into, I'unno, 'forever'. "But-"
"Rad enough for me," I said, gruff, ready to get to work, even if I had to do it with my eyes closed. No problem! I walked out of the grass and into the sand again, crunch after crunch taking me further away from the headstone. All the while, I looked off to the side. "You don't wanna come – I get it! But you better stay put, got it? I'm comin' back for you, you l'il poof."
"Wait," he called out to me. I kept walking. "Wait! You can't be serious. You're not really thinking of helping Aza, are you?!"
"Hey, that's my bro, and I want the Crossblades gone," I said to him. Hoped he heard it. I was getting closer to the levee. "So I'll help him, and he'll help me, yeah?"
"No-!" he cried out, breathless. I kept on, head forward, popping my neck. I was a little sore, little groggy, but I felt right and ready to get my paws dirty again, even if it might'a been for the last time. Hoped to avoid that though. I wanted to come back to my siblings, despite all my doubts. I wanted to come back to Autumnridge. I wanted to get this espurr out of this place, even if he was a strider. He belonged with us. And boy, he was really goin' at it back there – makin' some serious noise that I didn't appreciate too much. "Don't go! W-w-wait, you CAN go, but don't help Aza! Please!"
His voice grew distant. The sand became moist, the crunching of my footfalls wetter with every step. I was on the trail now. No turning back, I thought. I set out to finish this thing. I learned some valuable things that changed the game, but the winner was gonna stay the same.
"Aza's not right!" he yelled to me. "He's...!" That was it. That was all I heard, before heavy air rushed into my head and shook my senses, a tornado inside of me, tossing me and jumbling me – did I make a mistake going this way? Welp, had to commit to it now! I kept on going. It was weird and unpleasant, but I thought if I could deal with a Cross, I could handle a trippy walk on the beach. I was okay. I was in the right. Nothing was going to stop me now.
...I had to tell myself that, though. It shouldn't have been that way. Telling myself that I was in the right meant I needed reassurance, and that was a ball and chain at my ankle.
It was a bit late for that, Secany.
The white clouds became fuzzy, like I was walking into... static?
This was it, then. The more they parted, the higher I looked, and the more static broke through the fog. The sand was becoming speckled with black dots, then black swathes of land – so dark, in fact, that I thought stepping on them was a mistake. No; I kept pushing forward, until the white sand was no more, the ceiling of the world was made of spastic dots of static, that distant white noise growing louder, strange green neon flow worming through the otherworldly black floor – it all welcomed me back to an impossible world.
Aza, when we meet up, I'll help you win this game. Then, you're gonna sit down and answer to your 'Champions'.
…
(Chevron: Mutant Meowstic)
