The river was surprisingly quiet, guess they had proven themselves to the watery and icy ferals by finishing off a big scary Inteleon earlier because none had surfaced in their journey to the edge of this road. Whiskey, galloping across the snowy earth, ploughs down these roads with haste, till eventually the river comes to an end. Waiting for them is a vast, insurmountable expanse of ocean waters, stretching out as far as the horizon.

There is no dock, would there be? No pokemon in their right minds would swim all the way around the Dusk Continent to come to a dock this far north unless they want to freeze over. Present around here are some water-types. The majority of whom are the sentient folks preying on their mindless kin, catching them for their delicious, succulent meats.

Whiskey carries the duo all the way to where the river ends and where a pitch-black shore begins. Stretching from horizon to horizon, the mass of black sand envelops the entirety of the dusk continent. On this side, the icy side, the waters are so cold in the dark season that the moment they touch the sand they freeze before the trio's eyes. Masters hops off, while Lucario clings to whiskey weakly, gripping his lochs for dear life.

"Well, we didn't come across an explorer trying to end us." Lucario speaks between laboured breaths. "What's your plan, 'M? Does your friend know you're here?"

"He knows I'm here - on the Dusk Continent, he doesn't know I'm waiting for him at the northern shore." Masters reaches into his hat, unfurling the cloth. The pattern etched into it shines in the moonlight. "Do any of you have a torch?"

Lucario looks at the Rapidash who shakes his head, his glittery hair swaying all around.

"No sir." Whiskey speaks. "A knight shan't lose his locks, for they are key to his regality. I can't let you take my pride from me, Masters."

The Typhlosion shrugs. Who needs a torch? He's a fire type, and so lights one of his two lanterns with spectral fire. He hoists the flame overhead,unfurls the cloth, and the radial symbol shines like magic. Suddenly, a thin beam shoots out of it into the horizon - rendering both onlookers utterly speechless.

Was that magic? Some kind of occult, summoning ritual? Lucario does not have the time nor intellect to figure out what has happened. He just stares out towards where this magical shooting star has flown. A figure emerges from where the moon and water meet, gliding inches above the cold dark surface of the sea.

A huge water-type pokemon emerges from the moon. Gliding along the waters at a speed which could make Winter envy him, Lapras arrives at the dark shore in mere moments, his shelled back waiting for the three explorers to hop aboard. He looks over his shoulder.

"Come along, Masters." Lapras beckons with a nod of his head. "Are those others new recruits? I'd be surprised."

"No, Team Chaser's gone. These are some trusted friends of mine." Masters forwards, limbing aboard the ginormous shell. "Take us to the Hidden Land, I need a break."

"Ah! The hidden land! Your new friends must be trustworthy indeed if you're taking them there of all places." Lapras turns his head to Lucario and Whiskey, nodding at them both in greeting. "Have either of you crossed the Sea of Time before? Both of you are in for a treat."

"No, I haven't." Lucario wanders down to the shore, the cold waters tickle his feet as he climbs aboard Lapras' giant shell. Whiskey follows suit, coiling his body around the larp lumps on the transport pokemon's shell. "How long is it until we get this hidden land or wherever?"

"No less than a day, eight hours or so?" Lapras glances back. "Your friends are fed, aren't they?"

"I have a few berries, they'll be okay." Masters smiles. "Anything else from you two?"

"No sire." Whiskey answers for them, and Lucario nods along, gripping onto one of Lapras' giant humps. "Lead us to this fabled land, traveller of the seas!"

Lapras laughs in response, and heads out, carrying them through the waves of an unimaginably cold ocean. Riding aboard his shell feels like being carried by the wings of a great flying type. They did not rock everywhere, there is no fear of falling off. The only thing they feel is the cool sensation of The Sea's winds against their backs, and the warmth of Masters keeping them all from frosting over.

After a while Lapras settles to a brisk pace, cruising over the unruly seas in a gentle stride. The waters are calm as far as the sea, and stars glisten above their heads like volbeat flickering in a swarm. Lucario, half awake, stares up at the brilliant skies while the equine fellow next to him turns his attention to their ferryman.

"What is your name, sir?" Whiskey asks politely.

"Lapras." The Ferry pokemon answers.

"Very well, sir Lapras." Whiskey smiles back. "Could you tell me more about these Seas?"

"I will tell you what I have told many other fallers: you became lost to the Sea of Time when you came here. What was once a barrier of temporal and spatial distortion has grown in immense size, and has developed an intrinsic connection to many mystery dungeons. Think of it as a vast dungeon spanning from coast to coast, some dungeons acting as gateways to it, and becoming lost into the sea is no different from being lost to a dungeon."

"The Sea is a horrid thing; knowledge of it is not to be given frivolously. It leaves its mark on those who understand it. Out of courtesy for your friends I can only say so much."

Whiskey nods softly, lying against the shell, seemingly content with the half-answer. A few minutes of silence pass, glacial seawater beating against the shell. Lapras looks back.

"What do you know about the Hidden Land, Lucario?" he asks.

"Other than it's around the Grass Continent, away from whatever's happening back home, and is probably safe - I don't know a thing. You can't make me care, honestly." Lucario slumps down, resting his back against the many grooves along Larpas' shell. "I didn't really agree to this vacation, and a safe place is a safe place."

His only experience with safe places are little hideouts the Krows have set up for their mooks like him. If asked about criminal activity or hideouts, you always act like you have never heard of it before. You pretend to forget where these safehouses are, and move on with the rest of your life

"It's not that I don't care about this Hidden Land of yours, but it's got Hidden in its name, I have to respect it don't I?" Lucario glances over at Masters. "Do I?"

"Not really. It's impossible to reach." Masters taps the giant shell they are resting on. "Lapras is the only pokemon I know who can take us there and back. There are others, but their schedules aren't nearly as open."

"Others? Are there taverns there? Bars?"

"It's called the Hidden Land, Lucario." Lapras chuckles, interrupting the two. "It wouldn't be hidden if there were bars and taverns there. It's a place beyond time, most of it being Mystery Dungeon, the landing and the garden are the two safest spots."

Masters' eyes shoot open.

"Garden?" The Typhlosion sputters. "Wait, did the big man take up gardening while I was gone? Who builds a Garden in the Hidden Land? There's no one there!"

Lapras' chuckling bursts into straight laughter. He picks up pace. The splashing underneath begins to fade away as they experience the sensation of slowly being lifted into the sky. They are rising - no, flying. Masters seems unphased by the fact they are now flying on the back of a giant water-type, or how he has begun to transport them at speeds thought to be borderline impossible

Somehow, the air gushing around them does not throw the three pokemon on his back into depths below. Other than this rising sensation deep within Lucario's gut, it is as if they had not left the waters' surface.. Lucario's too afraid to move, meanwhile Masters is up near the water-type's head, looking as if he is about to strangle the giant pokemon's neck.

"Hey! Did someone move in?" Masters frets

Lapras smiles back at him.

"They had asked me not to spoil the surprise."

The thought of falling off into the abyss was not one he could shake off easily. It kept Lucario wide awake, watching the fog roll beneath them, fighting the urge to reach out and grab the clouds overhead. Masters was uncharastically silent, his face puffed up the whole way through. While Whiskey is the only one really engaging with Lapras, occasionally asking little things about how life was in this place. What did guilds do? What were dungeons? Whiskey asked things anyone can answer, but Lapras seemed to enjoy the talk, answering each of the equine's questions in a rambling voice.

After the third or fourth repetitive back and forth it becomes background noise. Lucario's eyes grow heavy, the howling of wind transforms into a lullaby. He drifts off into a lousy sleep.

The next time he opens his eyes they have landed somewhere. Masters is about to elbow into Lucario when he shakes himself awake, and slips off of Larpas' shell onto a bed of soft, warm grass.

There are oak trees and pink wildflowers all around. Right of Lucario is a cliff where their ride lounges, and to his right, a path through the overgrown forest.. Giant mountains tower in the distance, and standing higher than any mountain is the literal tower floating on isles of broken earth. It feels like walking into a dream, nothing Lucario sees makes sense.

"Thank you, Lapras." Masters says, stepping out onto the grass. "Are you going to be waiting here?"

"Oh, no. I'll be gone to my usual spot." Larpas glances down at Lucario, helping him stand with a friendly nudge. "The Hidden Land is not the treacherous place you remember it, Masters. You and your friends are safer here than anywhere else. You will find the Garden as well as the person waiting for you near the Old Ruins."

Lucario hops onto his feet, glancing at Whiskey then at Masters, the latter with an odd gaze in his eyes. He seems worried, as close to as worried as someone an explorer of his prestige can be.

"How's the dungeon?" Masters asks.

"You've been expected, you'll have no trouble reaching the temple. The Temporal Tower is off limits of course." Lapras glances up to the sky. The big scary tower has a name after all. "I'm sure you can understand why."

Masters nods, and they watch as this giant pokemon swerves around, then tosses themselves off the ledge with pride, speeding off as though he were carried by Winter herself. Masters moves forward, and two strangers to the Hidden Land follow him down a path of oak trees and wildflowers. Truly, if it were not for the fact they had come here off the back of a flying Lapras, the Hidden Land seems no different than any other resplendent place.

The canopy shrouds the forest in darkness. They walk through the trees utterly unperturbed, only hearing the distant chitters and howls from holes cut through the floating isle. Normally, this means stepping in the wrong place could mean certain doom, but the sheer noise roaring from those pits generally means no one is gonna be stupid enough to stumble into one.

After an hour-long walk, the distant sights of mountains become broken up by old ruins and towers. Another hour passes, dusk slowly starts to crest the floating isle. Lapras must have outraced the sun, it seems.

The long road ends at the mouth of a giant cave. Masters sparks one of the lanterns. With a nervous look leads them inside. Upon seeing a cavern covered in vines, the visible fear twists into confusion.

"There are supposed to be murals here." Masters mutters. "All sorts of big shots. Guess no one's been taking care of this place."

"Murals of who?" Lucario asks.

"Nevermind." The explorer grumbles, shining his lantern near one of the walls. The walls are so thick with flora, it is impossible to see what lies behind the vegetation other the off speckles of color. "They don't want us looking at some old pictures."

Why is he so grumpy about old art? Masters clearly knows this place, maybe it's some embarrassing art of when he was a hatchling? Either way, he and his steed follow Masters through the tunnel.

Lucario eyes the stonework. Nothing about it seems special, his old dorm in halfway Rock was way better looking than this, but the sheer size of it all makes it seem as if a giant had punched a hole through the earths. Giant columns on each side hold up the mountain. Clumps of moss dangle down like long forgotten decorations, and the light on the other end of the tunnel is just far enough to be blinding.

Towards the end, just when they can see the steps of a huge something out in the light, Masters stops unceremoniously, turning to his attention one of these aforementioned murals. Two obscured figures, one pink, and one blue, hidden by vines. He steps forward, lays a hand on the brambles, and sighs.

"You praying 'M?" Lucario takes a step over to him. "I didn't take you as a prayer-person."

"I'm not."

Masters pulls on the vines trying to reveal what is behind it, but the vines are too flames flicker with futile rage at the hidden creature as grips onto his lantern and storms out into the light.

Whatever was supposed to be on the other side of the tunnel, nature has taken over it completely. The pyramid, gigantic and majestic, is blooming like a hill in springtime. Stubborn trees and flowers grow beneath the cracks in the stone, while moss oozes out of the stairwell, turning into a slick, deadly slide. Their side is nothing more than dirt, a path of stone to the stairs, and little cultivated bushes funneling them to the structure. The real garden, the one where Masters' friend is waiting for him, starts with the blue tree at the top and the other side of this giant thing.

Looking at the Pyramid makes Lucario's legs hurt, meanwhile Masters is already climbing up over the stairs. Whiskey is the only one in awe of this gigantic pyramid.

"Wow…" The horse speaks. Very insightful.

Still weary from the cold from two days ago, walking upwards feels like fording a river. Lucario can barely keep up with Masters. Every mossy step up is an exercise in anxiety, worrying he could fall back and break all his bones on the way down.

"Hey!" Lucario calls out.

Masters turns around. His red eyes glare from the shadow of his hat, and he continues climbing, burning the moss off the stairs with every step.

What is wrong with him? Lucario climbs up after the Explorer, and when catches sight of Masters halfway down the second stairs, his legs give in. As nice those pink trees look on the other side there is no way the garden is worth the extra steps. Lucario throws himself down on the bed of blue leaves, folding his frostbitten legs.

"Are you okay Sire?"

The horse clacks up the stairs, looking all around himself with an expression of pure fascination. Lucario groans.

"Yes, yes. I'm just tired! 'M's not helping!" He grips onto the nearby roots, pulling himself up against the trunk of the strange tree. "It's my first time crossing the pond. Floating islands are cool and all, but being here hasn't magically fixed me"

He looks down the stairs, watching Masters vanish into the trees below.

"Do you think 'M was trying to hurt me with that walk?"

"I would have gladly carried you, Sire." The Rapidash steps forwards, sitting his body down next to him. The pink glow of his mane meets the blue shining down on them, combining into a royal violet. "But you had insisted on walking. I, as your knight, can never go against your wishes."

"You can suggest things to me, you know? I appreciate you calling me Lord, and Sire, makes me feel cool - like a head Honchkrow. I'm not your boss, though. 'M brought up the idea of hiring someone fast to bring us back and forth. A friend pointed me in your direction, and we found you."

"You're a rapidash, at least you look like one. I thought you were supposed to be fire-types. You learn something everyday." Lucario kicks his legs, fighting off the numbness. "What was that thing you did earlier? The healing thing?"

"Heal Pulse? It's a battle prayer. If you were to fall over, I could mend your wounds, but there are some injuries only time can heal." He sighs softly. "If I could help you, Sire-"

"You would help me, I get it. You sound like 'M."

This guy is like, arcane to him, a walking enigma clad in glittery gowns. Talks like a fool, acts questions as if he were a fool, and is as loyal as one. How did the contract work? When is Whiskey done serving him? Can he just tell him to bug off forever? Only two things exist for this guy and it's his service to Lucario, and whatever the Sea did to him. He seems to be enjoying his new lease on life, missing memories be damned.

"Whiskey." Lucario speaks.

"Yes, Sire?"

He looks at the badge clipped to Whiskey's glowing mane. The pink crystal inside it is nearly the same as its wearers' fur.

"What does your badge do? It's not going to summon more super dangerous pokemon, is it?"

"My badge is a compass which points to others of its same guild. If it had the ability to conjure fiends, well, let's just say there are worse things to be than frozen."

That was kinda funny, if a bit morbid. Lucario snorts.

"I guess."

Fifteen years, fifteen years it took for this place to fall into disrepair. The walls are filled with weeds, moss, and all manner of overgrowth. No one is going to be using the thing at the centre of the stage because of the giant tree built in the key slot, never mind the fact the key to operate it is…well.

No one knows where it is. Masters wouldn't be travelling with a cloth if he had it.

Up above is a grizzly sight, a massive tower looms over them floating on a mass of crumbling earth. It is not the existential threat it once was. It's now a delipidated reminder dangling above the world, guarded by an unconquerable Sea of Time and Space. If the ship is unusable, then it is truly never to be touched again. All it is now is a memory.

Good riddance.

Since setting foot here, there has been this feeling of dread deep within Masters' stomach. The Dungeon has been tamed, the distortions have ended, and if there are ferals here they are most certainly docile. If the beast is here - then he is probably busy up in the aforementioned tower, existing, holding the fabric of time together with his sheer presence. Dialga may not be the crazed madman he was, but he could not be the one trying to surprise him, they are barely on speaking terms.

So what is Masters afraid of? This is the safest place in the entire world right now; nothing to worry about here. No matter how many times he tells himself this in his head his nerves remain shot, breath quivering, his blood stays ice cold. It feels like thousands of eyes are on him as he climbs down the pyramid, which suppose, there is one: the person waiting for him in the garden below.

A soft breeze travels up the mountainous ziggurat, carrying pedals through the air like pink, silky snowflakes. His footsteps echo, ticking down like a countdown. The road up ahead is like a portal to a separate world, one filled with lavish leaves and flora.

A few steps into the garden, he spits out a glob of fire, and slams it into one of his lanterns. His hand remains over the flame, gripping the weapon close. Masters steps forward.

Pink petals flutter down like snow, and flowers bloom all around. The old slate stones are polished to a near shine. This place could not be any more inviting than it is, yet here he is, almost sweating bullets.

Deeper he goes, entering a large area with his flames flickering with anxiety. A crude fountain had been erected in the centre of it, while tents made of the same reddish bark of these blooming trees are in the back. Instead of hay beds, they are crammed with flower petals. On the other side of the clearing: berry trees and a crude archway leading to nowhere. It feels less like a garden, more like a camp.

Who would be camping here? Who would have the time to plant all the trees and cultivate the flowers? It is absolutely a trick of the Hidden Land, it has to be. Maybe this is an apology for what happened in this very spot? No, it can't be. If Dialga had wanted to apologize, he would have brought De-

All of a sudden, like an arrow straight to his stomach, a dry sensation rises up to Masters' throat. Ice cold sweat gushes down his brow. He starts heaving, and his eyes dart around the garden in search of someone who no longer exists. No one is here! No one is trying to take his life! He is not coming back! Why are you acting like this?

Each breath demands more and more from him. His head rages, his body is weakening. Masters' legs give out as he crumbles onto the cold, hard stone. He leans on the lip of the fountain, tears inexctiably running down his face. A question repeats itself over and over.

Why couldn't be him instead?

His ears abruptly twitch.. There's a soft crackle in the distance, a snap of a twig or some other foliage. As quickly as he fell, Masters stands, drawing the fire out of his lantern into his hand. He scans the nearby trees, his heart raging.

Another crack, this time closer The leaves of a nearby tree rustle. Something is moving in the pedals, keen on ambushing him at his weakest. He grips the fire inside his palm, glaring towards the sound.

The silence is agonizing. Eventually, a pair of green eyes emerge from the leaves of the nearest tree.

"Cole?"

The voice is familiar, soothing. It has a gentleness to it he has not heard in a very long time. And fluttering down from pedals the same color as her is a face he never thought he would ever see. He erased that world. She can't be here. It makes no sense.

"Oh, that has to be you, Cole! No other fire-type has access to the Hidden Land. It's me, Celebi!"

He is frozen in place watching her flutter down from the trees. Her tiny hands instantly smother his cheeks, and he does not have the strength nor cruelty to pull away.

"My, you've gotten to be handsome!" She looks at him with such joy it is takes everything in him not to smile back "I always knew you'd be of course, but I have never seen a Typhlosion like you before, Cole.":

Tears come pouring down his face. He tries to speak, and all that comes out is a whimper. There are no words to express how happy he is to see her. If she is here, then she knows everything. He shuts his eyes, wraps his arms around the tiny legendary and holds her close. She lets it happen, embracing the explorer in silent solidarity.

An old friend thought to be lost to time is still alive