POV: Cyrus / LOCATION: Ruined Prison

The prison is a flooded mess. The spontaneous fires have activated all these damn sprinklers and alarms.

And to think that I was capable of such destruction. It's… unsettling.

Since I have lost feeling in my lower extremities, I had to draped on Gyarados's back like some damn fragile cargo. I protested with all my strength, but my silent screams fell on deaf ears. My unwillingness to give up prompted my Pokemon to sit on me to pin me down.

Currently, Gyarados is the ship and Weavile the captain. "All the humans are runnin' that-a-way," it says. "So we… go this-a-way!"

We slither down a warped hallway and emerge at the posterior of the burning prison.

Once outside, I notice how the moon is nowhere in sight. In the absence of light, the black tapestry of the sky ripples with needles of rain. Gales howl and whip about the volatile air, tossing up trees and chunks of earth.

Luckily for me, I am swaddled within the safety of my Pokemon. Like a defenseless infant.

As we navigate the treacherous coast, I force my slipping attention to this light in front of me. While my memory has been distorted by time, my body remembers its warmth. My heart remembers the laughter we've shared.

"So you're truly Rotom," I mouth. "You haven't changed at all."

Noticing my attempts to communicate, Rotom hovers closer, its eyes washing over me like the searchlights overhead.

"You have to speak up," Rotom whispers. "Cyruzzt, how much does it hurt? It'll be over soon, okay?"

"Keep talking to him," Honchkrow says grimly. "Don't allow him to close his eyes."

"Wow, you actually care about Cyruzzt? Back then you harassed him for no reason! That's why Rotom didn't want to play with you."

Honchkrow cringes. Crobat chuckles.

"Ah yes, I remember when you cut his head open with a seashell. Poor Cyrus didn't notice until he passed out from blood loss."

"SQUAWK! Y-You act like I'm the only harbinger of misfortune when it was you, Crobat, who kept feeding off his blood until he lost consciousness!"

"E-Excuse me? At least Cyrus gave me permission beforehand. Isn't that right, Cyrus?"

I nod.

Honchkrow snaps its beak. "Please, stop feeding words into his mouth. Humans cannot understand Pokemon!"

"Sometimes Rotom feels like Cyruzzt does understand." Rotom peers at me once more with those vulnerable eyes, absorbing every scrap of my broken body. "Like right now. He knows that we're talking about him."

I… feel like a stranger listening in on a family conversation. Nonetheless, I have so many questions for my Pokemon: After the raid, where were you taken? Were you fed properly? How do you perceive me? Were you happy by how I've treated you over the years? Have you ever wanted to leave me for someone else?

"Hey, how come I never heard of Rotom?" Weavile wails. "How come no one tells me nonthin'?"

"YOU NEVER STAY STILL TO LISTEN TO ANYONE," rumbles Gyarados, who juts its head to the inky distance.

We have reached the end of the coast: a cliff which overlooks the turbulent sea. Far below lie jagged rocks which rise from the seabed like hellish spires. Anything that is caught in the vortex is mercilessly ripped to shreds.

"IT'S TOO DANGEROUS TO SURF," mumbles Gyarados. "THE CURRENTS WILL TEAR US APART."

Crobat raises its head to the lattice of lightning in the clouds. "And it's too risky to Fly. We will be shot down."

Weavile flails its claws impatiently. "So we're just gonna sit here so Cyrus bleeds to death? We need human help! Or a Blissey!"

After mulling it over, Rotom brightens. "Let's go back to Sunyshore! Cyrus's parents—"

And Honchkrow slaps a wing over Rotom's mouth. All eyes are on me, awaiting my reaction. I manage a weak whimper.

"I thought he understood us for a second there," Honchkrow murmurs. "The way he looked at us… Rotom, do not ever mention that place in front of Cyrus. I'll fill you and Weavile in later, but for now, we need to get back to Veilstone."

Veilstone. On the other side is land. Or it could be ocean. Or nothing.

Something tickles in my lungs. Instinctively I bend over, causing my dislocated ribs to further pierce into my organs. A brutal cough shreds the lining of my throat. I've expelled most of the fluids in my body, so I have to wonder what it is that I'm holding right now. Some sort of solid. It's wet and still warm.

Suddenly, I am assaulted with a blast of extreme cold. Pins and needles crawl up my fingertips like thousands of poisonous spiders. No amount of shivering can alleviate this wretched, permeating chill…

To top off my novel of ailments, I am so tired. My heart flails weakly in its ribcage. It's taking everything I have just to stay awake.

Crobat gently squeezes me into its leathery embrace, a wing tenderly stroking my grimy hair. "You're doing great, Cyrus. Keep fighting. We'll be home soon."

Home. Safety. Mars prowling the perimeter with her rifle; Saturn playing videogames during work; Jupiter yelling at the Grunts to stop fantasizing about the boss while simultaneously kicking their asses. A warm cup of black coffee on sleepless nights. Jazz in the starry corridors.

I humor myself with the illusion before scrubbing my itchy eyes with a sleeve.

Home. I've lost my home a long time ago. Upon my return, Jupiter will turn me in. Mars will crush my fingers; Cynthia will break my legs so I won't run away. Looker and Lucian will monitor my cell until I am tucked into a straitjacket. Volkner and Flint will jeer along with the crowd as I am wheeled away.

If I escape, I will be rearrested. If I do nothing, I will succumb to my injuries.

I afford myself a gallows laugh.

It's over, isn't it?

My immediate response is to blame Charon for my misfortunes. After all, he plotted to eliminate me from the picture. He took advantage of Galactic for his selfish desires.

But think about it, Cyrus. He came into the picture much later. After all, you were responsible for your own demise. You planned it out from day one. You took advantage of Galactic for your selfish gains.

I'm sorry…

It's too late for that, Cyrus.

Then out of the blue, a voice calls to me. Not my Pokemon, nor the demons in my head, but…

I crawl to the ledge where nothing but darkness swirls far beneath. Ah. Of course. It's that melody from 10 years ago, one so tragically beautiful. A decade later, it has found me again.

Back then, the abyss sang for me when I'm teetering on the brink of despair. There was comfort in its lies, in its false promise of peace. But now, the sea is angry. It hungers.

Suddenly, I remember those closest to me. I remember Mars and her crude joy towards the mundane. Her exuberance with weapons, her delight in torture. Those long nights where I have to accommodate her in my office because of her reoccurring nightmares. She would watch me work until she felt safe enough to let her eyes close.

I remember Saturn and his reluctance to fully apply himself. His obsession with materialism, his sedentary lifestyle. Those humid afternoons where he hovered over me as I rewired the breakers. He would later show me what he learned, grinning crookedly when I offered him a nod of approval.

I remember Jupiter and her jaded wisdom. Her stubbornness, her no-nonsense temper, her snarky competence. Those wee hours of dawn where she barged into my office, still half-asleep, to drag me off to my bedroom or the infirmary wing. It's usually the latter.

The memories bring a genuine smile to my face. My heart weeps. Charon was right: I only appreciate what I have after it's been taken away.

But rest assured: I will properly compensate them for their time. That's the least I can do as their former leader.

Tides crash against the base of the cliff. The sea is growing impatient.

I present my palm to Honchkrow. Reluctantly, it opens its beaks and coughs. With a brittle rasp, my companion expels the treasure that I've entrusted it to safeguard.

Cynthia… I remember you as I squeeze the Red Sunstone until its jagged edges dig deep into my exposed flesh. You are my blessing and my curse. Your recklessness will be your downfall. Continue down your path, and you'll accidentally hurt those closest to you. I don't want you to repeat my mistakes.

But who would listen to the words of a pathological liar? What's more important is that no matter what you did to me, I'd always come back. Once upon a time, you kept quiet on my behalf, sparing me the label of murderer. Ten years later, it's my turn to keep silent for you. We can't have your reputation marred by the death of a criminal.

The Red Sunstone trembles in my fist. Right… because everything is about you. You're the hero of Sinnoh, and I'm the villain who wanted to see the world burn for shits and giggles. Your efforts to reach your dreams are validated and appreciated while mine are misguided and dismissed.

Do I regret my actions at Foggy Forest? Perhaps…

All right, Champion Cynthia. I concede. As my final act of retribution, I'll abandon these memories which I've latched onto for so long.

And with a sigh, I drop the Red Sunstone into the sea. It vanishes in a heartbeat.

"CYRUS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STEP AWAY FROM THE LEDGE."

Ah. How can I forget about my dear Pokemon? They went through all the trouble of breaking me out of prison.

Setting my slippers aside, I throw my arms around them. So warm… so real.

Crobat. You've nourished me throughout my lost years. You've kept me alive. Now that you're big and strong, you can find a new source of food. I am past my expiration date.

Honchkrow. You've kept me on my toes. Kept my mind sharp. Now that you have underlings under your beck and call, you can find someone else to spite. I can no longer entertain you.

Gyarados. You've protected me from the evils of this world. Kept me safe from myself. Now that you're capable of protecting others, you can start anew. I'll only hold you back.

Weavile. You've lent me your trust while your kind thought otherwise. You saw me as an equal. Now that you've matured to be a leader, you should seek your own clan. I don't belong in your family.

And Rotom. You were my first friend. You've made my formative years so much more bearable. It's a shame that you had to come back now to see how far that little boy has fallen.

My Pokemon. My pride and joy. You've grown up so much, each and every one of you.

So I bestow these parting gifts to you: your Poke balls. The best I can compensate you for your company is to return your freedom.

"Cyrus?" Alarmed, Weavile tosses its Poke ball aside. "Cyrus, it's very slippery! Come back here!"

Hot, happy tears stream down my cheeks. Everyone… I promise that I won't forget you. No matter where I end up, please live your lives to the fullest. Thank you for being with me until the end.

"CYRUS!" Gyarados roars, lunging forward. "CYRUS, NO—"

And I throw myself over the cliff. My back to the wind, my arms spread to welcome the rain, I feel like Icarus after he flew too close to the sun… after he disregarded his grandfather's warning.

My clothes billow around me. Light blurs to bands of grey. The thunder and lightning recede into the fading background.

Then I stop falling. Though bloody tears I glimpse Rotom. Struggling to hold up my collar. Behind Rotom are my Pokemon who have risked their future to form a chain which dangles precariously over this unsteady cliff.

Their futile stubbornness breaks my heart.

And as fate would have it, a cruel blade of lightning impales Rotom's body, and in its shock, it inadvertently releases its grip. Judgement has been cast and punishment will fall upon anything that attempted to alter destiny.

The last I remember of my Pokemon are their horrified faces blurred by rain.

Then I make impact. Like a meteor striking earth, I land on something hard and jagged. Blood immediately surges to my throat, and because it cannot properly flow out, finds a conduit by spilling out of my eyeballs.

As seawater pulls me under, the world unravels to shapes and colors. The storm trickles into the annals of consciousness. A ghoulish green light shrouds me in cold radiance, slowly but gradually bringing me down to the abyss.

But then… something strange happens: I float. I float from my watery pyre, past the cliff where my Pokemon are destroying their throats by screaming my name, up to the pale pink streaks of light in the thinning clouds.

Here in the heavens, I see a corpse in the ring of jagged boulders. A mess of charred, tangled limbs. The rock which had impaled its heart is slicked with blood, cartilage, and tissue.

Our gazes connect. I have died with my eyes wide open.

"Cyrus, you stupid, stupid human!" snaps a familiar entity beside me. As it pulls me up, its golden eyes dig into my soul. Judging me. "Did your self-loathing compel you to resort to such extreme measures? You still had time, Cyrus! Oooh, hopefully I can put your spirit back into its body…"

And in my final act of defiance, I wrench myself away from that horrible Pokemon. Its screams haunt me as I plummet from the heavens, past the cliff, through the corpse, and down into the sea where I keep falling well past the seabed and brimstone and my spirit corrodes until there is

nothing

of

me

left.