A/N: Decided to write a post-Super Mystery Dungeon fic. This takes place well after the main events of the game - as well as Into Darkness, which I plan on revisiting. Hope you all enjoy.

Chapter One: The Sorrow of Success

With the global map finally being complete, there was every reason for celebration. Each major island, every forest and desert and mountain range had been properly plotted. Several variations were made, some showing major towns and cities, others specified rivers and lakes, and even biomes and topography had their own depictions. Why that had warranted a separate map, Miles had no idea, but Archeops had insisted.

And now there was nothing to explore. The lands were fully plotted and understood, yet the Expedition Society was left without any sense of direction. How ironic. It didn't matter to him one way or another – a job was a job. But there was a somberness within their headquarters. It had always been such a monumentally impossible task – one that they'd worked on for decades. And now it was just… done.

Miles closed his eyes, inhaling the morning air gently. Flickering candlelight danced throughout lampposts sparsely dotting the streets. His lips curled into the tiniest of smiles. Lively City – properly promoted from a town years ago – wasn't holding up to its name at this hour of the morning. But that was fine. Less people was never something he'd complain about, and there was more than enough time for him to make his stops. Being familiar with all the nearby business owners, Miles could mostly get what he needed while they were still setting up for the day. Having saved the world also helped in that regard.

First to the bank, where he checked accounts and stocks, then to withdraw what he would need for his other errands. Cofagrigus deliberately counted the coins as Miles' nose twitched. Never once was there a mistake, no matter how fast his ethereal limbs moved. Kecleon was sorting through his new shipments, and judging by the scent, one of them was just what he had been waiting for. "Hello Miles. What'll it be today?" The typhlosion pointed out various items, many of which were imported. Spices, tea, and honey from the ongoing harvest. His thoughts went back to Serene Village. Now that there would undoubtedly be time off, they should visit that while figuring out where to go from here. Had been a while, after all. He picked out one other item – or rather, a bundle of them. "Thank you," Kecleon said. "Have a nice day, alright?"

"You too."

The café across the street held few people at this hour, but there was still certainly business to be made. Kangaskhan no longer worked alone, having hired a relatively chatty young servine to assist with the various duties that had become overbearing in an ever-growing town. "Morning. Same as usual?" A brisk nod, and Kangaskhan went to work. Even her daughter, now far too large for the pouch, helped, albeit with a yawn. She mostly brought food out to customers. But as soon as she spotted Miles, she lit up. The typhlosion held out a fresh watmel berry – a delicacy from the islands near the Air Continent – which she readily accepted with excited eyes. "Aww, you're just the sweetest," the mother said while mixing the coffee. He timidly smiled and looked away.

She sent him off with a tray as she did most days. Two plates and two cups with the expectation that there would be swift trip back after breakfast to drop the ceramics back off. Miles' eyes darted to the sun. Two minutes. He had long been set in this routine; of course, each day was a tad bit different. How accurately could one pinpoint the precise moment a friend would wake up? But sunlight was an effective alarm when said friend slept with her blinds open.

Miles carefully shuffled through the main entrance and towards the living quarters. Now that they weren't children anymore, he and Claire didn't share a room. It would be improper. But nothing much had changed; they would still gaze up at the stars during missions or talk until early hours of the morning. Well, she did most of the talking.

He approached her door, straightening his posture to peak perfection, then carefully transitioned the tray so that he held it with one hand before knocking gently. A groan came from inside. A few moments passed before a braixen with half-closed eyes answered the door. Never a morning person. Still, her ears perked up at the smell of coffee, and an interested glance was cast towards the bag he carried underneath their breakfast. "Did some shopping, huh?" she asked.

"Mhm." Miles walked in and set the two plates on opposite sides of a small desk they used for this very purpose. The room itself was nearly claustrophobic for him, with souvenirs from their journeys were crammed in every corner and shelf. Books were tucked away, some of which Mawile had been demanding back for weeks, one of which was still open on her bed. Sheets had been messily strewn and threatened to fall off the side.

"Going to show me what you got?" He shook his head, earning a huff. "Yeah, alright." They both set into their breakfast of eggs and toast with berry spread. One benefit of their typing was that they didn't need to let the coffee cool much before drinking it. That said, they each found the first sip to their greatest displeasure. Claire's eyes went wide as she flinched back and Miles' nose wrinkled up. He glanced at her as she fought the urge not to gag. "Ew! I got yours!" She shoved the mug towards him and reached for the one he still held. "How do you drink that? It's disgusting!"

"Yours is more sugar than coffee…"

"Yeah – which is the only thing that makes it tolerable! Now give me mine!" Miles rolled his eyes and gave her the mug, taking a sip of his own instead. Straight black, without anything else. No need to complicate things. "Much better," Claire said as she took a deep sip of the correct drink. She all but stabbed the mass of eggs on her plate, shoving it into her mouth before crossing her arms. Quickly swallowing, she continued. "Now… about that shopping trip."

"No."

"Aww, come on Miles. You wouldn't keep secrets from me, would you?" She glanced at him with playful and expecting eyes. The typhlosion averted his gaze, then went back to eating. He saw her ear twitch in response to his apparent attempt at ignoring her. "You just think you're hilarious, don't you?" He shrugged. "Don't make me come over there."

"Don't. Breakfast first."

"Then do I get to see?"

"No." Her expression was enough to even draw a slight chuckle from him of all people. Or at least, a single humored exhale. "Fine."

"And you'd better not drag it out, either," she said. He only shrugged before returning to his meal.

They still had about ten minutes before the daily briefing. He wasn't sure where things would go from this point forth; the completion of the global map had been their number one priority for years. If he had to wager a guess, it would probably be to focus on more localized expeditions or rescue missions. The world might fit on a piece of paper now, but it would always be full of problems.

And he was fine with that. It was Claire who wasn't. Her dream had been seized. Completed. Now she would need to find a new one – or learn to be content with the lack of new places to discover. So moments like this, which provided that brief moment of distraction, were what he strived for. Because eventually, they'd leave this room and she would face the truth.

There was no more world left to explore.

The sound of her chair scraping against a wooden floor brought him out of his thoughts. She had quickly devoured the rest of hers while he was little more than halfway done. "Alright, time's up. Don't make me bonk you on the head with my stick." Miles grunted to himself. Wasn't all that hungry, anyways. And she certainly wasn't the most patient between them. He reached down and shuffled through the bag, setting its contents out on the table.

"Oh, that's pretty nice!" Claire said at his array of spices. Swirlix had notable skill when it came to cooking, but they prepared most of their meals while on the road. The inclusion of spices certainly helped in that regard, and over time, they'd learned to be more than proficient in that field.

It was the berries that really set her over the edge. "Arceus! He had watmels! These definitely aren't making it past the week!"

"Mhm." He expected no less. Miles was never fond of them; far too sweet and left an aftertaste even more so. But she was, and that was enough for him to buy most of what Kecleon had in stock. The small jar of honey, though, managed to make her large ears fall a bit.

"…That time of year again, huh?" It was nearly seven years ago when they'd initially left the village. While neither of them knew how old they actually were, both had to be somewhere around their late teens or low twenties. But that had been their first true rescue mission together. Despite how terrifying it was at the moment, those memories were fond ones.

"It's been a while…" Claire glanced up at him.

"Plannin' a visit?" she asked. Miles shrugged.

"Wouldn't hurt. Your father would love to see you." She looked down. The calls they did every week or two kept them somewhat in touch, but that was vastly different to an in-person visit.

"Well… not like we've got anything else going on, right?" The braixen forced a laugh. "I like that idea. Sounds like a plan!" Her mood shift was a welcome one, especially considering they needed to be at the briefing in a few minutes. "Thanks, Miles." He grinned as she rubbed against his shoulder before heading towards the door.

As expected, Ampharos' words were short and to the point. The Expedition Society was now searching for new objectives following the completion of the world map. In the meantime, they were allowed to pursue work at their own leisure – which was shorthand for 'figure something out for now.' Of course, that could mean sorting through papers with Mawile or helping Swirlix cook. Both were less preferable than diving into the ocean for Miles and Claire.

He glanced at her once everyone was dismissed. "…Want to do a mission?"

"Eh, why not?" There were a few different options available. Lost items were always a laid-back option. There was little rush, and given the fact that these items were often sentimental, the jobs tended to pay well. No team was going to go on a quest to fetch a lost earring for some meager sum of money, and no one would offer a reward for something that could easily be replaced. The typhlosion shrugged as he scrolled along the connection orb for relatively-local missions.

There were also escort jobs. Someone might want to visit an area for whatever reason but lacked the capabilities to defend themselves. Also low stress, with the presence of at least one other person, conversation was far more limited – and that was if Radiant wasn't pestered endlessly about their previous exploits should the client know who they were.

And then there remained the rescue missions. These were often the most rewarding – at least, in a sentimental manner. A positive development that had occurred over the years was the increase in teams who focused on such jobs. There was a time when a single team might have half a dozen requests. That was never fun; it meant someone took priority, and if there were multiple urgent cases out there, then that itself meant that someone wasn't getting rescued. Choices had to be made that weren't fun to make. Miles was glad that it wasn't like that anymore; with far more rescue teams out there, pretty much everyone got rescued. Now, it was mostly rescue teams shopping around for whatever jobs paid the best. And while that itself could be considered a problem, it was a far more preferable one.

Missions were classified based on danger and urgency, and towards the top of that list, there was one that remained an open contract in Gentle Slope Cave. Miles blinked. The area sounded innocent enough, and until a year or two ago, it was. That was until houndooms began moving there.

Now, most sensible teams sought to avoid the area for a very valid reason: the packs that roamed about, often at conflict with one another, were viciously hostile towards anything not in their own ranks. Even in the wild, nature abhorred a vacuum. Anarchy only gave way to local, violent groups, and Gentle Slope Cave was no exception. Surely enough, a female zebstrika had filed a report that her mate had gotten separated from her after being attacked by them while passing by.

The contract had been open for a few hours and was labeled as extremely urgent. Miles handed the gadget to his partner and wordlessly asked. "Hmm… looks kinda dangerous. Especially with the—"

"Houndooms…"

"Yeah. They'll eat up our fire and my psychic attacks."

"You can pelt them with signal beam and shadow ball. I'll take care of the rest." Wasn't very teamwork-oriented, but it was true all the same. Knowing close combat moves like brick break and thunder punch gave him enough to work with up close, not to mention earthquake. Besides, they had faced far worse.

"Fine."

"…We could go to Serene Village after… if you want. We'd already be a third of the way there."

"It'd definitely be a rest well-earned," Claire stated. "But houndooms? Really? Can't just let someone else take care of it?"

"They need help."

"Aww, come on Miles. Gotta humor me a little…" She folded her arms over her tiny frame, nose pointed upwards. "Obviously we're gonna go help them, but you can't just play along for a second?" He sighed, turning around and heading for his room.

Unlike Claire's room, Miles' was exceedingly tidy and minimal. A cot, chest, chair and desk were all he needed, the latter of which held a jar of water and a candle that was only used when he was reading something. He started rummaging through the chest for their supplies as Claire propped herself against the doorway, scanning over his dreadfully boring room.

"Would it kill you to breathe a little life into this place?" Her ears perked up. "Oh! You should let me do it!" Miles glanced over his shoulder with a perplexed expression.

"I think it's fine…"

"Yeah, no it ain't. That's probably your silly little human mind making excuses. I think you should leave this to a professional interior designer like me!" He rolled his eyes and returned to preparing. Was that what she considered herself in light of the absolute mess next door? Miles went about preparing for their job. He was always certain to overpack medical supplies, especially when there was a rescue mission at hand. There was no telling what condition their client would be in – or what might happen to Miles or Claire along the way, for that matter. "I'll take your silence as an all-clear."

"Please don't…"

"Too late. I know what I'm doing when we get back," Claire retorted. He hoisted the bag over his shoulder, closed the chest, and stood up.

Now that the morning exhaustion had mostly worn off, there was a lot more activity in the headquarters. Swirlix was busy preparing lunch and dinner, of course while gorging herself in the process, and Floatzel and Archeops were prepping for an outing of their own along with newer recruits. There were dozens of newcomers, many of whom expressed interest in joining the Expedition Society in recent years – some of which had done so solely because Miles and Claire were still here. The braixen had been quick to tell of their various exploits, all while Miles stood backed and wished that he could turn invisible.

Claire tucked a whirlwind wand in her tail, straightening out the fur parted by her action. Combining its effects with her flamethrower caused for an intimidating swarm of flames that made all but the fiercest of opponents back down – not that it would help with this mission. But it would still certainly blow them away. She brushed a paw through the fiery hair and straightened her posture, ready to take on the world despite being little more than half her partner's height. He laughed to himself, causing her to turn around.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he said with a grin.

"Something got you in a good mood today?" Miles just pushed the front door open and held it, giving a quick shrug before they set out.

Since time was of the essence, they headed towards the dock. Waterways cut through the continent and were a convenient way to get around – if one happened to know the right person. Fortunately, they did.

"Heeeey," Claire said to the large water-type. Lapras greeted them with a smile and a slow blink.

"I don't suppose you happen to need a favor?" she asked.

"Funny you should say that – that's exactly what we need." They both laughed. "We've got a rescue mission. Time's really of the essence. If you're free, we could really use a ride to the shore south of Gentle Slope Cave."

"Alright then," Lapras said. "I'll settle for half the rescue fee."

"Oh I'm sure you will." Lapras motioned with her head for them to hop on. Fortunately she had no clients today. "Ready to head out when you are. Unless, of course, you still need to make some preparations."

"We're all set, right Miles?" The typhlosion nodded. Both of them hopped on board, bracing themselves as she pushed away from land and sped along the coastline. With her manipulation of the water around her, it was no slow pace.

When they had first began using her ferrying service, Miles remembered both of them getting horribly seasick. And who could blame them? They were so young at the time, never having stepped foot off their home continent, not to mention both of them being fire-types. Massive, rolling expanses of water were never meant for them to traverse in such an open manner. Probably not at all. Lapras had then frantically begged them not to get sick on her shell, and that memory was enough to force a grin from Miles. While he didn't consider water travel fun by any means, the typhlosion could at least stand it now. And it was good that it was so; Lapras could go twice the speed on water that they could on land. Right now, when time was of the essence, that could mean the difference between someone living or not.

Small talk was made between Claire and Lapras until the former decided on an impromptu nap. The braixen yawned, stretching her hands in the air before laying back. Somehow the curved shell was comfortable enough. "I think a little beauty rest is in order," Claire stated.

"Feel free," Lapras said. "We still have about five hours." The braixen stretched out, basking in gentle sunlit rays before glancing towards her partner.

"You'll catch me if I start to fall off, right Miles?"

"Probably."

"Eh, I'll take it." She smiled before closing her eyes.

If anything, the winding down of conversation gave him more room for thought. Missions like this were never fun. They needed to be done, and they tended to pay well, sure, but nobody enjoyed these types of jobs. Team Radiant had a phenomenal track record of successful missions, but nobody won them all…

"Don't talk my head off, Miles," Lapras joked.

"…Sorry."

"It's all good, dear. I'm just giving you a hard time. I've gone weeks without hearing another voice. A few hours is nothing." The typhlosion looked down as she turned her head and focused on the path before them.

"I'm just… a bit nervous," he admitted.

"Oh? Surely you of all people aren't getting cold feet…"

"Not that," he said. "The mission's dangerous. Seems like our victim got chased by a pack of wild houndooms. Led them away from his mate and kid. That was several hours ago."

"…Oh…" She closed her eyes and sighed.

"You know as well as I do that they're probably gnawing at the bones by now." He glanced over at Claire, seeing her blissfully asleep. She knew just as much what the chances were; she just always preferred to believe that they would somehow pull it off. There had been one case – much less dangerous than this – where they hadn't arrived in time. She cried for two weeks. "I'm… hoping we'll be there in time. I don't want to have to break that sort of news to a mother and child." But just like last time, if the worst came to pass, he would be the one. He had to – because he wasn't going to put Claire through that.

"I wouldn't want to, either." Lapras admitted, her pace becoming a bit faster. She turned around again. "Listen, you should get some sleep, too. You'll all but need to rush over there once we land, so it's best that you get some rest while you can." Miles hesitated, then slowly nodded. "And don't worry. No one's fallen off my shell yet."

It would take the remainder of the day to reach their destination, and while time was critical in missions like these, there was little more they could do aside from pacing themselves. Arriving a few hours before midnight, thoroughly exhausted from mostly sprinting throughout the day, would serve neither them nor the client well. It was often a mistake that rookie rescue teams made, rushing towards their objective at full speed while failing to consider the condition they'd be in once they actually got there. Miles and Claire had learned that lesson the hard way once or twice…

As they drew away from the coast, Miles lowered himself to all fours. Far more natural, even if he preferred bipedalism in town. He felt sorry for the braixen, though. Being a bit over three feet tall, each pace for him was two for her – something she was sure to remind him of every so often. Miles enjoyed a gentle breeze as they began to ascend the foothills. Spring flowers popped up from grassy outcrops, growing scarcer as stone took its place.

Silence never remained a companion for long around her, though…

"So I've been thinking…"

"Hmm?"

"With all those myths about humans, we don't even know what they looked like." Miles cocked his head questioningly. "I mean… I know what I looked like before all this. Aren't you just a little bit curious?"

"Haven't thought about it much," Miles admitted. "I'm not a human now, and I don't think I'm turning back into one."

"But that'd be cool, wouldn't it? I wonder what powers you would've had." The typhlosion just shrugged. He must have had some notable feature to have been chosen to fight Dark Matter alongside Mew. But as Claire had said, there was scarce literature on the subject. Miles certainly wouldn't turn away an opportunity to learn what he once was, but even then, he was content with what he was now. Two fire-types, while magnifying their weaknesses, were a lethal force. Primal instinct made any enemy fearful of the flame when it gnawed at their skin. 'Miiiiiles…'

"Hmm?" He snapped himself out of his thoughts in response to her telepathy.

"Zoning off again," she said.

"…Sorry."

"No you aren't." Claire teased. His hairs stood on edge as she ran her hand between his ears. "But that's okay. I'm sure there's tons of awesome things going on in that head of yours. Maybe I'll learn to read minds just so I can take a peek…" Miles looked at her, meeting only a toothy grin in response. Same as she'd always been. "I didn't hear any objections…"

"Claire…"

They set up camp that night alongside a cliff, finding a somewhat hollow alcove up a steep ledge. Claire used him as a stepping stool to hop up there after collecting the firewood. Nice and secluded, the alcove would require either a bipedal or a flying-type to reach them, and even then it was fairly unnoticeable. By then, Miles would've heard any potential invaders and would quickly make them regret it. They only had time for a few hours of rest, though.

Dinner consisted of dried fish seasoned with pepper and ginger – rations they had made themselves – and roasted fruit. Miles saw her not-so-stealthily withdraw a pair of watmels from her pack. "What? If we're planning on going to Serene Village after this, they'd have spoiled if I'd left them!"

"Mhm."

"Don't question me!"

"We have access to a well behind the Expedition Society," Miles said. "If you'd wanted to keep them cold, you could have…"

"And risk that glutton finding them? As if!" Claire retorted.

"…That's fair."

After they ate, Claire stood up and ignited the end of her wand. Miles remained still as a fiery gust of wind hurled dirt and debris from the alcove, smoothing their sleeping surface for the night. She rapidly spun the stick around, blowing the flame out. A thin trail of smoke rose. She lifted her chin and breathed it in. "Damn I'm good." Miles couldn't help but snicker at that. One benefit to both of them being fire-types was that they remained fairly warm throughout the night. That didn't mean they couldn't get cold, but having a campfire running was not a necessity like it might be with other pokémon.

"Alright."

"And don't ever doubt that!"

"Mhm." He set out their sleeping rolls and positioned their supply bags – makeshift pillows – before fiddling with their expedition gadget. Jirachi had managed to upgrade them with a few new features over the years, one of which somehow measured time and could be used as an alarm. They couldn't afford to oversleep, and with the ungodly noise it would release in three hours, there was no chance that they would.

Without any light pollution, the stars were clearly visible. Miles found himself drawn to them, mentally tracing over some of the constellations he'd learned through their narrow view outside.

"Psst." He turned his head, seeing her resting on her side with arms folded under her head. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

"Stars."

"That's it?"

"Sorry to disappoint," he replied.

"No you aren't." Miles returned to his previous position.

"…No I'm not."

"You should get some sleep, okay? Don't just stare off into space like you always do. Gotta be primed and ready to go tomorrow, right?" The typhlosion nodded. "Goodnight, Miles."

"Goodnight." She was always quick to fall asleep, leaving him to his own thoughts despite her advice to the contrary. While he was truthful in not caring much how a human looked or functioned, there would always be part of him that longed to know what had taken place in their past. He understood why they had both decided upon wiping their memories; tackling the issue from a fresh perspective turned out to be just what they needed to finally destroy Dark Matter. But what all had been forfeited in doing so?

How many people had he known that were now lost to history? Had he been anything like what he was today, or was he a distorted shell of what he once was? And what about her, for that matter? Of everything they'd ever done years ago… it was like none of it ever happened. The mew that had appeared a few years ago was tied to Claire, sure, but they were not the same. Nor was it the same mew that had saved the world with him prior. So it really seemed that everything before had been lost for good.

Thoughts of these sorts ended up inevitably bringing him back to that one fateful day on the hill. Miles grimaced, gritting his teeth as he tried to dash those thoughts away before they kept him awake for good.

A heavy sigh managed to snap him out of it. He glanced to his left with glossy eyes, seeing that Claire had repositioned herself and was draped over her "pillow" in a rather silly position, her mouth hanging open and revealing a gleaming set of pointy teeth.

He stifled a laugh and wiped his eyes. A welcome interruption, and it was a good thing she was asleep, because Claire wouldn't hesitate to tease him over it. Dwelling on his past lows did no good now that the present was better. Miles finally managed to get ahold of himself, his mind drifting to more positive topics.

What were they going to do now? The Expedition Society was certainly searching for the answer to that, but no matter what Ampharos and Mawile came up with, it wouldn't compare to what they'd already done. The world was drastically smaller now that all of it was known. Claire was acting like that didn't get to her, but Miles knew better. With both destinies and dreams fulfilled, they needed to find some new purpose. And who said it even needed to be with the Expedition Society?

They could cross that issue later. Maybe it was something they could talk over at Serene Village. For now, though, there was a rather dire mission at hand, and if Miles was going to be of any use during it, he needed to get some rest. The typhlosion closed his eyes and let his mind go blank.

A/N: Special thanks to FuryWrites for beta-reading this chapter.