Tearing the Heavens

by Cepel

A young soldier from a once great family is thrust into the future and ends up in an unfamiliar and bizarre world, where his presence can cause complications both ancient and modern. He inadvertently becomes a trainer through mere misunderstanding and sets off in a journey to discover his own self and where he stands in a world that isn't his own.

78. Oddities

Well that was easier than I thought. And no hiccups, that's not right, Riven noted oddly. Fire raged, consuming the hotel like flash paper. Onlookers gasped and gaped at the sight of a multiple story hotel being literally burned down to the foundations. Paying for it later for sure. Universe always reciprocates.

The plan had, surprisingly, gone off without much issues. Hit the top floor, knock everyone out and teleport them to safety first, then Yukiko would sabotage the water pipes feeding water to the sprinklers outside the hotel. Once that was done, turn on the gas and start a small fire. From there, Gale and Will would direct the oxygen flow and the flames to give Riven and the others time to get away and get out along with the fire alarm. Then they'd let the fire loose, dial up the fuel, and allow the gas to finish the job.

Fires spread quickly, but this was honestly ridiculous. The hotel burned like some demonic fire spirit had gotten the munchies, all the while having Quil jump up and down in pure arsonistic joy that wasn't suspicious at all. Will had to return him to prevent very disgruntled hotel-goers from drawing conclusions. Steven had almost been recognized, and only some quick thinking from Riven prevented a group of girls from swarming him. Somehow they'd completely forgotten that their hotel had burned down and seemed solely interested in the handsome man that looked eerily similar to a certain Hoenn champion, who was actually carrying an armored, unconscious woman on his back.

"My name is not Jerry," Steven hissed. "And I do not have wrinkles!"

Will was still snickering.

"No, no of course not," Riven assured, smoothing the edges of Steven's suit that Inari's armor had wrinkled. He even nicely adjusted his tie. "You're the perfect reflection of youth!" Steven swiped at him. "But I had to get them off you before they went and posted your handsome face all over the internet and Unova would go nuts if former champion Steven Stone was found in the region near suspiciously burning hotels, huh? And kidnapping a poor, defenseless, drunk woman you no doubt lured over to a seedier section of Castelia. Then the media would be all over it and you'd have to make a public statement and things would suck for a while. Wouldn't be able to go for a walk without someone being all over your business, or get that leaf juice you like so much. It's your fault, actually. Is it hard being so damn good-looking it hurts?"

"I-uh… Jerry?" Steven protested weakly, flushed. Gale couldn't restrain her giggles.

"First thing that came to my mind. My second choice was Bob. Third was Dave. Kind of look like a Dave. Maybe a Joseph."

"I will have my Armaldo metal claw you into that dumpster."

Riven grinned in Purrloin like fashion. Annoyed, Steven walked over into a nearby alley and away from prying eyes. The others joined him, peering up at the orange sky and smoke rising hundreds of feet in the air. Steven and Riven exchanged glances, nodding. Taking out an expendable phone from his pocket, Steven dialed emergency services, voice frantic as he tipped them off not to get near, giving warnings of suspicious activity and dangerous explosives. Anonymous tip over, the group waited until sirens wailed in the distance.

By then most of the building was in shambles, with the blackened concrete supports being some of the only things standing while everything else billowed into a cloud of ash and smoke.

Riding on Meta, Rika, and Emile, they took off for Glacen Heights—an uppity area of Castelia where the wealthy bankers, brokers, and generally detestable members of Castelia's financial word resided, lined with penthouses and excessively expensive bachelor pads few could afford. Walking through the area during the day felt pretentious, at night it was a little bit more bearable. A little. It was on the other side of Castelia at least, so they had a solid alibi in case things went bad. They suspected it was minutes before the police and then the UFO would notice, then things would really get interesting.

---

"What is going on down there?"

A few sectors away atop the roof of the hotel the gym leaders were currently holed up in, two operatives standing guard squinted into the distance. Orange light. And… smoke? Fire?

"Got to be kidding," one of them complained loudly, squinting uselessly into the distance. "As if enough things haven't gone wrong today. Looks like smoke. From the orange light—someone setting buildings on fire now?"

"Where's that at?"

"Dunno, looks like the residential sector near downtown. The not so nice part. Damn, I hope what's burning isn't what I think it is." The operative raised his gun and peered through his scope, his breath fogging against the Unovan night air. "Shit."

His partner broke out of his own stupor and looked through his own rifle's scope. Well look at that. Both men slowly put down their weapons, their visors reflecting the orange in the distance.

"Holy… That's a hotel. Big one too. Maybe an arsonist got brave?"

"Let's check the holo. System must've flagged the hazard by now, see how bad this thing is." One of them pulled out a holomap of the city, where a large section was highlighted orange indicating fire hazard and whistled. "Jeez. That's the whole block. Gas leak?"

"Maybe-"

Before they could speculate more, several explosions rang out in the distance, and the orange light flared further. The two men flinched, stared at each other, and groaned in unison.

"Gas leak," one confirmed, sighing. "Any other day I'd say let the city and fire department handle it. Today though? I don't like it, someone's up to something. Hotels don't just spontaneously combust on the same day three gym leaders nearly bite it."

"Simple explanation is often the most correct. Could be a bomb threat?" His partner mused. "That's on the bingo board, isn't it?"

"Yep. Along with zombie invasion, legendary attack, and flying Grumpigs."

"That means Hernandez Jr. is winning the pool. Guys like a gambling savant. Shit's unfair. Bet on the zombies. Fuck. Think I'm going all in on the legendary attack next."

"With your next paycheck?"

"Yup."

"Ballsy. Wait, in the middle of the city? No way. Odds?"

"10 to 1."

"Good luck with that."

"I'll take my chances. Hopefully it isn't Kyurem coming back to teabag us again. Going to call it in, just in case. Don't want to be reassigned to Icirrus during the winter if we jacked this one up. Frostbite's a bitch in uniform. Command this is Braviary-1. We got a situation."

---

Allen Pershing was not having a grand night. Not only were his wits and patience strained to the point of breaking, but this day just wouldn't stop giving, would it? Foreign dignitaries almost getting assassinated, a gym leader(relatively) shot, tensions thick enough to cut with a knife, and now he'd heard rumors that a hotel in another part of Castelia had been turned to cinders in record time, like an oversized matchstick. Given the state of things and the near awful time of it all, best to assume this wasn't some run of the mill idiot leaving their stove on and stepping away. But why a random hotel in the middle of the night in a part of Castelia the leaders were nowhere near, and a residential sector at that?

And the absolutely bizarre fact that apparently everyone had been evacuated, which ruled out gas leak automatically despite the reports that there were multiple explosions—another red flag he'd tallied up in his head. Not a few casualties, not a lot, but none at all. That just… it didn't make sense. Either a perfect storm of things going right or they were dealing with a courteous arsonist. Allen scoffed. As if those people are ever considerate.

He scratched an itch on his neck, reevaluating it in his head as a sudden snore from Brawly violently broke his concentration. At least the fire department was on it already, he thought, glaring at Brawly. Good. The water pokemon were working to douse the flames, but something about it all rubbed him the wrong way and he couldn't put a finger on it. Another snore made him jump.

Too convenient. And I'm starting not to believe in coincidences. Not today, at least.

If it was Sayres or Singularity or Pollock's men, then there was some sort of ploy here that he wasn't able to piece together. Made his head hurt. Luckily most of the leaders had joined Brawly and passed out or they'd be up asking questions they didn't have answers to. How does a several story hotel get incinerated like that, and why wasn't the sprinkler system activated? Something stunk here, and it smelled like three day old Magikarp. His nose wrinkled at a familiar smell. The scent of Tauros feces on the wind. Because none of this shit added up in the slightest.

Especially that one stray phone call that dispatch had brought up to the higher ups. An anonymous tip warning not to let anyone near the building for the better part of the next day or week, citing hidden explosives and dangers or something. Cryptic and much, much too suspicious.

Very courteous arsonist, indeed. His intuition kept nagging, and he wondered what his newest headache was doing. Maya had given him a small update, saying that he had gone off by himself to meet someone, then a hotel goes up in flames. He doubted the guy would randomly decide to link up with an arsonist and set fire to a hotel right after getting discharged from the hospital, but weirder things had probably happened before.

Wouldn't hurt to check, if just to scratch that itch.

---

Sitting on a very large and incredibly soft couch that was probably bigger than most rooms, Riven and the others sat back, watching the television news report about the fire. They had returned their pokemon out of consideration for the very expensive furniture around them, which only made the suite seem bigger and more pretentious than it already was. Steven's face still looked like he'd swallowed spoiled fish, and Hasei placidly remained at a distance, face blank.

They had elected to enter the Highrise through the window as Steven came up through the main lobby, just to make sure no cameras had spotted them. Seeing Meta use psychic to float two unconscious people to the balcony hundreds of feet in the air was a little distressing on the heart. Metagross were incredibly strong psychics, there was little cause for concern but fear was very much real when they were literally hundreds of feet from the concrete below.

"Can just imagine what kind of shit the police and UFOs are getting flung their way right now," Will mumbled, his chin resting on his palm. "While we're sitting on these godly pillows. What are they even made of? They're so soft!"

"I hope they heed the warning," Steven replied quietly, fiddling with a holomap of the surrounding area of Mistralton Cave, still fish-faced. "Or I'm going to feel worse about this than I already do."

"Maybe an added 'legendary pokemon mad, go away please', could've done something? Do they take that serious?" Gale asked. Steven shook his head.

"They'd probably dismiss it, most likely. Apparently, prank calls about legendary pokemon stumbling into one of the most populated cities in the world are common. They certainly were in Ever Grande."

"Really?"

"After the hundredth following the fiasco between the Weather trio, I stopped taking them seriously," Steven said unhappily. "If any of those three were headed for Ever Grande, we'd have known it. They're not exactly subtle. Unfortunately, the Creation trio are not bound by minor things like not being in the area. They could rip open a portal and be there instantly I assume. So, better to leave a vague and open threat than an unlikely one. People seldom believe things that sound insane. How many people believe you're a time traveler at face value?"

He motioned his head to Riven, who went a little pink. "None. Unless they're insane. Like, actually nuts. Champ's got a point."

"If that's the case then you better have a good excuse for how weird you look right now. The gym leaders aren't crazy. Else how are you gonna explain that get up, Nathan?" Will pounced. "You're super tan, wearing several pounds of crystal armor, and your hair looks like an ancient Johtoan feudal warlord's. You were definitely not wearing that or looked like that before you went on your field trip from hell. And remember you still have to meet the other regions' delegates? What would they think if you showed up like that, they wouldn't buy a bullshit story about theatre plays for a second, or getting so black out drunk that you ended up in an Orran flea market half asleep in a tanning booth with super glued on hair extensions and a tattoo of a Dunsparce on your right thigh. Or they might and then their opinion of you would end up in a deep sea trench. Remember that Sela lady is in your group. She's not the trusting sort, from what I've heard on the interwebs."

"Don't remind me. And I didn't really consider my hair being a priority so I never got a chance to cut it. And I'm not that tan, am I?" Will shot him a look. Dipping briefly into the restroom, Riven was in a pleasant state of mild surprise as he returned. "Okay, I am really tan. More than what I was back when we got trapped in the desert. That one faded away quick."

"That's because you're allergic to the sun normally. I've seen the way you screech in the morning," Gale said. "Could pass for a southern Hoennite at this point. Or an avid beach goer."

"Do you like it?" He asked cheekily. "I've always wanted a lasting tan, just not like this. Figured it'd be on a beach somewhere in Lilycove or Slateport, not in a damn desert."

"Hmm, it is a bit nice," she hummed, scanning him head to toe. "But I liked you when you were pasty too, don't worry. I won't complain about the extra eye candy, though."

He brightened like a Growlithe puppy being handed a treat. Will mumbled something about being gross. Gale refocused quickly, holding up a finger. "But know who won't like it at all? The rest of Unova. Imagine their reaction. If they disliked you before…"

Riven frowned, the reminder spoiling his praise. "Getting a tan during a crisis will make me seem like a spoiled Kalosian prick, yeah."

"I mean, if you've been on any of the message boards, they already think you're a tremendous asshole just based on your gym layout. Considering you're supposed to be a soft Frenchie, that kind of pisses them off even more. Unovans hate Kalosians almost as much as they hate Galarians. Well, maybe a little less."

Did Steven's face contort when Will had mentioned Galarians? Riven knew Galar didn't bother attending the world tournament, but he knew next to nothing of what they were actually like. He just hoped they weren't as judge-y as Kalosians if he ever met one.

"There's also the issue that Nathan the injured gym leader was currently still recovering from his injuries today, and he most definitely has all black hair," Steven pointed out. "I recommend you feign being hurt to not tip anyone off that you're actually not normal and have been gone for over six years. Normal people don't get blasted in the chest full of buckshot and get to walk around the same day, even with a vest and an Audino's help. Soft-boiled doesn't help humans out much at all like it does pokemon." He noted the matching blue of Riven's left eye and still found it jarring. "I suppose we don't have to worry about the eyes now, at least. And we can't do much about the tan… but I'm sure you could come up with some sort of insane train of logic to explain that off. Or just deny it with no explanation. As for the hair length…"

He turned on the pair of clippers he pulled out of a small bag in his briefcase, the blades buzzing to life as he turned on the switch rather ominously.

"Easily solvable. I must warn you that I don't know how to cut hair, so there is only one option available. Two if you prefer to look like a Krookodile chewed on your head and spat you back out. Burgh would throw a fit if you did that. Well, they most likely will if you show up with a buzzcut but lesser evils, right? We did reduce a building to cinders earlier, so this should be nothing for you. Temporary pain to your ego. Harmless."

Oh man did Riven not like that sinister grin. Revenge for the Jerry comment for sure.

The clippers kept buzzing as he paled, which got worse when Steven started rapidly, and sinisterly, adjusting the speed setting of the thing to inflict further torment with each click. Gale held her hands up and laughed harder than she should've at the thought of Riven getting a buzzcut. "Don't worry, dark boy. I used to cut my dad's hair all the time. I'll spare his dignity, Steven. Shouldn't take long, about twenty minutes."

"Pity, I'd have liked to see the despair after a bad haircut." He shrugged and took her word for it, handing her the machine and a pair of scissors. "How unfortunate."

"I don't want dad hair either," Riven protested. "You sure you know what you're doing?"

"On second thought, Steven, I have a wonderful idea." Gale said sweetly, "is there a bowl around here?"

"Absolutely!" he replied, eager. "Which one would you like?"

"No!" Riven debated jumping out the window instead, and resorted to begging. "Mercy. Please." Gale flicked him on the forehead.

"Mercy, huh? Then quit your bitching, and trust in my ability or you'll get the finest bowl cut Unova has ever seen," she chided, the thought almost driving her to maniacal giggles. "I'll have you know I got lots of practice getting it right with my dad when I was young. It'll be fine. Very fashionable. Once I'm done with the haircut, we'll dye his hair, right?"

"Correct, I did bring some with me. There should also be some spare clothes in one of the travel bags to replace that armor you're wearing. Nothing special, just black shirts and jeans. Hopefully you can turn him less into an ancient soldier and more into a gym leader that may have possibly fallen asleep inside a tanning booth. We should be as quick about it as possible, preferably."

She nodded far too happily and walked over to the bathroom, motioning Riven over with an evil grin and witch like cackling. Grumbling hilariously ineffectively, he stood up and shuffled after her. The door shut with a click and Will swore he could hear Gale give her best villainess impression.

Going back to the current situation though… was a little disconcerting. Hasei sat with his arms crossed on the couch, teeth gnashed together. He'd watched the two walk into the bathroom with barely concealed irritation and during their flirtation appeared more or less on the verge of turning the expensive Johtoan walnut end table into wooden splinters. Gears turned in Will's head and he decided to ask a question he probably shouldn't have.

"Err, so if you and Riven were the same, does that mean that you think of Gale like that? With the twin thing though how does it work?"

"By being none of your business," Hasei said thinly, fists clenching.

Will put up his hands, feeling increasingly awkward. "Whoa, okay, just asking…"

"Stop. Asking."

"Fine, dude, chill out." Will fidgeted for a moment. "But like… doesn't that suck? You can't y'know, share? Same person so technically it's not ga-"

Hasei drew a knife from one of the compartments in his armor and stabbed it into the leg of the coffee table. A night slash flowed through it and cut right through the hardwood, the table sinking to one side. Will's sentence dropped off as he held a finger limply in the air. Steven glanced between them and sighed, wishing he had more tea to soothe his tensions. Why the table? Why was it always the coffee table? He sighed at the sight of the ruined furniture, recognizing that he had to save them all from the veil of awkwardness Will had just landed them in.

"Okay, forget anything that has to do with Gale. Hasei, if I may, who are they?"

Best give something to take the twin's mind off an uncomfortable subject before he got angrier and sliced the bed in half. He gave Will a pointed glare that promised not a single word about anything they had just been talking about. Steven inclined his head towards the man and woman in armored tunics lying on different beds across the room. The armor pattern on Riven and Hasei's armors were identical to the woman's, while the insignias and designs of the man's armor were completely different; his armor seemed just as functional as theirs, but the ostentatious craftsmanship, inlaid cerulean metal, and flowing patterns strewn about the cuirass marked him as someone important, a noble perhaps.

"Inari and Seisora," Hasei replied, thanking the heavens for Steven's ability to read the room. "Both important children of two of the ruling class leaders of their respective classes. I see you took notice of that gaudy mess he's wearing. She's Inari of the Felir fire class, and he's Seisora of the Ehial water class. They're a bunch of stuck up idiots if you ask me, like Kalosians hooked up to a pressure washer, too obsessed with beauty and grace and dignity. Worthless in a fight. The Felir fashioned our armor, so that's why they look similar. They value practicality a little more, much less annoying but loud and obnoxious. Like Will. Pain in the ass. Their parents chose to send them here with us to help Riven figure out the clues, and have some form of Naueilh live on if nothing else. Not a bad deal, of course they don't see it that way. If I were in their situation, I wouldn't either."

"I thought Riven went looking for clues?"

"Oh, he did. Only issue is we went before the bread crumb trail got started. There's still four years of unaccounted time before Arceus' judgement, so who knows what the Naueilhi did in that time. Riven's thought process was that the trail just led to more Origin spheres, but it may be more than that, possibly leading to more secrets lost to the world. Like Caas'vi, or the Creator. Or the Creation Gate fragments themselves. Secrets that, in the wrong hands… Well, I don't have to tell you what would happen then."

"Bye-bye reality," Will muttered.

"Exactly, which is why I decided I'll fill in for Prime so Riven doesn't have to. Two Taillows, one stone. Fighting a war on two fronts is a lost cause, Riven grounded himself like an idiot. I can rectify that problem."

"What?" Steven ground out. "You're—that's, you can't."

"Why not? He can't go out gallivanting at night pretending to be a mercenary on a job and be back at the gym first thing in the morning. He's not Crobatman, someone would notice. Least of all the leaders that are going to be outright living with him. They aren't blind, nor stupid. Our situation presents an opportunity. One that our time-displaced scientists pointed out rather instantly. They'd been spies for Inari's mother for decades, and they spent months preparing us for the return, teaching us how to pretend—act, in a way Riven was entirely unaccustomed to. You may have noticed how unbothered he was by the sudden shift in time periods."

"He did seem rather quick with that Jerry explanation."

"Old Riven would have stammered about like an idiot, as is his tendency. However, this way we cover more ground and get information twice as fast, one from the officials, and the other through me. And they wouldn't be able to trace Prime back to him because it's clearly impossible for one person to be in two places at once. That'd throw off several peoples' plans too, no doubt."

"The UFO would start asking questions," Steven offered. "They know who he is. He doesn't have siblings."

"That they know of. Prime is a mercenary, they aren't exactly known for being forthright. Or he could pretend he has no idea. It's not like he can clone himself, can he? Wouldn't that be crazy?" Hasei broke out into a sharp toothed grin, wry and wicked. "Besides who's going to stop me? I have no record to my name, no birth certificate, falsified papers, nothing. I'm no one. Which works out just well for Prime, but not for those two over there. I can't take them with me. They're going to be just as lost as Riven was when he first arrived, and useless. Spy masters they are not. Mercs they aren't fit to be. One was a bloody teacher, the other an honor guard who prefers to obliterate his enemies in single combat, not sneak around them. One idiot tries his luck and then you'd have no awareness water Origin there splitting a guy in two in high-definition posted on the internet in seconds, on the news in minutes. Petalburg was annoying enough, this would be a disaster."

Steven bit his lip, recognizing the dilemma. Inari and Seisora would wake up in an unfamiliar world with no credentials whatsoever and idea of where anything was, which would inevitably raise questions. And if fire and water began to move with no pokemon around… Not ideal. A public scuffle between superhumans? Forget about it.

His head throbbed angrily.

He couldn't throw them at the League either. Wallace certainly didn't deserve to be dragged into this, not with the anti-trainer unrest at home. That had been part of the reason why he'd declined to come to the Challenger Rush and be part of the Hoenn delegation. It seemed three champions were enough. Kalos had a similar mindset too, with the absence of Diantha.

"I'm not sure how I'd be able to get them proper credentials without getting the authorities involved and spilling… everything. I have funds, yes, but that's about it."

Hasei nodded, taking that into consideration. "Let me worry about that. If it works out the way I believe, those two should have their proper credentials in short order while also giving us more access to sensitive information that might otherwise be unavailable to us without tons and tons of red tape. I'm also investigating Mistralton instead. Stay with the officials."

"What?" Steven reeled. "And have you try and take on the Swords of Justice without any pokemon? I'm a former champion, and even I would pause before attempting it. You're going in there with no pokemon and no backup? You wouldn't make it two steps."

Black armor rippled into existence around Hasei's fingers, forming interlocking plates of glossy dark glass around his fingers. Steven shook his head, frowning.

"That may work against regular steel and claw, but it's made out of your element, their sacred sword would cut right through you. It's a fighting move, ki disperses your energy and destroys your cells. As a Nightmare, I know you're probably stronger than Riven as an Origin, but one hit and you will die. Flesh and blood has limitations regardless of how fast you can heal. Riven told me it takes him longer to heal from fairy and fighting moves. You can't brute force your way through."

"I know," Hasei said grimly. "But think about it. You can't go anywhere without having obsessed fangirls slobber over you, and secondly, I don't want your pokemon risking their lives fighting against mythical beasts for our sakes. And what their deaths would do to you in comparison." Steven paused, stunned. "Riven would hate having that on his conscience, and lamentably, so would I. And if I recall correctly, someone also needs to talk to the Unovan authorities about the Aberrants. I can't do it, and neither can Riven. Don't go running off to Mistralton and getting your team killed like an idiot, champion or not. I don't have any pokemon to lose. Except Efrain, who Riven will be loaning out to me. World wouldn't miss me. It doesn't even know I exist. You used to be a champion, and you're the head of one of the biggest companies in the world. I'm just a violent merc. Not a fair comparison."

"But your life-"

"Was granted to save another," Hasei cut in. "If I die, nothing of value would be lost. Or are you going to tell me you'd miss a monster you barely know?" He judged them, crimson gaze hard. They frowned in response, unsure of what to say. He scoffed, knowing. "I'm not Riven. I'm not the friend you know, I simply have his face. But I will make the most use of this life I was given, if it's just to find Charles and what happened to the other Origins. For allowing me to see the sun and taste the rain with my own body, I owe them all that much. I was born in Naueilh, as much as Inari and Seisora. This is personal for me. My primary passed some undesirable traits to me. Like a horrible sense of self preservation. So I will try. Even if it's useless. Even it's stupid."

"Going alone isn't just stupid. It's suicide, and solves nothing if you die as well," Steven countered. Hasei barely managed to wrestle down the urge to grin viciously.

"Suicide? Maybe. But alone? Who said I was going alone?" He glanced out the window. "All I need is a phone, and a tiny crystal. Information is a valuable commodity, is it not? Useful for trading. And I know someone who wants it badly. So badly they yearn for it however they can. Say, Steven, Roses bloom so beautifully in the spring, don't they? One has to be careful not to get nipped by their thorns when you pick them."

He eyed Will with a predatory glare, who gawked as if he'd heard someone say the sky was green and the water red. That was… that's crazy! He's nuts! "You're going to- Why? She ruined Riven's life. He got out once, what makes you think she won't do the same to you? She's got a whole band of us! And strong pokemon! Riven doesn't want to go near them again."

"Little detail, William? I'm not Riven, and she'll definitely remember me. I almost killed her and her frigid lackey once." Darkness formed around his fingertips, curling his fingers into sharpened claws. They emitted a chime as they clicked together, like the tinkling of glass. "I don't have attachments holding me down, she can't threaten me with anything but my own life. This time, she won't be so brazen, and Riven's hate won't sway me, I've dealt with it for nearly twenty years. A mutual agreement can coerce far better than the promise of violence among equal parties. And Singularity is both our enemy. She'll accept. After what I offer her, she won't refuse. Can't. She hungers for knowledge like man does water in a desert, irresistible. Should she do something stupid, however…"

An armored fist clenched, the glass-like dark armor crunching and cracking before fading away, breaking apart into shards then dust. "I'll make sure it kills us both."

"Hasei—" Steven tried, reaching out.

"You can't stop me from trying," he replied, crimson narrowing. "I understand the risks of what I'm going to do. But I don't care. I need to do this. I need to find Charles. Twenty thousand years lost and never heard of, just like the rest of the Naueilhi trail—a case gone cold for centuries. That means he's still out there, and maybe… just maybe, they are too. I have to find him before Singularity does and accidentally explode the world out of sheer idiocy and delusions of grandeur. Shooting a laser at a piece of the Creator… fucking idiots. If they screw up bad enough, then what Riven fears may come to pass. Arceus may pass final judgment and there will be no saving us. This time, he'll make sure. And there won't even be ashes left to scatter. I got a chance to live, I'm not going to let a couple of idiots go and take that from me. If I decide to die, it'll be my choice, not theirs."

His fists shook in cold rage, red eyes dark and grim. Was it paranoia talking, given Riven had experienced two extinctions, or was it justified? Steven didn't want to believe it, but five years ago, he wouldn't have believed Origins were possible, either. Riven experienced far more in that world than he's letting on, if his Nightmare is like this. I'll have to ask him in private, and hope I don't get skewered. "I see… but my point still stands even with Origins and their pokemon on your side. The Swords of Justice are too strong, they have beaten back armies before-" Letting the man ramble, Hasei waved a hand to spare the lecture and stood up.

"I'll be fine," he growled back.

"Wait, where are you going?" Will asked, eyeing the door.

"To the kitchen. To get something to drink. Being alive means getting thirsty, especially when listening to worrywarts."

Steven eyed Hasei and still found himself uneasy, grimacing. Looked like Riven down to the atoms, and if part of that personality of his was there… Then there would be no changing his mind. He could bash his head with a brick and the stone would break first. He gave up, knowing exactly how pig-headed people could be. After all, he was a trainer before. Which somehow made the sentiment worse, because he remembered when an older mountain climber had advised a much younger version of himself not to go wandering into a particular cave. He had, and spent two months with a leg cast after Meta had narrowly teleported him back to safety from a massive cave-in.

Yes, Steven knew exactly what Hasei was doing. Filling up a cup of cold water, Hasei came back to the group and took a very bored sip out of it. His body language signaled to the other two that they should drop the subject and move on, considering he could see their worry, both on their faces and in the air around them. Mental training couldn't come fast enough.

Sitting still in silence for several minutes, Will played with a tiny lick of flame, flowing it across his fingers and changing the color of it to produce an interesting light show. Steven watched him with mild interest while Hasei focused on the two unconscious forms on the bed, swirling the liquid in his cup absently. Then he suddenly dumped the entirety of the cup on the blue one. He didn't wake up. Then he threw the cup at him. It bounced off his forehead.

"Huh," Hasei said with monotone surprise. "I thought that'd work. Waste of a cup."

Fire went out as Will stared at the dripping wet man still dead to the world and the small red mark the cup had made. "Uh, are you sure they're not dead?"

"They're breathing. So yeah. I'm getting another drink."

Another cup in hand, the three watched over the two sleeping for a few more minutes. Will had begun to stare at the sleeping woman like a mesmerized Aipom. He hadn't noticed before, but now the male in him was responding. "She's almost perfect… like Isole. Are all Origins like her?" Will realized what he said and cursed his hormones; super human or not, he was still in his late teens. A gorgeous girl was still gorgeous, and every Origin he met seemed to be just shy of perfect, though Nera sounded more like a demon than an actual woman, from what Riven described. He did tend to exaggerate though.

Hasei didn't snicker despite the younger guy's slip up. He stared quietly. "No, she's just a class leader's daughter. Basically like a noble fire princess. Attractive goes without saying. You should've seen Lady Aiyum. One radiant smile of hers and you'd be a pile of goo on the floor. As a seventeen year old with raging hormones? Wouldn't stand a chance with the scent her ability gave her. But she was a grass type. Inari is Felir. Fire. She's… more intense, but not searingly so like some of the other Felir women. Like fire should be, without the temperament. A bonfire instead of an inferno. Without her instruction, Riven never would have gotten as far as he did with his Origin abilities, and I'd still be stuck in his head. She could hand all of us our asses with her fire abilities alone. If she fought a pokemon that wasn't a champion grade at least, I'd put my money on her."

"You sound fond of her."

"She treated me like a person the first few days," Hasei muttered ruefully. "Didn't judge."

At that comment, Will frowned. Awkward silence once again permeated the air.

"Erm… Why did you two decide to bring them here to the present? If it carried so grave of a risk?" Steven wondered. Hasei seemed to want to take his mind off of it also, allowing it. "Why risk it?"

"Risk was worth it. Inari is an instructor, and Seisora—while an asshole—is one of the strongest Origins I've—Riven—ever encountered, and coming from a world full of them, that isn't a light statement. We wanted to bring a class leader, but their people needed them, they wanted to stay behind for morale. I understand why. When staring at the end of the world, your world and everything you have ever been, a steady hand can seem stronger than fate itself. Many were afraid, and Charles warnings of the instability of the time currents deterred many from volunteering. Still, their power is frightening. The present has no idea what Origins are truly capable of, and how they can change not just human society, but pokemon as well. Training's been doing it half cocked."

What did training have to do with Origins? Steven's brow furrowed in confusion. He had the impression that Origins tended not to use them out of some arrogant notion of superiority. Wasn't far off the mark, actually. "How so?"

"Because an Unpowered trying to train a pokemon is like a Caterpie strapped to a drone trying to teach a Salamence to fly. In other words, lots of wasted energy and potential. There's a connection between Origins and pokemon, especially of the same type, that humans just lack. The possibilities and what you can do with your abilities…" He stared at his hands with wonder and equal parts apprehension. "Pokemon need guidance to unlock their potential, and Unpowered can mostly steer them to raw strength. The best trainers can teach technique or refinement, but not nearly as thoroughly as an Origin can. TMs alleviated that somewhat, but they are rigid instructions, and basic rudimentary instructions at that. They can be so much more. Aine and Inari bonded so quickly it was staggering. She can do things Blazikens today might deem impossible because of that training. Mega evolution between an Origin and pokemon goes without saying. Alone they are powerful, together monstrous."

He raised the cup in the air in a shrug.

"However, inexperienced Origins are more dangerous than inexperienced pokemon. The most energy dense types are the riskiest, and require the most instruction. But make no mistake, crystallization from overdrawing yourself can happen to anyone. Even Unpowered, through highly energetic events usually involving legendary pokemon. But mainly, through unnatural means. It is exactly how it sounds." Hasei said, his fists clenching hard enough to turn white. "They often died screaming."

"The keystones," Steven confirmed, rotating the metal cuff on his right sleeve. A multi-colored crystal shone brilliantly in the dimmed room.

Since that discovery in Shalour, he had a feeling that some form of experimentation had occurred to result in the formation of keystones and the corresponding mega evolution stones. Whatever energy Origins and pokemon channeled to fuel their abilities was incredibly weak in ordinary people, but nonetheless present. For a formation of crystal so packed with power to form, he had drawn the worst possible conclusion. Judging from Hasei's reaction… he'd been right. The Rockets weren't the only ones trying to evolve humanity. They'd tried it before.

"That would explain the rarity of them, and why no one seems to know where they come from. But that isn't the case with Origins, is it? You don't leave behind keystones."

Hasei shook his head.

"Our remains are singular type only, which means they are mostly useless for evolving pokemon in the hands of regular non-Origins. Too much of our power goes to waste during crystallization, doesn't condense right. The Naueilhi were able to use those crystals together along with other Origins to channel that energy with the machine to charge spheres. I imagine it could work for a pokemon of a particular type if you could get a proper crystallized form out of an overloaded Origin. Make an elemental keystone, perhaps? You'd have to keep the person's body from destroying itself first, however. A bit difficult." The macabre thought made him pause. "Crystallization… For us it's a regular occurrence, and most dangerous with people that have no idea what they're doing. Like say, an Elite Four with too much curiosity and too little self control? If he blows he'll inundate an entire city block. Heavens help anyone near a lightning Origin overloading. Ever seen a Steel Origin turn everything into metal in a two hundred foot radius? It's a gigantic pain in the ass. Inari was the real boon, you should've seen how stupid Origin children are. Thought trainers were idiots? You've seen nothing."

Oh, they saw something alright. They'd seen how that Origin Singularity had tested a sphere on go boom in spectacular fashion. It wasn't a pretty sight and the aftermath… ouch. Not favorable in any sense of the word. They had brought instructors that actually knew what they were doing then. Rather smart of the Riven twins… err, clones? They weren't sure what to call them. Hasei didn't seem to like the term and they figured testing his anger wasn't worth it. Regardless, that meant that if any more accidental Origins were created, they'd have the means to save them from themselves.

"Why didn't Riven ever overdraw, if he was so inexperienced? To my understanding, he's awakened several times to the limit of his control—that limit being tiny and relatively pathetic for reference."

"Ah. Simple—he was born an Origin. Much like the muscles in your legs, if it is not used it atrophies into uselessness. He is also a dark type. Many Origins are elemental and natural. Grass, Fire, Water, Ice, Rock etc. Then there's us. Our element comes from somewhere else and manifesting it takes some work. When our element isn't being constantly fed energy to stay materialized, it fizzles out and disappears. The natural world doesn't like it, it feels like trying to grab smoke through your fingers and keep it trapped. Now you have something that difficult to manage and nobody ever tells you how to bring it out, well, you start to see how normal you appear to be. You heal faster, and you're stronger than average compared to the regular person, but then again, so is every other Origin—so you start to think maybe you don't have elemental powers. Difference is, fire types shoot embers, lightning types shoot sparks, and grass types talk to plants. Flying- sorry air- can feel even the faintest of breezes. It's natural for them, like breathing. In order to bring out the dark without instruction, you need something more primal to bring it out. You need a Nightmare. And those are only born from suffering and extreme emotional distress. Children… as you see, are perfect candidates for extreme emotional instability. I pray no Sayre finds a dark sphere and I sincerely hope none are ever fabricated. Unova would be in much dire straits, if that were the case."

Steven and Will exchanged looks. Hasei exhaled slowly.

"Birthed Origins tend not to overdraw as easily because they've always had the ability to draw on their element from a young age. Converted ones, on the other hand… Imagine someone tells you to start learning how to drive. In the first case, they hand the kid one of those toy cars with a crappy engine and tell them to steer. They'll get the gist of it but the potential for errors is pretty low. Now the second case, someone hands the kid a fucking Kalosian luxury car to teach them how to drive. And then the idiot slams the gas pedal. Right into a tree. All your life you've been a normal, regular, weak Unpowered. And now, you're strong and you can create earthquakes that can shake the earth, or tornados that rip flesh clean off. Do you really think you want to start out with the basics? That's boring. No, you want to go big, just like the strongest pokemon you see battle it out with each other. Power intoxicates, magnifies the arrogant, and leads the foolish to their deaths."

Steven paled. He had to get a hold of Grimsley and Alder in private. Fast. And without letting the UFO know, or he'd have to explain the absolute headache that had just occurred in ways that didn't make him want to reach for a nail to lobotomize himself. Mentioning that a Celebi had been attached to him for several months was completely out of the question. AND he'd have to find a way to explain who the two were if they were to travel with him while getting used to the new world they found themselves in. If Seisora could teach Grimsley how not to kill himself…

As if summoned, Seisora shot upright, blue eyes dazed yet alert. Hasei immediately threw the rest of his water at him. Seisora flinched from the cold and growled.

"Welcome to the waking world, had a nice long sleep, did you?" The dark Origin said flatly. "Looked thirsty there. Thought I'd help you along, how nice of me."

Water droplets peeled off the man's face like his skin was made of wax, gathering into a small orb of liquid, which he then hurled extremely quickly into Hasei's face. It burst like a balloon, drenching him far more than what the little cup could've managed. The dark Origin frowned, spitting out water. A bubble attack?

"Woken by the copy, fantastic," he remarked. His voice was deep, and carried an accent that didn't sound too far off from that of Southern Hoennites. He rubbed his throat in surprise. "I… I am not speaking Nauielhi. What is this garbled language?"

"That would be English," Steven corrected, extending an arm and a smile. "I'm Steven Stone, a friend of Riven's. You must be the water Origin, Seisora?"

"Yes, that is who I am." The Naueilhi soldier eyed the extended hand for a moment, shaking it haphazardly. His grip was strong and lined with calluses. "I don't remember learning this language, how do I know how to speak this?"

"Celebi punched it into your brain," Will piped up. "Or what was… Celebi. Uh, Charles? Right? Whatever. That's why your head probably feels like a train drove into it."

"A train? What is a train? And who are you? Another Unpowered? The lack of hues is… saleng, vol iz. This language… confusing!" He grunted, remembering the word. "Why are you wearing black? Ven sata Greigas?"

"I have no idea what that means there, big guy, but I'm wearing black because it's part of my uniform?" Will explained slowly, evidently lost. "What did the last part mean?"

"Are you like him?" Seisora said. He tried to recall the words and got frustrated, exasperatedly pointing at Hasei, who was still dripping. "Dark. Filthy. Ugly."

Hasei threw his empty cup at him.

"I don't know about ugly." Will joked, holding up a finger. Fire burst out of it in sputtering fits of sparks to the tune of an old nursery rhyme. "I'm like her, actually."

Seisora squinted at him, then sat up and pulled on the material that made up Will's sleeves like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Rubbing his fingers on the leather, he settled back into the bed, bewildered. Steven's outfit practically dumbfounded him, what with the metal cuffs and all. He turned his attention to the linen of the sheets and the surrounding room, growing steadily more unhappy at the dullness of it all. Dark and dreary. "It isn't… No Caas'vi. What is this... this degeneracy? Just leather? Cloth? Are you all backward?"

"Backward? Why, because we don't like looking like a Regirock sneezed on us? And this thing I'm wearing is nothing special, just padding, stretchy stuff and polyester. No freaky crystals involved. Those sheets are cotton too. Most clothes are. Not sure what kind of stuff you guys slept on in that world of yours but we don't weave crystals into things just because. Looking like the ass end of a rave with all those swirly patterns."

"They're fractals," Steven clarified, to which Will shrugged indifferently.

"Wasn't a big fan of geometry class anyway."

Seisora seemed absorbed in the white sheets of the bed, top lip curled as if he found sitting on them offensive to his entire existence. The water drenching Hasei then peeled off of him, soaked into the fabric, rolled that into a ball, and reformed into a spear of pressurized liquid that carried the white ball of sheets through the window and down onto the streets below. The Origin snarled at it on the way down.

Okay… don't give white fabric to blue boy. What those sheets had done to offend the guy, Will didn't want to find out.

Steven, on the other hand, was fascinated. Hydrokinesis, bonafide hydrokinesis! Water types were known to create water; few, if any, were known to control it to the degree that this man had just shown. The closest types that emulated kinetic abilities were rock types and grass types, the others merely generated it and shot at things. Perhaps it was because no one had taught them and it was easiest? Greninja had an aptitude for shaping water to their needs after all but most water pokemon didn't bother. Blastoise found pressurized water cannons perfectly suitable for turning things into paste with devastating effect.

"You are Felir?" Seisora inquired. And now he was staring intensely at Will, cerulean blue piercing like a spear. Great. "Or were you granted power?"

"Granted? Nope. I got turned into this by touching a sphere you Naueilhi dudes left behind while me and Riven were stuck in a desert. Riven showed us the pictures. Your flashy city thing is gone, man. Just some shitty ruins now. You're in the present—there is no Felir or wherever it is you're from anymore. I was born in Slateport, not Alola. As a normal, powerless kid. Didn't Riven mention any of this? Or did he forget?"

"He didn't. Idiot here just didn't pay attention, or does not believe it," a female voice sleepily said from behind them. Inari groaned and sat up, groggily rubbing at her eyes and her temples. "As usual you can neither read nor comprehend anything that isn't about fighting and being an ass."

She had a similar accent to him, her voice rasping deeper than most women, yet still distinctly feminine. It was harsher, likely from being a fire type and developing fire sacs. Will had noticed his voice had also gotten rougher as a result of his change, figuring the same was true for female fire Origins.

"Why does an inferior element talk down to me? I could kill you in a second."

"I'm terrified. Blowhard. Someone has to remind you of your disgusting lack of common sense and to pull out the stick lodged up your ass." She cursed in a language neither Will nor Steven understood. She paused in realization. "I speak English! I told him the stick up the bum insult! My voice sounds so strange! Five, six, SEVEN! Charles really did it… I do know a different language! This is amazing!"

And immediately regret the excitement as her headache came back in full force.

Seisora rolled his eyes. "You learned to count, what an achievement. What's your best? Ten?"

"Higher than your five, at least. I'm surprised you ever learned to speak with all that prejudiced garbage that leaves your mouth, does it not leave a trail?" She spat back venomously. "Arrogant prick. Oh, that word does feel good to use."

"Indeed. A garbled language that fits you perfectly, Inari. Hits all the right backward checklists your kind is known for."

"We should've left you there."

"Had I a choice, I would have stayed, just so I wouldn't have to deal with filth. Felir love to live in wooden squalor, so I imagine it's not anything different from what you're used to."

Her eyes narrowed as Will noted the thin trail of smoke that escaped her nostrils. Uh oh. Hasei stepped in between the two armored Origins. "Hey, back off, both of you. We do not want to attract attention, and this is a very nice room. Settle your squabbles somewhere else, not that they matter anymore. If you really want to kill each other, wait until we get outside, yeah?" Seisora shoved him while Inari bared her teeth, steam rising between them.

"Don't give me orders, copy."

A white eyebrow twitched.

"Original. Like I haven't heard that one a thousand times. I may be a copy, but you chose to be a puppet to your fuckhead of a father, to be exactly identical to a stuck up prick like him. Your sister is so much better. Less… you. No wonder everyone prefers her over little Sei-Sei, the brash little brother. Should've brought her instead, she's the better version anyway," Hasei mocked, the personality shift quite drastic. Seisora growled.

"Don't insult my father, and don't you ever compare me to my sister."

"Why, worried she's prettier than you? Preens less than you do, someone would argue you're the princess. Sorry, Rapunzel."

Will's face met his palm. Instead of breaking up the fight, he'd gotten sucked into it with a single comment. Good god. He wished Steven luck, because if that was the dynamic the two old world Origins were going to be stuck in, he'd be surprised if they didn't destroy any sort of lodgings they found themselves in and stuck Steven with the bill. He seemed to be thinking about it too, given his sour expression and twitching eyelids.

Their argument then got worse as the previous comment incensed Seisora, devolving it into a two on one insult tirade between them, invoking plentiful usage of foreign insults, mothers, defective genes, and death threats. They were getting progressively louder until Hasei, having had enough, punched Seisora in the jaw. Then it really got going; a bed got smashed in the scuffle and part of the wall got sunk inward from one of Seisora's kicks. Inari managed to grab him by the straps of his armor as he elbowed Hasei in the mouth, easily flinging him with more strength than a woman of her size and frame should've been capable of.

Sailing easily into the sliding closet door on the opposite side of the room, Seisora crashed through it with as much subtlety as a bomb going off. A piece of the door immediately returned in that direction, striking Inari square in the face. She doubled over with a hiss, along with licks of fire.

Will was about ready to bring out his Samurott when the bathroom door immediately slammed open and Riven stormed out with freshly styled hair, fully expecting the worst. "What the fuck is going on out here?" Riven demanded, knife in one hand and pokeball in the other. Was somebody dying? Wait a minute…

He put the knife down, disappointment so evident he was afraid he'd leave dents in his face from the scowl. Hasei was bleeding from the mouth, Inari's hair was a tangled mess and also sported a vicious looking bruised eye, half the room was destroyed, Will and Steven were in the corner debating using their pokemon, and Seisora was removing himself from the mess of splinters that used to be the closet. He spat out a globule of something darkly colored onto the rug. The gym leader crossed his arms. "Good god, awake not even twenty minutes and you've nearly destroyed the suite! Do I have to get someone to shoot at you so you can behave?! You two are decades old! Can you stop insulting each other for more than two minutes?! You're not fucking children."

Their response was to nearly start fighting again when Seisora used the Naueilhi equivalent of a not so nice word to describe women who specialized in… adult matters. Naturally, Inari was having none of it. Grabbing a sharpened piece of metal from the nearby bed frame, she blew on it until it simmered white-hot, launching it across the room like a spear. Seisora twisted away from it as the heated projectile pierced the wall behind him almost halfway through, emitting a shower of sparks and lighting part of the broken bed frame on fire.

A pokeball flew into the air and in a flash of white light, a Gallade appeared in the room, eyes glowing blue as he restrained Seisora from leaping at Inari with his fist, and Inari from shooting a fist of fire at his eyeballs. He shot a stern look at Hasei, who raised his hands in surrender. Psychic would do nothing to him, but a fist would. The destroyed bits of furniture were then reassembled, the fire put out, and fused back into place as best as Baron could do; lamentably, one of the beds was beyond saving, unfortunately. As was the burned part of the frame. Seeing Steven and Will sitting there, the psychic waved hello with a bright smile.

"Steven! Will! Long time no see!"

They gave the fighter a limp hello. A large, jagged scar ran from the top of his crest down to the tip, as if he'd been slashed across the face by something with incredibly sharp claws. More scars, thinner and white, lined the edges of his arms while a thicker, faded scar had marked where a deep slash had no doubt traced the side of the Gallade's ribs at one point. Fighters were often decently marked by battle, and it became apparent that Baron had been busy in the past.

"I told you this would happen", Baron chided matter-of-factly, setting his hands down and turning to his trainer. "But someone didn't listen to me! Modern day buildings can't handle them! Nice haircut, by the way."

"Thanks. You were right, as usual." The Gallade could've passed for a Slugma with that smugness. Riven scowled. "Just get them so they don't kill each other and make more of a mess, please. Place looks like someone had a pokemon battle in here. Heal them too, getting blood everywhere wouldn't be too good on the housekeeping staff unfortunate enough to clean this place up after we're done. Can that metal pole come out of the wall?"

Baron yanked his arm back and the pole rattled for a moment under the psychic—and didn't budge. Unsatisfied, he yanked again and it shot backward, impaling the opposite end of the room. Riven's scowl deepened. The Gallade winced.

"S-sorry."

"Just… make sure they don't do anything. Leave the damn pole."

Will and Steven gawked, witnessing the Gallade walk over to the three troublemakers and admonishing them up and down with a tongue lashing few would be brave enough to attempt. Both Origins shot each other threatening glares but couldn't do much of anything to protest. A pink glow surrounded the Gallade's hands as he used heal pulse on the results of their little brawl.

"Is it safe to cross now?" Gale asked from the restroom, peeking her head out from the doorframe. Riven motioned for her to come out. She left the safety of the restroom and spotted Baron. He seemed to read her mind, because he turned around and held up a hand, waving.

"Gale! It's been years! I'm so glad to see you! Uh, come meet our otherworldly friends, I guess. Keep in mind they're a little angry at each other right now. Like really testy Pidove. Yeah, Pidove." The Gallade tilted his head, looking innocent for all of one second. Seisora tried to move and was immediately introduced to the floor. Inari placidly remained seated on the floor, unhappy but calm. He gave everyone a look that promised he'd hang them upside down for an hour until they passed out if they so much as decided to attack each other again. "Did you give him that haircut? Nice work, now he won't look like documentary actor in the morning. Wow I haven't seen a movie in a long time… actually. We should go watch a movie."

"We will soon, don't worry," Riven reminded. He put a hand on the Gallade's shoulder. "Promise. Plenty of theaters in Nimbasa. You'll have your pick of whatever you want to watch, with the team's say, of course."

"No fighting ones."

"No fighting ones," Riven confirmed, giving his pokemon a reassuring smile. "I don't think I'd be up for that, either."

Steven found that incredibly odd. He wasn't the only one. Catching the worried looks he was being given, Baron perked up again, laughing nervously. "Sorry. Been a while since we've been in the modern world, I just missed it." He smiled sadly, eyes downcast, tearing Gale's heart apart as he did. The concern she saw on Riven's face told her all she needed to know.

"You're using your vocal cords without strain now!" She exclaimed instead, giving the psychic a sideways hug to avoid the chest spike. The distraction worked, wrapping strong green arms around her.

"Yep, took a few years, but I managed. Took a heavy hit to the head that disoriented my psychic powers and it scared me, so I trained how to use my vocal cords instead of relying on telepathy all the time! It hurt a little at first, but I learned well enough. There's a lot we learned in the past…" He trailed off, suddenly becoming more solemn. "Some good things… some—not so good. I prefer talking about the good, like my voice! Boagrius was so happy he nearly tried to teach me hyper voice! Never got the knack for it though, I don't think my vocal cords are strong enough to handle the strain."

"Is that the reason for the scar?" She ran her fingers along to the top of his head crest. The scar tissue was rougher and hardened, reminding her more of a dented helmet than damaged skin. She supposed that was the point.

"Oh no, that was from me trying to fight a Salamence by myself. Took a dragon claw to the face, ha…" Baron trailed off, noting Gale's death glare. It sounded a lot better in his head. He rubbed his crest with a green hand. "Ummm, I tried to impress a beautiful wild Gardevoir? She was really strong and she did end up very impressed!"

That didn't help at all. Steven and Will managed a synchronized snort. The girl whirled to face Riven, who shifted uncomfortably under her glare.

"Uhhhhhh, man got needs?"

"Needs that involve wild Salamence?" she countered. "I can't believe that you'd let him do something so reck—" The thought died when she remembered Riven had at one point, done exactly that, in Forina. Climbing hundred foot tall spires filled with angry Aron and Lairon. All for a tiny stone. To save money rather than buy it in an emporium. Which was the entire reason she'd met him in the first place. Good lord, he wasn't any better. She held her head and made herself breathe before she slapped both of them. "Men are so stupid. You didn't even try to stop him?"

"Couldn't catch him. Teleported away before I could chuck my pokeball at him. Besides, we do stupid things. Often. If I stopped him from doing something bone-headed, then I'd have to start being responsible. Which sounds like a horrible time, really. And pokemon do tend to take after their trainers so…"

"Uh oh, Mom's mad," Will whispered to Steven.

Gale huffed angrily, accepting it with crossed arms. She poked the psychic in the chest with a finger. He feigned pain, complaining. "I know better than to try and convince Riven to not be an idiot, but you, mister, are a different story. Don't go poking dragons for some female attention again! Got it? You'll give me a heart attack."

"Yes, ma'am!" The Gallade saluted. He smiled again, and the sight dismantled Gale's anger completely. How many eggs did he leave behind over there? Baron wasn't a deadbeat father, was he?

"I didn't leave any more eggs behind, don't worry," he assured, having read her mind. "And I'm not a deadbeat!"

She shook her head, sighing in defeat. She hugged him again. "Okay, I'll allow it. I know it hasn't been long for me, but it's been years for you, just like it has for Riven, right?"

"Mhmmm. But I guess being hugged by a pretty girl makes up for it? Can't say no to that, wouldn't be right." The Gallade winked at his trainer, who just rolled his eyes with mild amusement. "Hey, Inari. This is Gale! Oh, I guess I'll, uh, let you stand up now."

Psychic power lifting, the woman thanked Baron on behalf of her knees, stood up and peered around at Gale, who shifted nervously. Molten amber eyes the color of lava scanned her, up and down as Gale tried not to squirm. The armored woman nodded once, satisfied. "The description was right."

"D-description? Was it something bad?" Gale asked, swiveling between Riven and Inari. She really hoped not, considering she was a little intimidated by Inari's presence. She was taller than her, and even with the armor, she could tell that the fire Origin was well muscled, and undoubtedly much, much stronger than Will. Despite the(now healing) bruised eye and tangled hair from the scuffle, Gale could plainly see the woman was incredibly attractive too, like some sort of fire princess from those Pokestar movies. She felt a tad self-conscious actually.

"No, not bad. Different. They really are like storms, your irises, as they are called in English. That is a rare trait in wind Origins. Your 'ability' must be connected to storms," Inari mused, curious. She got closer again, intensely examining the shorter girl. Gale stiffened. "So grey, swirling like a tornado. Beautiful. Most wind Greigas are. But too flighty, and talking to them is difficult at times. Caecili would have loved to train you. Some of the past and the future seems to be the same, at least. That is good to know. I am Inari, Riven said a lot about you. He said it's customary to shake hands? A peace offering, yes?"

She held out a friendly hand, which Gale shook awkwardly. Her grip was firm, marked by light burn scars across her palms. And she was feverishly warm, just like Will. "What kind of things did he say?"

Riven paled, "Inari no—"

The woman's grin stretched on her face in sheer glee.

"Oh, he asked about reproduction, including an interesting scenario involving a dark and wind mix. I wonder whom that could have been referring too. It was incredibly adorable, trying to be subtle about it. He even rejected many gorgeous Felir women that tried to steal him away because you had that much of an impression on him. He's faithful, at least. Unlike his Gallade." Baron put a hand on his chest, offended. Inari chuckled. "I can't say I blame him, since you changed his world when showing him the wonders a woman can do for a man. Right? What is the expression? Something with socks coming off?"

Gale went crimson, stuttering. Will was desperately trying not to laugh, and Riven already had his face buried in his hands, groaning.

"She's just jealous she didn't get to him first, like her mother would've wanted," Seisora muttered in the back of the room, to which Inari spun and shot an ember at him. Baron flicked his wrist and the fire dissipated uselessly into the air. He gave her a glare and directed one at Seisora next.

Inari, last warning. Seisora, don't antagonize her or I'll mop the floor with both your faces, literally, he warned telepathically, wiggling green fingers. Seisora growled in frustration.

"Fine. I'll behave. Can you release me now? It's starting to chafe. Blasted psychics…"

The Gallade reluctantly released his hold. The water Origin stood up and stretched, scanning the room and its inhabitants. "Finally… Well, seeing as how we are all here in this strange world of conflicting hues and the fun guardsman is here, what now? Conversations about reproducing with filth aside, there are two Greigas here from the modern day that I can see, and neither of them belong to a class. You, Filth. You mentioned the dynamics of this time period briefly, but this is confusing. Is that the rumored television?"

He pointed at the television, eyeing it like a rabid Poochyena puppy that was about to bite his fingers. Looked out the window at a rising column of smoke illuminated by the city's light, then back to the television. "Is that television showing the smoke? The one we can see?"

"Yeah, they call it the news. They report what's going on with the city or area at the time. Right now it's about a hotel that burned down. Which, coincidentally—is what remained of our entry point. Remember Charles' warning?"

"The legendary beasts would not be pleased. Explosively… unpleased." Seisora's looked out the window again. "Oh. That answers that question. Did the legendary beasts set it on fire?"

"No. We did."

He blinked after a beat, deeply pensive. He nodded to himself continuously. "I see."

"You do?" Inari asked, surprised.

"No. Not at all," Seisora admitted far too seriously. Riven held in a snort.

"We had to make sure no one went back there again. Best way to prevent someone from occupying a building is to not have a building. Absolute genius. And mind you, we also had to carry both your asses here trying to evacuate that hotel before it went boom. Several flights of stairs, I might add."

Steven scoffed. Not like he was the one doing the carrying. He'd carried Inari on his back the entire way while Riven was screaming bloody murder in the hallways at the top of his lungs. His shoulders were going to be sore in the morning, their crystalline armor wasn't as light as it looked.

"I am still lost. What's a hotel?" Inari asked. "Some sort of building?"

"Place to live, lots of people. Like an inn or tavern but way bigger. We're in one right now. Ours is just a lot nicer than the one we torched." Will answered. "And you wrecked part of it. Housekeeping is going to have an awful day."

They both stared at him, lost. Of course they didn't know what housekeeping was either. Will sighed.

"We were carried out of a burning building? Wait, who carried me?" Inari asked suspiciously. Fire enveloped her fingers in a way that made the men squirm.

Riven pointed at Steven instantly, who swallowed in mortification. "That would be him. He's a gentlemen, don't worry. He didn't try anything. Not like he could with all that armor on."

"Then who carried me?" Seisora wondered.

"I did," Hasei confirmed. "Like a princess." The water Origin scoffed in disgust as Hasei made mocking kissy faces at him. They almost came to blows again until Baron physically separated the both of them and dared them to try it. They didn't. Making sure nobody in the room was gearing up to try and do anything funny, Riven finally exhaled, instinctively pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, now that everyone has finally stopped trying to murder each other for more than a few minutes, let's clear some things up. Firstly though, introductions. We're sort of important here and it's only been about two and a half hours since my departure to your time. It's very confusing, I know. Nobody speaks or interjects until the other is done, okay? And no insults! Baron might have fixed you up, but I swear to god he will just as easily unheal the shit out of you. Got it?"

Everyone nodded slowly, with Riven's friends formally introducing themselves to the Naueilhi duo and vice versa. Inari found Will particularly fascinating, ruminating over his degree of control over his fire, his output, creativity, fighting style and just about everything involving super powered combat. She even offered tips. Will, being a young adult, rapidly had blood flush his face when she ran her fingers over his hands in eager excitement. Fool kept getting lost in her eyes, barely paying attention to what she was saying and nodding dumbly. It was frankly hilarious.

Seisora, in contrast, didn't seem particularly concerned with anything other than the bare essentials of what he needed to know about the time period, questioning Steven thoroughly and nodding periodically. Disciplined like a soldier, that one. After a summarized lecture of the night's events and other important world events of the future, Seisora and Inari were left rubbing their heads.

"Time travel is annoying," they both agreed. "So many kingdoms and sovereignties. No, regions you call them? Governments? Ugh, this present time is confusing. And anyone can see what is going on half a world away with this internet? How does someone keep track?"

"Practiced patience. Lots of patience," Steven chuckled. "Filters and search engines help quite a lot."

They had plenty of questions and no time to answer them. The two didn't quite seem as bothered by the fact that they were twenty thousand years into the future and there was a metric ton of things Riven had just tried to explain to them; particularly about Singularity and the entire shit cascade that was Unova at the moment. They did seem to be surprised that everyone carried around blocky phones and holo casters all the time though, poking at Will and Gale's phones with mild interest.

"I'm surprised you both aren't more confounded like Riven was when he first arrived here. Technology often defeated him," Steven noted with mild interest. "He mentioned you're both decades old… Approximately how many?"

"Seven," Seisora answered instantly, riffling through the different settings on the phone.

"Holy shit," Will blurted out. "I thought Isole was just messing with us…"

"And you, Inari?" Gale asked. "How old are you?"

"He's two solar rotat-pardon, years- older than I am. I am 68, why? I should not be wrinkling yet. Not for another four hundred years at least. Am I? Dahen vi… Stress!" The woman appeared distraught, even though Gale knew she had nothing to worry about. Her skin was no different from that of a woman in her early twenties, and Seisora likewise was nowhere near what a seventy year old man should've looked like. He looked like an ancient Altomare demigod from the myths in comparison—with the attitude to match. Inari could certainly turn an entire room by herself, not something a woman on in her years would be capable of.

"No. It's just… We're not used to people, erm… looking so young at that age. It's hard to remember that Origins are different. A lot different. Normally you two would be walking around with canes and complaining about arthritis or gout or something."

"Arthritis?"

"An illness older people get. Wears down their joints and causes them pain."

"Ah," Seisora shrugged. "Yes, such is the plight of the Unpowered. Weak, fragile, too proud for their own good, and short-lived."

"And yet they kicked Naueilh's ass, didn't they? Word of advice." Riven crossed his arms, irritated. "Might not want to mention something like that out there. It'll earn you looks and, worse—questions. This isn't your world anymore, and people don't like suffering assholes. Considering many people here have pokemon that could chew your face off, I'd advise against it. If that trainer has a Luxray, a big electric cat that can easily rip your stupid throat out, I suggest you shut that big mouth real quick."

"Basically," Hasei added, "don't be a fucking asshole for the sake of being an asshole, however natural it may come to you."

Seisora glowered at him balefully, then back at Riven.

"This was your idea, and my father agreed with it. That's the only reason I am here. We aren't allowed to show our abilities, we can't say Unpowered, we can't wear our armor, we can't talk to any 'police', and we can't walk into any buildings requiring so called ID until we get our own, which is most of them from what we've been told. And we are most definitely not to interact with any UFOs, whatever that is, and we can't talk to any gym leaders besides Filth over here. And we have to lie about where we were born and who we are for the foreseeable future. We are both over three decades older than any of you. What are we, children?"

"No, but putting a child leash on you might not be a bad idea," Riven mulled. Inari smiled at the thought.

"I'll take the leash if you take the muzzle," Seisora quipped back. "I do tire of your horrible sense of humor."

Riven woofed mockingly.

"Tempting offer, for the both of you." Inari said, as both men frowned. She composed herself, growing serious. "True, we may be older than them, Seisora, but remember why we are here. Age means little if we remain stuck in our ways. The restrictions bother me too. However, Will and Gale are living examples of what we're after. Our legacy. Naueilh's legacy. Riven said there are clues, we just have to follow them. That means all is not lost. And if we have to conform to this world's rules, then so be it. I am fine with it. No matter how bizarre. Playing along as Unpowered will be difficult for us, but not impossible I would hope. This is a chance, Seisora. For our people. Not just Felir or Ehial. They… they no longer exist. This is all we are now."

"I understand what's at stake, but doing it as if we are Unpowered? Why so…" He struggled with the word. "—normal? Why do we have to hide in the shadows? We can use our powers to do more, so that this world doesn't go the way ours did. This Singularity isn't hiding, correct? If what you say this Unova is embroiled in?"

"Don't think like that. Powers don't solve everything. Even Singularity doesn't use Origins overtly, and they have a squad of them, or so I think. Dangerous ones. They seem to be avoiding using them in the public eye for the same reasons. Their methods are more mundane than not. There was one exception, but psychics aren't uncommon in the world, even among regular people. Several gym leaders have psychic powers, though none on the level of an Origin. No one is shooting lightning bolts or fire blasts though. They realize that if the secret about Origins got out, and one of them killed a hundred people by shooting electric bolts out of his hands, then they'd hunt him or her and everyone else like them down. Pokemon are dangerous, people are worse. You want Origins back? Then that means you don't go out of your way to make them look bad, because it'll end in a morgue at worst, and a lab at best. Immortal, we are not. Nobody would be able to discern your allegiances anyway, so they'd just figure more mercs trying to worm their way into easy profit, getting turned into superhumans to get drunk on power. Life doesn't end well for them, or cleanly. They'll put us down the same way they do rogue pokemon. Trust me on that."

Steven agreed. There used to be a colony of Tyranitar that terrorized Mt Silver in Johto a few years back, causing wanton destruction and no actual fatalities. Until one day they made a mistake and leveled half a town,he recalled. Lance rode down there in a rage with several G-men and a vengeance. Now there weren't many Tyranitar anymore.

Nobody liked to speak of the dirty business of the pokemon world. As much as pokemon activists loved to tout one with nature and the like, some species of pokemon were too aggressive for their own good. Humans had gotten complacent into thinking they were the exception with rules and morals.

But what happened when someone appeared that cared about rules like one would an annoying pest—with power to match?

Dealing with pokemon like that was easy. Send a detachment with stronger pokemon and put down the threat if anyone bothered to do it. Dealing with armed people that had vastly stronger pokemon at their disposal was not nearly as easy, at least in modern times. Old world had something going for it; if there was ever a threat, you gathered up a bunch of people, rode out, and killed it dead—didn't matter if it spoke the common tongue or not. Simplicity could be quite effective in dealing with… problems.

Guns were quite the simple problem solvers, if you were looking to leave something dead, human or pokemon. There was a reason they'd been banned.

"I don't have to tell you how easy ballistics kill us, you've seen that yourself. Now imagine that backed up by powerful pokemon. You and I both know how hard it is to kill the stronger ones. Government police forces tend to have both and Elite Four level pokemon could wipe the floor with your face if they want to. Steven here can vouch for that, I saw his Metagross do some insane things in Kalos. Don't piss him off, by the way. His Metagross could fold you into eighths if it wanted to."

The two Origins looked at the man, who merely waved. Riven sniffed.

"The two of you—all of us actually—need to be exceedingly careful, listen to Steven and lay low. Our fight destroyed most of that sector in Naueilh, remember? Part of that was the crystal's amplification powers, sure, but do that shit here in Unova and you'd get arrested in a heartbeat, killed worst case scenario. High level pokemon are easily able to do the same thing, without any help from extra dimensional crystals. I got off easy the first time I was arrested thanks to saving the gym leader's daughter. And that was in Hoenn, which is a little more forgiving. Not everyone gets that lucky. I also mocked the detectives. Don't do that either, they might just remember. If you reveal yourselves then you'll just become targets, whether by criminals or governments. Nobody wants to answer to either of them, definitely not the former. Assuming either of you think I'm joking, remind me how many Ehials died to get you here?"

Seisora's jaw clenched. "Too many."

"And you, Inari? How many Felir? How many brothers and sisters did you lose in those fights? How many friends?"

She didn't answer.

"They were my friends too." He exhaled deeply, suppressing the thought. "Let's not waste it. Steven, you mentioned there's hair dye and spare clothes? We're going to have to change out of this armor. We can all contact each other at a later date. There's too much to discuss and it isn't a good time, not right now. The UFOs will get their bearings soon, and I have a feeling I'll be getting at least one uncomfortable phone call wondering where I am. Maya should have reported in by now, if my fuzzy memory holds."

Hasei and Riven shared a glance before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving the others to change. Steven really had gone all out, teleporting briefly away and returning with extra sets of clothes(both male and female), in case any of them, including Gale, had to change. When Seisora and Inari went to change, and the armor came off, they didn't look like ancient soldiers that could knock a man off a Rapidash with a well placed spear anymore. Just two really fit, twenty somethings.

Riven's size had mostly covered Seisora, while Gale's… not so much. Inari was a few inches taller and had broader shoulders, stretching the shirt she was wearing tight. She pulled at it uncomfortably, looking as miserable as a wet Furfrou. Gale stared at the tightness over the woman's chest, dreading to explain the wonders of choosing properly fitting underclothes, instead of wrappings. She was going to curse bras up down and sideways. Men had it easy. Steven suggested giving Inari one of the male shirts instead so she could breathe and Will could stop staring. Gale agreed that was for the best.

After fixing her debacle, Inari and Seisora stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. They felt incredibly odd wearing black while having little to no armor on, feeling not only like outcasts, but seemingly naked as well. They weren't too used to cotton shirts and denim jeans, it seemed. All Will could hear from the two was constant complaining about not wearing a certain color and that they'd be the shame of their class, blah, blah, blah. Steven vaguely reminded himself that Riven was like that too, at first. Well, not about the clothing but more about everything else.

"These shirts are so light!" Inari said, continuing to pull on it with exasperated grunts. At least the tightness was mostly gone. "I feel like I'm wearing nothing! And why do my pants have no pockets?! His do! What is this idiocy? Where am I supposed to keep weapons?"

"You… don't?" Gale put in hesitantly. "People don't really carry around knives and the like. Not much, anyway. Riven's an exception. I don't know where he keeps the things."

Inari fumed and debated incinerating the clothes out of frustration. The shirt wasn't squeezing her shoulders anymore, but men didn't have to worry about the chest area. She caught the boys sneaking glances a few times. "Who doesn't carry weapons around if you can't use your elements? Are you people insane? What if you get attacked?"

Steven scratched his head. So it isn't just Riven. The wilds must have been rough back then. He had five years to adjust, but he was a teenager in comparison. They're… way past that. This might be harder than I thought.

Seisora didn't seem to mind, slipping his hands into his jean pockets with a smirk. "I don't mind it much."

"Of course you don't!" Inari protested, growling.

"Clothing designers seem to think girls don't deserve pockets. That's why I buy male sizes, nothing a belt can't fix if it doesn't fit hip wise and nobody really cares about looking cute when you're dirty, smelly, and roughed up on a route. They're also looser and not as tight, except for the girls' area," Gale said, to which Inari grumbled with a trace of steam. "There's a solution to that too… but you're not going to like it."

"I am starting to hate this world," Inari said venomously.

Gale smiled in pity, both at the fire woman and herself when she thought about pulling her aside to explain the horrors of bras and boob sweat. She flinched when Inari huffed out a breath, trailing flames.

Deciding to avoid that problem for now, she looked at Seisora, then up at his hair, which was also done in an oversized Ponyta-tail. Her hair was shorter than that purposely, trying to keep it under control to UFO standards would be a nightmare and a half if she let it grow that long. He sat down, shifting awkwardly at the feeling of his new clothes, though not in outright annoyance like Inari currently was. Sure, Gale didn't much care for fashion these days, but the hairdo and the clothes clashed so badly with her mental image that she nearly twitched. Maybe if it was more modern he wouldn't stand out so much? He certainly had the cheekbones and regal facial structure of a prince—a nice, stylish haircut would go a long way. To make him at least not appear like he'd been extracted out of a film set. "Uh… by the way, I can cut your hair too, if you—"

"No."

"I mean it's really-"

"No."

Gale gave up, mouthing 'I tried', and went back to doing what the others were doing. Which was nothing actually. They were just sitting around in the dim light in complete silence. Eventually, the television had once again captured the time traveler's attention, keeping them glued to the screen. Will picked up the remote and changed the channel where a mystical Unovan period drama, the Haxorus Prince, was on, drawing interest from the two fish out of temporal water. Baron hovered around behind them in case another fight broke out, mildly watching the tv as well. He swayed on his feet, enjoying it.

The silence at least gave Steven, Gale, and Will some time to think.

Hasei and Riven came out the restroom, a shower cap on both of their heads. The dye needed time to work so for the time being, they sat down and joined the others in watching the show. Riven asked the two other time travelers if they found television fascinating, to which they noncommittally replied, eyes still glued to the screen. Cheaters, at least they came from a place with technology, albeit fancy crystal tech that didn't make much sense, but technology nonetheless. He'd been lied to his entire life in contrast and spent most of that time out in the wilds caked in dirt and dried up blood like a savage. Really wasn't fair, actually.

Then the phone call came in.

"Ah, here's where the fun begins," Hasei deadpanned. "The lying games."

"My mother should've come instead, then," Inari commented idly. "She loves those games."

"And you just love getting lied to," Seisora quipped. "Perfect mother daughter combination."

"Least my mother tries to make me feel better. Your father's an ass."

"Kiss each other later, now shut up," Riven urged. They both gagged. Looking at the caller ID, he cursed, inevitable as the call was. Well, could've been worse he supposed. "Hey, Allen. What's up?"

"Where are you?"

"Strange way of saying hello. I'm in Glacen Heights. Why, did something happen with the other leaders?" He tried his best to sound perfectly innocent. "Or is this about the fire? I'm watching it on the news right now."

Best acknowledge it now so Allen wouldn't try to gauge his response. Good thing the volume wasn't high enough for the operative to make out specifics. Don't laugh, he reminded himself, as the Haxorus prince engaged his mortal enemy with a flash of paired swords and blue dragon fire. Inari and Seisora oohed and ahhed, inching closer to the screen. He reprimanded them to keep quiet with a swishing finger.

Allen blinked, drawing up a mental map of Castelia. The image made his head spin as intuition and logic collided with each other. "Glacen? The Highrise? Why are you there? Wait, do you even have enough money to spend a night there on a gym leader's salary?"

"I do. At least once, though I'll probably be eating microwavable ramen for a week," Riven replied with a chuckle. "And considering I almost died today, I think spoiling myself for a few hours with a special someone isn't unreasonable." Oh man, he could just feel the operative frowning. The groan confirmed it.

"Gale's not in Black City, again? That girl's a damn handful. Will's less of a problem, I blame you." Riven chuckled guiltily as the operative hmphed. "Yates is going to strip someone's hide out if he hears about her sneaking off again. And I'm far too tired to tell a grown woman who she can see on her own time. Hello, Gale."

"Hi, Allen," she replied warmly, leaning over to speak into the holo caster. "How're, uh, things going?"

"Up in flames," the operative replied dryly. "Otherwise, just beyond out of control and just short of disaster."

Gale giggled.

"Umm, so just to get this straight you're not going to report me?" She asked with every bit of energy a kid had when a mother caught them reaching into a cookie jar. A dangerous, superhuman kid that had once been a sweet girl. Funny how life turned upside down. Just like today seemed to have an infatuation doing. Was killing his nerves, really.

"No… I think everyone needs a slight breather after today. I wasn't interrupting anything, was I? I can call back later… once you're, uh, done?"

"N-not at all, we're just watching the news right now," she explained quickly. She just knew he was currently drawing up all the concerns in the world and then some. He was like that. "He's treating me right, Allen. Don't worry. Is that why you called?"

"Not necessarily. I didn't know you were with him, though I should have expected it. When I got shot, and I woke up as me and not dead—there's very few things that make you glad to be alive. Getting a hole put in you the size of a golf ball is one of them. Some look for companionship, others a nice, long rest. Which I think I need right about now. My eyelids are closing on their own. I called because I was wondering… well, the trainee assigned to your boyfriend said she left him in the middle of Castelia, then an entire hotel goes up in flames an hour or two later. And I know better than to doubt his ability to draw disasters. Had a little feeling in my gut that kept nagging at me. Guess I was wrong."

Riven and Gale exchanged looks, trying not to panic. Jaw working, Riven straightened his voice. Hated not telling Allen the truth, but explaining things would make things more difficult right now. "Wait, you thought I set fire to that building? I'm across the bloody city!"

"I'm aware of where Glacen is," Allen added carefully. "Don't get angry. Thing is, I figured if something explodes or gets set on fire, or there's a ruckus, you'll be at the center of it. Some people attract trouble like Beedrill to honey."

"That doesn't sound like me," Riven said defensively. "You have me confused with someone else."

"A pokemon center computer with a human shaped dent in it says otherwise. I still don't think they've fixed that."

Riven was not going to snicker.

"Heh, well, wasn't me this time. I was surprised a random building in Castelia caught fire too. There's nothing of interest in that sector, isn't there? Why would someone set it aflame? Deranged arsonist?"

And before anyone really asked, he'd vehemently deny it. He didn't do it, not really. Quil did—the actual deranged arsonist that worshipped a non-existent fire deity. So he wasn't really lying… technically. Would hold up in court about as well as a piece of tissue paper to a flame but minor details. Besides, he'd rather spare Allen any more headaches and save the heart attack for later. At least the latter killed you fast. Allen's gonna be pissed when he finds out. And he will find out. Not looking forward to that, at all. And when he sees Hasei…

"That's exactly what I thought, too," the operative confirmed. "Doesn't make sense. There's no strategic objective at all; it may possibly be unrelated but I don't know... I'd like to believe some idiot with a fire pokemon got gung-ho and decided to carry out arsonist fantasies while the rest of us are preoccupied with not getting the gym leaders assassinated before the Challenger Rush but I'm not so sure." That wouldn't explain the deliberate evacuation, though. That many people evacuated via teleport… this isn't a regular arsonist. They have experienced pokemon, and one hell of a psychic.

And he knew damn well the partners assigned to most operatives weren't anywhere near strong enough for multiple teleports of bodies in that short span of time. Entire floors of sleeping people? They were barely able to transport their operatives across Unova more than twice in the span of a few hours. The other regions were a lot smaller than Unova was; there was a reason teleportation travel was restricted, winter being another. Some called it draconian, but few amateur psychic trainers understood why their partners dropped into a coma after trying too hard too fast. Someone strong was behind this, but who? An elite trainer on Caitlin's level?

Of course, Riven was staring right at him in all his suited glory with a grin wide enough to rival a Sableye. Had Quil been out of his ball, he'd be cackling. "How're the other leaders holding up?" Riven tried instead, diverting. "They see the news yet?"

"The ones still awake. Some of them couldn't sleep and we didn't have any melatonin. We banned them from using prescription drugs just in case, so they snorted sleeping powder as a substitute. Not sure how safe that is. Erica said nothing too bad would happen. Brawly practically ate a fistful of the stuff."

Riven and Gale made a choked noise. "Is… he okay?"

"He's a fighter, he'll be fine. But our ears aren't, the guy snores like an Exploud. It's obnoxious and it's annoying me, which is why I'm in a restroom talking to you and not in there. If Marshal decides to join him I'm resigning. The stories about his snores are a legend I wouldn't like to know about, ever. They vibrate the damn walls."

"Huh. At least that means they're not asking questions endlessly?"

"They tried, but hearing I don't know for the thirtieth time tends to make people stop asking. We have no idea what's going on and I'd like to keep the stress levels down before they spike back up in the morning when we have the briefing. All hell's going to break loose then. Good luck with Sela. When they find out how you became a gym leader after the absolute mess they went through, oh boy. If I were you? I'd show up fashionably late and apologize for missing out with a really sorry look on your face and hope they spare you."

"Dude, she's going to be living with me. Along with Viola. Who I'm hoping doesn't recognize me. But I doubt it. At some point, they're going to ask." Riven looked like he swallowed an eel. "I'm so screwed. Couldn't I have gotten Blaine or Bugsy or Jasmine, or… I'd take Sabrina at this point. Or Olympia, actually no, probably not that one. Definitely not Valerie. Who decided on the pairings?!"

"We used a hat. And folded up post-its."

"You're joking."

Allen couldn't help but chuckle.

"The universe hates me," Riven buried his face in his hands. He felt Allen shrug.

"Hey, it's not a total wash. Some of the operatives were jealous you got paired up with the pretty girls. Flannery, Viola, and Sela? Of course they have no idea how well and truly screwed you really are, I guess. Ah well, if you aren't the arsonist I'm looking for, then I'm afraid I should call it a night and hopefully I'll be able to sleep for an hour or two before the leaders start tearing into each other. Good luck to both of you, and have fun together… or with each other. That's mildly disturbing to think about, actually."

"He's better than I thought he'd be," Gale assured, grin wide. "After some practice."

"And I'm no longer listening," Allen replied, scrunching his face. "Stay out of trouble, and Gale? Make sure to be back reasonably soon before more hawk-eyed operatives notice you're gone and that you broke protocol. Again. Don't push your luck."

She frowned, exhaling dramatically. "I know, I know. But I can be a little rebellious."

"To see your boyfriend?"

"He walked into a shotgun, Allen."

He hummed, figuring that was a good point. "Sounds like you need to find less insane boyfriends. Just… be careful. I'll see both of you around."

"Bye, Allen," they both said as the line clicked off. Gale eyed Riven, chewing on her lip.

"He didn't sound convinced. That was too easy," she pointed out. "Allen's got really good intuition. And he let you off the hook just like that? He sniffs out crap way too well, he's not buying it at all."

Riven nodded, frowning. "Yeah, I know. But he doesn't have much else to go on either, so he's waiting for further developments and will grill me appropriately later if he finds them. Can't say I'm angry about it. I wouldn't trust me either. What happens in a day or two is anybody's guess, and I'm expecting another call when it happens. Or twenty."

"So that was the fabled phone call you kept prattling on about for years?" Seisora asked, pointing at the holo caster. "Why did that device not function like that before?"

"Because the network that lets it communicate across the world wasn't in existence then," Steven explained. "When he returned, the caster reconnected to it."

The water Origin made an 'ah' with his mouth. "It remembers? Just like Kras'vi?"

"Not remembers. Recognizes. Electronics and computers are a bit different than what you're used to. I'm sure you won't have as much an issue as Riven first did, though. Trying not to use your abilities might be more of a test, however." Steven tapped a finger against his knee. "I know this probably goes without saying, but just how reliant were you all on the amplification power the Offspring crystals provided?"

Seisora scoffed, as if insulted.

"Relied? Tch. Being weaker isn't all there is to battle, if that is what you mean. All that is needed is more flexibility. I cannot destroy entire buildings like I could in Naueilh, yes, but that does not mean that my spears cannot kill. Flexibility can be just as important as strength. Luckily, water is the element of adaptability and grace." Inari and Hasei rolled their eyes. Will joined them. Guy was like a human Milotic. "What I deduced from this restrictive situation was that I won't have a relatively easy time accessing water is all. Assuming we cannot keep our armor, if these… clothes are what people walk around in these days."

Obviously, Riven and Steven both opposed that wholeheartedly. Out of the question. Power amplification armor falling into the wrong hands? Nera and co. would have a field day; Loberia could potentially become unstoppable and there was no telling what Tesla was hiding, or how many Origins they had on their side. Best not risk it. Wearing armor also drew attention, which they definitely wanted to avoid at all costs. Best to blend in and pretend you were a regular joe just like everyone else, nevermind the fact that you were much stronger than the average person, or that your wounds healed a little too fast for a human. Or that pokemon based medicines actually worked and didn't obliterate the kidneys. The list went on.

"I see, then it just means I'll have to carry power with me, right?" He grinned smugly. "What better way to do that than get myself a beast that can create water for me to use? Or as you say, a pokemon? If only there was a way to fight like an Unpowered. Only there is, isn't there? Oh, yes—this world has an abundance of something."

Inari matched his smile. The red and white spheres clipped onto Riven, Steven, Will, and Gale's belts seemed to gleam in the dark.

"Pokemon and pokemon trainers. Along with plenty of pokeballs to capture them with. For six years Riven and our enemies showed us what they are capable of, and we realized how wrong we were about pokemon, still clinging to our old ways. But this is a new world. What's two more trainers that just so happen to have abilities, huh? Imagine the synergies we could have? I can't wait to start, there's so much to learn, so much to master."

Riven raised an eyebrow. "The teacher becomes the student?"

"An excellent teacher never stops learning," she replied.

"Wise words. Well, lucky for you two," he said. "We happen to have one of the strongest pokemon trainers on the planet in this very room. Maybe he can tutor you both? Most people would kill to train with a champion; consider it an honor if he accepts it." He turned to face Steven, eyes glittering. "But he won't do it for just any reason, right? What do they have to do to be considered? So they can become better than I ever was? I know the champ's retired, but what'll it take to bring him back? Not Steven Stone. Champion Stone."

Inari and Seisora looked to Steven, faintly surprised. They bowed, then kneeled. Respect to a more knowledgeable elder, and a request to learn. From two individuals at least thirty years older than he was!

Steven flushed for a moment, bidding them to stand up. Several decades old and still the possibilities of pokemon could instill childish wonder in even experienced killers and warriors. How magical his life had turned out. And to think he now considered this par the course now. What would he have told his younger self if he had the chance? That he'd be teaching time traveling superhumans in their sixties about how to care for baby pokemon? He held back a disbelieving snort.

"Don't sell yourself short, gym leader. As for you two… I was worried you'd want nothing to do with pokemon, given the state of your world. However, I'm glad you chose this path. Training is a good one, despite recent events in this world saying otherwise. It was the same one Riven chose several years ago, before a series of unfortunate events occurred and found himself embroiled in international politics and shady mercenary work. I've no doubt he'd have turned out an excellent trainer, but I'm also glad that the experience sobered him up, he was more bristly than a cactus and twice as abrasive. Training lends people to develop rugged individuality and some bad habits at times, not mentioning the lack of social skills, either. Seems like our troublemaker is more well-adjusted now, so it did some good."

Gale patted Riven reassuringly as he frowned. The former champion chuckled.

"Assuming you both decide to dedicate yourselves to this world and its ideals, then I'll train you both personally. Let me preface this by telling you something; this isn't like learning how to fight, or throw a spear or swing a sword. It isn't about you. It's about them." He held out a hand to Baron, the Gallade nodding in response and giving a green thumbs up. "These are living breathing beings worthy of respect and admiration, not tools to be used in a war like you are no doubt accustomed to seeing. Or tools to be used to impose your power on those less fortunate. Many trainers forget themselves these days. Pokemon will be friends. They will be family, through hardship and through peace. Want to fight for this world, for a future? Then show me. I was a pokemon champion, and if you are going to train under me, then I will train you properly, so you don't end up with a gang of misfits on your roster, like a certain person I know."

Riven shot him a dirty look.

"Only a certain type of person would ever consider having a Castform that knows hyper voice. How that little blob is so effective at murdering eardrums is unnatural. No, I will transform you two into what should have been. Origin and trainer; two worlds, now one. Though I must ask? Why did you come here, why were you entrusted with this? The hope of all of your people?"

He inched closer, his gaze piercing. It gave the other trainers goosebumps, seeing the normally placid Steven shift into champion mode.

"Inari and Seisora of Naueilh, teacher and protector—what is your mission?"

"To seek answers," Inari said, amber flame matching liquid metal. He shifted, meeting ocean blue. Waiting.

"To protect," Seisora answered. "What was."

"And what could be," she finished.

They faced him equally, fierce and determined as any trainer Steven had ever known. He'd seen that look before; in challengers, in leaders, soldiers, all of those brave enough to face a crisis bigger than they could have imagined. He saw himself in them, that spirit he'd left behind after the Magmas and the Aquas and the destruction they wrought. Zinnia and the crisis he needed Brendan for. Earlier that night, Riven forced him to remember. These tortured souls trekked through time and space, clawing their way out on a prayer having lost everything and still resolved to keep fighting. Maybe not broken, scarred, and dirty like Riven had been, but their losses were fresh, still raw. Despite their age, that would affect anyone.

He couldn't leave them out to dry. Former champion or not, he had a duty he'd sworn to uphold. A title had nothing to do with it.

Steel grey looked back at them, and they both saw not the well dressed stranger who introduced himself as just Riven's friend, but a man of power and conviction. A champion. In another world, he could have been a young king, holding the power over entire nations. And he had no elemental powers. None at all. Yet his gaze was as powerful as any Origin.

"What are you prepared to do?"

"Fight," they both answered. "It's all we have left."

He smiled, the action a challenge in and of itself. "Rise." Shook both hands as they rose, welcoming them as a champion would. "Welcome to the pokemon world and the present. Let's fight to keep it a place of beauty and prosperity for all lost travelers; past, present, and future. Does that sound like a challenge you both can accept?"

"Yes, sir," they answered in unison.

"Good," he said, brightly. "I've been told Origins are made of stronger stuff, and I can't seem to shake the urge to test that theory. If you're anything half as irrational and stubborn as Riven is, well—"

The placid smile on the former champion's face completely conflicted with the utter deviance in his eyes.

"We're going to be having quite a bit of fun."

Cold chills broke out along both their backs.

---

A bright sun loomed over the horizon as dawn broke, orange light glossing over the polished glass and steel of the Castelian skyline. It had been a while since he'd last been in Unova, during the previous world tournament years ago before… well, before a lot of things. The sky didn't change much, even in winter. Though how long that would last depended on whether what Riven warned would come later that day or tomorrow. He hoped, prayed, that Unovan Field Operations listened and kept everyone out, and that, for once in his life, the legendaries were merciful. Millions of people lived in Castelia… if something struck in the heart of the city…

He shook his head, leaning over the railing on the suite's balcony, absently staring out at the horizon where the sun was rising. He nursed a hot cup of coffee in his hands, hoping the clamoring would stop. Nerves. Beneath his clothes he could feel that piece of crystal attached to his chest, bringing out all manner of uncertainty. Coming into this it was simple to expect a litany of information he didn't have before, but to see the effects of time travel for himself; it was jarring, and horrifying all in one package. Seisora and Inari hid their pain well, just like Riven did all those years ago. Or still was, more than likely.

How can we stop what happened then from happening here?

Steven didn't know, taking a swig of the liquid.

The balcony door slid open and Riven stumbled out to join him, sleepily rubbing at his eyes. He yawned loudly. The bags under them were ever present, but at least he looked like he'd gotten some good sleep. Steven had noticed that Hasei had disappeared in the middle of the night, while Baron had taken Inari and Seisora out to the rooftops of several buildings, no doubt giving them a quick rundown of how surveillance in the modern world worked.

That sneaky Gallade had given both Gale and Riven a wink and thumbs up. Steven quickly got the message after that. Luckily, Glacen Heights suites came outfitted with world class soundproofing. A raging Rhydon would have trouble getting heard.

"Slept well?" He asked Riven, though from the state of him… "Or should I say, did Gale let you sleep?"

Riven waved sleepily, stopping as he realized what was said. Tanned cheeks helped hide the fluster. "I haven't slept that well in years. But no, I was so exhausted I fell asleep almost immediately. I didn't want to force her into anything, just having her there was enough. Six years I haven't seen her, and now she's there, sleeping without a care in the world. I know to her it hasn't been that long but… I spent twenty minutes watching her before I dozed off, like I was afraid I'd lose her again if I fell asleep. It's stupid."

"I don't think it is. Love often doesn't make sense. You're becoming quite the gentleman, Riven. Might have to get you fitted for a suit if you keep that up. Huh, you in a suit. That's a weird thought." Holding up his cup, Steven smiled knowingly. Leave it to a loving girl to temper brashness. Male fallibility at its best. I'm glad for him. Riven huffed in response, finding the idea humorous. "Seisora and Inari are still out with Baron? He did ask for some funds."

"Yeah, he dragged them to a restaurant to introduce them to the wonders of pancakes and syrup after rooftop surveillance lessons. First taste of the modern world. I hope they don't try to kill each other over breakfast though. That would be bad. For the restaurant, and your credit card."

Steven drank from his cup, horrified. "Are they actually that hostile toward each other or is it a love hate thing? All things considered, the two are incredibly attractive. Could just be an act. Wait, why do you look like that?"

Riven's expression could best be summarized as traumatized concern.

"Ummm. How should I say this? Uh, they're married."

The former champion stared, blinked several times, and took an even bigger swig of the mug. Then set the cup down on the edge of the balcony and wished it was something strong enough to make him forget what he just heard. "Riven… I nearly saw them murder each other last night. What do you mean they're married? What?"

"Political marriage," Riven said, wincing. "Uh, think several centuries ago. The nasty kind between two warring families? Err, clans? The ones that usually ended up in betrayal, coups, and tragedy? That kind of thing. Their parents made them do it, before they came over here, to ensure that the bloodlines wouldn't die out. Inari's mother even wanted her to have a child with me, if it came down to it. Can you believe that? Uh, Steven? Why are you holding a pokeball like that?"

"Shut up, I'm still deciding whether or not I should throw you over the balcony still." Steven gripped the bridge of his nose so hard he left finger marks. "So, you entrusted two superhumans that were married against their will to me, who would sooner murder each other than be friends. And now you want me to give them pokemon? Are you insane?"

Riven raised a finger, dumb founded. "It sounds worse than it is?" Steven groaned and debated switching the coffee for alcohol right there, morning be damned.

"Now I see why Birch took a liking to you, you're both perfectly suited for giving me heart problems," Steven lamented. "How bad do they dislike each other, exactly? Apart from the occasional deathmatch, as I've seen."

"Well, I've known both for years and they don't even like being in the same room or they'll come to blows. Class separation between the types was more of a cultural thing back in Naueilh, but it did exist. The Ehial and Felir really didn't like each other. Inari is generally open minded, but Seisora isn't. His father was a very strict man, to say the least. His sister utterly despises Kalosoren and was extremely disappointed in Seisora trying to please their father. It's not entirely his fault. He grew up a certain… type of way. Not having had a father for most of my life, I wouldn't understand." He winced slightly. "Honestly despite that, though, I still wouldn't want to be locked in a room with him anyway. He can grate on you. Inari, on the other hand—she's a lot more pleasant."

"Not because she's a beautiful woman, by any chance?"

"Got nothing to do with it. She used to teach kids for nearly a decade. Kids with the ability to shoot rocks out of the ground, mind you. She's just really patient, easy to talk to. Except when she tried to sear my eyes out with flame daggers after getting brainwashed by a psychic. That wasn't so pleasant. She's generally agreeable though."

"Ah, I… guess I should've seen that one coming," Steven remarked, having figured Riven was complimenting a little too freely.

"Keep them distanced and in range of Meta's psychic, like two overgrown idiotic children with deadly elemental powers and you should be fine. Who knows, maybe they'll develop something more if they journey together, right? I've heard of trainers hating each others' guts ending up nice and close several years down the line. Hey, that reminds me! What about you, huh?" Riven countered. "I mean, you're practically a poster child for pretty boy, Steven. Flannery's in my group." He said in a sing-song voice. "I could maybe work something out for you two again. My condo is pretty spacious." He ribbed him gently with an elbow, waggling eyebrows. "I think you need to unwind some too. After what those two are going to put you through, trust me, you'll need it."

"I'm not answering that," he returned stiffly.

"Hey, just a suggestion. Your loss. There's a reason she appears in Trainer Weekly so frequently, you know." Steven sighed. Riven leaned on the railing, looking out into the distance. "Saw one of the old editions from several years ago while I was bored in my gym, now that I remember. You were on it, wearing a battle suit and everything. It had a cape. 'Ten essential tips for steel type grooming!' I didn't know steel types can rust."

"They do if their coat isn't maintained often. I remember that photo shoot," Steven said. "I asked if I could keep the outfit."

"Did you?"

"Of course, I wore it for Halloween in Ever Grande the following year. Still have it in my closet, actually. That was a fun experience. I kind of miss those events now. All I attend now are board meetings and high class events with too much wine and rich people. I never feel comfortable there."

"Caves are more your thing, I remember. Did the fangirls go wild in Ever Grande?" Steven cringed. Riven thought about Burgh's insistence on wearing flashy outfits to social gatherings and snickered. "To be honest, I'm not surprised the teenage trainers swooned over you back in your day after that display last night. Man. Intense. Where was that Steven all those years? Could've scared me into being a better person back when I was still a brat."

"With that head made of Teflon? It'd bounce off completely."

"Long as it hits you on the way back," Riven grinned. "Besides, I think I gained a great deal more self control. I'm used to pretty boys' and girls' wiles by now. Felior tested me to my absolute limits, believe me."

"Tested an absolute ladies man like yourself?" Steven teased, "Say it isn't so. The men on the other hand must've had quite an effect, however…"

"Fuck you, Steven," Riven said, laughing alongside him. "Seriously though, that was… impressive. I mean it. I always knew you were a champion with how strong your pokemon were. But that was something else. It's like something came alive in you again. What changed?"

Considering the question, Steven fell into thought, crossing his arms over the railing. "That dark influence of yours, oddly enough."

"Huh?"

"Yours and Hasei's. The grief and the anger. Made me remember why I left the Champion's seat in the first place. It was so… fresh in my mind. After Kyogre and Groudon went on a rampage… I had to see so many broken families. The droughts, eruptions, earthquakes, and floods went on for days. Hoenn alone sits on several tectonic plates, and Groudon went and started nudging them because it was angry." He clenched a fist and forced down his own anger. "Tsunamis finished what the floods started. The coastal cities were hit the hardest. It almost broke me. When that infuriating woman from the Draconids came to Hoenn and started making everything worse, I realized I had to take a break. I was getting irritable, and I wasn't myself. I resigned after that."

Which had been several years ago now.

Pretty long break, Riven thought. Steven hadn't been the Hoenn champion in years. Ruby—err, Brendan— and a girl named Sapphire had challenged Steven and beat him after several attempts, with neither having the attention span to actually do anything the champion had to be responsible for—which resulted in a vacancy that had automatically defaulted back to Steven anyway. He'd been champion until he resigned shortly after what was known in Hoenn as the Delta episode. Then Wallace took over and had been champion since. From what he'd gathered over the years, the position was starting to drain Wallace too. Stopped wearing those garish outfits, for one.

"Team Magma and Team Aqua took me out of the scene. Now a water Origin and a fire Origin are bringing me back in. Life works in stranger ways than even the legendaries at times. Or is it some kind of invisible test we're not aware of, to put our characters through the trials of life and see where we come out on the other side?"

"I wonder that myself sometimes. You think the Arcean cult is right about him testing people? Arceus himself? Seems outlandish. They're kind of crazy."

"I don't think someone with your qualifications should be accusing other people of that." Riven flipped him the finger. "Besides, with the Legendaries being what they are and how wacky our world has gotten recently, anything is possible. I thought time travel was outlandish too, until I met you. Now who knows? Things could have gone worse for me, personally," Steven added quietly. "I still have my team, my friends. Cynthia on the other hand… I hope she's doing better these days, wherever she is. I wish I could talk to her again. I missed my chance back when the Sinnohan gym race kicked off."

Come to think of it, Riven had read somewhere that Steven and Cynthia had dated briefly, going separate ways because of their obligations. That made Steven's forced calm even more sullen than it appeared. Riven tried his best to recall the scattered bits of information he'd gleaned over the years. His time in the previous era had largely dulled them, but he found bits and pieces coming back to him. One thing was for certain, though.

"Sinnoh was a mess. I can see it in the leaders that replaced Wake, Gardenia, Candice, and Byron. They're jumpy, like I was. If we can't handle things here, will they fight, or will they crack? Makes me nervous considering I'm a gym leader too now, and I tend to forget I'm not invincible even when I heal faster than most. Getting shot and spending time in the past made me realize that in painful detail."

He gripped his left arm for a moment, the fingers flexing for a moment. A fist clenched and unclenched, slowly. Steven eyed it, concerned.

"Baron didn't get that scar trying to impress a girl," he said. "He got it protecting me from a Salamence, took a dragon claw to the face to get it off me. It shattered my arm. It's supposed to be fully healed, but I still get phantom pains, years later." He stared at the limb, catching Steven's concern. Leaning on the railing again, he shook his head.

"Riven… are you okay?"

"Nobody's okay. The ones that are haven't gotten kicked in the teeth yet. I haven't been okay for a very long time, Steven," Riven replied ruefully. There was a sadness in his eyes he hadn't seen before. "Sometimes it feels like I'm going to tear at the seams. Glue's wearing off."

Steven was honestly thrown off by how readily Riven had admitted to that. He was usually defensive and prickly about everything. To see him so open… The jarring suddenness of his return was compounded by the niggling fact that this was a man who'd spent several years in another chaotic time period, while for him it had literally been minutes in comparison. To everyone from the present, actually. From his perspective, Riven physically remained the same thanks to his physiology, though that was undeniably false at this point. He had changed, and who knew if it was for better or worse. "The fighting. Was it like last time?"

Riven nodded, solemn. "Worse in some ways. The desperation, mainly. I was stuck just as much as they were. I grew with them, through the battles, the raids, and the operations. All for a little bit more time. Always stalling. Just to leave them behind. Just like I did Nemos. Yanine. I had a ticket back. They didn't."

Steven settled a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Feeling guilty over being alive won't get you anywhere, Riven. I'd know that. All we can do is move on. Whatever happened over there… there's only so much a person can take. Nobody would blame you if you took time off—nobody really knows what we're fighting for, or who we're fighting. Take some time off, enjoy being a leader. Never did get much of a chance with only five badges."

"Seven, actually, if you count Lenora and Burgh's. A sunny beach in Johto sounds comforting, but no. No vacations. I have to do this. My primary goal was always getting answers, and every clue I find brings me closer. I can't stop now, as much as I'd like to. After what I've seen." The gym leader let go of his shaking arm, simply staring off into the distance, where the sun shone over the high-rise skyscrapers that constituted downtown Castelia. "Did I ever mention I'm glad I met you, Steven? You and Birch?"

Startled, the other man couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Is this the same person that smashed my face into a table when we first met? That scornful, cynical, violent kid?"

"I'm still me. Though a little older now," Riven replied with a laugh. "I just—I don't know. Maybe I'm going through a midlife crisis? I am almost technically thirty now with the whole time travel thing. Getting pretty old. You start thinking about some abstract things at this age, according to the tabloids and the books. Heh, looks like they were right."

"Please, your midlife isn't for another four hundred years if those two are anything to go by. Thirty is not old, especially not for you," Steven said defensively. Riven grinned at that. Steven nodded after a moment, the humor fading. "Hasei mentioned some of what happened while his aura went haywire. I'm sorry, if it's any consolation—it was my fault in the first place."

"No, it wasn't. Stop saying that. I don't think I could ever fault you for that. Celebi practically had you hostage and the knowledge gained was worth it alone. I paid my dues, and honestly, I'm glad for everything you've done for me, Steven. And the others. Without you and Birch… I don't know where I'd be. Still angry and bitter and distrusting, probably. Coming from that world and seeing what I did… it changes a person's perspective. I was a child in my original time. Not much to process there, or experience in comparison. Just wilderness, battles, and dead people and pokemon. I thought being a soldier was all there was to life. Now I know better. Better things.

He tapped the pokeballs on his hip.

"The Rosans we fought didn't murder my family and raze the city. They were kids too, barely breaking into their twenties. Sent to some backwater assignment to clean up a nuisance. The real serious ones, the pyrolancers and such, could have eradicated us with little effort. Seeing a whole new world as an adult and watching it crumble—it leaves behind something. It's just… sad. My other half isn't here to rationalize it anymore, and I feel like I'm being strangled, because I miss the people back there knowing I'll probably never see them again. Or their cultures. That unique energy they had. All of that didn't seem to matter when I was younger, consumed by a thought process governed by my own loss. Now I sort of understand those psychos, the Sayres, because I was kind of the same way. Would I be just like one of them if I was born here and lost a pokemon? I joined an army as a kid not even in his teens for the same reasons. Violence was our answer. In most ways it still is. I'm not really all that different."

"Yes, you are," Steven refuted. Riven glanced at him, as if asking why. "Simply because Sayre followers are full of children with shoddy ideals, thinking they know best when they misuse the power they were given. You are neither stupid nor cowardly, despite whatever deprecations you have about yourself. Different time periods have different issues, and yours was not comparable to this. Who you are was a result of the state of the world—these kids lost their way, they didn't live through any of the atrocities you did, and still you don't haphazardly murder innocents over a vague ideal thought up by mad children. They weren't born in such violent times—victims of misfortune perhaps, but they chose to be that way. Before, I couldn't see the Riven from five years ago ever become a gym leader. I'd have rejected the recommendation in the loudest voice I could possibly produce. Now? I can see it. You moved heaven and earth to make sure that someone made it out of that time period alive. So they wouldn't die in vain. So they could be remembered. You didn't give up even after being stranded in time. And you still aren't. Rather than give in to your rage and lash out violently at anyone you could direct it at, you chose to move forward and restrain that rage. That's courage. Insane? Some could argue. Madness, even. But brave. And I believe you'll be an excellent gym leader, too. Elesa was always a good judge of character. I trust her choice more so now. You just have to convince the rest of the world that. Starting with your gym group. No pressure, obviously."

"Oh yeah, no pressure all right. I'm sure that'll be a cinch to do. Morty seems okay, but if I told Sela she'd probably rip my arms off, with Viola and Flannery following suit; one for leaving Gale with my pokemon for four years and the other for being a mercenary posing as a paragon of the training world," Riven said dryly, crossing his arms and staring up at the sky. He blew out a long breath."…so screwed."

"Don't worry, I believe in you."

The fact that Steven had said that with unflinching confidence and genuine belief made Riven feel a little less self-conscious about his own ability to be a good role model to children in control of super powered animals. Now he had to live up to the name. God damn his charisma! "You sure champions don't have some kind of inspiration aura? Careful flaunting that or I'm going to turn into one of your fangirls. The body pillow and everything kind."

Ah, the second greatest within the ranks of the church of fangirls. Right behind the ones that wanted to kill you. Steven's face contorted in horror.

"I take it back. You suck. Please don't buy a body pillow with my face on it. Whatever you see online, I didn't know what the shoot was for. I was set up against my will." He paled, wishing for death at the slip. Riven went still, breaking out into disbelieving laughter.

"Wait, are you saying those actually exist? Oh my god, I was joking! I have to check now. Maybe I'll order one for my training day."

The former champion let out a mock sigh of dread, his mood improving upon noting that Riven was a lot more relaxed than he used to be. It was almost odd that the guy had calmed down so much. Maybe all he needed really was more time to learn and grow—something he'd been deprived of for years. It certainly showed. He never realized he'd remembered his training day.

The screen door opened and Gale stepped outside, her brown hair pulled back clean into a nice Ponyta-tail. She was dressed in her trainee uniform with no evidence present that she had spent the night. Surprising how fast the girl got ready, considering she'd just woken up. Military training tended to instill that sense of immediacy. Riven almost swelled with pride, waving hello.

"Ah, you're up," Steven said warmly. "Have a good night sleep after certain activities?"

"The best. And for your information, Mr. Champion, we did a whole lot of sleeping." Gale blushed lightly at the rising of a grey eyebrow, laughing as she muttered, 'boys'. She squinted at the horizon and whistled. "No wonder this place costs so much. The horizons and sunsets are breathtaking. Anyway, I heard you two laughing. What's the scoop?"

Riven was about to open his mouth before Steven shoved him, still smiling warmly if a little forced. He recovered smoothly, swaying with the shove. "Ah nothing, just teasing Steven about how he was going to work up the nerve to talk to Flannery again. I can make several suggestions to her that I know a strong, handsome battler that's one of her biggest fans." He prodded Steven with an elbow, much to his annoyance. "I could try and bring them to strike up a conversation again, since she's in my group. Pretend like I don't know they know each other and then I give them the Kalosian slip and make myself scarce. I've got a spare guest room too. Not soundproofed like this place here, obviously, but it'll do when things heat up."

He clapped his hands together suggestively. Gale snorted. Steven twitched. "Oooh, Riven the wingman. Think she'll recognize you? She still remembers Lavaridge's incident, you know. Gives her nightmares. Not many people forget seeing a guy get brained with a knife. She saw you at her gym right before that, right? Also, didn't Steven literally roar at you for that?"

"I did."

"He did," Riven admitted mareepishly. "I was… a little set in my ways then." A grey eyebrow arched for emphasis. "Okay, very set in my ways. Still a stupid teenager at the time with too much anger and not enough sense. I don't think she ever got a good look at me after the gym battle, though. At least not after the officials hauled me off to the hospital in cuffs. Kind of had a mop for hair also. Slouched a bit too, now that I think about it. And the snappiness, oof. With the haircut, tan, matching eyeballs, and general adult-ness I've gained, I doubt she recognizes me. Wait, you didn't tell her that the guy you were waiting for for years was me, right? Isn't she still pissed about that? And with Sela in my group…"

He froze, suddenly very afraid for his life.

"Poor you. You're lucky she never asked for specifics when I asked her for tips on raising fire pokemon. She did look a little angry when I told her Aine wasn't mine. I might've sourly told her someone shoved her into my arms and fled. Probably thinks you're a deadbeat trainer. Sorry about that." Riven flinched. "Luckily for you, though, I only ever told her you were a tall guy with black hair and brooding issues. Narrowed that down real well there. You're welcome, dark boy. Your adult-ness is welcome too."

"What did I do to deserve you?" He asked stupidly.

"Entertained me," she grinned. "Your girly screams give me life."

He eyed the balcony warily. "You're evil."

He frowned unhappily as she reached up and kissed him, laughing as she pulled away with a happy grin on her face. Steven cleared his throat. "Do I have to leave before you two decide to start shedding clothes or can I enjoy my sunrise and steaming coffee a little more? I need a clear mind to think about how I'm going to keep two incredibly experienced, married Origins from maiming each other." The other two apologized, blushing. He raised the coffee mug. "Thank you."

"Wait, Seisora and Inari are married?" Gale gaped. "Wait, weren't they trying to kill each other?"

"Political," Steven pointed out. Her mouth formed an ah.

"That explains a lot. Opposing types too. Yikes. You're going to have your hands full, aren't you, Steven?"

"Don't I know it," he said with a long sigh. "Will you be returning back to the operative headquarters, then?"

"Unfortunately. I have some time thanks to the ops being tied up but someone's bound to notice I'm missing soon. Will took off already. Allen covered for me for a bit, so that's something. Yates won't be happy about an asset going wherever she pleases, though. Not that he can really stop me, I guess? He can take away my partner, which would suck. I really like her and teleport is just so incredibly useful."

"Can't relate," Riven complained under his breath.

"Where are the others, anyway?" She asked, having noted the empty suite. "The married duo still not back yet? God that's just weird. Political marriages. Yuck."

"They're eating breakfast down at a diner with Baron. His idea, so I gave them a credit card. It'll do them good to start getting used to cafes and restaurants for a morning snack. It's what normal people and trainers would do," Steven answered, pulling up a picture on his phone. Baron had taken it several minutes ago, showing Seisora and Inari glaring burning holes at each other over a mouthful of pancakes and eggs. He noticed the unease in her body language when she tried to ask about the other one and frowned. "In case you're wondering about Hasei… he hasn't come back at all. I don't think he will, either. Your presence, Gale… pains him. Riven, you are aware of that, no?"

"Yeah… We talked about it. In the other world. He wasn't too thrilled and I don't blame him, that kind of situation doesn't really happen and it's not his fault. He knows that and it must hurt to accept it. He just needs to find himself. Be away from the both of us for a while until his own personality starts to cement and he moves on, find another girl to crack open that heart. He's still more me than him, if that makes sense. I can't pretend I'm not worried about him, because I wasn't a model of responsibility a few years ago either. Did he tell you about the plan? We spent months working on it, brainstorming with the other time displaced. Two of us can accomplish much more than one."

Another sip from the coffee and Steven nodded in affirmation. "Posing as Prime. It'll be efficient for our purposes, given he looks exactly like you and has your mannerisms, but I'm afraid of what a violent life could end up doing to his psyche, given the basis of it. There's a lot of pent up anger in there suppressed by maturity and rational thought. But we all know all it takes is one bad day. We criticize the Sayres for it, and yet we're going to allow one of our own to gallivant around like that? Being a gym leader is your anchor, Riven. Nathan can't go out murdering people. Mercenaries have none. I don't like what it could mean should he change. How would we even stop him?"

Riven thought about it, conflicted. "He won't be like them. He won't hurt innocent people."

"How do you know that for sure? Didn't you say he liked hurting people?"

"No, he doesn't. Not really. He enjoys the fight, not the pain inflicted. He was a child's creation, remember? Swearing and mocking people is what kids do. Consequences aren't something they think about. His whole personality was a reflection of me at that age. When I first started training I wasn't exactly mature myself either—my experience growing up made it worse. I didn't trust anybody, I was maniacally paranoid—well, I still am kind of—and I threatened everybody on principle. Being abrasive never helped me and it won't help him. I never wanted to hurt people either, just the ones that deserved it."

"That can be rationalized in very unhealthy manners."

Riven grunted an affirmation. "You can say that about a lot of things, but he's me. Or he was. He didn't start growing until after Efrain cleared up the mental block I had placed on myself, so he was still stuck in that old mindset. When we split, Charles used my adult psyche to stabilize his juvenile depravity, it's what's holding him back. He's barely recognizable from his old self. He won't do it."

"You don't sound convinced. What if he does?"

"Then I'll train a fairy pokemon."

"To control him?"

Riven looked at him. "You know why. Just like pokemon, my kind is dangerous. A Sayre follower is scary because of their anonymity, but largely useless without their pokemon and their weapons. An experienced Origin going off the deep end is magnitudes worse. If Will had gone like that…" He clearly struggled with the idea. He had been ready to kill him back on Mt. Pyre. "We made a mutual promise. Trust me, please?"

Regarding him for several moments, Steven's jaw clenched. He and Gale exchanged uneasy glances, the girl's expression darkening. "I'm planning to brief the other two on Tenebris once they get back," he continued, his tone businesslike. He hadn't given Riven his approval; that much was expected. Steven didn't believe killing Hasei would fix the matter, and Riven hoped it never came to that. "After that, I'll be heading to Black City and give Birch a call to set our resident superhumans up with starter pokemon. He'll be excited for that."

"Black City? Why there?"

"I know some people there who can help me set those two up, and help me with other things. They're trustworthy, and someone has to take a look at that armor. And those crystals. That technology could shine light on the secret of mega evolution, crystallization, and key stone formation if nothing else. It could revolutionize technology and its capabilities as we know it."

"Promise you'll be careful with the armor. Analyze it, study it, and lock it the hell away. All of it. Relabel any documents and photographs—black it out, burn them, or make only one copy of the things, then use amnesia on anyone who knows about it, up to and including yourself after you've hidden it. Singularity is incredibly resourceful, if they can find out, they will. We didn't bring an Offspring spear for that same reason—too destructive. Didn't want to risk it. And you can't find something you don't ever have the knowledge of hiding, even subconsciously."

Without hesitation, Steven agreed. It was best to be careful in the event that he was captured. The only way to prevent psychic extraction of information from a person's mind was not to know it at all. The armor was beautiful, certainly, but didn't appear to do much more than protect the wearer. He knew better than to assume of appearances, however, given the orbs that incensed the weather duo didn't look like much at all either.

He'd learned that mistake too.

When the other two returned with Baron several minutes later, Steven had gotten right to work, giving the Origins the full rundown on Tenebris with as much simplicity as they could understand. Once he was done, the two crossed their arms, pensive.

Super enhanced pokemon infected by a seemingly sentient disease that had a baffling response to human presence. Any kind of human presence. While that may have surprised anyone from the modern day, Inari and Seisora both grumbled as if bothered more by the sheer amount of issues that plagued this time period than the actual revelation itself.

Riven didn't find it as unnerving as Steven did, because the wild pokemon in Naueilh's era were much, much stronger than the norm found these days, and twice as aggressive. Pokemon rangers policing the routes and driving away destructive pokemon for decades had largely created a stable codependency between human trainers and the pokemon in those routes, who normally tended to flock to the worn and well-travelled stretches of wilderness that trainers frequented in exchange for being less vulnerable to predators. Stronger pokemon thus tended to retreat into deeper wilderness, while weaker pokemon appeared far closer to civilization except in areas where stronger pokemon were left alone because they posed less of a threat to the trainers there, which coincidentally were in areas with tougher gym leaders and more experienced battlers.

Ever Grande and Opelucid came to mind.

When exceptions to that rule appeared, such as starter areas like Santalune and Oldale where a majority of starter trainers were kids not even in their teens yet, rangers sorted them out quickly enough, or the Champion. Strong, vicious pokemon terrorizing beginner routes took far more precedence with the authorities, for obvious reasons. Go in, prevent kids from getting ripped apart and training environment preserved. Or so that was the idea anyway. Higher leveled areas were often left to themselves, considering most trainers that passed through there were strong enough to hold their own. But something was bound to screw up somewhere, and screw up bad.

Snowpoint.

The offending pokemon wasn't dealt with, either through negligence on behalf of the gym leader, or indifference from the champion, specifically because it had been near a high level area—it killed another trainer who wasn't at all prepared for it and happened to be related to an emotionally unstable sibling who had incredibly strong pokemon and a whole lot of repressed issues.

And snap. A wonderful chain of events that then sparked the Sinnoh Incident and the resulting Cult of Sayre. One. Bloody. Time. One. Horrible. Day.

It had almost happened to Riven with the Scyther, and then again in Santalune. Both times he had dealt with the resulting problem, almost at the cost of his own life. What would have happened if he'd died and the Scyther went on to kill more trainers who had stronger siblings? Would they get revenge too and blame the League? In practicality, it made perfect sense why the Kalosian League had contracted a merc to deal with the Pangoro. They weren't stupid.

A stray thought came, subtle as a brick through a window.

What if that Abomasnow had been an Aberrant and infected with Tenebris? No, that couldn't be. The pokemon would've given even Sayre's team a hard time if that was the case. The victims' main cause of death had been massive blunt force trauma, naturally, but they'd been relatively intact. As intact as crushed skulls, shattered spines, and decimated bones went by that definition. Not an unnatural result for something like an Abomasnow, which regularly displayed that it had more than enough strength to produce such a result. A Tenebris enhanced version, on the other hand, may not have even left behind recognizable human pieces, let alone an entire body.

The present wasn't used to the raw wilderness like the past was. The Origin world the Naueilhi lived in was absolutely marked by roving pokemon strong enough to make mince meat of any Unpowered caught wandering outside city limits. Many traveling merchants did find themselves ripped to shreds by predators or burned to ash by wandering dragons on the prowl. Linoone were a force to be reckoned with, and here they were jokes. It would take a lot of coaxing to get Inari and Seisora to travel on the routes without their armor. Actually, it'd give him pause too, since it'd become like a second skin.

One thing at a time, he thought, shelving it.

With explanations finished and the rest of the crew ready to disperse, Gale excused herself, waved goodbye, and stepped off the balcony. Emile soared into the sky a moment later and within a minute, the girl was gone, weaving through Castelian skyscrapers. Riven followed, giving a friendly wave to them all as Efrain emerged from his shadow and he threw a sword out to open air, disappearing and emerging several hundred feet away as a speck against the morning sun.

Inari pointed at the balcony. "I know Riven is fond of that sword trick I have seen a hundred times but are your allies unaware of what a door is? I can demonstrate if needed."

Steven gave her a small, wry smile. "You'll get used to it. Higher level trainers have their quirks. Psychics used for teleportation, and birds or dragons for flight are more commonplace but those with more eccentric traveling methods are fairly common as well. Get yourself a ghost and you can travel via shadow sneak too, if that's your preference."

Seisora was still looking out the balcony, wondering if he could jump out too. Inari's noticed and got an idea, fire sparking out of her palms. Steven recognized the glimmer in her eyes but couldn't really stop her in time. With a running start, she flung herself off the railing. She hovered in the air as fire rocketed out of her soles, a burst of flame propelling herself back in neatly in front of Seisora, viciously proud of what she'd done just to spite him. And preened mockingly. The water Origin scowled and Steven had to stop him with Meta's psychic before he tried to do the same and ended up a pile of human sauce on the floor outside the hotel.

"Don't do that without any pokemon!" Steven admonished, dumbstruck and looking frantically outside to see if there were any witnesses. "Not only do you risk being seen doing the impossible, but not having a bird or flying pokemon would be very inconvenient should you be unable to break your fall. I don't care if you can use jet propulsion. Normal, remember?"

"Riven doesn't have a bird," Seisora pointed out briskly, half scowling. "He has complained incessantly about this for several years. Like it was our fault the idiot was born immune to teleportation. Transporting him was an ordeal I would not be too keen on repeating."

"He still hasn't done anything to solve it?" Seisora shook his head. Steven wasn't surprised. "Of course not, the lazy fool. He is a self-proclaimed hypocrite of massive proportions and adamantly continues to prove it. Try not to listen to him too much, he's hardly a source for sound ideas. He has practice with that Doublade of his. That trick could easily kill someone who isn't ready for it, and getting rid of the acceleration from free fall requires some imagination. Riven may not look like it, but he read quite a lot of textbooks during his time here, I would advise reading up as much as you can also. I'm sure he got quite a few scrapes when he first started out. I've seen some trainers use their pokemon to hydro pump them across gaps, and while it is a possibility to use some pokemon that way, I personally wouldn't recommend that lunacy unless you like having broken bones. Just get a flying pokemon before you decide to throw yourself out of windows several stories high or get a Blastoise to hydro pump you into a tree. It'll save me a heart attack."

For a seven decade old warrior of the past, Seisora sure did pout like a ten year old that just got denied their starter of choice. He grumbled about wanting a dragon. A big, elegant, and strong water dragon. Inari heard this and immediately declared that she wanted a Charizard because Riven had at one point told her that they were cool and extremely powerful. And they could also fly. And it was a fire dragon. Some things really didn't change when it came to trainers wanting outlandish pokemon they weren't prepared to handle yet.

"We'll start you both off small-"

"Charizard." Inari repeated, immovable.

"Water Charizard," Seisora countered, absolutely sure that if a fire Charizard existed, then via logical conclusion, a water one had to as well. They both settled into an identical stance of unmoving childish want, glaring daggers at each other. The marriage became painfully clear to him now.

Dread blossoming in his stomach, Steven realized that no amount of inspiring speeches would make this easier for him—Riven's insanity was contagious, and he could barely babysit him! He just prayed the gym leaders in his group wouldn't quite tear their hair out managing it. He also prayed that by the end of this he didn't pull out his own hair trying to get these two to listen. What pokemon would even be suited for people like them? An experienced one? Or a baby? He rubbed his head, dreading everything. He could already hear Birch's boisterous laughter, no doubt having some sort of troublemaking baby pokemon to hand off already. If the League knew exactly who he was handing out training licenses so willy nilly to, he'd have had his professor privileges revoked immediately.

How would Seisora react if his first pokemon rebelliously shot water in his face, as was the common water type trainer experience? They often squelched into pokemon centers their first few days, that's how easy it was to identify water starters. Steven's mind came to the white bundle of sheets Seisora had hydrokinetically punted out of the window. He paled.

"Maybe two Dunsparces will work…"

---

Breaking his speed with some rather complicated maneuvers so he didn't dislocate his arm after being suspended in freefall for several minutes, Riven hit the rooftop of an adjacent building some distance away from the Castelia City hotel, rolling to disperse the force of his fall. Dusting himself off, he released his team at once, planting his arms on his hips with glee as Efrain whirled around him, kicking up a slight breeze for added visual flair. Taking in their surroundings, realization—and joy—began to spread on their faces.

They immediately went ballistic.

Haona cried, kissing the rooftop. "Oh my god it's a rooftop! On a skyscraper!" She rubbed her fur on it and fell over, reveling in it like an oversized Shinx.

Spoopy clacked happily, his mandibles inspecting a rooftop vent with nostalgic interest. He scuttled rapidly across the rooftop and starting spinning webs around the place, apparently missing the feeling of present day architecture. And free flowing electricity! His multiple eyes bulged with anticipation, and he made several happy clicking noises to get Riven's attention.

"Can I feast?" He asked, vibrating excitedly. "Trainer please, please, please!" Riven smiled and let the spider indulge itself, waving a hand to signal the go to. Squealing with glee, the Galvantula pried open the electrical panel and eagerly started draining the electricity out of it. Like handing a kid a juice box.

Tai had likewise excitedly begun to sniff the air, breathing in deeply, and Aine and Omy—now a Zebstrika—had excitedly hugged each other at the sight of skyscrapers made of metal and glass. Baron merely grinned, their excitement infectious. Even that scary bladed ghost Efrain started chuckling, clearly amused.

"Striiiii?" Omy asked, her head now towering over her trainer's. "We're back in Unova?! Really?!"

"Yup, it worked! We're not dead!" Riven exclaimed. "We're back! Can you believe that? Charles did it! You're home. We're home! You're going to meet Elesa again, girl. Burgh too. Maybe now you'll kick his Scolipede's ass, yeah?"

Omy cheered, a jolt of electricity traveling down her mane that made Riven's fingers tingly.

His pokemon followed her example, forgetting about their amazement as the gym leader found himself smushed under several hundred pounds of pokemon and armor, his circulation beginning to fail. Wheezing, he made it to his feet and squinted out into the horizon. Castelia didn't have the freshest air around, but damn did it feel good to be back. Taking a full, satisfying breath into his lungs, he reclined backward, using the flat side of Efrain's blades as a backrest, enjoying the cool morning breeze.

After several minutes of lazing around with most of his pokemon still sporting armor, metal plating, and various leather fittings from the previous era, Aine came to a realization. She pointed it out with a cry, a claw facing him. Being the perceptive one, she naturally remembered their predicament before the rest of the team got their bearings.

"Weren't you a gym leader before we left? Where's Boagrius anyway, is he still in his ball?"

"Yeah, he is. And I still am a gym leader," Riven reminded, still reclined on Efrain. The ghost barely seemed to mind. "It's only been several hours after we left, technically. So the others should still think I just got cleared from the hospital. Don't say anything to anyone, or their pokemon! I'm not releasing Boagrius until I'm in the gym or at home. You know why. He'd break every window and glass in the vicinity, then try to sing a ballad about our brilliant escape from the clutches of time and then burst into another song while spinning in the air, use rain dance, and we'd all end up soaked and irritated. I don't want to squelch my way into the hotel and look like a kicked Growlithe in front of Lance or Alder."

His team all tilted their heads. Then nodded vigorously. That was something the Castform would do.

"Lenro just had to teach him his songs, didn't he? Best not risk it. I like being able to hear."

Tai came up to Riven, poking his shin with a paw and flicking his tail, pointing it downwards. He hissed lowly in a Liepard's way of a huff. "Aren't the other gym leaders expecting you, trainer? We can't dawdle around here much longer if they are. They would ask questions of us, and some of us are terrible liars. Terrible being the relative term, they're the worst liars I've ever seen, and one of them is a dark type for god's sake. How embarrasing."

His tail pointed backward at Haona, Aine, and Omy. The girls retorted with cries and growls. At least Omy and Aine did. Haona preferred to lob insults. Tai barely acknowledged them, ignoring Haona's jabs like he would an annoying insect bite. That only prompted Haona to throw more curses at him.

"Another thing, master trainer." The cat wondered, stretching, "how will you explain Omy, err, Lyne's growth? She was a baby before. A few weeks old, might I add. To them, it would seem that she evolved overnight. Elesa will think you did something nefarious. She has grown… a few inches."

His team froze, and they turned to stare at the Zebstrika. A few inches was quite an understatement. As a Blitzle she was little more than two feet tall at the growth stage they had left the past in. Now… well now she positively towered over everyone that wasn't Riven and Aine. Her father's genes were no joke, and being around a bunch of lightning Origins who found her absolutely adorable meant that she had grown up constantly supercharged and pushed to her limits in an ideal environment full of crazy humans that could keep up with her speed.

Riven was honestly half excited and half mortified at the thought of showing her to Elesa or Burgh so soon.

She sparked nervously, trotting in place as she tried to duck her head to appear shorter, which didn't help much at all. Baron patted her head for trying. Seeing the predicament, his team immediately started fishing for solutions, ranging from slightly ridiculous to completely improbable. Riven paled when they started suggesting that he say he force fed her an entire bag of rare candies. While the most believable explanation, it would make him out to be a gigantic douchebag of a trainer. Not only was that ridiculously fucking expensive, but Elesa would flay him with her nails if he so much as uttered that. Pokemon evolved solely on rare candy weren't just weaker than average, they were often smaller and less sturdier than naturally evolved pokemon. Less trained too. Trainers hated people who bought their way into having evolved pokemon.

He waved his hands about amidst all the cries, barks, hisses, and clicking, settling them down.

"Alright, alright everyone relax and settle down, take a deep breath. In… and out." He directed them slowly until they all spent several minutes doing breathing exercises. Once they finished, Riven laughed to himself, possibly out of pity. He scratched his head, racking his brain and finding nothing. "But Tai's right. I have no idea how I'll explain her growth. Don't worry though, this just means things are going to get worse. A lot worse!"

"That's helpful," Haona snorted sarcastically. "Try not to keep her out of her pokeball too much then? Me, Spoopy, and that stupid cat are going to have to do a majority of the battles." The Zebstrika didn't like that suggestion, protesting loudly. Haona apologized but she was right, Riven admitted.

"We should try to be on our way first, details later," Tai reiterated, focusing on the city beyond. "Don't want to be late. Unless… you're planning to be. Oh, you irresponsible trainer, I see what you're doing."

Their trainer grinned widely, glad they were on the same wavelength.

"I will arrive precisely when I mean to, which means late. We'll head up to the hotel soon, so we can waste more time doing nothing for now. When we get home to Nimbasa, we get that armor off and stash it before the other leaders have any idea what's going on. Until then, everyone that isn't Baron or Spoopy is staying inside. Omy-" She nipped him on the side of the head for that. "-Ow! Lyne, my bad! You're definitely not going out until I come up with an excuse, so Haona's right, that means extended ball time for you until I can bullshit my way out of explanations or I get cornered. And I know you like being called Lyne now since you're not a baby anymore, but everyone else knows you as Omy. Gotta sell it. Sorry."

"Argh! This is stupid and I hate it. You better give me gym battles after, then. All the gym battles!" She did her best impression of an equine pout, grumbling very unhappily about the ordeal until Riven caved. His two seconds of resistance over, he smoothed her mane and regretted it as his fingers got progressively number. He couldn't possibly say no to his baby, even if she wasn't the little Blitzle that had hatched not too long ago in the present day anymore.

"Hey, have any of the black uniformed humans ever seen a Blaziken base jump before?" Haona mentioned deviously, sticking her head through the safety rails to stare at the hotel building. She pawed at the ground, glancing over at Aine with a mischievous grin full of sharp canines.

"No, no surprise Blaziken base jumps. Sorry, Aine." The Blaziken joined Omy in sulking. "While hilarious, it'll probably get me shot. First time wasn't very fun, I can tell you that much. I'm going to approach the building like a regular person would. No tricks, definitely no Efrain sword porting. I'm supposed to be slightly injured, too. I should pretend I am. Should be easy, right? They wouldn't shoot a guy that had just been shot."

His team exchanged looks. They clearly weren't convinced. With good reason, too, considering what happened next.

As soon as he'd tried crossing into the hotel plaza after Efrain shadow snuck him behind an alleyway's dumpster and walking briskly to the place, several dozen high caliber weapons and many snarling pokemon welcomed him. They even had snipers on other floors. He held his hands up and didn't dare move. The ops were yelling at him to stay where he was and keep his hands in the air.

"Whoa, whoa! Don't shoot! Uh, gym leader Nathan? Nimbasa? Fourth gym?" He croaked, his throat locking. With this many pokemon and weapons focused on him, even going full Origin would probably get him as good as dead. He had no choice but to sit there and hope no one had a short temper.

"Stand still, do not move," several voices warned.

"I'm not!" Riven hissed. "I… am… standing, perfectly… still!"

Three operatives came up to him, their weapons still trained on him as they patted him down. Satisfied, they ushered him over to the entrance. They held up a scanner and quickly did a facial scan. It beeped twice. One of the higher ranking ops told the others to lower their weapons and call off their pokemon. The Espeon to the side didn't stop snarling though. "Welcome, leader Nathan, sir. Sorry about the whole security thing, since you got shot and all. Just being safe. The others are inside, they've probably been waiting. Did you lose your credentials, sir?"

"Guy, I just got out of the hospital," Riven spat acidly. He leered at the gun pointing at him, and at the operative behind it. "Would you like it if someone pointed a gun at you after getting shot? God, man. Put those things away already. I'm not a damn imposter."

The operative held up a scanner, the device making a distinct beep once it verified Riven's identity as the real deal. The operative made a face and apologized. "Everything appears in order. Sorry, sir, just doing my job."

"I'm well aware. Can I go now?" Riven asked, voice strained and more than a little angry. The operatives quickly stepped aside to let him through. "Have a nice day."

Cleared to go forward, he stepped past them with a barely suppressed growl and continued on into the hotel lobby, taking an elevator up to the floor where the leaders were. Met by more pokemon, guns, and faceless operatives in full combat gear, he not so eagerly stalked on over to where he could hear plenty of shouting, arguing, and bickering, and Riven could see the negative emotions in the color of the Other flowing out of the room. He dreaded walking into that particular mess.

And stopped dead in terror when an incandescent Sela stomped out of the meeting lounge, red hot anger the same color as her hair swirling around her in a vortex as the Lopunny to her side gave threatening glares at the operatives that tried to stop her. She barely registered his presence as she continued down the hall, swearing up and down about idiotic Unovans and shitty jobs with not enough pay. Riven had glued himself to the wall, letting her pass in fear that she'd turn that anger on him. The woman didn't spare him a glance, more than likely unable to spare him a sliver of attention from how pissed she was.

Wide-eyed, he saw her disappear down a flight of stairs, her boots still stomping against the ground. That red cloud of anger followed her down the steps like a personal umbrella of emotion.

"Breathe, sir," one of the ops suggested. His name read Nowak. "At least you're not an Elite Four. Ms. Schaffer's been tongue lashing Alder and the rest of them for about two hours. Guess she's had enough. I pity anyone who has her in their group."

Riven eyed him, still plastered to the wall. "S-she is in my group."

"Oh." The operative standing next to Kowak shook his head. Kowak stopped laughing, and shifted awkwardly behind the face mask. "Uh, um, shit… good luck, sir."

"Thanks," Riven said dryly. A fucking hat. Good god. He was going to find that thing and burn it. Then strangle whoever came up with the idea. "Oh shit. Don't tell them you saw me! I wasn't here. At all."

"I saw nothing, sir."

More swirling clouds of red and uncertain blue, purples, and greens wafted out of the lounge as Riven knew that more gym leaders were leaving, and endeavored to make himself scarce, bolting back to the stairs and zooming up a flight as he waited. Dozens of footsteps and hushed conversations marked the rest of the leaders making their way downstairs. Clutched to the railing like a lifeline, he listened until they were gone, trying to make a mental count of how many footsteps there were. Must've been dozens. And made himself breathe.

Creeping back down the stairs, he signaled Nowak if it was all clear. The operative played along, signaling the clear with a hand.

About to make his way into the lounge, he almost crashed into the short Sinnohan champion, who was also clearly not having a good day. Straightening, Riven managed a nervous hello while the short champion sidestepped past him in a hurry. "Hey. Zach, right?" Riven started awkwardly, attempting to make short conversation.

"It's Zachary," the kid corrected without stopping. A blindfolded Luxray followed him out, tail lashing behind him lightly.

"Zachary, okay, uh were you just-"

"Leaving," he replied tersely, quickening his pace without bothering to turn around. The Luxray that flanked him gave Riven a curious sniff, head tilted to the side in confusion, then presumably found the Unovan gym leader uninteresting and trotted after its trainer, stopping for a moment to growl at one of the operatives, who jumped back with an undignified yelp. It gave a very questionable rumble of evil joy. Riven eyed the Other around the champion. Huh. The kid was a smoldering mess of emotions; guilt, fear, anger, loathing—it was all there. A far cry from the white hot star that was Sela or the subdued undertones of worry from the other more level headed leaders. Further still from the utter lack of worry he got from Lance.

Experience was telling, always. The kid was as plagued by stuff as the rest of the newer Sinnohan leaders. It made him wonder just how bad the situation in Sinnoh really had been, and the events that followed. He never got more than a summation, and scarcely any details about the leaders, apart from the deaths. There'd been a lot of those.

Focus. Details later.

Entering the lounge, he spotted Alder nursing his forehead while the other Elite Four members(minus Grimsley) remained seated, grim expressions on their faces. They were so out of focus that Riven had practically walked up to them before they noticed he was there.

"That bad, huh?" He asked, arms crossed as he glanced around the mostly empty lounge. Even the other Unovan gym leaders had left.

Alder peered up and did a double take. Bushy brows furrowed as a finger pointed. "Were you always that color? Did you get a tan?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Riven retorted, holding up his hands. "What does that mean? I've always been this color. Are you being racist?"

The Unovan elite all eyed him strangely, scrutinizing him. Alder nearly slapped him. "I'm native, you idiot. I'm darker than you. And no, you were definitely paler. What did you do in one night?"

"I'd say you had a fight with a tanning booth and lost," Shauntal pointed out. "Or you tried to fight the sun and also lost. Badly."

Riven stared at them flatly. "It seems I fought the sun," he deadpanned. She beamed proudly, drawing a groan from the champion.

"FORGET THE TAN! HE IS THE HERO WHO SAVED WHITNEY AND CLAIR," Marshal boomed, standing up and sending the chair he'd been sitting on flying across the room with sheer force of calves. It crashed into the wall and dented it. "How are the ribs healing?"

Making sure to retreat away out of range of any experimental jabs from the fighter, Riven stood closer to Caitlin, hoping she'd deter Marshal from both yelling and trying to abuse his ribs. He noticed she had earplugs on. Smart girl. "They feel great. They'd feel better if you didn't try to test them."

"Nonsense. Those genetics of yours are superb! Your pain tolerance must be inhuman! I should take you training with my fighters one day-"

"Hard pass," Riven immediately replied. He gave Marshal a polite smile, who looked absolutely devastated from the rejection. Fight fighting types as a dark type? Willingly? Big no. Sorry Marshal. Aine and Baron might take interest, though. "My ribs aside, I couldn't help but wonder why all the gym leaders walked out of here like someone had just spit in their favorite meal. Twice."

"They didn't see you?"

"I ran up the stairs and hid."

Alder chuckled. "If only I had that luxury."

"Sucks to be you, I figured it's too early in the morning to get asked fifty questions at once. Especially from ticked off leaders. Did the briefing go that badly?

"Worse," Caitlin chimed in, yawning. "Apparently our methods of trying to regulate panic among the populace are unethical, barbaric, and not at all representative of what the pokemon league officials should be. 'Transparency is the best policy'. As if that worked out excellently for the Sinnohans. Kids practically got torn to shreds by the media. Then actually almost torn to shreds. Imagine that stupidity here."

"Oh man." Riven pictured transparency and the average Unovan citizen and started getting scared, real fast. "Easy to judge another place as a tourist. Have they ever dealt with Unovans? No offense but you guys don't take suggestions or instructions too well. Or sensible discussion. Or anything, really."

"Says the supposed Kalosian," Marshal laughed sardonically. "The French are so soft."

"And the term is free-spirited, Nathan," Shauntal said, smiling pridefully.

"Free-spirited to be misinformed and jump to the worst conclusions possible and believe whatever someone on the net tells them? They were right this time about the government trying something underhanded, but their other theories are absolutely asinine. I've lost brain cells reading some of them. Is that why Alder drinks so much?"

"No," the older champion replied plainly. He caught their looks and frowned. "…But it does make it worse."

Shauntal soothed him like she would a Skitty that had gotten its paw stepped on. "There, there," she cooed. He frowned down at her and pried her off. She gave an exaggerated pout, straightening and adjusting her round glasses.

"I never said we had the sharpest tools in the shed, dear. Which is exactly why more pointed methods work best, because trying to tell our people to calm down after a terror attack is basically impossible—we don't do nice. We tried before during the whole Kyurem snafu, and it bit us in the rear. We breed crazy, these other leaders don't really understand that much, unfortunately. Did they really think we stopped Team Plasma by being idle?"

Definitely not. From what Riven had heard, the gym leaders had banded together and taken the fight to them in a giant group deathmatch. And utterly crushed them while Hilda and Hilbert had cleaned house. Brutally too.

"I mean, it's not like you need militarized police to control the general population," Riven deadpanned, jabbing a thumb behind him to the operatives standing outside. "Good old Unova, where your neighbor is more likely to come at you with the nearest pipe than with their own pokemon. Certainly doesn't happen in Hoenn, or Kalos, I can tell you that much. Things are a lot calmer there. And that's not getting into the crime rates."

"We know," Caitlin said, exasperated. She casually tossed a rubber ball in the air with a flick of psychic power to ease her frayed nerves. "Stomp one criminal and another pops up like a bad game of whack-a-Drilbur. But try telling these other leaders that. Instead we get yelled at for two hours, as if these fanatical Sayre cultists are somehow our fault. Then the Sinnohans go and accuse us of accusing them that the Sayres were their fault when we're not doing either of those things! All we want to do is host the Pokemon World Tournament, because we've already missed one, and now we may have to end up canceling again because the other leaders are too afraid of some kids with guns. Unova is full of kids with guns! They should see the countryside! The kids there practically grow up surgically attached to them! They think we're not hurting, too? Cynthia is gone. My mentor is gone and I miss her greatly but I'm still here, aren't I? My villa sits abandoned for no one to use this world tournament! Ugh, I'm glad I brought earplugs, and not just because I had to stand all of Marshal's yelling. Having loud gym leaders whine for hours grates the soul."

Her rubber ball ricocheted across the room, nearly hitting Riven in the face. It stopped in front of his eyeballs as Caitlin yelped to stop it. The small girl eyed him. "Sorry. Is it the same for you? With the whole…"

"Eh, sorta," Riven said, plucking the ball out of the air and handing it back to her. Her psychic hold on it fizzled completely against his touch. "You destroy things, mine just drives me crazy. I guess we both got control issues we need to work on. Speaking of, how's our missing gambler?"

"Still somewhat afraid of his own bath water coming up to drown him," Shauntal giggled. "He's starting to experiment with the hydrokinesis, at least. It's so cool! Oh, so cool! Like a real life Sharpedo-Man! I tried to get him to catalogue his strengths and weaknesses to see if I can make write a character based off him but he-"

"Shauntal, please. Not so loud." Alder pleaded softly, nursing a migraine. She smiled in response, quieting down. He faced Riven, rubbing his eyes briefly. The bags under them were starting to get more pronounced. "Let's not talk about the verbal beatdown we just had to slog through. Or Grimsley, that's going to be one hell of an explanation. So far I've got the rest of the foreign Elite Four convinced that he got injured in the raid. Won't last long. But anyway, I trust you had a more restful night than we did? Pershing reported that you rented a room in Glacen. Fancy place. Happy to be alive after your brush with buckshot? And with a beautiful girl, no less. She is getting quite popular among the male trainees, y'know. Very popular."

"Long as they don't touch, or they'll wish they didn't. I'm inclined to break some wrists."

"Ooooh, he's jealous! The big, bad merc is jealous his super secret girlfriend is getting attention? That's so cute!" Shauntal exclaimed, suddenly adamantly interested. Riven was not turning red. "And taking her to a high class hotel after a death-defying stunt of self sacrifice to save two beautiful gym leaders. How romantic! However will the public react?" She framed a lens with her fingers.

"Please don't tell the tabloids, they'll eat me alive," Riven said flatly. The bookworm winked, miming silence with a finger across the lips. "Regardless, I had a pretty good night compared to you guys." He certainly ignored the tongue-in-cheek comment the bookworm made about just how good a night he had. "What was that hotel burning down about, though?"

Alder blew out an annoyed breath, shaking his head. "We have no clue. We're chalking it up to some crazy kid with a fire pokemon and an opportunity. Yates had no answers for us either, apparently a few gas lines exploded and the whole hotel went up in flames. Sprinkler system never turned on. That'll definitely have to be investigated at some point. Odd timing but no one was hurt, at least. Strange, but don't look a gift Ponyta in the mouth. Buildings can be replaced, people cannot."

"Were the other leaders less than thrilled about it?"

They all looked at him. He nodded dimly.

"Yeah, I didn't think so, either. You didn't tell them about my condition?"

"Heavens no," Alder said, scowling sourly at the thought. "With the Sayre cult and the Plasma's re-emergence causing this much unrest, the reveal of Origins into the mix would doom Unova's relations with the other regions for good, and I'm pretty sure Sela would've dragged you here herself if we did. I'm not worried about the pokemon leagues in any case, it's the regional governments that bother me. They'll think Unova is preparing to militarize again—this time with half pokemon super soldiers. We'll have to leave the others in the dark. I know many of the leaders personally, and while I trust Sinnoh's newer leaders as good kids, I know better than to assume they could keep a secret like that."

He sighed deeply. "We need the Pokemon World Tournament to go smoothly. Not just because of the poor state of the international training climate and young Zachary's request, but because people need something to go right for once—for a momentary sense of normalcy, even. Which I think is why Zachary requested the tournament to be hosted in the first place. The Sayre incident threw everything into shambles, and we've been trying to get the world back on track since. The Sinnohans hate being here, and yet they're still attempting to go through with this, despite having some very… pointed opinions. It's just—the timing of this went wrong so quickly. We thought we were going to have a good year. Then-"

The older man grimaced.

"Elesa," Marshal added, strangely quiet. He closed his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval. "A shame it happened in Unova. But we will not fold! The World Tournament will continue and if anyone wishes to stop it, going as far as to threaten our very lives, then we shall meet them head on! We are Unovan, and we don't scare easy. Hmph!"

"Of course it helps that having all the gym leaders in one place draws out all the scum fairly efficiently," Caitlin added. "We can crush the vestiges of the Plasmas, the Sayres, and this Singularity all in one fell swoop and still have our tournament. Get our cake and eat it. Preferably the cake where no one has to die. Then the rest of the regions can kiss our feet and thank us for doing them a service. And learn to stop yelling indoors. Don't they know it disturbs my sleep?"

"Ruthless, efficient, and blunt as a hammer. Unovan to a T," Riven laughed to himself. "From your markets to your people, you all go for the jugular, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if I bump into someone in Lumiose, they might apologize and go about their way. Here in Castelia I'd get about five seconds before I get told to fuck right off or get my face smashed in by a Machoke. Really sets the tone. And looks like our dignitaries are about to see exactly how welcoming Unova can be, outside of murderous children with ballistic weaponry that almost every region seems to share right now. Some Unovans manage to make them look tame."

Alder found dry irony in that, chuckling half to himself. "Granted, we didn't have to worry about that sort of problem in previous years. Trying to keep the training environment intact is going to be quite the challenge, this year, but we've faced Kyurem freezing a city down to its foundations before and everything the Plasmas did before that. Stopping small would be a disservice to our more civilized counterparts, though I'd doubt they'd appreciate the pressure. They weren't very thrilled to learn they won't be staying at Caitlin's villa and the relative safety of the resort. Should've heard the Icirrus group's complaining."

Riven raised an eyebrow in question. Caitlin looked absolutely evil as she recalled who was in that group. "Surge, Clemont, AND Brawly. Poor Jasmine is in there too, I feel so bad. For her. Not the other three, they're kind of lovable idiots but oh brother do they grate on your nerves."

That they did. He came up with an idea, formulating it perfectly in his mind. Hopefully as an Elite Four, Caitlin could certainly mess with the line-ups? She had that power, right? Just maybe…

"Can I trade Sela for her? If it's possible? I can save poor Jasmine from her fate." Riven offered eagerly, a spark of hope rising. "She doesn't have to suffer any longer, I can save her from the horror of Brawly's 'dudes' and Clemont's blabbering. Just say the word." The smaller girl smirked lazily.

"Now look at this, Shaunty. We got a real dark type trying to throw Brycen under the bus with devious plotting. How amusing. And adorable, but mostly amusing."

Shauntal poked Riven in the arm, giggling. "Dana is going to have so much fun with him."

"Who's Dana?"

"Sela's Lopunny. Her personal fuzzy enforcer. Hell of a kick, eats dark types for breakfast. Little word of warning." Riven didn't look very impressed. Caitlin's smirk still hadn't died. She started playing with her ball again.

"And as much as we'd like to spare Jasmine from wanting to scream into a pillow every night—well picture this; Surge, Sela, Brawly, and Clemont's incessant rambling all in the same building, then add in their pokemon. Surge's Raichu is practically a copy of himself and having two electric type trainers in the same vicinity would drive any woman with long hair insane." His eyes widened. "Do you want Icirrus to implode?"

His spark of hope was mercilessly grabbed, thrown to the floor, stepped on, and finally strangled to put it out of its misery. Caitlin swung her feet as she laughed, the little ball she carried swirling around her with each breath. He couldn't do much more than sourly grumble under his breath. "On second thought, I guess mutual suffering isn't so bad. We'll all be miserable together. Who thought up the idea of the groups, and who in god's name used a damn hat and post-its?! Is that true or was Allen fucking with me?"

Alder exchanged looks with the other Elite Four members and wisely avoided the question. By not answering it at all. Riven got even more upset, they were using his own tactics against him!

"I can't speak for Pershing, but I can tell you that the selections were random." Had they used a hat? Yes. Would Alder ever admit this? Never. "Splitting them into groups was a risky play and sure some leaders may not play nice with others; however, splitting our forces means our adversaries also have to split theirs, and they don't have the whole UFO network and law enforcement to fall back on. With winter upon us it should work, limits their movements while we can use the airships to our advantage."

"Unless they have more cards hidden up their sleeves. Nice deflect by the way," Riven mentioned crossly. Alder smiled. "Besides, there's always Pollock's group to worry about. We know even less about what their intentions are. Their lack of retaliation since the raid has me worried, I mean we did swipe an Origin sphere out of their bloody noses and they just let it happen? Something's up. They're waiting. And every day all of us are grouped up means more chances for someone to slip a bomb under a chair and kill all of us. Something else has been bothering me too. Who ordered the mass amnesia to be used? And how exactly did Sabine get a hold of that information before the internet did? Isn't it usually the opposite?"

Alder's face fell.

"I know what thought is going through your head. Trust me, we're trying to figure it out. This was an insider leak. Deliberate. Yes, the Unovan League has priority when it comes to large scale conflicts with trainers, but the regional government also has a say, when it comes to the Unovan Field Operations. A lot of our operatives come from regular backgrounds, not training. Other regions have severely underfunded Ranger programs because their regional officials love cutting trainer based programs. Sinnoh's was horrible, I heard, prior to the Sayre incident, but Zachary is making good progress on that front, reforming the police force and keeping eyes on trainer safety on the routes. It's a good effort. A shame it wasn't done before. Cynthia often preferred to take care of things herself, instead. She had assaulted several politicians before and didn't much care for their posturing, not that I blame her, I've punched a few in my time. Lance has his G-men. Snowpoint was just the crack the broke open the issue, and still the ranger programs are cut to the Murkrows and back outside of Sinnoh. Ours included."

He huffed.

"We at least have the UFOs to maintain order as a backup. Until recently, lots of our trainees were largely civilian, and the training centers for most operatives are funded almost entirely by civil taxes, the League doesn't contribute nearly as much as we use the UFOs, in comparison. So when the trainer heavy uptick occurred a few months after Pollock started his tirade, I got worried. And I was right to be. Many didn't get past the psyche evaluation. Regardless, the officials held an emergency vote to administer the amnesia to prevent civil unrest. Obviously, we couldn't say no; it was both a trainer and civilian issue, and we desperately need the ops. I didn't like it, but I had to agree. Best decision for everyone, and they knew that. But the League is the face of the region, just like it is everywhere else. We got used, then stomped on, and we couldn't even deny we agreed to it. Because we did, and someone knew that."

"Shit." Riven's mouth pressed into a thin line. "So someone's getting paid under the table while making everyone else look bad, knows your war plan, and the best you can do is try and watch the head honchos for a slip. Then choke the little shit until he croaks. Although, it may not just be one guy. I'm sure they have all the incentive they want to stick it to you guys. Regional governments don't think much of their League counterparts, do they?"

"No, they don't. Training holds our world together. But trainers are often… careless, as teens and young adults tend to be. There are a lot of accidents and damages constantly being compensated as grievances. Annoyance adds up into anger, contempt. Civilians have less than favorable opinions of most trainers in general due to that and other extraneous factors like the Sinnoh incident, and the League is composed of nothing but some of the strongest trainers in the region. Some find offense to that, thinking we strut around doing whatever we please." Alder grunted. "Just like we think all elected officials are bought and paid for by corporate rats in bogus elections. They think we are wanton forces of destruction, and we think they're parasites feeding off the system without actually aiming to change anything. Which they are. Every champion has to deal with the civilian side of a region's government, and it's probably the same reason why most champions in their teens, if possible, don't willingly remain champions. Paperwork and bureaucracy quickly kill any passion for the station. All fun and battles until the glamor washes off, trainers stop challenging you, and reality hits like an ice cold dunk in Icirrus."

"Remember the hued heroes, Nath?" Shauntal added. "Case and point. Think Hilda or Hilbert wanted to deal with idiots in suits?"

"I assume they were more tempted with the idea of siccing their pokemon on them and have them wrung out like chew toys? Lot more amusing, if you ask me," Riven guessed, imagining a Serperior flailing a man about in comical fashion. "Still, that… explains a lot. Can't trust people these days, never know what they're after. The less people know our moves, especially the regionals, the better. It'll prevent any accidents from happening. Hopefully."

Alder nodded. "Agreed, which is why you're all shipping out tonight and will be in your respective cities by noon tomorrow at the latest. The gyms will also receive additional gym trainers—some of our trainee operatives. Just like you did." Riven raised a questioning brow. Alder glanced out the window, staring out at the city. "The last time the Sayres got the jump on the leaders, they weren't prepared. We will be. I've given notice to our civilian counterparts that you will all be moved tomorrow, instead. That'll ruffle their feathers, but I could care less about what they want. We'll find the Diglett in their ranks, but not right now. Be vigilant, Nathan. And be careful about answering questions some of the leaders may ask you."

"Oh, they had inquiries? About-" He pointed at himself. Alder scratched his stubble.

"As to how exactly you became leader, among other things. And slightly worrying, was that it was Viola of Santalune that brought up the questions. I know you've had a history with her in the past from your testimony. She's usually snapping photos of everything in sight, at least whenever I've had the chance to see her in my trips to Kalos. She hasn't touched her camera since she got here. Her questions seem to be awfully close to home for someone that should've been out of the loop just like everyone else. Worst case scenario, she's been compromised by the other side. Best case scenario, she recognizes you and you'll be in for a rough time before the Rush." Riven felt his stomach curl in on itself. "How much contact did you have with her after the Pangoro in the woods?"

"Not much at all, honestly. Prism Tower attack is the last time I spoke to her, and that was mostly to get the police on my side. Didn't involve her at all after that. It's been years since then. She won't be happy to find out a mercenary is trying to be a gym leader. Pinky swear that I've turned a new leaf might not cut it this time."

"Yes, the all-mighty pinky swear. Hmmm. In that case, you may want to start working on a cover story, then. Should the Sinnohan leaders find out about your supposed trainer history, well, they may be slightly cross. Don't rub it in. If they find out about your true history…"

"Then I'm well and truly up shit creek without paddles, legs, or arms while sinking. I heard Zachary doesn't like mercs. Something about Sunyshore after the gym race. There was mention of a guy that called himself Vaporeon? Shot some people? Assaulted the gyms?"

Alder confirmed it, nodding slowly. "That… was a horrifying day. For Sinnoh and the world after we found out what happened. Zachary had trusted a merc to break into the television station. Naturally, mercs without morals do as they do and when things went awry, he killed two of his gym trainers, and shot his Breloom. Tried to kill Vaporeon and ended up dead instead. Lucian stepped in at just the right time, or we wouldn't have a Sinnohan champion right now. Needless to say, our young friend doesn't have a particularly high opinion of people, well—like you. Time may have blunted the edge, but you know that if the same thing happened to you—"

"I'd have hung him up by his guts, and anyone helping him," Riven admitted, turning the thought over and over in his head and finally, after a few moments, swore breathlessly. "Thanks to Sabine, he and the rest of Unova know you guys were working with Prime, who was publicly making sushi out of demented trainers. That's why he looked the way he did just now. If he or any of the others find out who I really am… Well, shit."

"Just so," Alder concluded. "A right and proper mess. I'm sure at this point they'd rather hug a hissing Arbok than trust us."

Groaning, Riven pulled up a seat and sat down, running a hand through his hair. "You can pull me from the circ-"

"Not a Frosslass' chance in hell," Alder barked immediately, kicking the leg of the chair Riven was sitting on. He scrambled not to fall, glaring at the champion. "Sela's not that bad, you signed a contract, Elesa would kick my ass instead, and I have a feeling your heart wouldn't let you quit, either. So don't lie to yourself. Shouldn't have signed the paper if you couldn't handle the heat. Trying to take all the benefits and none of the work? Lazy, lazy, lazy."

"Sneaky darks," Marshal said with a rumble. "We deal with Grimsley every day. We know all the tricks, all the sleights."

Riven sighed, his plan foiled once again. "It was worth a try. Stupid fine print… Does Lance suspect anything? Zachary?"

"Nathan, a blind man can see something is amiss here," Alder said flatly. "Can feel it in the air sure as day. Lance probably already has some of it figured out, frankly. I couldn't hide anything from him if I tried, the kid's a sleuth through and through, he's been doing this for nearly a decade. I'll brief him eventually, he won't spill. Won't be happy, but he'll understand some things are best kept secret. I'm not too sure about young Zachary, however, he's a relatively fresh champion and if he's anything like I was at that age, maybe a little more overwhelmed than he thinks. I wouldn't worry about him. Now, you should go and get situated until nightfall, that's when you'll meet your group on the airship. Plan was to have all of you meet your groups before boarding, but I fear if we do that right now some battles are going to break out. Hopefully by night more of the dignitaries will be less… incendiary. Out of everyone, your group is the only one that hasn't interacted with their Unovan guide, so they've been wondering when they're going to be able to get to know you. Especially after that stunt you pulled."

"Jumping in front of a barrel, you mean? Hardly a stunt. Not like I was filming a pokestar movie. They get paid and get to look cool. Kind of unfair."

"Gym leaders get that too, and best of all? It's not fake. Clair and Whitney's appreciation certainly isn't. They're alive because of you. They think you're a hero, regardless of the fact that you seem to have a blatant disregard for your own survival—nobody sane jumps in front of a shotgun. You're the only one that's too cynical to believe it." He gave Riven a knowing wink. The younger leader brushed him off. "A budding hero, born from the cold, dark depths of a mercenary. If you didn't already have a girlfriend, I'd throw Clair at you with Lance's blessing. Job's changing you already."

"Sure, by caving in my chest," Riven replied flippantly as the champion clapped him on the arm. "Can't wait for another scar. Add to my collection, you know?"

"Hey, don't psyche yourself out. Just try not to jump in front of any mach punches or dazzling gleams before you become an actual hero of the people? I'd hate to see talent wasted."

"I do enjoy keeping all my teeth and all my blood vessels, thank you," Riven assured sarcastically, seeing himself out with a two finger salute. Before hitting the doorway, he turned on his heel. "One question though."

"Yes?"

"What restaurant around here has the best smoothies? I haven't had one in years."

Shauntal practically bounced out of her seat.

---

Why is Unova so dang c-cold!? Flannery complained mentally, teeth chattering as a cold gust of icy Unovan wind seemed to pass right through her thick winter jacket and Mareep wool mittens. And where was that darn guide of theirs? Yeah, he'd gotten a chest full of bullets but Alder had said he'd be up and running by now. The longer they had to wait on this helipad the more she felt her fingers getting numb and couldn't wait to get into the airship that the pilot had promised(three times) came with a top of the line heater. Why couldn't they be in there now while they waited for their mysterious guide to finally stop messing around. Viola chattered along with her, their jaws synchronizing at times from the chill. Morty appeared calm as always, admiring the view and the nighttime city skyline with a pleasant smile on his face. She wished she could ever be that calm, or at least part fire pokemon, currently. She had no idea how cold it got in Ecruteak, but ghosts had a way of dropping the temperature to uncomfortable levels, maybe he was used to it.

Sela was certainly used to it, since she ran a gym in one of the coldest places in Sinnoh. The tall woman scowled with nigh a hint of discomfort, arms folded and hair flying despite the lighter jacket. The air might as well have been a warm summer wind to her. Her patience was being tested more than her cold tolerance, judging from the increased rhythm of her tapping on the ground and a deepening scowl that seemed to get worse by the minute. She'd been incensed earlier in the day, thankfully seeming far more calm now.

A cold gust of air hit her in the face and her chattering got worse. Having had enough of this blasted cold, Flannery tried to maneuver a mitten to grab her Torkoal's pokeball and felt it slide across the smooth surface again and again, until she just about had it and yanked the mitten off. If her fingers were cold, then her pokeball was an ice block. She dropped it and watched it roll off the helipad towards the building access door and behind a large ventilation unit. Cursing her butter fingers, she shivered her way over, only to find nothing. Then she heard a curse and a grunt of pain.

What the-?

"I think you dropped this."

Turning quickly, her Torkoal's pokeball came into view, held up by a tall guy with oversized shades and a friendly grin that was twisted slightly awry by pain. He was dressed in a plain black jacket and jeans, along with strangely pointy metallic shoes and leather gloves. They couldn't have been very warm, yet he was equally as unbothered by the cold Unovan air as Sela, considering he had a half-eaten smoothie in his other hand. He sipped at it happily, enjoying the taste. Flannery stared stupidly for a moment until a breeze brought her back to reality, thanked him, and took her Torkoal's ball back.

"Ummm, are you Nathan?" She asked, reevaluating him again. He seemed a lot darker skinned than she'd seen in his introduction video. Odd. Maybe it was the lighting? Her thought process was eviscerated as her teeth started chattering again when a cold draft passed straight through her winter jacket."W-we've been waiting for you-f-for thirty minutes! It's… r-really cold up h-here."

"Oh, damn. I'm so sorry!" He tried to smack himself on the forehead and made it halfway, wincing. "Nathan here, you must be Flannery. Flaming hair and all. I've seen your Trainer Weekly magazines. I'm surprised you're not cold proof, actually, for a fire specialist! Doesn't get too cold in Lavaridge, does it?"

He laughed easily as Flannery reddened. "No, it doesn't. I hate the cold," she murmured, sticking her mittened hands in her jacket. "Was getting here difficult f-for you? I c-can see you're not trying to m-move much."

"Jostling the center tends to make it hurt. I can still walk fine, mostly. I just kind of got hungry after the hospital tried to feed me that poison they call food. Smoothies are my favorite, so Shauntal helped me down to Grand Avenue and I got myself one before our airship escorts us to Nimbasa. Had to take it easy and walk, that's why I'm a little late. Doc's orders. Again, sorry." He peered past her and beamed. "Oh, hey!"

Nathan waved enthusiastically to the other three leaders, then groaned again as a jab of pain must've jolted through his ribs at the gesture. Flannery came up to support him as he doubled over. He held out a hand, signaling that he was fine.

"Y-you sure you d-don't need h-help?"

"Yeah, just a little sore. Let's meet the others, yeah? Then we can get out of this cold and you can stop shaking like a leaf in the wind. Just one step at a time…"

He clambered awkwardly up the steps to the helipad, giving a few pained hisses when he tried going up too quickly. Settling next to them, he adjusted his shades again and cleared his throat. He held out his hand to Sela first, mostly because she terrified him, and Viola was staring so intently at him that if she focused any harder, she'd burn two holes into his face. She'd be last for sure. "I'm leader Nathan Ethne of the Nimbasa City gym, your Unovan guide. Sela of Snowpoint, Morty of Ecruteak, and Viola of Santalune, pleased to meet you all and I look forward to seeing your performances in the Challenger Rush. Please don't shake too hard, my chest would appreciate it."

Sela shook his hand, handling it like it was made of poorly taped together pieces of smashed glass she didn't want to pulverize. "You were wrong, by the way."

"Huh? What was I wrong about?"

"The gasoline drum on fire," she elaborated absently. "Unova isn't an oil drum, it's the whole damn platform. Your superiors are morons. I talked to the other leaders after they woke up, they said you signed on after everything went down. So either you're an incredible idiot or the dollar signs on the page blinded you. That doesn't make you a chauvinistic pig outright, just a greedy and stupid one."

"Sela!" Viola stammered. The woman shrugged.

Nathan stared at her dumbly for a moment, and nodded to himself, staring up at the sky. "Greedy pig? Well, I'd like to think I'm not a pig. And I don't really need money, so I'm not really all that greedy. But I am a bit of an idiot, or so I've been told. The paperwork was kind of annoying, pages long, in legalese, and didn't come with any pictures. Useless thing. Signed it anyway."

"You what?" Sela asked, incredulous. "Why?"

"Because Elesa asked me to do it. That's the only reason I needed. I don't need money or status, I'm Kalosian, Unovans barely tolerate me as it is, they'll forget about me when Elesa comes back. I get insulted every day already. Why would I bother to read a sixteen page contract some pencil pusher came up with when I can just not and still smack humility into these arrogant Unovan trainers whenever needed? I did miss the part where foreign pokemon aren't allowed to fight in gym battles, though. That was kind of a letdown."

Sela stared at him like he genuinely was the stupidest person she had ever interacted with. "Why would Elesa want a random Kalosian man to take her place? I don't get it. You said it yourself, you're not even Unovan. So why you?"

Nathan stared at her oddly, holding back his irritation. What the hell was her problem?

"My Gallade saved her life, and ran a kid through to do it. I've never had to kill a child before, and neither did Baron. It leaves a mark. One that my Gallade still hasn't gotten over. If you want a proper answer, ask Elesa yourself, not me, I'll even throw in her number, how's that? I may be a rookie but I'm not incompetent," Nathan replied evenly, careful not to let the acid spill out. Deciding to let that simmer in Sela's brain, he turned to Morty, offering his hand. The blonde Johtoan took it, gently shaking it. Sela was still mulling over the response, shaking her head. "Anyone else feeling like putting me on the spot or is there a genuine question in there somewhere?"

Morty raised a hand like a child asking to go to the bathroom.

"I'm just wondering why you're wearing shades at night," he admitted, aiming to lighten the dour mood.

Compared to the tension Sela had just created, Nathan found the innocuous question hilarious. He held out a hand to Viola, and was about to answer the question when she took it and shook hard enough to get the leader to squirm. Flannery wasn't quite sure how much Viola knew of the guy, and figured there was a history there that didn't end well. She knew they were both Kalosian, bad date, maybe? She'd squeeze out the details once they got to Nimbasa, it had to be juicy. Sela had taken note of it too, eyes narrowing.

"To see through the madness," Nathan finished with a grunt, reeling from Viola's less than friendly jerk of the hand. He didn't elaborate any further, earning confused looks from the other leaders when he adjusted the shades on his nose. "Now, we should go about our way before Flannery develops frostbite. If you have any questions, ask them on the airship please. Otherwise, keep all hands and feet inside the floating piece of metal until we are safely in Nimbasa and not liable to sudden hyper beams, eh?"

His group collectively stared at him like he was undoubtedly insane, mouths gaping.

"Oh, you guys don't get those? They're very sudden."

"No…?"

"Huh. That's odd. What about dragon attacks? Those are fun." Flannery raised a reluctant hand. Nathan grinned. "There we go! See, you're halfway there. Unova isn't that bad, once you get past all the people trying to kill you. No big deal, at some point you need to appreciate their determination." He noted their severe expressions and winced. Right. Their lives really were in danger. "Shit. Sorry, I have a bad sense of humor."

"We noticed," Sela pointed out thinly. "Do you think it's funny that these followers are killing people? Trying to kill gym leaders again? This isn't a damn joke. We lost several people—good people, to these bastards."

"No, you're right, you're right," Nathan apologized flatly. "I just tend to forget most people don't live their lives two steps away from getting stabbed in a random alleyway. Too damn used to safety."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You saying we're coddled? Is that it? Do you even know what we've been through? How much this has cost us? And you think it's funny?" Sela challenged, inching closer. She gripped his shirt and snarled. He hissed in pain but didn't back away at all, their eyes locking.

"Someone needs to get a sense of humor, otherwise she'll go crazy," he replied slowly, tone as steady as a still lake. "Keep in mind you've already insulted me once, Ms. Schaffer, and I let it go because Alder wants me to play nice, so I am. But my patience does run out, and I've heard stories about you. This isn't your stomping ground, lady. Don't try it. Not with me."

"Do you think I'm afraid of you? I've stared down bigger men than you. And funnily enough, I've also heard nothing about you. From the other Kalos leaders, and from a lot of the Unovan ones. We don't just forget our challengers. Someone should have recognized you. No one recalls you, at all. You're like a ghost. Why is that?" Sela sharply pointed out. "What else is Alder hiding? What are you hiding?"

"Let go of my shirt, it's starting to wrinkle," Nathan ground out through clenching teeth, ignoring the question. He didn't seem nervous at all, treating Sela as if she were a mere nuisance rather than a threat. "You're a terrifying woman to most, for sure, but you do know you can glare at me just fine without touching the goods. Off, or you'll be riding in that airship cleaning half a smoothie off your shirt in single digit weather." He daintily wiggled the smoothie in his hands.

"Really now?" She challenged. "Why don't you try it?"

He sneered as Sela's anger flared, thinking he was mocking her. She raised a fist as he raised his drink, just as Flannery shivered her way between them before the redhead knocked the smoothie out of Nathan's hand, or worse, smashed his shades and fought him herself. "W-we s-s-should get in t-the ship. It'-s-s c-c-old. P-p-please," she tried, giving both leaders a cue to give up the bravado. She pleaded to Sela, mouthing it silently.

For a moment nothing happened, the two taller leaders locked in a staring contest over Flannery's head as the cold wind whirled around them. Until Sela scowled, reluctantly agreeing with Flannery and letting Nathan go with a scoff. Viola and Morty released a breath they didn't realize they'd been holding. They knew Sela was a firebrand but sheesh. Nathan, in contrast, said nothing—urging them to the ship while glaring at Sela all the while, sipping from the drink in his hand in a way that clearly aggravated her. She returned the sentiment with Unova's favorite way of saying piss off. Fitting.

Stepping into the ship, Viola turned to see that the odd Unovan leader had gone over to the pilot and whispered something in his ear that had both men chuckling for several seconds. The shades on his face and the way he held that smoothie gave him a far more approachable air, one that betrayed the poise she'd seen minutes before. Being able to go from goofball to dead serious in such little time… were the Unovan Elite sure that the fourth was the best spot for Nathan? Flannery wasn't like that at all. Or Morty for that matter. They had three turning point leaders, actually—something she hadn't thought about until now.

Despite the way Sela had gone about it, she was right. They had hardly heard anything about Nathan. However, given what that blonde impersonator had said, that made perfect sense.

He was Prime, the mercenary that had helped her in Santalune, got himself mixed up in a robbery at Prism Tower, and had apparently at one point or another, had gone after an enraged Malamar with a wingsuit and a sword. And then found himself on live television carving up Sayre followers and their pokemon like cordwood. But Prime didn't have pokemon. At least not when she knew him, or he wouldn't have charged at a Pangoro with nothing but a sword. He certainly looked different, with suddenly tanned skin, an easy disposition, and friendlier blue eyes that had been certainly dark brown last she saw him. Contacts, maybe? The goofy smile he sported was so out of place with the way he presented himself in his debut that she would have doubted that was the same man. But the way he'd faced Sela… the intensity was there.

Violence wasn't new to him, he definitely would have taken Sela on if Flannery hadn't separated them. While he wasn't necessarily a bad person, the fact that a man with that kind of shady lifestyle was currently passing off as the fourth gym leader of Unova while the region was floundering on its side like a beached Wailord ticked her off in more ways than one. What in god's name was he teaching the trainers? His gym reviews weren't stellar as is, for that matter, and if the public were to discover his secret, bad wouldn't begin to cover it. Sela would go nuclear. The leaders that headed the fourth were just as important as the first, marking the transition from a learning trainer to an experienced one. Less thrown matches, more serious battles.

A merc with a body count being approved willingly by the Pokemon League and Alder's blessing—from what she had gathered regarding the dubious circumstances of this supposed Nathan's promotion. And after their use of mass amnesia on their own population… Her confidence in the system had been so badly shaken that she wanted to walk up to the bloody idiot and punch him in the ribs as hard as she could and scream at him. Something Sela had almost done to Alder at the briefing until Volkner and Lucian had to physically restrain her and order her to cool off. She had left in a rage after that. Any semblance of calm, rational discussion devolved quickly after that.

There was more to this and everyone knew it. But she would wait. Now wasn't the time. She'd wait until they got to Nimbasa and then she'd chew him out and dare him to lie to her face about what he was trying to accomplish here. The yellow sphere marble thing, still safely inside a double layered plastic bag, felt heavier in her pocket. After tearing Nathan, Riven, Prime, whatever he was, a new one, she'd move onto that Tesla and rip out his hide too. Her camera hung loosely around her neck, still untouched. She hadn't so much as snapped a photo of the city since arriving. Her irritation spiked.

"That panel do something to you, Viola?" Morty asked, a blonde brow arched upward in a question. "You've been glaring at it for the past minute. Then kicked it. The briefing still on your mind?"

She jumped a little, astonished. She hadn't noticed she'd kicked the thing until her toes started hurting. Recomposing, she nodded briskly, concerned. "Yeah. I just… I agree with Sela. Something here isn't right. A lot of somethings. I can't fathom the use of amnesia on a civilian population. It just… we don't do that. There are laws for psychic pokemon for a reason, in every region. Unova shouldn't just get to do what they want. And everyone just thinks it's normal because Unovans are crazy! That's-" She stomped her foot, irritated beyond measure. "That's crazy!"

"Ah. Is that why you've been trying to signal beam Nathan's head since he got here? You'll have to reserve a spot in the queue, I think Sela wants a piece of him first," Morty pointed out, a tiny smile on his face. He chuckled as Viola didn't quite manage to hide her reaction. "I admit, he's a bit strange, and I don't quite trust the Unovans with what's been going on, to be fair. But he's Kalosian. One of your countrymen. I don't think he's representative of the League at large and I'm quite sure the public aren't taking the amnesia well, either. I heard he's temporary, so it appears he is doing Elesa a favor. For the time being. As for everything else, well, I don't know enough to have an opinion yet."

Nathan being referred to as a Kalosian grinded her gears.

That's just what he says he is, Viola snapped mentally. I bet he doesn't even speak French! When she met him in Kalos, he said he was a Hoennite. What was even true at this point? Morty raised another questioning brow, concern lining his features. She frowned again, soberly. "How are you so calm, Morty?"

Messing with his headband, Morty hummed. "Working with ghosts demands being calm. Haunter and Gengar bother less if you don't scare easily. This isn't my first world tournament. Kalos is relatively new to the delegation, so you guys don't have much experience with it. I was nineteen my first tournament, I know what Unova is like and I don't much like the isolationism and xenophobia. Under tension things just get magnified. We can judge them for their ways all we want, but I doubt Johto could have handled the Plasma's the same way the Unovan League did. One of our cities didn't get frozen down to the core like theirs did. There's a certain strength to that I can admire, after all the less than pleasant practices that come with it. Do you two have a history together, by the way? Nathan? Seems like you know him, is all."

Carefully, Viola kept the anger off of her face. "…No. I don't. He reminds me of someone I knew once, though. He was kind of a jerk." She sighed heavily. "I guess you're right, Morty. Maybe taking my anger out on him is a little unfair. It's not his fault they look similar, I guess."

The Johtoan nodded slowly and realized it wasn't his business, respectfully leaving it at that. Viola had the same issues as any other female leader, up to and including many interested parties vying for her affection. He took it in stride, accepting the vague answer. He had no idea she planned to corner Nathan—no, Riven, apparently—in a restroom with her Scizor as payback for what happened to her in the hotel. Maybe she'd do it in his own restroom and give him a dose of karma for having her live that experience herself. Tesla had met her at the bar of the hotel a few hours ago before they made their way to the rooftop their ship had been waiting on, drip feeding her bits and pieces about Nathan, Prime, and the whole debacle concerning Elesa. She didn't trust the blonde as far as she could throw him given his shady disposition, but she'd been dragged into this as a chess piece, she just knew it.

A game between two mercenaries. Great.

When Nathan appeared in the landing door with those ridiculous shades, he felt Sela and Viola both scrutinizing him. Morty and Flannery were rays of sunshine in comparison, Flannery more so. She had stopped chattering all over the place, standing next to the AC vent and blissfully glad for the heat.

Excusing himself, he went over to the seating area and strapped himself in. The other leaders preferred to stay standing, gripping onto the handholds above. A clear, reinforced sheet of forcefield protected glass served as a window to the outside, showing a stunning view of the nighttime Castelian cityscape. Airships hovered on helipads from different rooftops, each carrying the other leader groups to their respective cities. Alder had coordinated with the operatives to get them identical launch times in case of an attack to minimize casualties.

A rumble rang throughout the aircraft, signaling the start of their flight. They hovered over the helipad as the pilot went over pre-flight precautions and inspection. It'd be several hours before they'd arrive in Nimbasa, despite their destination being closer than some of the other leaders, who had to go to the far fringes of Unova to Opelucid, Iccirus, Humilau, Mistralton, and Aspertia.

"Alright boys and girls, ladies and gents," the pilot's voice came out over the intercom. His accent carried Driftveil's distinct drawl, with a slight Mistralton edge. "Strap in tight, or keep a firm hand on those handholds. Remember no pokemon on deck! Keep 'em in their pokeballs, yeah? Hopefully, there'll be no turbulence and sandstorms from the desert on the way to Nimbasa, so we should expect smooth sailing, ya hear? We're lucky we don't gotta brave the storms up near Iccirus or Mistralton. But if we do, don't fret, we got parachutes for real FUBAR emergency landings in case we do get attacked by a flock of wild dragons. Hydreigon hunting parties don't roam often outside Opelucid, but they happen sometimes, haha!"

Riven held in a chuckle as he saw worry and discomfort paint the air above the other leaders a faint green.

"Nah, just kiddin'. Ops are clearing the routes ahead, don't get all worried for nothin'. Just a small joke to lighten the mood. Pre-flight check in is a go, commencing in 3, 2, 1. We have lift off."

An upward momentum carried them up as the aircraft ascended into the air, and Riven was damn glad he didn't have to ride on a bird, where he could fly off at any moment. Airships were much safer, immune to bullets and arrows. Forcefield technology was like an added blanket of safety to smooth his paranoia. And it came with a heater? He loved the present.

Outside, dozens of airships lifted up into the sky, blue engines flaring upward. They split off into different directions, as Castelia began to get smaller.

As they began to reach the city limits, Riven closed his eyes to sleep when the airship began to rock and sway heavily back and forth. His shades fell off his face, clattering to the floor as he looked around frantically. Thunder bellowed, so loud they could hear it through the ship. That wasn't right. There were no storms above Castelia, and they weren't even outside city limits yet. What was-

Sela, Viola, Flannery, and Morty held onto their handholds, crying out desperately as the turbulence jerked them violently.

"What's going on?" Sela said through grit teeth. The airship jerked hard again, slamming the upright leaders against the reinforced glass. Sela had been closest to the metal panel, taking a glancing hit to the scalp as her head connected with the metal. Blood ran down a side of her face as she grunted. "Pilot!" She bellowed. Trying to move, the next turbulent jerk nearly sent the tall woman sprawling to the floor, inches away from getting an eyeball full of metal plating. The Johtoan leader had caught her hand, keeping her steady with a grunt of exertion.

"Don't move to the cockpit!" Morty pleaded. "If we can, let's move to the seats with Nathan and strap in. You're bleeding, Sela."

"Scalp cut," she said, waiving him off. "I've taken worse hits. Thanks for the help."

The airship hadn't stopped rocking, almost as if they were caught in an earthquake. Nathan motioned for them to come over, waving his hands. "Strap in, hurry! Don't chance it!"

The other four almost crashed into the seating area when the ship jerked violently again, quickly locking themselves in and bracing against the shaking. Viola's breathing picked up, with Flannery matching her distress. "What's happening?" She then spotted the other airships wobbling dangerously in the air. "Oh my god."

The pilot intercom sounded over them, his voice dead flat. "You lot are strapped in, good. We ain't in a storm, and we sure as hell aren't getting attacked. My-" He grunted in exertion. "-other pilot friends are experiencing the same thing. Radio chatters all over the place, and there's some kind of interference. Stay calm. I'll get us outta this."

Sela dapped her bleeding scalp with part of her sleeve, grimacing at it. The other ships closer to the city had begun to climb away from any skyscrapers, drawing sighs of relief from the others. "Stay calm… Kind of hard to do when-"

Another bellow of thunder reverberated throughout the metal of the ship, this time louder and more pronounced, rattling them down to their bones. Their skin tingled as if a million tiny pinpricks ghosted over flesh. They realized something as the hairs on their arms stood straight up. The ship wasn't the one vibrating. The air was. Inside the ship, their lungs, and outside. The world fuzzed slightly, as if out of focus. What could even do that?

An explosion of thunder, louder than anything they had ever heard seemed to split the sky, hurting their eardrums from the sound as they desperately covered their ears. It was nothing like the familiar bellow of thunderclaps, or the cry of a raging storm. It was like the sky itself had grown angry, the cry like...

Like a roar. Not one, but two distinct sounds merging into one horrible screech. The air trembled.

"There's no way. That can't be thunder," Flannery said, shaking.

Riven's heart sank, and swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, his expression grave. "It's not. It's worse. That has to be a legendary. One of the big ones."

A question hung between them. Which one?

They turned to him then outside, staring out the window panel as he stared off into the distance. The entire sky over Castelia began to glow a brilliant, otherworldly mix of blue and purple. High above the center of Castelia, the sky split and cracked, opening into a vortex of light thousands of miles high, nearly at the throat of space. A giant hole in the heavens themselves. People and pokemon miles away could see it. All of Unova stopped and stared in awe and horror up at the heavens.

"God help us," they heard the pilot whisper, his forced calm eroding away.

A ball of energy swirled into existence in the center of the crack, aimed directly at Castelia, blue and purple hues mixing in conjunction. Riven's chest constricted, he knew it was coming and yet, in that moment, Origin or not, he felt impossibly small. Powerless. What was he compared to the power of a legendary with the power to control a force of the universe? Time slowed to a crawl as they, and all of Castelia seemed to watch. Viola took a moment, shakily grabbing her camera despite the bone chilling fear she felt in that moment. A single click of the shutter sounded. Then it came. Riven heard Sela's voice quiver for the first time in genuine terror before a Legendary's cry took their hearing.

"I don't think he's listening."

A blue and violet beam of energy drowned the world in light.

---

Allen Pershing is owned and created by Digital Skitty, appearing in the fanfic Ree Majors' Wonderful Journey.

Maya Blair Majors is owned and created by Digital Skitty, appearing in the fanfic Ree Majors' Wonderful Journey.

Champion Zachary, Sela Schaffer, Antoine Pollock, and Nicholas Sayre are owned and created by Digital Skitty, appearing in the fanfic Pedestal.

All other characters within this chapter are created by me or already exist as part of pokemon canon.