Lucian spots Cynthia by her lonesome in the League Garden.

"Cynthia," he says. "Any new developments?"

Cynthia chugs her Lemonade before turning to meet his gaze. She can't hold her alcohol, so this fizzy sweet drink is the next best thing. "Charon's still out there. Bastard's hiding in plain sight."

"Not him." Lucian glances around before leaning in. "Did you find any new clues surrounding Cyrus's whereabouts?"

Cynthia slowly sets the can down. She swivels her body to face him. "The search was called off, remember? No point expending resources on a closed case…" Then her voice drops. "Why? I thought you said you could care less."

"Why would you…" Lucian's mouth suddenly feels very dry. "No, I didn't mean that exactly. I just… I think…" He rolls the words around his tongue before taking a deep breath. "I remembered. In Canalave, I gave him…"

But the words refuse to come out. After a short pause, Cynthia awkwardly pats him on the shoulder. "I'm going to follow up on Looker's report. Let me know if you find something on your end, okay?"

"All right…" Lucian stares at the Champion's retreating back. He pulls that outdated plastic card from his pocket and glares at the faded letters. A dry wind blows by, a stark contrast to the cold, saline breeze of the night they first met.

"How can someone change so much?" he mutters.

"She's sleeping again?"

Garchomp hushes the exasperated bird. "Cynthia's tired. Let's go outside."

The living room is quiet. Grandma is chatting with the older folks outside Celestic Ruins. Her Chingling glances up from iced bottles of Moomoo Milk. "Gooood afternoon, li li! Has Cynthia still not waken up yet? She'll miss dinner!"

"Marsies will miss dinner too if she keeps moping around like this." The large cat shuffles into the room. Behind her is the slouching toxic frog. "Nyaaa, I knew it was Moomoo Milk! Come to mama!"

"What's gotten into everyone?" Togekiss murmurs. "Where is the usual energy? I understand there is a national threat happening, but…"

"Li li, I played a happy tune, but no one smiled…"

Toxicroak helps himself to an iced bottle. "Saturn hasn't gotten out of bed since yesterday, meh heh heh… Keeps on staring at the picture he found…"

Garchomp folds her wings. "We can't keep sitting around while Charon's on the loose! Us Pokemon also owe it to Uxie to search for a way to stop this Paralysis!"

Purugly cracks open an eye. "Yes, but what exactly is the Relic Key? Has anyone seen it? Does anyone even know what it is?"

"N-No… but still, we can't waste time! Togekiss, Purugly, Toxicroak, let's find some clues! I'm sure someone is bound to know something if we ask around!"

Toxicroak groans. "Meh heh… you mean I have to walk in this weather? Meh heh heh… Aw."

"Good luck, li li!" Chingling waves the party out. "Come home before dusk!"

It's a humid day outside. The sun is hidden behind a layer of haze.

Toxicroak sighs loudly. "My feet hurt, meh… My arms hurt…"

Purguly slaps him. "Get your lazy ass into gear!"

"Meh heh… That's what Chief Skuntank would say… I miss him and Tangrowth…"

As the two argue, Garchomp unrolls her Wonder Map. "The Pokemon around Celestic Town have only heard rumors of this Relic Key. Some say it exists, some say it doesn't."

"That's great. It might be alive, it might not." Togekiss points to the distance. "Let's try knocking on old Noctowl's tree. Maybe he's awake now."

After much asking around, the party collapses under the shade. They've gone as far as Lush Prairie, but one of the Pokemon had a definite answer. Back to square one.

"I heard you were looking for something, rat?"

Garchomp gasps. "A Raticate? It's rare to see one around here. Have you heard of this thing called the Relic Key?"

Raticate chews thoughtfully on her lips. "Hmm… I've seen metal keys and electronic locks! Does that help?"

"We honestly don't know what it looks like, meh heh heh," says Toxicroak.

"That's a shame, rat…" Then Raticate's eyes widen. "You should ask the town elder, Torkoal! Legends say he lived for thousands of years, so if anyone knows anything about old stuff, it's him!"

"Where is he?" says Purugly.

"It's quite far from Celestic Town, but I can take you there, rat! Follow me!"

A geyser of cold water shoots into Garchomp's face. She retaliates with a stream of meteors.

"Woah!" cries Raticate. "It's just a Surskit! You're going to blast Waterfall Cave apart!"

Finally, after navigating through a maze of crystals and waterfalls, the mystery dungeon opens up to blinding sunlight. The smell of hot dirt and sulfur greets the party as they make their way down slippery grounds.

Raticate opens her claws. "Behold, rat! The Hot Spring!"

"Yo, Raticate!"

"Hi Teddiursa! Good to see you too, Ursaring!"

A Vigoroth ambles to the party. "We have newcomers!" His voice is the loudest thing to ever meet Garchomp's eardrums.

"They want to see the town elder, rat," Raticate explains. "You mind taking them over, Veg? I'm going to take a bath."

"Sure thing!" Vigoroth swings his damp arms over Garchomp and Togekiss. The two cringe at the smell. "This way, ladies!"

Toxicroak dives into the water before anyone can stop him. Purugly tells the other two to go on ahead while she slaps some sense into her friend.

"Welcome," says Torkoal. With a deep inhale, steam wafts through the hot spots in his shell. "You seek my wisdom?"

Garchomp gives a deep nod. "We're searching for the Relic Key. Do you know what it looks like?"

"Ah… Uxie mentioned something about that. Unfortunately, his descriptions always tended to be vague… You'd think a Guardian of Knowledge would…" The tortoise lapses into a silence.

"Toxicroak, wake up!"

"Eeek omigosh she's slapping him around!"

"Hey hey stop fighting in the Hot Spring! Yowch!"

Torkoal stirs from his thoughts. "The Key is proof!"

"Proof," Togekiss echoes with a hint of exasperation. The old tortoise falls back to his thoughts. He could be dozing off right now for all they know.

"The proof… bears an inscription of a certain pattern," Torkoal murmurs. "It's difficult to describe, but I can tell you it is intricate and odd. Peculiar. The kind of pattern you rarely see."

Togekiss sighs quietly. "Well… that was helpful. I guess we can narrow our search down to rare and strange patterns. That could be anything though…"

But an idea had sneaked into Garchomp's mind. A passing whim, yet… "Torkoal, what about this?" She traces the pattern into the dirt: A compass with wings in each cardinal direction.

Torkoal finally stirs from sleep. "Ho ho HO! Why, this is the Marker of Time! Where did you see this, young dragon?"

Chills are racing down the land dragon's back. Togekiss shoots her a friend a strange look. "T-Thank you, Torkoal. We have to leave. Now."

"Ho ho ho! At least soak your exhaustion away in the Hot Spring!'

"Trust me, I wish we had time for that. Purugly, Toxicroak, let's go! We need to bring Cynthia back to Uxie!"

Raticate watches the party leave. "Looks like they got what they wanted, rat." She sinks back into the steamy water. Vigoroth drapes an arm over her shoulders and closes his eyes.

A peaceful silence settles over the springs.

"Oh?" Torkoal smiles. "Welcome back, youngsters! How goes your search for the Gracidea flower?"

Gyarados bows. "WE FOUND THEM AT SKY PEAK, JUST LIKE YOU SAID, ELDER TORKOAL."

Raticate leaps up. "You're safe, rat! I haven't seen you two since that dark and stormy night! How's your Trainer?" That, and their faces fall. Torkoal senses the drop in temperature, and he quickly employs more steam to warm the place.

"H-He's no longer our…" Weavile clears his throat. "W-Well, we, uh, decided ta give the place a little color. Our last show of gratitude before we close the cocoon."

"What are you talking about, rat? Where's Crobat and Honchkrow?"

"BACK AT THE MANOR, ARRANGING THE GRACIDEA FLOWERS," is Gyarados's heavy reply. "RATICATE, DO YOU MIND WAITING HERE? I WANT TO BRING EVERYONE TOGETHER FOR ONE LAST TIME BEFORE WE GO OUR SEPARATE WAYS."

Time usually travels like water down a cliff, a big stream eventually spreading into rivulets. That's not how it works in Crystal Cave. What feels like two passing seconds could be one century backwards from the present moment.

He had long given up counting. The scenery of Crystal Cave appears to always be changing, but the deafening silence remains constant.

"There are you, Cyrus." One sound never fails to register in his skull; after all, telepathy does not require functioning eardrums.

A cold wind escapes from the world beyond the cavern entrance, sneaking into his prison of crystals. The breeze scrapes against his cheek. Noon, perhaps? Wasn't I on the other side? Both entering and leaving this forsaken place… when was that?

"Do you wish to go back?" says Mesprit. "Do you miss how warmth feels against your skin? Do you miss what you've left behind in the world of the living?"

The light is much too bright. A dark spirit like him has no place where all is warm and bright. So Cyrus turns away. Mesprit moves aside for him to drag his torso back to Crystal Lake.

The Time Gear sits in the middle of the deepest depths, its green luminescence rippling down silent waves.

Mesprit comes just as Cyrus is about to throw himself into the lake. The results would be the same: he'd just wash back up to the surface.

The Pokemon's reflection is clear and radiant. The thing beside Mesprit is distorted and faded. Unrecognizable. Black holes where there used to be blue. Lips sewn shut by a cruel, masterful hand. There's no point in undoing the stitches.

Cyrus feels Mesprit's heavy gaze pressing against his neck. Why are you protecting me? Aren't you angry that I stole the Time Gear?

"Why did you take that Time Gear?"

Because I… I… I hated the world.

A soft paw lays on his burning forehead. "That's what you've trained yourself to believe, but your heart tells a different story: You wished to fix the world. To remove all its ills and evils caused by the very things I embody.

"But that's not the full truth, is it? It's not just the world that needs fixing: It's you. At the root of your twisted, pitiful dream was the desire to fix yourself."

Cyrus stares at Mesprit. It brings his trembling hand to its cheek. "You're right, white lies shouldn't hurt… if used sparingly. You've built your entire life around seemingly harmless little lies. That's why those who have saved you from yourself turned back to ultimately destroy you. You deeply resent them… but you also feel like you deserved it, for deceiving them for so long."

The weight of the truth crawls down his back. What a terrible feeling. Who would want to feel this way?

Mesprit gives a faint smile. "I'm not mad at you for taking the Time Gear. The destruction of time had long begun since the collapse of Temporal Tower. It's not your fault." The Pokemon tilts his chin up. "Look on the bright side, Cyrus. You brought our plight to light in the human world. Without you, the humans would've never take this issue seriously."

Cyrus frowns. He vaguely remembers something about Temporal Tower and the Paralysis, but where exactly lies that source memory, he can't say. Someone told him? The past—his past—is growing fuzzier for each second of confinement here.

Is this the afterlife? Purgatory? Are you the jailor tasked to monitor me as I repent for my sins?

Mesprit looks quite taken aback. "W-What brought that on? Ahem. This sacred place is by no means a prison, Cyrus." His frown deepens. The Pokemon cringes. "W-Well, although it is a great sin to have taken one's own life, the circumstances surrounding your demise was… unjust. Your spirit cannot cross over until all lingering regrets are absolved."

Regrets, huh? Despite the blood trickling down his eye sockets, Cyrus finds himself snickering. Then I'll be here until I rot. Perhaps I'll become a Yamask, doomed to wander the earth, cradling a shell of my former face.

Mesprit smacks him with a tail. "Are all humans this depressing, or is it just you?" Cyrus responds with a weak smirk. He stays still as Mesprit hovers closer, as it rests its head against his chest.

What do you hear, Mesprit? Is my heart still beating?

"Your heart stopped a long time ago, Cyrus, yet its cries still linger… It is still weeping." He watches Mesprit circle around the Time Gear before returning to his side. "It's also possible that your spirit will crumble into dust. You'll cease to exist forever. Your name, your memories never carrying over to the next vassal. I don't want—I-I mean…"

Mesprit smacks a tail against its face. "L-Look, if you stay here until then, I promise I'll take good care of you! Even a deity such as I… ah, forget it. It's been so lonely and boring here! Arceus can't just stick someone in this smelly cave and make her watch over a relic for millennia!"

After the initial surprise wears off, Cyrus scoffs. If my company means that much to you...

"Really? You'll stay?" Mesprit cartwheels into the air. "Yay! Hah, my stupid brothers will be sooooo jealous once they find out I have a human companion!"