"Help! Please, anybody! I need help!" The Krookodile's face was stained with tears, her tail flicking weakly as she struggled to escape from underneath the fallen pillar. Her claws scrabbled frantically at the cracked stone floor of the tower. Every breath seemed like a struggle, each one smaller and shallower than the previous. "Please..." Her voice was barely a whisper, stolen by the breeze blowing from the massive hole in the side of the tower. Letting her head rest on the floor, she blinked as her vision began to blur.

"Ma!" The voice made her head snap up again almost immediately, her neck painfully banging against the pillar.

"Baby?"

"Ma, I'm here!" A thin Krokorok with soft eyes scrambled up the stairs on all fours, his face wet with tears. He dashed to her and crouched down to meet her eyes.

"Baby, what are you doing here? Run away. What if they come back? I- I can't-" She struggled in vain against the pillar on top of her.

He shook his head fiercely and cupped her face in his talons. "You're gonna be okay, mama. Mister Golurk is going to help you."

She blinked in confusion, wondering if the weight of the stone on top of her was muddling her thoughts. "Mister- Golurk? Who-"

Suddenly, there was a great grinding sound above them, as if the bones of the ancient tower were creaking and crunching and finally giving way.

The Krookodile flinched, waiting for the rest of the tower to come collapsing down on them, but instead, the weight on her back wavered, loosened, and then, in some miracle, disappeared altogether.

"Yes!" her son cheered, jumping to his feet and gazing up at a spot above her head.

She was still frozen on the ground in shock, unable to push herself to her feet and turn around. Her back throbbed painfully where the pressure of the pillar had been pushing down.

"Can you stand, ma?" the Krokorok asked more gently, sliding his arms underneath hers.

She grabbed his shoulders and turned to lean against his side. "What happened?" she wheezed, wincing as new light pounded against the back of her eyes.

"Mister Golurk saved you! Look!" he said, pointing up into the light.

The Krookodile blinked and squinted, and then, as the figure finally came into shape, her jaw dropped in shock.

Towering above them, nearly three times her height, was a massive, golem-like creature. Its eyes flickered with ancient energy, and, in its hands, was the pillar that had been on top of her.

"Um- no need for the 'mister,'" he said, waving a massive hand dismissively.

The now unsupported half of the pillar fell to the floor with a BOOM, leaving a sizable dent in the floor. The Krookidile swore her feet lifted off the floor a few inches.

"Whoops," he muttered, lifting the other end and leaning it up against the wall.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" Golurk bent down, kneeling on one leg.

She snapped out of her reverie, quickly nodding. "Yes. Th- thank you, sir. I owe you my life."

He shook his head. "No need for any of that, really."

A faraway rumble made them all tense and look out over the thick forest that surrounded the tower, now clearly visible through the crudely smashed hole in the side of the building.

"You'd better go. In case they decide to come back."

The cause of the destruction of the sacred Dragonspiral Tower rested in the hands of the vicious tyrant Invictus as he and his army quested for complete control over the outer cities, which were hidden safely away from human eyes.

Not safe from crazy dictators, though, Golurk thought.

The Krokorok turned to pull his mother back towards the staircase, but the Krookodile hesitated.

"What about you?"

Golurk hesitated. "Um… I don't really have a home outside of here."

Her tail flicked in concern. "Come with us. We'd be happy to let you stay with us."

He shook his head again, scratching at one of his wrist bands awkwardly. "No, it's- it's alright. I appreciate it, I really do. But what would happen if I wasn't here to help those in need, like you?" he continued, pushing himself back to his feet.

The Krookodile could hear his joints creaking. She wondered offhandedly how old the creature was, or how he had even come to existence in the first place.

The Krokorok tugged at her arm. "C'mon ma, let's go," he said quietly, then raised his voice for Golurk to hear. "Thank you again, sir. May we cross paths again so that I can help you in the same way you helped us."

Golurk gave a small, respectful bow. "Best wishes. Stay safe out there."

The Krookodile family bowed in return and hurried down the stairs, out into the dusky evening air.

Golurk watched them until they disappeared from his view, then sighed and sat back on yet another half-crushed pillar.

The tower, to his knowledge, was empty now, save for the few scavengers that might come crawling back looking for artifacts or other items of worth, and him, of course. It wasn't the loneliness that bothered him— he had resigned himself to it long ago, as he had always lived in the usually quiet tower— it was the state of his home. He didn't know how long he could bear to sit here and stare at the ruins of a once proud and breathtaking place. He could try to repair it, of course, but he had no skills to complete such an arduous task. He was much better at making a mess than cleaning up. It would take months, maybe even years, and there was no reassurance that Invictus's cronies wouldn't come back just to smash it up again. It was a colossal waste of time and energy.

Thoroughly disheartened by his internal monologue, Golurk pushed himself off the pillar and went to stare out of the hole in the wall. He could still see the now-minuscule specks that were the Krookidile family. It had always interested him, families like that. Loyalty that lasted a lifetime.

Truth be told, he had been tempted to follow them out when the mother had invited him to. He had lied a little- his attachment to the Dragonspiral Tower was fast fading now that it was nothing but a ghost town.

And I'm the one haunting it.

He hadn't followed her only because he knew he would be a burden, having no experience with the outside world. He would slow them down, it would be hard for him to hide considering his size, and times were just too tough to take on another mouth to feed (though, he really didn't need to eat unless he felt like it).

Maybe I can figure out how to make myself helpful. That way, the next group of passersby will want me to come with them. Or maybe, I can just strike out on my own.

The only thing that made him hesitate about going out alone was the fact he had absolutely no idea what was out there, beyond the thick forest and dirt path.

So… I guess that leaves Option A.

Physical strength had always been a good quality of his. There certainly were a lot of fallen pillars and other debris around the tower. With nothing else to do, he started lifting.

Meyers's talons kicked up grit on the heavily-trod dirt path that led the group through the dusty, half-destroyed town.

Rayzor followed as closely as he could, his eyes darting back and forth with unconcealable fascination as he watched the bustle that moved in a steady stream around them.

Unlike the town Bean and Meyers had found him in, this was one packed and full of life, the roads filled with lone travelers hurriedly wrapping their faces in shawls and walking briskly and full platoons of soldiers marching at leisurely paces, laughing and shoving at one another.

"Oh, dear…" Bean murmured under her breath. "I never did visit Serpentine in my lifetime, but to see it in such condition after hearing the tales of its beauty does break my heart a little."

"I- I came here once," Rayzor said, thinking back to the breathtaking canopy of trees that shaded the winding, snakelike roads from which the town had earned its name. Now, almost all of the trees were dead or had been crudely chopped down, hacked away by furious soldiers laying waste to the once-crowded streets. "It was really pretty, especially when the sunlight came through the trees."

Bean nodded and closed her eyes, as if she were imagining it. "I'm sure it was, darling. Maybe one day it will grow back into its former glory."

Rayzor murmured an agreement, unsure of what exactly to say, and looked back out into the flow of traffic. A family of Drilbur and Excadrill, a pair of Gurdurr, a lone Leavanny with a blood-stained bandage around her torso… He couldn't help wondering what all their stories were, and how they'd ended up here. He assumed most were running from the trail of destruction left behind by Invictus's forces, but were there Pokémon here looking to join him, or another army chasing his? And speaking of joining Invictus, why hadn't his soldiers come back to destroy this place that was obviously thriving and supporting the resisting community? Bean and Meyers had learned of it through rumors spread that Serpentine lived on throughout their journey, so surely some kind of news had reached Invictus. He'd heard the Samurott had spies everywhere.

Suddenly, in his mind, everybody became shifty and side-eyed, watching each other's every move as if they were looking for information to report.

He shook his head, quickly dispelling the fruitless vision. That's silly. It's safe here, especially if it hasn't been destroyed again since the initial attack.

Lost in his thoughts, his eyes wandered too far and when he blinked back into reality, he found his gaze locked on a group of rough-looking Bisharp leaning against one of the decommissioned trading stalls. One of them was looking back with narrowed eyes, watching him with what he thought was morbid interest.

Yikes! He wrenched his gaze away and hurried to keep pace with Meyers's strides, wondering if he was imagining the feeling of their eyes on his back.

"This looks like the place," Bean said after a few more minutes of walking, unfurling a wing to point in the direction of a slightly crowded stand with Pokémon milling about around it.

Meyers grunted and swung in the right direction, using his tail for balance and leaving smaller residents scrambling out of the way.

Rayzor resisted the urge to apologize for him and followed as quickly as he could, his skin still crawling.

Behind the trading post's counter was a weaselly-looking Watchog with ruffled, uneven fur. One of his eyes was forced shut in a perpetual squint. His good eye looked them over with apparent disinterest. "Aye, you're new. I would've recognized a group like ya." He swept one paw over the counter, dislodging any debris. "Whadd'ye need? Rations, I supposed?"

Rayzor noted that the shelves behind him were packed with small pouches that must have been filled with food.

Bean seized the conversation and nodded politely. "Well, dear, if you've got any to spare, that'd be wonderful."

He grunted and turned away from her, towards the shelves, before she could finish.

One side of her mouth twisted ever so slightly, but otherwise she showed no outward signs of annoyance. "But we're here to talk to your… navigation expert?" she tried tentatively.

He turned his head back towards them and leered with his good eye. "What, ye' don't know how to read a map?"

Bean shifted, obviously frustrated with his rudeness, but held her own exceptionally well. "Well, I'm sure you must know old maps can't tell us about things that are happening at this very moment. What map is going to have a revised version showing us the path of a dictator's army?"

The Watchog stopped moving, two pouches grasped in his paws, and for a moment Rayzor thought Bean's cheek would cause him to turn them away empty-handed.

Instead, the shopkeeper whirled around and scowled at them. "Fine. She's busy right now. Wait 'round the side of the stall, you're holdin' up the line."

Bean thanked him and they quickly scrambled away from the counter.

"He was an arse," Meyers growled.

Bean rolled her eyes and grumbled, "Tell me about it."

Rayzor hid a smile. He found himself fonder and fonder of the strange pair with every passing minute.

"If this navigator isn't back in five minutes, I'm leaving," The dragon announced, his tail sweeping away the dust behind him in a large arc.

Bean removed her spectacles and rubbed them against her fur to clean them. "There's no rush, my friend. We've got all the time in the world, if— "

"Oy!" A new, harsh voice rang out from behind Rayzor, making him jump.

He turned around to follow Bean and Meyers's bewildered expression and his heart sank as he saw a group of Bisharp swaggering towards them. There were three of them, all looking rough and battle-worn. It was part of the same group Rayzor had seen earlier.

He wanted to back away, but was afraid it would only egg them on. Instead, he held his ground and hoped they weren't looking for a fight.

Are they- are we supposed to be territorial or something? Uh… I didn't grow up with other Bisharp…

"Why the long face? We only want to talk," jeered the longest one. His face and head were covered with scratches and scars, and his hands were dented and jagged.

Immediately, the Bisharp to the left rolled her eyes and pushed in front of him. "Honestly, Rhyz, you have no tact. This is why we're never able to do our job."

Rhyz grumbled and crossed his arms, sending a sour glare in her direction.

The third Bisharp snickered.

"Shut it, Max!" Rhyz snapped.

"Why should I? You're obviously not in charge here," they retorted.

"I said shut it!"

The Bisharp who has told Rhyz off sighed. "Ignore them." She paused and looked him over with interest.

Rayzor hated the feeling of scrutiny, suddenly wishing he could hide behind Meyers.

"Not bad," she commented offhandedly.

"What's not bad?" he snapped defensively, not wanting to appear meek in front of them.

She shrugged. "Physique. Temperament. The Belle could make good use of you. The army's lacking good fighters these days. You lookin' for a job?"

He blinked in surprise. "Um- not- not really, thanks— "

"It wasn't a suggestion," growled Rhyz, stepping forward with a venomous look in his eyes.

This time Rayzor did step back, feeling Meyers's tail curl around his leg.

"That's enough," Bean said, a hint of warning in her voice. "He is not looking for a position in your army. Look elsewhere."

Rhyz's glare darkened further, and he took another step forward.

Rayzor could feel the vibrations of Meyers's growl. Panic rose in his chest. If they didn't stop, it was going to get violent—

Everyone jumped as a dagger flew past Rayzor's head and embedded itself in the wood behind Rhyz's head. He reeled in shock and looked around angrily. "Who the hell— "

"Me. Now shoo. I've still got another, and this time I won't miss."

Rayzor and his group whirled around to see a ragged looking Cinccino standing on the edge of the trading post's counter. A dagger identical to the one she had threatened Rhyz with was still in her paws.

The female Bisharp shook her head in contempt and turned away. "You two ruin everything! We're leaving. Bellatrix is going to kill us for not finding a single new recruit."

Rhyz sent one more venomous glare at Rayzor and stalked away with the others.

As soon as they had walked away down the road, Rayzor let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His legs felt a little weak.

"Thank you for that, ma'am. What in the stars was that about?" Bean asked, inclining her head respectfully to their savior.

The Cinccino snorted and embedded the other knife in a wooden support beam. "Stupid recruiters. They've been loitering here all week and they're absolutely pathetic. The lady should be doing it on her own, the other two are just dolts."

"Are they recruiting for Invictus?" Rayzor blurted, earning himself an exasperated look.

"If they were, we would have driven them out already. They're recruiters for Bellatrix's army. She used to accept only Bisharp, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so her soldiers have been everywhere, going after anyone who looks like they've got a fighting spirit."

Bean's expression was a cross between intrigue and concern. "Say, what was so important about Bellatrix again? I've heard that name before."

"Well, apparently it's awful rare to see a blue Bisharp," she answered, tapping her tails on the counter thoughtfully. "And according to her soldiers, she's the best fighter you'll ever see, but then again, there's obviously some bias there."

Bean nodded. "I see. Say, have you seen the navigation expert that works at this stall?"

The Cinccino barked a laugh and pointed at herself. "Sure, I have! Her name's Selkie and she's right here."

"Oh, wonderful!" Bean said. "It's great to meet you. We just had a few questions about the location of Invictus and Bellatrix's armies."

That interested Rayzor. Before, she'd only told him she wanted to know about Invictus.

Selkie's face darkened. "You're not plannin' to chase Invictus, are you? You'll end up dead for certain."

Bean shook her head. "No, no. We want to know where he is so we can avoid him. We're trying to go inland, but we don't want to be intercepted or otherwise find trouble."

Selkie nodded. "Smart, smart decision. Well, Bellatrix's base camp is behind us, so you won't have a problem. Invictus, though…" she muttered. "Follow me."

The group followed her into the back of the stall and watched attentively as she hopped up onto a table in front of a massive map of the region.

"We're here, first of all," she said, pointing to a spot on the map.

They nodded obediently.

"Last I heard, they ransacked Dragonspiral and are heading south."

Meyers inhaled sharply and Bean gasped in horror. "That's awful! How dare they target such an important and respected piece of history..." she said mournfully, lowering her wings.

Selkie growled. "They know exactly what they're doing. They think destroying highly revered places will throw the community's morale, and they're right."

Rayzor dug his feet into the dirt. The thought of such twisted creatures made his stomach churn.

"If you want the safest route, it's to go north and pass by Dragonspiral. That way, you won't bump into any tyrants or other generally unpleasant people by intercepting their route. They have no reason to return to places they've already decimated."

Bean bowed her head. "Very well. We will head north. Perhaps we can pay our respects at what's left of the tower. Thank you for your knowledge."

Selkie nodded and saluted them with one paw. "Anytime. Good luck out there. You seem like a nice, normal lot. I sincerely hope you don't run into any trouble."

They all gave her a quick bow and headed back out into the main road.

"Destroying the tower! Now I do want to chase them and claw them to pieces, starting with that bastard Invictus," Meyers snarled, his talons digging gouges in the ground.

Bean gently patted his head. "I know, darling. It's infuriating, and I'm one to try and avoid irrationality. Perhaps we can gather an army of our own and become vigilantes." She laughed a little at her own unlikely fantasy.

Rayzor half-smiled, but wasn't really concentrating on the conversation. The tower, the recruiters, the sudden addition of another enemy to their plate...

"Rayzor, honey, are you alright? You've been awfully quiet all this time."

He blinked and tried to ground himself back in reality. "Uh- yeah! I was just… thinking."

"Well, that's a start," Meyers grumbled, which did make him smile.

"Hey! I'm not the one trying to take on an army by himself."

Bean tsked and flapped her wings. "Now, now! That's enough, boys. We should get going so we can cover some ground before sunset."

Meyers nodded, and she bobbed up and down on his head. "To Dragonspiral," he announced.

"To Dragonspiral!"