A fingernail moon floats in the dark clouds. Quiet snoring punctuates the stillness of night. Cynthia is wide awake though. She hovers closer to Cyrus, who's staring straight ahead with a furrowed brow.

"You cold?" she says. No response until she flicks his ear, in which he flashes an annoyed scowl. "Just that vest can't be warm."

He shows her the insulated padding under his sleeve. "I strive for both warmth and bulk."

"Are you nervous?"

"Are you?"

"A little bit," she admits. Her heart is pounding in her skull. "Normally I'd charge head-in, but this is different. Once we set foot up there…"

Cyrus absorbs that implication in silence. He glances over his shoulder. Mars is snoring away while Saturn plugs his ears. Jupiter is talking to Looker and Rowan in hushed whispers. The former Grunts are arguing over B-2 ginormous asscheeks. To the side, Volkner and Flint are piled on each other, knocked out cold.

Up ahead, Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf are engaged in telepathic chatter. Occasionally moonlight will catch in their crimson jewels, sending slants of red over Togekiss's white feathers.

Cyrus pulls out those photos again. He traces the inscription of his Red Sunstone with a trembling finger.

Cynthia squeezes his hand. A silent affirmation. Cyrus returns a faint yet grateful smile.

A dark mist hangs over the gates of Mt. Coronet. The only source of light comes not from the moon but from the Pokemons' illuminations. Rotom and Electivire produce a sphere of light that barely scratches the thick, foggy darkness.

"The mountain radiates an odd energy," Uxie mutters. "It is reacting to the distortion of time."

Flint yelps. Pockets of frozen time are spilling up from a black, glassy lake. The cursed water was very close to grabbing his shoe.

With that, the party hurries into Mt. Coronet, where the chilled air prickles with moisture. Icy water trickles down cracks in the cavern walls like spider webs.

"What's wrong, Jupiter?" Looker says.

"I thought…" She frowns. "Nothing. Must've been nerves."

"I saw we blow up this place," Mars says.

"And damage a historical site?" Rowan cries. "Many Trainers have traversed this path onto Snowpoint City!"

Volkner shuts everyone up. "Hey. Am I going crazy, or was the entrance just behind us?"

Behind them is a waterfall instead of the entrance they had just set foot through mere seconds ago. All remnants of footprints have been wiped clean too.

"Well. Mt. Coronet is finally alive," Mesprit says grimly.

"Roll call," Cynthia says. "Remember the person in front and behind you—"

"Where's Saturn?" Cyrus says. Rotom's light reflects the alarm in his eyes. "Saturn?"

R-8 spins around. "B-2? Tom?"

"Professor Rowan?" Looker whispers.

Cyrus nabs Cynthia's sleeve just as a great rumbling shakes the mountain. Pebbles rain down like hail. A crackling sound. The world jerks to the side…

Cynthia pushes Cyrus down before a boulder cleaves his skull in half. They dive for cover. When the earthquake stops, they are alone in a dimly lit portion of cave.

"Jupiter!" Cyrus yells. "Saturn! Mars!" Muted echoes respond. After clawing at the solid boulders in vain, he whirls back with an expression that pulls at Cynthia's heart.

"It's okay," she says quietly. "They have Pokemon. They'll be all right."

Something moves under the debris. Cyrus gasps. "That's Volkner's Electron!" He yanks the Electivire out and has Rotom interrogate it thoroughly. "It says… that everyone just… disappeared." A pause. "But it can sense vibrations deep in the heart of Mt. Coronet."

"Cy!"

Azelf latches onto Cyrus's face. Its golden eyes are wet with unshed tears. "I-I tried to initiate telepathy with my siblings, but they won't respond! I… ah… ahhh..."

Cynthia gently peels Azelf off. "It's all right," she hums. "We'll find everyone. Hopefully."

The gears are audibly cranking in Cyrus's head. He's pacing around and even up the walls while an amused Electivire copies his signature pose. "There must be a way to signal everyone to one place… What if… no, that won't… damage the diverse ecosystem of the… maybe…"

Azelf hiccups. "Heehee… Electivire thinks you are a very funny human. You remind him of his Trainer."

"Cyrus, you're making me dizzy. Get down."

The layout changes again; now they're standing near a ledge overlooking a very dangerous fall.

"Aha! Cynthia, may I pluck Togekiss's feather?" She lets him, and he easily whittles it down to a white quill pen. "Mark the wall so they know to meet us in the center. With the mountain randomly spitting us out in different locations, they're bound to encounter our message eventually…"

Cynthia grabs his arm before he strays too far. "You're staying close to me."

"Are you positive that we've been here?"

Mars stops. She places her palms on the cold, hard earth. "No. I always thought the rule to mazes is to stick to the right wall."

Rowan scratches his moustache thoughtfully. "Was it not the other way around?"

"You're both wrong." Volkner yawns. "Applying algorithms to this maze won't be effective. I've surveyed the situation, and this area does not fit the typical mold of a well-defined nor dead-end maze."

The group stares at him. R-8 bends down to pet a blank-faced Tangrowth, the slimy, cool texture of its vines calming her racing nerves. B-2's Beautifly lay still in her arms, crippled from the earlier rockslide.

"What time is it?" she whispers. Rowan glances sadly at his broken wristwatch.

Mars claps her hands. "I think it's time to take action." She waltzes to a jutting portion of rock, winds her arm, and throws her fist forward.

BAM!

Volkner's jaw drops. He glances at R-8, who appears unfazed as the petite younger woman takes down boulder after boulder that are more than 10 times her height.

"Do I… Tch, I didn't bring any C4." Mars pouts. "Wait, but that would trigger more explosions within the mountain… Might hurt someone…"

"Allow me." Rowan rolls up his sleeves. He pats a chunk of iron ore, inhales deeply, and rams a screaming fist into the barrier.

BOOM!

R-8's eyeballs bulge out her skull. Volkner cackles. "Haha! He Falcon Punched the shit out of that rock!"

Mars and Rowan continue Rock Smashing their way while Volkner, R-8, and a stunned Tangrowth gawk on. The rooms are transforming, but those two show no signs of letting up.

"Wait!" R-8 yells. "Stop hitting! There, on the wall!"

Volkner shines his belt-flashlight to the crevice. Black and white feathers on the ground below a message written in neat print.

"Meet at the center. C. C."

A smirk makes its way to his face. "This is Cyrus's for sure. Smart move, doofus."

"The center," Rowan echoes, rubbing his swollen knuckles with his handkerchief. "Which direction are we facing?"

Volkner paces around for a bit. "Aha!" He plops down, and from his pockets he produces a refrigerator magnet, a sewing needle, and a cork. At his command Tangrowth fashions a bowl out of clay, which it fills partially with water. Rowan passes sweets around while Volkner does his stuff.

Mars chomps on her strawberry baumkuchen. "What are you doing?"

"Magic." Volkner smirks. "I kid, this is science. Your Master Cyrus never showed you how a compass works?" And he launches into a passionate, monotone lecture about magnetic fields and poles. R-8 rifles through Rowan's snack pack while Mars bobs her head with ambiguous interest.

"Anyhow," Volkner says. "Mt. Coronet gives off its own gravitational field. We keep going north, which is this way..." He trails off, then sighs. "Where is that clown when you need him?"

"Ow!"

"Oops. Sorry…"

"Watch where you step, you second-rate party excuse!"

B-2 holds up his hands. "Let's not fight right now. We're all friends here, right? Cyrus's friend is our friend, right? Saturn?"

Saturn grumbles under his breath. B-2 turns back to a slightly hurt Flint. "Sorry. He had a bad run-in with clowns."

"Oh."

"Yup."

The trio continue down a narrow walkway. As soon as a pebble touches the ground, the scenery shifts from a dark cavern to an open chamber with glowing ores.

"I thought I felt the heartbeat of the mountain," Flint mumbles.

"Sorry," B-2 grunts. "That was me."

Purugly turns a condescending eye towards the two men. It sniffs at the police hat-wearing Croagunk, who chuckles weakly and hides behind Flint's leg.

"My Toxicroak is much mightier than that pipsqueak," Saturn huffs. Purugly meows. "I know, he looks like a walking fried potato stick with catsup on the tip."

Flint's ears glow red. "Dude, is that really Cyrus's kid—" B-2 smacks his mouth with a hand.

"Of course not," the latter whispers. "But we don't bring up the past around Saturn. The last time he accidentally called Cyrus his dad…" Life momentarily fades from his eyes. "W-We don't talk about the Dark Days of Humanity."

Flint reluctantly lets it go. "But like, why is he so scared of clowns? They're funny! I got one for Buck's party, and he was literally dying from laughter!"

Saturn scowls. "Was he crying?"

"No. W-Well, there were tears…"

"Hmph. Then I hope you do reconsider your usage of the term 'dying from laughter.'"

Flint cannot believe that this runt is actually a high-level executive. B-2 senses his disbelief and playfully slings an arm over his shoulder. "Hey, have you I ever told you how my ass got swollen like this?"

"Y-You mean that's not normal?!"

"Of course not! I was minding my own Grunt business you know, stealing Pokemon with my adorable Wurmple… and some brat bit my ass! I wanted to stuff his stupid red scarf into his stupid grin—"

"Dude, chillax! Dia actually did that?!"

"Diamond, you mean? That chubby kid won't hurt a fly! No, it was that other one… the crazy, rambunctious one with the Piplup…"

As B-2 seethes, Saturn's eyes narrow. "You told us you were escaping the police on a stolen helicopter when they shot you down and you parachuted out and landed on your ass in the cornfield."

B-2's face goes very, very red. Flint stifles his laughter. "S-So who were you before you became a Grunt?"

"Broker."

Flint stops laughing. "No fucking way."

"Yes fucking way. Ever heard of Hearthome Mutual, one the biggest, most exclusive hedge funds in Sinnoh? You're looking at the former manager."

Then it clicks. "Y-You're T—"

B-2's face grows stormy for a second, but then he's back to his lopsided grin. "Money can't buy happiness, right?"

Flint is taken aback by the sudden change of tone. "T-True… Cynthia impulse-purchased a private villa in Unova. She already has a lot of condos hereOH BUCK WATCH OUT!"

The bridge supporting Saturn's weight gives away without warning. Flint dives forward, grabbing Saturn by his weird cat-ear hair (they're… solid?!). B-2 hauls both of them back to safety.

"You okay Bu—Saturn?" Flint yells. The younger man stares at him. Then he jerks his head away with a heated "Thanks I guess."

B-2 sighs loudly. "Thank Arceus no one's dead… Hey. Saturn, what are you sitting on?"

"Meet us in the center. C. C."

Flint leaps for joy. "WE FOUND THEM! But… where is the center?"

"Mreow." Purugly slaps the humans' calves. It trudges into the darkness with its head up, chest puffed. The men exchange a glance before following the frisky feline.

The flames on Magmortar's head slices through the darkness of the tunnels. Still, Jupiter has to squint into the wisps of rising fog for any surprise drops and turns.

Looker squeaks. She shushes him. "S-Spider," he whimpers.

"Be careful not to step on a Geodude," she says. "They self-destruct."

"N-Nice to know."

They inch carefully along a perilous ledge overlooking a bed of frothy water. Looker timidly hops on Jupiter's back when they reach scalable walls.

"You're very…" Looker has to search carefully for the next word. "Muscular." She's carrying both him and Magmortar.

"Thanks," she says sourly. "You're a plastic straw."

They reach the top of a plateau with a seemingly shallow lake. Looker proudly displays his International Police Equipment No. 72: Water Jet Propeller. As usual, it breaks down on him. He can taste Jupiter's irritation as she ferries him across the deep lake.

"So," he says when they're back on solid ground. "You were Cyrus's second hand?"

"I'm the only adult in the circus," she says without turning back.

Looker moves hurries to match her ridiculous pace. "Y-You knew what his plans were, right? Why didn't you stop him before—"

"Shut up."

"Y-Yes, ma'am—"

Jupiter shoves her palm over his mouth. Her eyes are narrowed, her shoulders tensed. She drags him and Magmortar into a crevice in the wall. It's a tight fit unfortunately, and the detective ends up smooshed between Magmortar's beak and Jupiter's ample bosom.

"Did you hear that?" she whispers, her lavender-scented breath wafting down his neck.

"W-What?"

"Footsteps."

They listen. Plick plick. Plop plop.

"Is someone following us?" she says half to herself.

"I-I don't think that's possible," stammers Looker. "They'd have to use Rock Climb, Strength, and Rock Smash all at once. I doubt a sensible Trainer would shove those distasteful HMs down their Pokemon's throat."

Jupiter doesn't seem convinced. The layout transitions into a tomb of intricate paintings of the early people of Sinnoh.

Looker slumps down. His legs hurt. His throat is parched. His pride is shot. He timidly offers Jupiter a triangular juice pouch, which to his relief she accepts.

"How many flavors are there?" she says.

"Um… cherry, grape, melon, citrus... 56 flavors. I like banana the best."

Jupiter snorts. "What's your real name, Detective Banana?"

"What's yours?"

"Jane." That sounds… really familiar. She stares at him expectantly.

Looker nervously clears his throat. "Can't reveal my true name, ma'am. Part of the contract."

She doesn't look the least surprised. "Do you have a family, Looker?"

"Um… I have my Croagunk. Why?"

Jupiter crosses her arms, although it appears more like a protective gesture. "They don't know who 'Jane' is." He doesn't need specification as to who "they" are. She only speaks of "them" with tenderness. "I've spent the last decade under 'Jupiter.' I think I'm on the verge of an identity crisis."

"They're the same person though."

"No, they're not."

A tremble passes through the tomb. Looker stands. "Well, I'll call you whatever you want to be called, be it Jane or Jupiter. That's a promise from a proud agent of Interpol!"

Jupiter blinks. Then her eyebrows twitch, and she laughs. It's a powerful, musical sound that rattles in his skull.

Suddenly, she shoves him down mere nanoseconds before a thundering sonic boom punctures the air. THUMP. Something falls from the mural.

Groaning, Uxie peels itself off the ground. It squints at the two wide-eyed humans and slack-jawed Magmortar. And it immediately rightens and begins jabbing at the painting in high-pitched cries.

"What is it saying?" Looker whispers.

"Do I look like I speak Pokemon?" Jupiter huffs.

Uxie screams at Magmortar, who returns a sleepy smile. The former facepalms. It zooms around the tomb like a ricocheting bullet, feeling every inch of wall, shuddering at every drop in air pressure.

Jupiter grabs everyone close when the room changes again. What used to be dry earth are now muddy puddles. A sharp, briny breeze floats in through the walls. A message on a rock awaits them at the end of a flooded path.

"We went ahead into Brine Cave. C.C."

Uxie eagerly prods the humans forward. Jupiter glances over her shoulder. Something is definitely out there… and her brain won't let this uncanny feeling go.

Mesprit is having the time of her life drifting about these morphing labyrinthine tunnels. After hours (minutes? Seconds?) of wandering around, she recognizes her current location as Brine Cave, the antechamber to the center of Mt. Coronet.

"Holy Lopunny! That's Mes—"

Purugly slaps Flint's hand away. "Looky only, no touchy," she hisses. Turning to Mesprit, she says, "Are you all right? Where are you siblings?"

"I don't know. We got separated during that rockalanche… And the mountain's magnetism has been messing with my telepathy."

"Look! Cyrus was here! He's up ahead!"

Mesprit follows the party down the windy tunnel. She still can't shake that landslide out of her mind. Maybe Uxie's influence is rubbing off on her, but there was something too… deliberate to call that an accident.

On the count of three, Mars and Rowan ram their fists into the boulder. BOOM! BOOM! Barriers explode, and the scent of sea foam bursts into the faces. Volkner confirms that they're facing north.

"Achoo!"

"MARS?!"

And there, behind the patchy kelp, is Saturn's party. And Jupiter. The former Team Galactic members quickly reconvene. Flint tackles his best friend.

"What a touching reunion," Rowan says from the sidelines.

"Where's Electron?" Volkner says.

"Probably with—Fire Duck!" Flint throws his arms up for his Magmortar.

Looker sniffs loudly into his coat. "T-This is beautiful…"

Uxie storms up to Mesprit. There is a red indention on the former's forehead. "You will not believe how inconvenient it is for humans not to understand you!" the elder sibling groans.

"It's always been like that. You just got too comfortable." Then Mesprit's face darkens. "Uxie, that rockslide…"

"Was no accident, I know."

"Do you think it was Dialga's doing? For him to directly exert his powers from up there…"

Uxie's brows furrow. It could easily be his overactive imagination, but he swore he heard a faint "click." A foreign, frightful sound.

"It could be a trap," Mesprit mutters.

"That… is a possibility."

"I have the feeling we are being watched."

The Guardian of Knowledge glances back into the churning darkness. "Then we must locate Azelf and those two before it does."