In an impressively short period of time, the harlemin had spread the word of my instruction and gathered before me. Now they were all sitting down and gazing at me intently, eager to hear what I had to say. A pang of nervousness coursed through me as I stood high on a rock, but it wasn't because there were so many eyes on me.

Speak carefully, I thought. Very carefully.

I opened my mouth to talk, but someone else beat me to it. "Pink?" asked the red, who was suddenly beside the rock. "What's going on here?"

"I have some wisdom I'd like to share with them," I answered. "Would you care to listen as well?"

The red gave me a confused look, then shrugged. "Sure."

He walked away and joined the deserters at the back of the crowd. He and the blue briefly exchanged some words that I couldn't hear, but afterwards they remained silent. Since it seemed that no one was going to interrupt again, I began with my story. "I'm going to tell you all a tale. A tale called, 'The Miracle of Unity.'"

"What's a miracle?" asked an orange.

"You'll know by the end of the story." Provided I told it right, that is. "In the past, there were two Onions. One of them was… green. And the other was brown. Each one had its own kind of pikmin with a matching color."

The harlemin murmured amongst each other, but quickly quieted down. Seeing that I still had their attention, I continued. "Green pikmin had the ability to shoot a sticky material called goo, while brown pikmin had unrivaled digging powers."

The harlemin raised their stems with interest. It occurred to me just then that the reality of different pikmin having different abilities was largely unknown to them, but that topic would have to wait until later. "For a long time, the pikmin lived separately but harmoniously, wandering the same grounds as they collected food for their Onions. The land was rich and pellets were plentiful, but it did not stay this way forever. Eventually, there came a famine—a time when food was rare."

A few of the harlemin gave concerned expressions. "Are we in a famine right now?" asked a black.

"No. The pellets we harvested today will be replaced, and there are other food sources that'll you'll soon discover."

The harlemin looked relieved by this information, but the pikmin in my group did not. By now they had figured out what I was trying to do, and judging by their faces, they were concerned about how I would handle it from here. A cold doubt began to creep in, but I had to press through it. "Anyway—once the famine set in, the pikmin had great difficultly finding enough food. It would have been easier if there had only been one Onion, but since there were two, their pikmin were always competing with each other. Many times the greens searched for pellets only to find that they had already been taken by the browns, and many other times the browns found themselves in the same situation. After many day- err, after a long period of struggle, the pikmin decided that something needed to change."

I had to be careful not to say "days." The harlemin hadn't even finished their first, so that description would've been confusing to them. "Unfortunately, their decision wasn't a pleasant one. Since there wasn't enough food for everyone, they felt they had no choice but to fight over it. And fight they did."

There was a little stir among the crowd. "Fight?" asked a black. "Fight how?"

"With words?" asked another black.

A sigh left my mouth. I had hoped that they wouldn't ask me about that, but since they had, I could not bring myself to downplay it. "You know what you did to bring down those Pellet Flowers? That is what the greens and browns did to each other."

An unsettled silence fell upon the crowd, their faces tainted with shock and fright. I noticed the red glaring at me, but I chose to ignore it. "The fights were terrible, and pikmin on both sides suffered tremendously. But they kept fighting anyway, for how else would they save their Onions?"

"How else would they have saved their Onions?" asked an orange. I didn't want to explain what a rhetorical question was, so instead I rolled with the interruption. "Indeed, how else would they have done so? The greens and browns didn't know the answer, and so the fighting—the war—seemed like it would go on forever, with neither side winning nor losing. The pikmin grew exhausted, so one day, they decided to settle their fight once and for all."

The harlemin stared wide-eyed. I was glad they were invested, because the most important part was coming up. "Both sides gathered all their members and attacked each other at once, pouring the last of their energy into their final battle. It was the most terrible fight of all, and before long, it was over."

"Who won?" asked an orange.

"Nobody," I said flatly. "Neither side won the fight. All the pikmin lay still upon the ground, having no strength left. The Onions looked upon them with pity and sorrow, and were sorry that the two colors had ever met to begin with. Nothing had been resolved and the situation seemed hopeless, but then something spectacular happened. High above, there was a bright twinkle in the sky. This twinkle lowered itself to the ground, and as it did, it took the shape of a shiny-gray pikmin. The Silver Pikmin."

The harlemin lifted their stems expectantly. The last few parts of the story had left them morose, but now I was seeing a glimmer of hope in their eyes.

"She floated over the fallen pikmin and bathed them in her bright, sparkling light. Instantly they all rose, their strength having been restored and their pain having been healed. As one, they lifted their heads and gazed upon the Silver Pikmin's beauty. Fools, she said to them all. I've been watching you from afar. Waging a war on your own kind—foolish! Pikmin were never meant to fight each other. You hardly deserved my healing power.

"The greens and browns lowered their stems, ashamed by the Silver Pikmin's words. They pleaded that they didn't know what else to do, and begged the Silver to show them another way. Her response?"

The harlemin leaned forward with quivering stems. After a deliberate pause, I went on. "With gleaming eyes, the Silver said, If you wish to survive, you must learn to depend on one another. The true path to success is not to conquer, but to combine. Turn away from the path of ruin, and choose the path of unity.

"With those words, the Silver Pikmin disappeared into a flash of light. From then on, the greens and the browns never again fought each other. Instead, they took the Silver's advice and learned to combine their abilities. Using their digging powers, the browns would sometimes uncover pellets hidden deep underground, but would be unable to carry them back to the surface. The greens, however, could use strings of goo to lift them out. Since neither pikmin would've been able to secure these pellets by themselves, they took turns carrying them to their Onions.

"This wasn't the only way, of course. Whenever something was out of reach, the browns would collect large amounts of dirt while the greens would goo it together to make a pile. When it was finished, they would climb it to reach whatever it was they wanted. And that was only the beginning. Through their clever teamwork, they harvested larger amounts of food than they thought possible, and soon it was almost as if there was never a famine to begin with. Eventually times became good again, and with their newfound unity, the greens and browns lived numerously and prosperously. The end."

I expected them to cheer, but instead a very long silence followed. Almost reluctantly, a black asked, "Did all of that really happen?"

"Well… Hmm…" I thought for a moment. Obviously I couldn't tell them that the story was based on true events, because then they'd want to know what those events were. So instead, I opted for a different approach. "Look, whether or not a story actually happened doesn't matter. What matters is what you learn from it. So tell me, what did you learn?"

The black paused, then said, "Pikmin are weak when they're alone, but strong when they're together."

"A pikmin should not fight another pikmin," said an orange.

"Our differences make us stronger," said another orange. "And that is a miracle."

My stem straightened when I heard this. At first I simply stood surprised, but then a grin spread across my face. "Yes. You've learned well," I said warmly. "I want you all to remember this story, and I want you all to remember the power of unity. There is strength in numbers, but there is even more strength in diversity. This knowledge will serve you greatly."

"We won't forget!" said a black. "And we'll tell this story to every new pikmin!"

"Yes! Everyone will know!" said another black.

I nodded. "Good. I see a bright future ahead of you."

As the harlemin chatted amongst themselves, I flew off the rock and to my own group. They seemed fairly impressed by what I had done. "You know, that was surprisingly tactful," said the male yellow. He then whispered, "Much better than the blue would've handled it."

"Oh, absolutely," I said, remembering the day he brought me straight to the war.

"Yeah, that was pretty good," said the red. "A lot of parts felt improvised, though."

"Well… You're not wrong," I admitted.

"Speaking of improvising," said the female yellow, "did you really have to do this on day one? Couldn't you have waited until they matured a bit first?"

"I did consider that, Yellow, but every pikmin is at its most impressionable when it's first plucked. So many oranges and blacks were born into a culture of war, so I wanted the new generation to be born into a culture of unity. And what better day to instill that than on day one?"

She shrugged. "Fair point. The story could've been worked on a little longer, though."

"Oh, shut it."

"Sooooo are we finished here?" asked the white. "Because it looks like we've done everything we could for them."

"Oh, uh… Yeah," I muttered. "I guess we did what we came here to do."

"Not so fast!" said the red. "They still need to learn how to fight beasts."

My stem perked. All that talk about fighting and that hadn't even crossed my mind.

"That's going to take a long time," said the blue. "Think about how many different kinds of beasts there are around here."

"We don't have to teach them about every kind," said the red. "Just the common kinds. They should be at least somewhat prepared, right?"

"I'm gonna have to side with Red on this one," I said. "We've faced many threats, and we've pioneered unique ways of dealing with them. That makes us the perfect teachers. We can't pass this up."

The blue said nothing, so I continued. "If we leave them to figure it out themselves, many of them will die. I can't in good faith let that happen, and I know for a fact that you can't either."

The blue glared. "Well, since you know me so well apparently, I suppose we might as well get started."

I narrowed my eyes at him. Why was he being so passive-aggressive? He had absolutely nothing to lose from this, so what did he have to be bitter about?

"Personally, I think this is a splendid opportunity," said the male yellow. "If the six of us could outwit the deadliest beasts in the forest, imagine what a growing population could accomplish with those same skills."

"Yeah, that's right," I said, recalling a time when I pondered that exact scenario.

"That does sound interesting," said the female yellow, "but can we hold off on it until tomorrow? It's already been a big day for them; we should let them enjoy the serenity for now."

"Sounds good to me," said the red. "Besides, all this training has given me an appetite. We should ask the harlemin to help us find some nectar."

"Yeah, we should," said the white. "It would be good for them to get some flowers."

Together we went back to the harlemin, and as we did, I eyed the blue. Something had been really off about him since we had gotten here, and I determined right then and there that I would get to the bottom of it.