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This jihad against the Darkness will be waged until the End of Days. But shall I survive much longer? My enemies know too much...but I cannot and must not think of what awaits me! Decay spreads over my lands, and rots over the unsteady foundations of the cities of men. What we have cast down may rise again, and madness awaits in the sinews of my mind.

-private journal of Supreme Chairman Bronze Tercano, Grand Bashar of the Confederation of Rorian States.

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Later

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Tess awoke in Rosecove City, the town of her childhood that had wrought her. Dawn's blaze was being thrown through the clear tinted windows, leaping past Rosecove Gym o'er the dark hills. Birds sang above the sundering Sea of Galar, where the glorious clouds still held a modicum of darkness as dawn spirited it away past the ordered curve of the planet.

Still in her nightclothes, Tess left her bed and looked down through a small crack within the floorboards of the lighthouse keep, just beside the red and white checked carpet at the foot of her bed. Her grandfather had just turned the television on, with the latest news of the Galarian Expeditionary Fleet filling every channel. The hundred-vessel-strong force was inbound to the newly-discovered region of Galar to explore it and meet with whatever native peoples could be found there. Hidden by enchanted seas for thousands of years, Galar was almost certainly the last remaining unmapped region in the entire world.

Her arm tingled, and Tess flinched from the shock. Her synthsuit had lost its function, separated from the lifeblood essence of the Library. Still, it gave an occasional reminder of what it once had been, and how many times it had saved her life. A nearly invulnerable shield to protect against all harm...interesting how much she could get away with while she was in it.

A sudden rapping at the window startled her. A single Delibird had nested upon the culvert of the lighthouse port, with a green letter in its beak. Opening the window to let the sea air inside, Tess took the small piece of wrapped parchment.

Wait, parchment? Books...a green and golden motif...the Library! Be wary for an unexpected visitor. L.S!

After unwrapping the letter as fast as possible without tearing the precious contents, Tess discarded the wrappings, which immediately disintegrated in a dusty corner of the lighthouse room. The small piece expanded and unfolded itself, the thaumaturgical sealing spell having expired to nil. Tess started at the top of the document and began to read.

...

L.S here. A similar letter has been given to both Bronze and Jake. Bronze's letter was a rather drawn-out affair to write, I am afraid. The Spellquills and scribes over at the Library seem to be excusing shoddy workmanship in his regard. Might as well tell you what has been going on in the many worlds before I get to the meat of this.

We destroyed over a thousand Jailor prison sites in what is known as the Great Purge of 2048. The Daevite scourge has been eradicated near the Taproots. I participated in the liberation of the planet Honro IV from the wicked thinking machines led by the malevolent AI evermind Aleph. News and stories flow into the Library, and although it has been a hard two weeks on the front, it seems that fortune has finally turned in favor of the Army of Creation. A pause in the fighting might be imminent, and the possibility for negotiation has opened up with the Unallied Worlds.

This War has destroyed so many lives, relationships, and dreams...everything is affected by what the Prime Enemy has done, more or less, hopefully the latter. Sometimes the magnitude of it gets in my head. It really is best if you don't think about it too much, or you might lose your sanity, or worse, your morality. More of our warriors are becoming hard, and it worries me. I weep for them. I weep for the end of innocence, the depravity of Man. I weep the most for the children.

But that was never why I fought in the beginning. Actually, I never started fighting for Creation or Elyon. I started fighting for the Serpent's Hand. I still do.

After I escaped my ruined world, I was an angry, self-centered brat who nearly got killed more times than I can remember for breaking the Library rules. The Serpent's Hand was a path to destroy the people who had taken everything from me. I called my squad the Serpent's Fang, a nasty group of bastards. The rest of the Hand isolated us, and for good reason. We killed more of our foes than any other one I've ever heard of. We weren't the kind of people who would go out of their way to help a single individual.

Then I got straightened out by the Rounderpede. He taught me maturity, patience, and every cardinal virtue you could imagine. He definitely didn't do it with a smile on his face, but the message got across. I wised up, cleaned up, grew up. Never quite enough to lose the imagination that the Library values, but enough so that the other members of my squad had a falling out with me. You met some back at the forest battle. Very unreasonable people.

So, for years, I did as much good as I could. I helped people. I met Hopper, and taught him how to manage his shifting. (Hopper is doing quite well, do not worry about him. He is getting into the taming and breeding of shantak birds, although I consider such a hobby too risky.) We wrote, collected stories, fought the Jailors, and pushed back the Shadow. We became official members of the Army of Creation only a year before last month's events. I still have the uniform, and a few related pictures can be found on the back of the letter.

Nolek was always a loner. He only cooperated on his own terms, and you didn't see the side of him that I wished that you could have. We recovered his body from an Association site and gave him a proper burial. It was as simple as putting him on a skimraft and letting him fly into the void surrounding the Library. The Serpent ensured that he would have a safe passing into the Plutonian Shores of Nyx.

I realized a while back that the Serpent's Hand, being a tool in Elyon's hand to fight back the Dark, was never just another organization. We don't have ID badges or clearance levels or ranks or superior officers, with the occasional exception of an Army of Creation veteran such as myself. Aside from the Library, there isn't any database with all our names and aliases, and hidden locations.

What we have instead is a community.

In the Hand, we don't have chains of command or orders from on high, made by flawed, human leaders. Instead, we look out for each other. Elyon does most of the job, we fill in the rest. We hand down books and fight wars and exchange wild tales with the same kindness that you would treat your Pokemon, Tess. I have been reading up on those creatures, and have realized what marvelous Children of Elyon they are.

Also, it isn't just the war effort. We want to allow the supernatural to flourish. It could be as simple as baking bread for someone suffering from an anomalous condition, or finding a family for a reality bender that won't sell them down the river when the Jailors come knocking. Maybe you could even volunteer to keep the digital records for the Library Cards up to date.

We did what we can. We do what we can. Really, that's all it's ever been. People doing what they can.

I read somewhere that it is said that you cannot make a revolution, or help the revolution. You have to be the revolution. It starts with kindness paid in kindness. Imagine if every one of the Free Peoples fought with the same zeal as even the most complacent member of the Hand. Can you? I can.

Once, I got lost on a moon without an atmosphere. A synthsuit cannot hold up forever, and you can imagine my relief when I espied a settlement of natives. One house happen to be pressurized, and I was met with a man pointing a Maula pistol in my face. After I explained myself, he told me that I had arrived at the only house in over a thousand miles in which I wouldn't have been immediately killed. He was an undercover Hand agent.

Have you ever seen thousands of madmen charge lines of robots in the face of certain death, willingly piling their bodies atop one another in an effort to destroy the evil thinking machines? No? I did. Have you ever seen a girl with an anomalous condition hide it as much as she could, because she knew that if it showed, the Jailors would take her away, give her a number, call her an "it?" No? I have.

The Library needs the Hand. The worlds need the Hand. I am quite glad that your friend Bronze had joined our ranks, although he has not even yet been to the Great Library. He joined because he saw that the Hand was necessary. It really is.

The Army of Creation is more of a disambiguation than a real group. Yes, we have green and gold uniforms and ranks and forces on standby. But it can also apply to the countless warriors under a million different banners that have resisted the Dark One. We are the Army of Creation. You, Tess, are most certainly part of the Army of Creation. The Army of Humanity. The Army of Elyon.

What can you do, Tess? I remember Elyon's warning to you that evil would still arise again in your world. The Tree of Darkness cannot be wholly destroyed.

First, you must be careful not to believe that your Shadow-lord, the Mbelekoro, is defeated forever. Perhaps imprisoned, yes, but I have read that your ancient Hisuians believed that evil was destroyed forever. this was not so. The dark Willpower of the Shadow is still at work, and his servants and great generals were not wholly destroyed, and they remain to seduce Men to their evil worship. Have you heard of Eternatus? I found a reference to it somewhere in the Library, a demon that survived the War of Wrath. Ask Bronze if you wish for more information, I am pressed for time.

The devil is a liar. Expect peace for a long while, but be wary. As a famous man said in a far-flung world: speak softly, and carry a big stick. Maybe two would be better. A thousand wet Octobers may pass before the Dark rises again, but it will.

Second, remember that Elyon has control. This is what many fail to remember. Some of our more foolish members in the Army of Creation believe that Qlippoth is of the same order of being as Elyon, and thus Elyon may be defeated by it. This is a lie.

Finally, understand that the anomalous is on the rise. Your Pokemon are on the border between what is considered "science." Does your world have a theory for how Pokemon can generate matter out of nothing? If not, then you have been living alongside the paranatural all along. The anomalous is a way for Elyon to express creativity in ways that science cannot. Embrace the Light.

This is the end. Remember, the Hand is watching at the Ways. We love you and wish to protect you. What will happen when we are gone, if ever? Another will come to replace us. Someone smarter, someone better...maybe you?

And although the dark will return, a new day shall dawn again. The Library is not your home. It is only a reflection of everything you love about your home.

The Garden is the Serpent's place.

We are the Serpent's Hand.

-Allison Chao

...

Tess put the letter on her bed, careful not to tear the precious contents. On the back of the parchment was an even smaller envelope, with a label simply saying Pictures. Inside were dozens of incredibly thin leaflets, which expanded when they were removed.

Green and gold Army of Humanity uniforms. L.S in dress wear before the Battle of Honro. Repair efforts in the Library. Celebrations over the multiverse. Gatherings of old friends and even enemies that Tess hardly recognized. Ruins of Foundation prisons, and so much more to see.

The sun had risen fully above the lighthouse. Thousands of onlookers had clustered on the white beach of Rosecove, eager to catch a glimpse of the outbound Galarian Expeditionary Fleet as it went on its long and serious journey into the southwestern parts of the world. The dust in the sunray contracted as Tess moved to get a better view of the grand spectacle, and she smiled.

Once, Tess had a dream of a marvelous city. All golden and lovely it was, with walls, temples, collonades, bright alleys, and arched bridges of purest crystal. Prismatic sprays of water came from fountains forged of silver laying within wide-shouldered streets between delicate trees, blossoming foliage, and flower-filled urns. Buildings steeped northward, covered in red-mortar tiers of roofs and peaks beside lanes of grassy cobblestone. She had been in a Golden Galleon, ready to cross the Sea of Summerfell to dwell in the blessed realm forever.

Then, her grandfather had awaken her. Furious, Tess had made sure to behave terribly through the next week, making sure to be as disobedient as possible. As much as she tried, the dream had only appeared three more times, and on each wondrous occasion, she was snatched away while still upon the great Golden Galleon. Part of her secret reason for going along with Bronze and Jake's quest all those months ago was the possibility of making her own Great City in some far-off place and time.

But now she realized that the Library was that City, and the City was only the sum of what she had seen and loved about her youth. It was the glory of Rosecove's hillside roofs and western windows aflame with sunlight. She had seen these things when she had been wheeled out into the sunlight for the first time as an infant, and the way to feel the echo of the City was to turn back to the thoughts and visions of her wistful childhood.

The Library was but a shade of the Great City, and Rosecove was still far lesser. In Arceus Elyon's Realm beyond the veil of Death, the City truly lay. Only in a time far away she would truly rest within it, and then dwell amidst wonder and glory forever.

Rosecove, Roria, the Library...they had poured a love inside her that would never die. As the last ships within the fleet vanished over the Earth's curvature, a cool wind fluttered over the dust that had settled on everything in the lighthouse chamber, and Tess's dark hair whipped around her face. Amused, she left the room to make a breakfast that smelled of home.

...

Outside, a man in a crimson suit and bowler hat looked over the cliffs toward the lighthouse. Although markedly conspicuous, he attracted no stares from the few citizens of Rosecove that still remained in the streets. In fact, it seemed that no one even perceived him, people and Pokemon simply looked aside as he passed them.

Under the newly risen sun, the man paused upon a culvert in a brick roundabout. While a patrolling angelic warrior invisible to the human eye first believed that he was a simple manifestation of Elyon, another moment changed the being's perception of the stranger drastically.

"Well done, Tess. You have completed the Quest to send back the Power of the Prime Enemy, despite all my efforts to waylay you. Pray to all Gods that you may never meet me in my million other forms. Do you not know the nature of the being that attacked your ship in Deep Space? Farwell, Tessa Woodhall, and beware...for I am Nyarlathotep, the Enemy of Elyon, Avatar of Darkness, the Crawling Chaos! A curse upon you and your kin, for I am the Mad Faceless God who howls blindly at the center of all infinity."

The angel barreled downward, a sword like a sun borne in its ethereal hands.

Nyarlathotep vanished, causing the blade to hit nothing but air.

A tremor came from underground as Eternatus rocked in its slumber once more. The sun came to its apex, but a cloud soon came to cover it. A cold wind blew out of the untrodden west, and a long hush fell over the lands.

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Pokemon Adventures: Into The Multiverse

Fin.