Yellow was going to swear off boys for life after arguing with Silver. How does anyone—anyone on this planet — get them to listen to reason? They were far too stupid and nasty to do anything that didn't involve their big, dumb egos!

She wasn't even sure what they were arguing about anymore. Just yelling insults at each in rapid-fire succession and trying to win the fight in a successful knockout.

"You're the dumb one with the dumb face!" Yellow snapped, hopping at each remark, "Not me!"

"You don't even know things! You don't even know stupid things too!" Silver retorted as he tried to tower over her. "You're just dumb!"

"You —!"

"What is all this shouting about?" A demand sliced through their little fight. "I can hear you all the way from my office!"

Ariana. She wanted on them after the commotion from the desertion alarm went off. Yellow bowed stiffly, now regretful of her silly actions that led her master here. Of course, the Executive was going to ream her out for yelling at her only son.

Silver turned on the boyish charm, extending his arms out towards his mother. "Mama! Yellow didn't want to play masks with me! I was going to make her."

Liar. Yellow couldn't even touch those stupid, creepy masks—not that she even wanted to. She eyed the colorful disguises, wondering if they would follow her all the way back to her tiny bedroom and cause a ruckus like tiny poltergeists.

Ariana easily snatched up the bait, embracing her small son. "Oh, my little prince. It is getting late and I should take Yellow back to her room. But I wanted to make sure that you were alright — did the alarm frighten you?"

Silver absorbed his mother's attention like a needy and clingy sponge. He shot a mean look at Yellow before burying his head into the safety of Ariana's bosom. The girl forced a scoff to crawl back down her throat and not cause any more trouble to land on her head.

"Mama, make Yellow come back," he cawed, "Father said she had to. Make Yellow play with me."

"Of course, my darling prince! Anything you want! My student will come back to play whatever game you want."

One comment from Giovanni or Silver and Ariana crumpled like paper. It seemed the sisterhood did not extend to Ariana's male family members nor should create some inconvenience for her. Yellow could see Ariana's mental cogs churn to think of ways to punish Yellow for insolence towards her child.

To save herself, Yellow drew up a pitiful look. "Madame Ariana, I'm sorry. But the masks don't fit me. Young Master Silver sees them as so precious, and I would hate it if I broke them."

Silver narrowed his eyes, ready to pounce and declare her a liar. However, Ariana mused over the statement.

"That is true, my dear," the older woman remarked. "Silver, sweetheart, perhaps I can buy you some little masks for Yellow to play with. So that she doesn't break yours."

"No, Mama, only Grandma buys me masks!" Silver firmly denied, now upset that his precious balance and routine was altered. "Grandma can buy me more masks! Tell Grandma to give me more here!"

Ariana visibly flinched. Yellow suspected that the Executive did not have a good relationship with whoever "Grandma" was. Judging by her intense mediation on how to proceed, their relationship history appeared to be very poor.

"Yes, about that…" Ariana trailed off. "Grandma is very old and traveling here makes her very tired. Perhaps you can call her?"

Silver stomped his foot. "Grandma can come here! She loves me!"

The Executive sighed, casting another look over Yellow, "We'll discuss this later. Amarillo. Come with me. Playtime is over. Silver, time to get ready for bed."

"No! We weren't done!" the heir refused. "I have stuff to do!"

Now Ariana put her hands on her hips, bending over to Silver. She had an ace up her sleeve and was ready to use it at a moment's notice to quell a nasty little boy. To Yellow, it seemed like Ariana was eager to use it.

"Argue with me again, and I'll tell your father," she threatened.

Instantly, Silver backed down and cowered beneath Ariana's promise. A flash of worry came across his face before he plopped down on the floor in order to scowl properly. Two hot scoffs bounced off the walls.

"Fine," Silver mumbled. "I'll get ready for bed, Mama."

Ariana nodded before motioning to Yellow. "Come, Amarillo. I have no time to lollygag."

With that, she whisked Yellow back to her bedroom for another night of dreamless sleep.

x

"... Archer, I have always let you handle Lancelot. But did you have to punish him this way when we experienced an attack?"

The senior Executive bowed. "Sir, he will not learn otherwise. That boy is willful."

Giovanni sighed, taking another drink from his glass. His office was quiet now — perfect, since his headache was erupting again from the alarm. He was fortunate that he had slinked away to his office beforehand to get some peace.

But this was going to set him off. Lancelot had too much to do than waste away in isolation. Giovanni could feel the boy's aura through the walls even now. Honestly, it was more irritable than heart-wrenching — but that could be Giovanni's grumpiness from the headache.

"Do not push him too hard," the Team Rocket leader warned. "I cannot have Lancelot vulnerable when our psychic attacker runs loose. Is he well-protected?"

"Yes, sir," Archer said. "I have complete control over the room. Nobody will come in or out. They do not even know he is there."

Fat chance. Rumors spread like wildfire down in Team Rocket; undoubtedly, they will piece it together. However, Giovanni didn't want to think like that. Last thing he needed was to be set off again.

"Fine," Giovanni said, finishing his drink. "Lancelot is your responsibility, Archer. If something happens to him, you will pay for it."

Archer's face didn't change expression, but he still swallowed nervously. "Yes, sir. I will let nothing happen to Lancelot."

"He is your child, Archer, and I expect you to take this role seriously."

"He is my student, and I have taken this role seriously since he was born, Master Giovanni. I do not intend to squander our forest children."

"You are too hard on him, Archer."

"I am too soft if he still tries to escape me, Master Giovanni."

Giovanni didn't want to have this argument again. Archer was many things — a great Executive, a skilled assassin, a devoted bodyguard, and a talented doctor were a few of them — but he was also stubborn as hell.

However, his Executive had a point. Lancelot was willful and perhaps it took a stone-hearted guardian like Archer to mold him into a great Executive. They complimented each other.

"Two nights, Archer," Giovanni ordered. "Do not keep him there any longer."

"Understood, sir," Archer agreed. "When I bring him before you, he will be an obedient child again."

Something that Giovanni did not want. He wanted Lancelot to tap into his latent forest powers and not have them dampened. Alas, this time couldn't be helped. The boy tried to run, and he had to be punished accordingly.

Before Giovanni could dismiss Archer, another Executive blew down his office door: Ariana.

"Your son —" Ariana said as she slammed the door, " — Has insisted that your mother come and bring him another gift. I demand you inform him that your mother is currently dwelling in whatever circle of hell she's latched onto and cannot abide by his request."

Archer stepped back, taken aback by his colleague's flagrant statement, "Not now, Ariana."

Giovanni gave a tight-lipped smile before nodding at Ariana. "It has been nine months and Mamma dislikes her newest facility. She's called me several times and accused the staff of stealing her things."

Ariana stuck her finger into Giovanni's face. "She can rot there for all I care. I would pay the staff to steal her things. I do not want her here. I do not want Silver to be bought off by more of her ridiculous little masks and gifts!"

This was the moment that Archer knew he had to bail from this conversation. Getting involved in the Sakaki family business was a bear trap waiting to spring around his ankle. He curtly bowed and left Giovanni to his hot-headed lover.

Part of Giovanni wished Archer stayed so he would not have to bear this alone. His headache was increasing in pain as Ariana raved against having his mother here. But he knew that this was one thing that not even Archer's cool tongue could calm.

"If Silver wants to see his grandmother, I do not see an issue with this," Giovanni said. "Mamma is not… that difficult, mi amor."

"Oh, like hell she isn't! Have you met your mother!? The reason she's switched between four nursing homes in two years is because they refused to take your money for putting up with her!" Ariana snapped, "There's not enough coin in all the coffers of Team Rocket to deal with her and may Arceus grace whoever does!"

This was true. Giovanni did not have the best relationship with his mother — in fact, he ran away from her in order to break free. But she brought him back. She always did as she was a cunning woman.

She was hard on Giovanni as well. And eventually, Giovanni broke to become the man he was today. It was necessary to do so as the Team Rocket leader realized when he grew older. But it didn't mean he had to put up with her every second now that he was grown.

But Silver wanted to see his grandmother. And part of Giovanni would always miss his mother, regardless of how she felt about him. He loved her, as all boys love their mothers. It was why it was so important that Silver treat Ariana well.

Plus, it was his mother that made him crave angry and strong women like Ariana. Oedipus complex in the worst way. Giovanni was weak for it and he begged for more when he was down on his luck.

There was an old saying from his mother's homeland — one he heard many times.

"Boys push girls into dirt because when they get older, their wives push them around."

Hopefully, Silver would be spared that life. Then again, Giovanni couldn't imagine his life without a woman to hold his neck up and direct his head on where to look.

Of course, convincing his angry Ariana was going to be a whole other task. He had to get through his headache and work on that charm that made her weak.

x

Shit.

That word slid hard against the forefront of Archer's head as it raced across his brain. He knew he should have walked faster to his office.

Lieutenant Sird was at his office door, waiting for him as always. Archer had to force down a groan as he prepared himself for another boring word salad about to come from her mouth.

If only he had walked faster. And if only Elite Captain Lixue was not at the conference room across the base, which gave him an excuse to swing by there. Archer would have been back and could lock his door to prevent the unwanted intrusion into his mental health.

Best to get on with it.

"Lieutenant Sird," Archer greeted stiffly, "Have you come with another report?"

"I did," Sird answered, bowing respectfully towards him, "Executive Archer, I have updated schematics on the Sevii Islands labs. Allow me to inform you."

That was the illusion of choice and Archer knew it. If he politely dismissed her, she would insist. And then Archer was more behind than he originally started. Besides, Sird looked forward to these stupid meetings — hell, she better not have some romantic interest in him. Last thing Archer needed was a stalker of his own when he was currently involved with cultivating another relationship.

While Archer didn't mind women throwing themselves at him, he minded it when it interrupted his day. Besides, he had to set an example for Lancelot. The boy did not know how many women have ruined Archer's life and all because Archer was young and dumb enough to get involved with them.

Lixue was different, though. Everyone knew that.

"Very well," Archer said, bracing himself, "We'll speak in my office."

Once the door closed, Sird wasted no time. Archer barely had time to sit down before she droned on about… something or the other. Mundane, insignificant, and useless in the grand scheme of things.

Archer cursed his luck; the other Executives could not bear her for long. Ariana immediately dismissed any talk of her being on his team, and Petrel put his foot down. Both claimed that Sird drained them of patience and mental fortitude.

Petrel's exact words were "The dame sucks me dry and not in a good way."

Archer noticed nothing beyond her being annoying. Still, he sent her off on dead-end missions to keep her from irritating him. Perhaps the rainforest would work this time in order to recover from this boring and brutal beating.

However, this one was vulgar and offensively dull, even by Archer's standards:

"As for the bolts ordered, we agreed on a 1/8th metal screw with…"

"The lab results, when accounting for overcorrection, was .0002—"

"And the control experiments for the pharmaceutical drugs…"

Archer sat back in his seat, agitated at Sird's useless conversation. He gave it about thirty more seconds before he decided to tap out; any longer and he would fall dead over from boredom in his seat.

"Enlightening," Archer cut her off, "I will look into it."

Sird drew a smile, "If you don't mind, Executive…"

He did. He absolutely did. Archer minded so damn much that he could have shot her just for asking. In fact, part of him still wanted to reach for the hidden pistol under his drawer and pull the trigger.

But Archer dug deep for a polite response. After all, Lancelot would hear of this and would need to know that his master remained a gentleman. Even in his student's sorry punishment, things travel far on base.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Archer said, maintaining his sense of sanity.

Sird's smile was wide now. "I heard that Elite Captain Lixue will become an Executive. Is that true? Will there be a fourth Executive?"

Lixue. That name stirred Archer's attention. Dreadful. An Executive perking up at the name of a subordinate — much like a dog hearing the word 'treat'. But wasn't Lixue such a treat herself? Archer cleared his throat, keeping up his indifference.

"There is no movement on that front, Lieutenant," Archer said. "Elite Captain Lixue remains where she is for now."

"But you believe she would be a great Executive?"

Lixue would be great on his team and in his bedsheets. She would even be great on his anatomy table if he had to kill her for treason. But an Executive? No. Of course not. She was too involved in helping others, something that Team Rocket decidedly did not do. Archer would be damned if Lixue was his junior Executive; in fact, he would be so damned that he would grab her by the hair and —

"Master Giovanni determines that," Archer replied, suddenly feeling exhausted as if he was being drained, "Not me. I present my choices and he determines the final Executive, if there will be one."

Sird put her hand up to her chin, as if deep in thought. "I suppose you're right. Besides, who would take her seriously? She's very attractive in a… naïve way. Hardly a Rocket even."

What was going on? Archer could barely move his arm to chide her. He felt his mind weaken. Lixue. She was attractive and Archer deserved her after all he had repented for and… all he wanted to talk about was how Lixue would be so damn good broken under his heel and by his side.

The more it came, the quicker it disappeared into a void. It sapped his feelings. His energy was gone. Archer had never been like this before and certainly… certainly not when talking about a woman. Even the women who ruined his life were… were…

Lixue. Lixue. Damn, it was an obsession now with the way her name rang in his head. She looked so angry when he showed up unannounced and with a flimsy excuse of why he was on that side of the base. But there was beauty in her anger and… and…

Dig deeper. And deeper. Archer grasped a firm resolve as it slipped through his fingers. He forced his head to straighten up.

No woman knocked Archer down. He always got back up and he would not let some name deter him from Team Rocket. Lancelot would see and hear of this. And that boy was already hanging by a thread from disobedience and reluctance to accept his destiny.

"I've no time for gossip," he stated firmly, enough to keep him focused, "Dismissed."

Sird smiled as she bowed. "Of course."

Archer had enough energy to watch her slink out before resting his forearms on his desk. As much as he hated to admit it… what the hell was that? Did he push himself too hard again and almost had an energy crash?

Out of habit, he slipped his fingers up to his neck and counted his pulse. Still a little fast, but nothing too out of the ordinary. It was more of his brain fog and desire to sleep now. However, the phenomena kept hounding him.

Perhaps acting as Lancelot's ward took more from him than he thought. His escape attempt and his isolation had consumed much of Archer's time. Now with his treatment, perhaps the Executive was spread too thin, and this child was more temperamental than he thought.

Archer's brain fog settled over his entire head now, making it impossible to refocus on his duties. His body felt like it rode him hard and put him away wet.

Figures that it was Lancelot who ripped his patience and vigor to shreds. Another thing that a fucking woman ruined for Archer. Oh, how it was only ten years ago that Archer was a man on a mission… then Lancelot blew into his life like an ill wind.

Well. Not quite Lancelot. Miriam. Talk about ill wind. Out of all the women who destroyed Archer's life, she was the best at it and sometimes the Executive welcomed it. Beautiful, smart, spoiled, and devastating. Every day, Archer could see her damn arrogance and disobedience written all over—

Archer blinked. He hadn't thought of… her name like that in years. If Archer heard… her name… once again in his presence, he would lose his mind all over this base. He only silently cursed her name and damned her to hell every time Lancelot pushed his buttons.

Isn't there a picture of her somewhere? No. Archer got rid of it years ago. He wasn't one for magical spells and voodoo nonsense, but he prayed to Arceus her soul was miserable while it burned in his office trash can.

"Fuck her, fuck Maxie, and fuck the Dragon Clan." Those were the exact words he muttered when he threw the lit match. If Archer so much as saw a dragon-like Pokemon, he would scorn it until it died of negligence. If he so much as spotted Maxie across the region, he'd shoot that bastard right between the eyes.

But he had Lancelot. A curse, a blessing, a loss, and a victory. Somehow. Damn kid. Archer would be so fond of him if he were obedient. And when Lancelot was obedient, Archer grew fond of him.

Fairly so, Lancelot was a cute baby. He was disobedient then too, but he could not walk away from Archer. Unable to think for himself. Even cried for Archer when he was hungry or desperate for attention.

Then again, Archer remembered resenting that kid during those times too. His crying sounded like her name pouting for something expensive. Cawing and begging, much like a spoiled child. Archer nipped that in the bud right away, refusing to tolerate even the most soundless of whimpers.

But when Lancelot was quiet, he was perfect. Almost unfair how perfect he was. Her name was perfect at times, too. Both of them were perfect enough to almost make Archer forget just how pissed off they made him.

Lancelot was another thing: penance.

And her name? Dead as a fucking doornail.

Not like Lixue. Lixue was going to be different. Not like her name.

So it worked out.

With that, Archer realized he fell into a deep slumber as his head hit the desk.

x

Proton had enough time to lick his wounds. Besides, all the bruises that Petrel gave him were fading anyway. But it was ridiculous that he had to sit here and watch his team fix up the melted vent that Archer caused.

Of course, the teenager convinced everyone else to do it while he stood around and watched. Luckily, his silver tongue could sway the laziest of grunts into doing his dirty work for him. A modern Tom Sawyer, except instead of painting a fence, it was handling sharp and fast power tools.

"Pick up the pace. I don't want to be here all night," Proton snapped at his crew, idly chewing the end of a toothpick.

One of his agents whirled around to glare at him before the Elite Captain leveled his own icy stare. In seconds, the grunt crumbled and muttered to himself as he flipped back around on his heel. Proton made a mental note to teach him a lesson later — if he had something to say, he should say it and not make the teenager strain his ears to hear it better.

Kids. Forest children. Proton wasn't stupid. He knew what the deserter alarm was for. Judging by the vent damage, Lancelot must have caused a scene with Archer. Part of the Elite Captain was enthusiastic about the boy's rebellion — perhaps he also hated Archer like the rest of them did — but it did nothing to quell Proton's rage.

Lancelot was an outsider, regardless of his circumstances. Raised by the snob and kept away from others. Already given the top position without breaking a sweat. Even worse, he was a snitch who got other people in stitches.

"He's just a kid, and he made a mistake," Petrel's words echoed in his mind again, "Fucking get over it, Proton. I'm not telling you again."

Nobody gets over things like that. Not even someone as black-hearted, mean, crafty, charming, and talented as Proton. His teeth dug into the toothpick as he heard a crack in the utensil. Proton plucked it out and tossed it aside.

However, just as he was about to bark another order, he felt swamped by intense drowsiness. Keeping himself upright, Proton fell backwards as a familiar lieutenant walked by him.

"Elite Captain."

Sird. She was back? Who sent her back here? Whoever it was, that guy was going to get the living daylights kicked out of him. If Archer was the least liked in Team Rocket, then Sird was the poster child for most hated. Not a single person could stand her.

Honestly, Proton wasn't even sure what her job was. Archer sent her off base just to get her out of there. She had some cronies that were tight with her on the Sevii Islands, but nobody liked them either. Outcasts of Team Rocket, really, and if she died, it would be no loss.

"Lieutenant," Proton muttered out, rolling his eyes. He would have shot off a snarky remark, but he did not want to be trapped in a conversation with her.

However, it was enough for Sird to stop. She turned to the teenager, smiling once again. Proton thought for a second. Her eyes glowed with satisfaction as she locked into another target to bore to death.

"Proton," his name sounded like dinner from the way Sird was saying it, "Mind if I stay to chat?"

"Yeah. Get going. I got things to do," Proton denied. "You'll have to squeeze your gossip out somewhere else."

Sird pressed on. "Just a small chat. An invitation to talk with you is all that I ask."

"Do I look like a radio show? Don't call on me to entertain you, Sird," Proton fired back, "Like I said, get going."

Now Sird's gaze hardened as if his refusal struck her in the chest. Her dark lips twisted into a deep scowl before she attempted to take a step forward. However, her body lurched back as if she was forcibly shoved back.

"Very well," Sird hummed, "I have other obligations. I've chatted enough tonight to get by."

In seconds, she turned back and went on her way. Proton shook his head, trying to keep his energy up. It was crawling into a late night already.

Before he knew it, he heard snoring. The teenager glanced over at his crew and noticed they were all now fast asleep. Aggravated, Proton kicked one in the ribs to wake them up before giving up.

"Fine. Whatever. Archer can wait for his vent to be fixed."

x

"You know where they are, though?"

Sird pressed the communication device against her lips, "Of course I do."

"So what are you waiting for, then? Let's get them!"

To not be stuck in a base where people would murder her outright? Carr never had any sense. Damn little runt was always so eager to get started. His happy self was back at Sevii Islands, content with wasting away there.

At least Orm was dumb.

Once Giovanni caught wind of her, he would destroy her. His gifts were impressive — and that wasn't counting his battling prowess. He could sense a presence, but with all of Sird's own experience and talent, he could not pin her down.

If only she were back in Sinnoh. It had been so long. She missed the emptiness. This was sometimes too much. And her little… "crew" was nothing like her true flock. Useful, but only up to a certain point.

But the girl. The boy. Why… wouldn't Cyrus be fat and happy with just one of them?

"Be patient," Sird said. "Let them settle here. Come to base and we will discuss this further."

Carr probably squealed at the thought of something so good. Useless. Orm would be thrilled at the prospect, too. It had been a while since any of them had something to satiate them.

Eventually, they'll have to understand that this world and the next was not fair.

She clicked it off, humming to herself before she called out to something.

"Darling," Sird purred, "Be a dear and check up on the boy. But behave yourself."

A loud giggle erupted before disappearing into the darkness.

x

Lancelot was so mad that he couldn't think.

Why did he run? Why would he run? Archer was a foolish choice to run from and Lancelot was stupid to try.

He tried to lift his arm to break free, but the bed straps held him down. Useless. No point. Archer tightened these bonds. Part of Lancelot's lower back squirmed from discomfort as he shut his eyes from the dim light.

"Don't cry," Lancelot muttered, trying to keep afloat. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Be brave. Be brave."

Whispers. It was starting again. No doubt it was a well-timed Dark Pulse from one of Archer's Houndooms. The dark thoughts crowded around Lancelot's brain, filling his ears with bizarre and…

Crack! A slash across his brain. Lancelot could only gasp as his throat choked on tears. He squeezed his eyes shut as he braced himself for another one.

Crack! It felt like a whip across his mind.

"I'm brave," Lancelot repeated, "I'm brave. I'm a brave boy."

Crack! This time, it felt like his soul. Lancelot flinched, now cringing from the pain. His fingers dug into the bed, instinctually trying to claw his way out. But nothing would break, not even his tiny nails.

"Lancelot."

The boy's eyes fluttered open, seeing Archer standing over him. His master stared down at him before tutting, creating his signature disapproval all over Lancelot's face. A cold touch pressed against Lancelot's brow as Archer brushed away his hair.

"Are you feeling alright?" Archer asked, "You look very tired."

To that, Lancelot said nothing. All he did was stare.

"I asked you a question, boy."

'I'm a brave boy. I'm a brave boy," Lancelot held onto that thought before he averted his eyes to a nearby wall. 'I'm a brave boy.'

"Lancelot. Look at me. Do not ignore me," Archer's demand came loud and clear. "You are a good boy, Lancelot. Good boys do not ignore their masters."

'I'm a brave boy.' Lancelot repeated in his mind again.

"Say it, Lancelot," Archer pushed him, "Say that you're a good boy and you won't disobey me again."

Crack! Lancelot lost focus as the pain seared his soul and brain again. His body scrunched up, wriggling now in his bonds. He wanted to scream — he wanted to scream so badly — that he wasn't a good boy. That he wasn't a good boy at all, but that he was a brave boy, that he was a brave knig—

"I don't want to hear that kind of talk, Lancelot. How dare you do this to me," Archer snarled. "How dare you say that to me? Have I taught you nothing? You're nothing but a dog that follows orders. A servant boy."

Lancelot mustered up his words on his now bloody tongue. "You're not Master Archer. You're not real. A hallucination. All the dark thoughts here."

Archer's face turned into a twisted smile. His teeth showed wider and wider until Lancelot was afraid it would gobble him up in a single bite.

"Clever boy," the torturous image taunted, "It won't help you here. Nothing will help you here."

Crack! This time, Lancelot did scream.

"I'm all your dark thoughts, Lancelot. I exist as you. You are from me, Lancelot, just as I come to in this form. You cannot escape me," The false Archer proclaimed, grabbing his face, "But you don't want to. Because you're a good boy, aren't you?"

Crack! Lancelot almost bit off his tongue from that one. His hair became sweaty and matted as he felt his eyes roll back. Lancelot's body was exhausted, along with his mind and spirit. He wasn't sure how long he had been in here. Or if anyone could hear him.

It was just Enma's or Fulor's Dark Pulse. That's all it was. Archer's Houndooms threw whatever they could at him to make him break. But Lancelot was… he was…

What was Lancelot?

"You're a good boy," the false Archer reminded him, now gentle. "You're a very good boy."

"I'm… I'm a brave…"

"You're a good boy."

"I'm br-brave boy…"

"No."

Crack! "St-stop! Stop! I can't! Please, Master Archer, please, just make it stop! Stop!"

… Crack!

"St-stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!"

Crack.

"I'm… I'm a good… good boy."

"Good boy."

Now Lancelot's mind slumped into nothingness as he passed out. His body pulled into waves of darkness, drowning him in all the dark thoughts that had piled up in his isolation cell. He could not even shed a single tear before Lancelot was dragged down to the depths again.

However, as Lancelot was suffocating in his twisted thoughts, the false Archer was suddenly consumed by something else entirely.

A Banette. And it had found the tasty, weakened hallucination as a delicious treat to devour slowly and surely.

x

Enma could no longer hold on as the strange energy gnawed away his dark energies. In seconds, the Houndoom collapsed along with Fulor.