Chapter 37

Ascendance

Words did not come easily to Wartortle as he faced Moltres and Victini. Perhaps speechlessness was a side-effect of confronting two of the mightiest and most famous Pokémon in the known world. Legendaries. The heat pouring off of Moltres' body and the raw molten lava flowing along Iyrodenin's peak was not helping his focus either. The smoky air was taut with an inexplicable pressure, too, that had only worsened as Wartortle approached the Legendaries. To top it off, the black rock underfoot was unpleasantly warm. He rocked slowly from foot to foot, trying to keep them cool. All in all, putting together an appropriate sentence might take a while.

Victini's white pupils flicked between Wartortle and Quil. He floated higher into the air, away from the lava-riddled ground and out of reach. Was the Legendary honestly worried about a sudden attack from him or Quil, despite the already generous separation between them? Or was Victini preparing for an airborne assault of his own? Moltres shifted on her scaly talons to face the pair with torturous slowness. The voice from her fierce beak resounded in the air as if they were all standing in a tiny room instead of on an exposed mountain peak.

"Wartortle. Quilava. You have interrupted the most meaningful moment that I have experienced in decades. The threshold of an intriguing new chapter." Her fiery head crest swelled with vivid yellow flames. "WHY?!"

Wartortle squeezed his eyes shut and braced against the tirade. This is bad, this is bad! I can't think. What do I say? What can-

"Moltres," shouted Quil. "Do you know what the Electric and Ice boosts are doing down there? Have you seen the awful problems caused by Zappers abusing their new power? If you accept that rock from Victini, 'mon everywhere will suffer even more. Please, don't boost another Type!"

Moltres narrowed her eyes in the pause she always took before speaking. "You say this even as one of my own children. That is altruistic of you. Selfless. But very shortsighted. I care little for the fleeting existence of any ephemeral Pokémon. It seems with every flap of my burning wings as I soar the skies, far below another generation has come and gone."

"Please!" Wartortle added. "So many Pokémon will suffer!"

She unfurled her wings. Flames licked outward as she spread them. The cascade of bright embers she had effortlessly unleashed around her was mesmerizing. "Your interruption is inexcusable, your demands insolent!"

The toes on her talons curled, clutching the rock. She was about to take to the air. Heat washed over Wartortle's face as her voice screeched, "YOU WILL LEARN YOUR INSIGNIFICANCE!"

Here we go.

"Quil, default position, defensive attitude," Wartortle said, his words running over each other in his effort to get them out.

The Quilava's spots burst into flame as he replied, "Got it," and dashed to the left. One of the first actions they took in most battles was to separate so that no single hostile attack could hit them both.

Moltres' first wing-beats launched her into the air. Out of the corner of his eye, Wartortle caught Victini gliding away from her flaming wings. When he next blinked, Victini was gone.

That Victini is incredibly fast, he thought. Or maybe he can teleport?

He had no time to think, dismissing Victini from his mind as Moltres' throat lit up with fire visible through her open beak. Clearly Moltres was their greater concern, not Victini. A cone of roaring flame erupted from her mouth to engulf Quil as she flapped in place. He skidded to a sharp stop and rolled backwards, successfully evading the brunt of the attack, but his dodge placed him at the periphery of the fiery onslaught. The size of the Fire technique was astounding. If this was the intensity of a Legendary's attacks normally, a boosted Legendary's attacks would be truly cataclysmic.

Wartortle continued circling around behind Moltres, opting to get into an effective flanking position. The tactic might be worth it, since it would maximize the time Moltres spent turning about instead of using her devastating techniques. The flank took longer than he was used to thanks to the healthy distance from which the battle had begun.

The rock affected by Moltres' assault now glowed red hot instead of dull black. Quil, smoke curling from his body, wobbled left and right as the flames cleared. The Detect Band had been insufficient.

He's already about to faint? I thought Fire was resistant to Fire. What hope did they have if Quil was already one attack away from passing out? Wartortle stabilized himself as he drew upon his Pool and aimed at the back of Moltres' head.

Is there anything in the bag that will help against this? Any element of the landscape that we can twist to our advantage? Perhaps the better question was why Wartortle had hope to begin with. He let fly the Water Gun and hoped that the Legendary's defense was far weaker than her offense. The Special Band he wore might bolster his technique enough to do some serious damage.

Moltres instantly reacted to the touch of the water from behind. Her wings came down in a tremendous sweep, sending her arcing up and backwards into the air above Wartortle. Embers trailed in her wake. During a flawless double pirouette, she passed over Wartortle and dealt him a wallop with one wing.

He was still spraying his water when the blow sent him tumbling along the ground of the crater. A flash of heat burned his shell as he briefly skidded over what must have been the surface of one of the lava flows. When he came to rest, the edges of his vision pulsed from the encroaching darkness. He fought to stand up fully to get a better view of Quil, but could only make it to his hands and feet. That was when he spotted a speck of darkness against a nearby lava flow not ten feet away.

The talisman.

The tiny rock was orange, he recalled, but silhouetted against the glow of molten rock it appeared as a distinctive black. Wartortle could make out the crude likeness of Victini's face as the rock rested against the base of the flow. The cord had been caught in the rivulet of lava. The talisman itself was slowly being absorbed by the viscous fluid as it was dragged along the rock next to the flow. Had the rock been an ordinary one, Wartortle had no doubt it would have melted within seconds. This rock did not.

He could see Moltres attacking Quil in the hazy background. Quil had produced an exquisite smoke cloud against Moltres' offensive. Wartortle knew with grim certainty that it would do him little good.

"Hold on, Quil!" he shouted anyways.

"I was ancient before your ancestors hatched!" Moltres yelled. She settled her feet on firm ground before raising her wings up. The black rock beyond her talons cracked and shattered. Jagged pieces rose through the air to her eye level. Their lower portions dripped with the primal lava that churned below the crater's surface. She slammed her wings together. It was impossible for her to have produced a forceful enough wind for the large rocks to be launched at Quil's Smokescreen, but they did so anyway. Mid-flight, the dripping rock fragments collided to form a scorching boulder of ancient power.

Wartortle turned away from the horrific sight, but he still felt the colossal impact through his feet. He dashed toward the talisman, blinking his watering eyes against the heat produced by the lava and the weariness that threatened to make his limbs go limp. Abruptly, Victini was there. His orange fingers deftly snagged the talisman and hauled the cord out of the flow. Wartortle had stopped, surprised by the Legendary's sudden appearance. Victini turned to flash him a cheery face. He began floating upwards and away.

"No!" Wartortle cried. That talisman was their one chance! He readied a Water Gun to blast Victini out of the air.

Victini's smile widened. His form distorted, as if Wartortle was looking at the Pokémon through a lens. The smoky sky around Victini seemed to engulf him. Just like that, he was gone. Vanished.

Invisibility! Wartortle realized with a start. He never had exceptional speed, but the ability to disappear from sight! Yet he's still here. If he's floating away on the same trajectory, he should be...there!

Wartortle changed the shape of his mouth and leaked some air into his flow as he fired his water into the seemingly empty air. Bubble would have a better chance of hitting his target than Water Gun, and it might even slow Victini down. He fervently hoped that his aim was true. Otherwise, the battle would be lost. He stood no chance against Moltres, and Quil was more than likely already out.

A squeal of dismay. The air shimmered within Wartortle's stream of bubbles, resolving into a flailing Victini. As the bubbles striking him burst with loud reports, the talisman was torn from his grasp. Wartortle slammed his mouth shut and jumped as high as he could to intercept the talisman. He saw a wet Victini shrink back with his eyes wide as Wartortle reached forth an arm and outstretched hand.

Then he snatched the talisman out of the air.

Looking back, Wartortle would always imagine that moment with a different analogy in mind each time. And each time, the analogy would fail to do it justice. It was as if his whole life, human and Pokémon, he'd been trying to win at chess using only his pawns. After grabbing the talisman, he now had full command of all his forces. It was like previously, the world had been an old and blurry film in black and white. The talisman had torn the viewing screen asunder to reveal the real world in all its vibrant clarity. Before the talisman, he'd been a Weedle, and Moltres had been, well, Moltres. Not so anymore. Now he felt like he was the great Kyogre, legendary master of the vast seas. Moltres was a pesky cinder for him to swallow up at his leisure.

Wartortle landed easily with the rock and its cord clenched tightly in a fist. Unimaginable power flowed through him, in him, out of him, over him. It could not be contained. It could not be stymied. It could definitely never be stopped. Wartortle would not be defeated. Could not be defeated. His opponent was destined to lose, to be crushed by his will. This battle was his to take. To win.

He was victory given flesh.

As best as he could tell, he appeared the same. No radiance of power. No hum of vibrant energy. Moltres would have no idea what was coming.

She turned away from the dispersing smoke cloud and Quil's motionless form to face him. Already, her beak was open as fire gathered within. Another torrent of flames? Bring it on.

The same technique that had bathed Quil in livid flames blasted now out of Moltres' beak. Wartortle's face split into an eager grin before he planted his hands and feet and used his Water Gun. The rock beneath him groaned and cracked as the immense force of his water stream pressed him firmly against the ground. Like an Excadrill tunneling easily through loose soil, Wartortle's water plowed a path into the deluge of fire. A hollow roar reached his ears from the huge quantities of white steam being produced. The two attacks colliding looked like the sun in caricature: a roiling mass of white steam in the center, with yellow and orange rays of fire streaming outward. None of Moltres' fire could pass Wartortle's water stream. All of it either collided to become steam, or was redirected radially outward.

Moltres' beak clicked shut right before the water dowsed her face. Her talons grabbed at the air as she was knocked onto her back and outstretched wings. She craned her neck up to fix him with a glare before righting herself. Wartortle waited with all the confidence in the world as she flapped into the air. She wouldn't leave. Wartortle doubted that Legendaries knew how to run away. 'Flee' was not in their vocabulary.

Moltres circled the peak, a burning comet with a tail of embers and flame. He had to admit she was quite beautiful in flight, though the sight was rather ruined by her peppering him with more of the same Fire attack as she circled. The streams of flame resembled the emissions of a flamethrower. Wartortle avoided most of them. The ones he could not, however, were bothersome. If he were to stand still and endured ten or fifteen of them, he might eventually faint. As enjoyable as it might be to withstand the arsenal of a Legendary, some past incarnation of Wartortle advised him in his head that he should not make his boosted state obvious to Moltres. If only for that reason, it was time to end the battle.

With his sights set on Moltres, he sprinted to the northern lip of the crater. He could have sprinted laps around the crater all day without panting or growing tired. Hunkering down, he gauged Moltres' velocity. Then he leaped off Iyrodenin into the empty air.

After the sound of the rock shattering behind him from his jump, all he could hear was the roar of the wind past his ears. Never had he moved so fast. The mountainside fell away beneath him. Should he somehow miss his mark, he had enough speed to carry him all the way to the sea when he finally landed. He would miss Iyrodenin entirely. Of course, missing was impossible. Even when Moltres veered left and flapped hard to avoid him, he still slammed into her neck all too quickly.

The body heat emanating from Moltres was formidable, but to him it was a mere annoyance. He allowed his baser nature to take control. He hugged Moltres' slender neck close before opening his mouth wide and chomping down hard. Moltres squawked. He'd made one of the Legendary Birds actually squawk. Wartortle's cheeks dimpled as he sank his hard lips and fangs in deep. His eyes flitted sideways as she banked sharply. The peak of Iyrodenin wobbled closer. Scrambling down the soft plumage of her back, he set his eyes on the muscled base of her left wing and bit down anew.

The wing reflexively contracted, filling Wartortle's vision with feathers and flames. Moltres must have crash landed because a moment later he was suddenly thrown from her body by a violent impact. Before his body had flipped even once through the air, Wartortle had fully oriented himself to his position and direction of travel. He was set to plunge headfirst into a flow of fresh, hot lava from the crater's center. Using his Bubble at the last second was a simple matter. Fun, even. The force of the enormous bubbles bursting on the lava propelled him briefly upward. He twisted in the air and visually located his opponent before landing gracefully on the warm rock.

On foot once more, he squeezed his hand for the reassuring weight he knew to be there. Except that it wasn't. He glanced down. His hands were empty.

No! The impact – the talisman must have been ripped out of my hand. Still, the power continued to course through him. Still, he was unstoppable. Victini said the energy remains for 'a few seconds'. Enough time to decide this battle.

He bounded easily over the lava flow, reaching a height of some thirty feet. Moltres was able to stand, but she clearly was in bad shape. She held her head low and her wingtips sagged to the ground. Her chest heaved with her breathing.

As Wartortle's legs smashed into the ground, her posture straightened in preparation for some technique. He did not give her that chance. Before the tiny pieces of rock dislodged from his landing had time to clatter to the ground again, he'd already set his hands down and fired a boosted Water Gun into her flank. He could feel the residual energy from the talisman drain rapidly away with that final attack. The flow of his water narrowed and slowed to its usual level. His accuracy wavered. His knees began to shake with the effort of bracing himself. The fearless confidence blew away like so much dust before a gust of wind.

Wartortle ended the Water Gun and collapsed to the ground with his limbs splayed outward. After a quick breather, he raised his head with an effort to peer up at his opponent. Moltres' flames burned low. She was lying on her side, her neck and head flat against the rock. Every few seconds, her left talon twitched as if trying to claw someone. Other than that, Moltres was motionless.

I just defeated a Legendary Pokémon in battle.

The thought floated through his mind proudly as if it should have attracted full attention. Evidently the part of Wartortle's brain that sorted thoughts by importance was currently on vacation, because the words' significance was lost on him.

"Good fight," he heard himself say. Then he released the tension in his neck muscles and face-planted into the rock.

Wartortle let three or four minutes pass him by. He seriously needed the reprieve. His body felt like it had been soaked in acid then wrung of every last drop, leaving a shriveled husk in a shell. Just desserts for a fool that had tried to hold something in his hand through an entire battle. Victini had designed the talisman to be worn on the cord, so that's what he should have done.

The heat of the volcanic rock against his face grew to be too much. As he stood and picked his way carefully over to Quil, Wartortle scanned the rock where the talisman might have fallen. There was no hint of orange among the blackness, nor any silhouette amid the lava flows. The talisman could quite possibly have been fully absorbed into the flows. Or it had bounced off the peak. Or fallen into a crevice. Since he hadn't noticed when or where he'd dropped it, the talisman could be anywhere.

He extracted one of the blue Oran Berries from the backpack's rugged pouches. Understandably, it was warm to the touch. He pulled open his friend's rounded snout and placed the berry between his teeth. Quil groaned as Wartortle closed his mouth for him.

"Chew this Quil, it's an Oran."

The Quilava's fires sputtered to life as he blinked his groggy eyes and continued chewing. Wartortle smiled as the berry worked its magic. He refrained from enjoying one himself since the berries were so valuable, but he wanted Quil conscious for whatever came next.

As he scanned the area for signs of Victini, he was taken aback to see Moltres crouching on her talons, staring at him. Though she did not show vim and vigor, she'd nonetheless recovered more swiftly than any Pokémon he'd yet encountered. Fitting, for a Legendary. She made no move but to study him with her eyes. Wartortle approached, ready to use his water should she initiate another battle. He made an effort to lift his tail to prevent it from dragging. Without the talisman, none of his attacks could normally bring him victory against the Legendary, but she had to be very weakened at the moment. Theoretically.

"You defeated me," she said in a tone as robust as before the fight. "Even having not achieved your Blastoise and Typhlosion forms, you were my match."

Quil joined Wartortle, rising to his hind legs at his side. A quick glance revealed that his expression was uncertain, even disbelieving.

Moltres went on. "You battle unlike every challenger who has come to Iyrodenin's peak. Your techniques and movements were clever. Tactical. You came equipped. You communicated." She focused her intense gaze on Wartortle. "In the latter half, you displayed power and proficiency that I have rarely seen. Know that impressing me is very difficult. I misjudged you. I will listen to you speak."

Coming from Moltres, the praise was a serious, even somber affair. But never had he been more pleased to hear a Pokémon tell him how unlike other Pokémon he was. When a Legendary said them, the isolating words felt like a compliment for the first time. Wartortle smothered a bashful grin. They had earned an audience before Moltres of the Legendary Birds. Now was no time for vulnerability or levity.

He glanced at Quil again. Same stunned face. Wartortle would have to take point in the conversation. What to say though? He sorted priorities in his mind and worked out important topics to raise.

"First, thank you for your generous praise, Moltres. The battle was a helpful learning experience." Well-mannered respect would be a good start. If any Pokémon favored tradition and propriety, it would be one that had lived through countless generations.

Moltres' beak dipped in such a small motion as to be nearly imperceptible. So far, so good! Wartortle thought to himself.

"Moltres, why would Fire-types be boosted if you accepted Victini's power? I don't understand the connection."

"Are you familiar with Wooper Lake?"

"I am!" Quil put in, his voice a contradictory mix of caution and enthusiasm. "It's a big lake that makes the northern border of Steady Steppe. Lots of rivers and streams from the mountains dump into it."

Moltres lifted her head and gazed off the southwestern edge of the crater. "Imagine that all children of my element reside in Wooper Lake. Every Pokémon in this world that draws upon Fire. The ultimate source of that Fire would be the great mountain ranges of this island. And the conduit that links them, the rivers. The power of Fire steadily flows into the lake by these surface flows, but sometimes their state can be drastically altered by external forces. An offshoot diverting potential lake-water elsewhere. A heatwave drying them up. A severe rainstorm flooding the rivers."

She returned her focus to Wartortle and Quil. "I am that conduit. Victini's power is one of those external forces. As one of the rivers feeding the lake, a metaphorical heavy rainfall upon me would bolster my flow. The lake's volume would increase and its waters grow more turbulent. That is the simplest analogy I can construct for you."

Wartortle folded his short arms. "So you're not the source of Fire, but you're tied to it. What affects you can also affect your element."

"Is it the same way for Zapdos and Articuno?" asked Quil. "They are both, uh, real, right?"

"Yes. And yes." Her tone was condescending. Uh-oh. Condescension could quickly give way to irritation. Wartortle was going to shoot Quil a subtle warning glance, but he had already gotten the message. His mouth was firmly shut and his eyes averted.

"You said 'Every Pokémon in this world'," Wartortle said. "Where in the world are we?"

"A very large island. Far from any mainland. Humans," she lingered venomously on the word, "call it Preserve Alpha."

A hundred facts clicked sequentially in Wartortle's brain, a chain reaction of enlightening realizations. Preserve Alpha. Of course it would be Preserve Alpha.

Preserve Alpha was the largest and also the most removed reserve on the planet. The roughly circular island was host to a diversity of climates and biomes, as Wartortle had seen for himself. Unlike most other protected reserves, Preserve Alpha's policy was 'Absolutely No Humans Allowed'. No ecological studies. No hidden research stations. No tourism. The policy was the strictest of all the reserves. Being isolated in the middle of the ocean helped to enforce the policy, despite the availability of high-speed aerial and aquatic transportation that human society had nowadays. To his knowledge, no human had set foot on the reserve in decades, maybe centuries. It was to exist completely naturally. To be an untouched bastion for the evolution of natural Pokémon in all possible senses of the word.

Since recovering the majority of his memories, Wartortle had suspected that he may have ended up in a Pokémon preserve. This being Preserve Alpha validated that conjecture, as well as cleared up countless mysteries. It explained why Quil had never heard of humans. It explained why there was no sign at all of human influence. Why Pokémon culture was so thoroughly 'Pokémon'. The existence of unique flora found nowhere else, like Blast Seeds and Heal Seeds. The mixing of Pokémon endemic to disparate regions. An active volcano of which he'd never heard. And more.

Quil hip bumped into his shell. "I've never heard of Preserve Alpha or humans," he said with subtle emphasis.

Right. Wartortle's reaction was highly suspicious, for an ostensibly 'ordinary Pokémon'. Moltres was answering their questions. They did not need the focus of the conversation to change to Wartortle. He quickly raised another question as he felt Moltres' gaze bear down upon him.

"Why here? Why did you choose this place to live?"

"Humanity is absent." Wartortle blinked. She did not elaborate.

Okay then. I'll try not to take offense to that. "Zapdos and Articuno also live on this island right? Is there a reason you stay near each other when you can fly anywhere in the whole world?"

Moltres' pause was longer than usual. Her wings shifted on her back, tossing up embers and a fresh wave of heat. "You cannot understand. I have lived through eons. I have explored this planet many times over. Pokémon have endlessly hatched and died around me while I remain untouched by the inevitability of time. My life is removed from the happenings of this world in a way that very few beings can understand. Fewer still can relate to the way I experience existence."

"Must be lonely," Quil murmured. If Moltres heard, she did not react.

"I enjoy sharing the company of neither Articuno nor Zapdos. Our temperaments conflict. Nonetheless we will always be a trio. We are the only beings of this world that each fully empathize with the lives the other two have been given. I would never greatly separate myself from them. Nor would they from me."

"We currently pass our time on this island because we share a distaste for, and distrust of humans," she added like an afterthought.

Hm. Informative and honest answer, if sad. He peered up at Moltres' stately face, trying to detect a glimmer of melancholy. All he saw was patient attention. I'm surprised she's willing to take the time to answer all our questions when she initially jumped right into a furious attack. We'd better wrap this up in case she abruptly loses interest before the critical discussion: stopping the boost.

Quil's expression reflected the gloom he'd expected to see in Moltres, but he did not appear to have any questions to ask. Victini was nowhere to be seen, though with invisibility, he was more than likely hovering right there and listening to the conversation in full. Or he might just now be finding the talisman and bringing it over to Moltres. They might be interrupted at any moment by Moltres becoming boosted by Victini's power, thus ruining their goal in coming to Iyrodenin. The time had come to cut to the chase.

"Thank you for answering our questions, Moltres." He swallowed, preparing his best speech-giving voice. In other circumstances he would have asked Quil to speak, but Moltres was the wrong audience for Quil's style. An emotional appeal, forging a personal connection between Pokémon, was not going to work on the ancient, solemn Legendary.

"As you know, we came here to prevent Fire-types from being boosted in power. We, in fact, are the founders of a movement called the Resistance which is dedicated to alleviating the negative results of the current imbalance of Types. Oppression. Pain. Hopelessness. Jealousy. Distrust. Of course these all occur in a balanced world, but the boosting of Electric-types and more recently Ice-types has greatly exacerbated them. The Resistance can and has been successfully combating these ill effects. Once I realized that the Legendary Birds might be connected, Quil and I set out to find the source and return things to normal once and for all."

Moltres watched him speak. Her beak was shut, head crest burning steadily. She was unreadable, even more so than other Flying-types.

"Moltres, I have no doubt that Victini will come back and offer you another of his talismans. For whatever game he's playing, or whatever reason he might have. Please, do not accept it."

"Please," added Quil. "I'm a Flame, and I still don't want this boost. It would just make things worse."

For a long moment, the peak was quiet. Only the languid bursting of lava bubbles and the ocean breeze made any noise. Moltres seemed to actually be reconsidering the proposal. When she spoke, however, Wartortle's face fell.

"No. I intend to receive this 'boost'. You have already heard me declare how important this event is to me. Were you as old as I, you would appreciate the value of every significant change, regardless of its potential for benevolence or malevolence. Be at ease knowing that no change lasts forever."

Wartortle cut the air in front of him with the claws of one hand. "If the boost lasts even a year, that is an immense amount of suffering that you could have prevented!"

"One year. A blink of my eyes."

Wartortle couldn't stop a snarl at her indifference. To that, too, Moltres appeared indifferent. She said, with a glance at Quil, "I look to the coming prosperity of my children with anticipation. However, if you wish to mitigate the turmoil caused by the changes, as you say, I recommend you meddle with the affairs of my counterparts. End their 'boosts'. I encourage you to do so. Your interference would make these times even more interesting."

That was not what Wartortle had expected. Moltres was openly encouraging them to backstab Zapdos and Articuno on her behalf. Apparently there was no love lost among the Legendary Birds. He exchanged a look with Quil. This, even after her speech about Legendaries sticking together? The unique empathy they shared? Was this a trap of some kind?

"Oh. I see." Wartortle said, confused.

Moltres let out a single, soft screech. "Pokémon like you two are uncommon. You especially, Wartortle. Together you may find success. Being the only one with a stone of Victini's would prove amusing."

"How do we find them, Moltres?" Quil asked.

"I will tell you where they roost. Zapdos may be found on the island's southwestern coastline. Look for the tall formation of jagged rock rising alone amid the plain. From the ground, it can be seen for many miles. At its peak, you may find Zapdos. On the island's northeastern coastline, a narrow, mountainous peninsula reaches into the sea. A fortress of ice rests at the peninsula's tip. There you may find Articuno."

The Legendary Birds must have a thing for high places with ocean views, thought Wartortle while keeping any mirth from his expression. The given directions were nonspecific but nonetheless practical. They would do. The locals would be able to point them in the right direction if they needed it, anyway. The locations sounded like well-known landmarks.

"Understood," he said, and Quil expressed his thanks.

"I believe Victini has chosen to not reveal himself again in your presence. I have spoken my mind, and you yours. Leave my volcano."

Wartortle turned to Quil, seeing a rising desperation on par with his own in his friend's face. All in all, they'd accomplished nothing save for learning a few useful facts. Fighting Moltres would do no good; without a talisman they would lose for certain and then be forcibly removed from Iyrodenin. But if they left peaceably, she would be boosted by Victini. The little Legendary would be on guard this time around for any ambush or attempted thievery. No doubt he'd become invisible at the first sign of trouble. Even if the pair succeeded at interrupting them or stealing a talisman, Victini would vanish and make another for Moltres once he was assured they had left.

Any way Wartortle sliced it, the Fire boost was inevitable. He looked up to Moltres and opened his mouth to ask her to reconsider accepting the boost. No convincing argument was forthcoming. There was no twist he could add, no bait to dangle in front of her beak.

Moltres must have sensed him floundering. "Now." Her great wings unfurled with an accompanying wash of warmth. Not five minutes prior she'd been laid low, yet now her shakiness was gone and her fires whipping vigorously with the breeze.

Quil turned to scamper away from the Legendary's threat. Wartortle gave a bow of his head before following. He descended from the volcanic crater, away from Moltres and Victini. Away from the origin of the impending Fire boost. The calamity was beyond their power to stop.