Blanche and Candela waited for Spark to give the signal to remove the circlet from his head. Candela had requested that she be the one to wear the circlet again, since she'd been the one to do it before and knew what to expect. But Spark had insisted that he do it this time. He didn't say why, but Blanche thought they knew the reason, and agreed with the logic. Candela was overdue for an incident, and the last time she'd worn the circlet, she'd had a close encounter with Moltres. For Candela, using the circlet would be an open invitation for Moltres to channel its rage through her, like it had done before, and like Blanche feared it would do again.

"How's it going, Spark?" Candela asked.

Spark's unnaturally dilated pupils stared sightlessly through her. "Getting somewhere. Hold on."

Candela's eyes shifted to Blanche, and they could tell she was looking for some kind of feedback, or maybe just reassurance. She'd probably noticed the change in Spark, too. Of course she'd noticed, probably much sooner than Blanche had. They were always the last to detect shifts in mood or emotion. But whatever had altered within Spark as their group had traversed the tunnel had been sudden and dramatic. He'd been walking along with Rutabaga on his shoulder, carefully funneling electricity from the tip of her tail into Dillinger's communicator, and then…

Then, he wasn't Spark anymore.

Blanche mentally chided themself for thinking something so melodramatic. He was still Spark, obviously. But everything about him changed in a split second. His posture straightened, his jaw squared, and his eyes lost the softness so inherent to them. He called Rutabaga back to her ball as soon as she'd finished charging the communicator rather than letting her stay out with him. Even when the tunnel had opened up into the immense, hollow cone of the dead volcano, his affect remained flat and cold. Candela had exclaimed in wonder at the vast space and the narrow trail that corkscrewed up it, around and around, spiraling to a point so impossibly far above them that Blanche felt dizzy looking at it.

But Spark barely blinked as he led the way across the bottom of the cone, toward the start of the spiral trail. The blue light of the hundreds of blue crystal clusters illuminated an expression on his face that was at once familiar and foreign. The corner of his lip twisted up subtly, a smirk that could be mistaken for a snarl. It was the face Spark wore when he was up to something, some puckish prank or silly stunt. But there was a wrongness to it now that Blanche couldn't make sense of.

He had been the one to write the message, and for a moment, Blanche thought they'd been imagining the change in him. The message was so goofy and absurd and unprofessional and perfectly Spark-ish, and Blanche didn't even argue with him about the ridiculous inclusion of emoji. He'd ended the message with "XOXO," for crying out loud. He'd told them not to send it until he finished with Hypno via the circlet, just to be sure everything worked out like the message said it would.

"Blanche?" Candela pulled them back into the present and pointed at Spark.

A trail of blood dripped from his nose, but he didn't react to it.

"It happened to you, too. He'll be fine," Blanche said. "What's your status, Spark?"

That not-quite-right smirk played across his lips again. "Hypno found them. Dillinger's taking the bait."

"Good," said Candela, popping her knuckles eagerly. "OK, let's get that ring off of you."

"Wait," Spark said sharply, blindly extending his hand to fend her off.

"Is something wrong?" Blanche asked, their fingers poised to tap the controls on Dillinger's device.

Spark's mouth moved soundlessly, shaping loose, unspoken words. Paired with his distant, blackened eyes and bleeding nose, he was an eerie echo of himself. Blanche waited for as long as they could stand it before speaking up.

"Spark," Blanche said, louder.

"It's fine, it's fine," Spark hastened to reply.

A second streak of blood started from his other nostril, flowing faster than the first. Blanche wavered for several seconds before selecting the button to deactivate the circlet. Spark gasped as the device shut down, but the process went much smoother than it had gone for Candela. His pupils constricted and he slumped backward, allowing the ringlet to slip off his head and clatter to the ground.

Candela dropped down next to Spark and guided him back into a seated position. She immediately held the sleeve of her robe to his face to slow the bleeding, though her upper lip twisted in mild disgust.

Blanche knelt in front of them as Spark's eyes regained focus. Their entire body ached and their chest felt tight, but they supposed that some discomfort could be expected after having their heart restarted via electric shock. It was still hard to comprehend what had happened. Their heart started to pound every time they thought of that eternity they'd spent drowning in the frigid water of their own mind, so they couldn't linger on the memory for long. Best to lock such thoughts away.

"Are you OK?" they asked.

Spark reprieved Candela by substituting the sleeve of his own robe. His voice was muffled by it as he answered. "Yup. The deed is done. Can I see the communicator?"

Blanche didn't see a reason not to give it to him, but felt uneasy as he snatched the device from their hands. Spark immediately stood up and strode away from Blanche and Candela, a bit wobbly on his feet, but moving with determination. His thumbs flew over the communicator's surface, tapping swiftly.

"What are you doing?" Candela asked, holding her bloodied sleeve away from herself.

"Sending the message," Spark said, not bothering to look up from his task. "And… there. Sent."

He tucked the communicator into the sleeve of his robe and grinned at his friends, a disturbing sight considering the blood smeared across his face.

"Uh… you sure you're feeling alright, Sparky?" Candela asked, clearly as put off by Spark's demeanor as Blanche was.

"I'm feeling super, Candy," he replied.

"You don't say," Candela said, crossing her arms. "What were you typing just now?"

Spark limped toward the cart, which sat at the base of the trail, and rummaged through the duffel bag. "I wasn't typing anything. I just forgot where to find the message screen."

"Right. Fine. Let's try another question," Candela said. "Why did you want us to wait before removing the circlet-thing?"

"Just wanted to make sure Hypno was safe," Spark assured her as he pulled out a wad of clothing from the bag. "Ah, here we go! I was starting to miss my old style. How about you, Candela? Care to change into something with slightly less blood on it?"

Candela frowned at her bloodied clothes. "Yes, obviously. But you're not off the hook. What are you up to?"

Spark tossed Candela's clothes to her. "I'm not up to anything."

Candela grabbed the clothes out of the air with more force than necessary. "That's exactly what someone who's up to something would say. You're being weird, Spark. Weirder than usual."

Spark's laugh was hollow. "You want to talk about weird? Weird like an underground society of psychics that hasn't seen a real pokémon in a thousand years? Weird like bloodthirsty human-pokémon hybrids? How about the pack of murderous criminals coming for us right now? Or the legendary pokémon that have taken up residence in our skulls? Or the tiny little fact that Blanche died today? I mean, how weird is that?"

Blanche's heart accelerated. Suddenly, they felt breathless and lightheaded. It was like a stranger was speaking through Spark's mouth. His words were too sharp and his blue eyes had dimmed to the ominous gray of approaching storm clouds.

"Spark, you're scaring me."

Candela's words surprised Blanche. They watched how her fingers tightened around the wad of clothing Spark had tossed to her. She was telling the truth. Candela, the notoriously fearless leader of Team Valor, was afraid.

Spark's expression flickered and shifted, and just like that, he looked like the real Spark again. He sucked in a quick, startled breath and turned away from Candela, busying himself with sorting out his own clothes.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," he said sheepishly. His ears burned red as he bent to remove his brace and pull his pants on beneath his robe.

Candela loosened her grip and cleared her throat, and even Blanche could recognize the attempt to downplay her moment of fear. "It's fine. We're all anxious, that's all. It's a matter of time before Team Rocket finds their way here, and I have a feeling they won't be happy to see us."

"Right," Blanche said. They had to get back on track before time ran out. "When they arrive, I'll propose a temporary truce to Dr. Dillinger. There's a chance she already knows what Waik told us about the sacrifice to be made at the gate, considering her years of research on it. That will work in our favor. If she believes that we won't survive opening the door, she'll be more likely to agree with our terms, since she won't expect us to live long enough for her to fulfill her side of the deal."

"And what's her side of the deal?" Spark asked as he tugged his robe off over his head. Blanche caught a brief glimpse of the pink, still-healing scar across his back before he tugged his hoodie into place over it.

"Were you not listening to Blanche's plan?" Candela asked, sliding her arms into her jacket sleeves. "We already went over this in the tunnel on the way here."

"Crap, I'm sorry," Spark said. "I guess I was distracted."

"It's alright," Blanche said. "I'll give Team Rocket two options. The first option is for them to allow us to lead the way out of the mountain on the condition that they surrender to an official arrest once we're all out. If they don't agree to the conditions or refuse to negotiate, the second option comes into play. We'll tell them that we won't open the door, and will remain trapped down here with them unless they comply."

"Couldn't they just force us to open the door like they did the first time?" Spark asked.

"They could if they had the birds," said Candela. "But as far as they know, the birds are missing. We'll tell them we know where they are but will only call them if the Rockets agree to surrender."

"Dr. Dillinger will almost certainly agree to the terms of surrender if she believes that we don't know about the sacrifice," Blanche said.

Spark leaned against the cart. "But what happens next? Do you really think they'll surrender if we live to see the other side of the door?"

"If we make it, then it will be Team Rocket versus us and our three very angry legendary birds," Candela said, smirking.

"We'll aim to capture at least Dillinger. Alive, of course," Blanche said, directing the last bit at Candela.

"And if we don't make it?" Spark asked.

"Then we trust Articuno, Zapdos, and Moltres to let the door seal Team Rocket outside of the mountain," Blanche said.

"And then avenge our deaths," Candela added, and Blanche supposed the remark was meant to be playful.

Spark looked down as he donned his gloves. "And Team Rocket goes free?"

"No one will be there to take them into custody, no, but I wouldn't call them 'free' either," Blanche said, speaking before Candela could. "We've witnessed the rage that at least Moltres feels toward them. It will be a mercy for Team Rocket if we live, because we may be able to bargain with the birds for their lives. If we're not there to try to control them, the Rockets could be in grave danger."

Spark nodded solemnly and adjusted the lapels of his black and yellow jacket. His signature outfit had seen better days, but Blanche preferred it to the odd robe that Waik had given him.

"So, it's a win-win," Spark said with an ironical smile.

Candela snorted. "I don't know about you, but I'm rooting for the scenario that doesn't end with our deaths."

Spark mimed raising a glass to Candela, as if to say, cheers to that. Then he reached for his discarded robe and hunted through its folds for the communicator. He clicked through it as he cleaned the rest of the blood from his chin with the robe's sleeve.

"Can you see the other Team Rocket communicators?" Blanche asked.

"Unfortunately, no. They must be able to track our signal without transmitting their own locations," Spark said.

"Meaning we have no idea when they'll show up, or how many of them there will be," Candela said.

"I only saw about a dozen or so with Dillinger, but there could be other groups," Spark said, slipping the communicator into his pocket. "So, what do we do now?"

Blanche tightened their ponytail. It was a small ritual, one that gave them a sense of composure and control. There would be time to think about every insane thing that had transpired in this mountain, but it would have to wait until this last trial was over. If they survived it.

"We prepare as much as we can," Blanche said. "And we wait."