Chapter 51 – Fickle Soul
"Mbbfffrr…" Anam slimed his way into his makeshift home in Hot Spot Cave, curling around his favorite rock until it was completely drenched in his purple goo. "I missed sleep," he said.
Rhys, doing his best to be cordial, averted his eyes and said, "I believe I will be resting with Elder in my home. So, unless I am needed elsewhere?"
He was atop Elder's shell, legs crossed. Elder was only somewhat warm in what would have been the hot spots of his shell, and Rhys had little trouble riding on his back. Despite his typically reserved nature, nothing was going stopping the Lucario's tail from wagging vigorously at the prospect of finally having a night together with Elder that wasn't just in their telepathic connections.
"Ugh…" Demitri stretched his back, hearing a few cracks. "That was such a long walk. We need to install a better Waypoint system for this place."
"Well, we can't have that," Nevren said. "Imagine if someone from the public sees us using a strange, exclusive Waypoint? We'd have to find a place in secret, and that, well, that would just get even more complicated. We can only use our Badges and their personal warp point."
"Is Valle still here?" Willow asked. "I don't think I saw him in a while!"
"I am still here."
"Enet," Step said, "perhaps it is appropriate to release your illusions. There is no longer a need." Indeed, Step was back to her Icy self, gently tapping against her armor to make sure it was back to normal.
Enet nodded and clicked her claws together, concentrating on the surrounding area. Mispy's tendrils returned to view. Relieved, she shook a few of them and wrapped a few on her back to envelop Demitri, squeezing him in an abominable hug. Demitri let out a little wheeze, nuzzling the tip of his snout against her back. He was careful not to cut her with his tusks.
Step scanned the area. "You have not restored Valle."
"Hmph!" Enet turned her head, arms crossed.
"The Shiftry shall return, yes?" Step said lowly. "We do not want to bump into him."
"I request visibility."
ADAM spun his head irritably. "Restore Valle."
"No."
ADAM buzzed. "Sudo restore Valle."
Enet hissed. "No! He's dumb!"
Just in time to evade the scuffle, Elder slipped into Rhys' home. "Oh, what a wonderful place you live in, Rhys. A bit," he paused, "primitive, and a tad cluttered, but it's very quaint, isn't it?"
"I've grown quite accustomed to the simple nature," Rhys said. "I certainly miss some of the luxuries that Nevren was able to produce—and in general the technologies of modern Kiloan life—but what we have here is just fine."
Elder chuckled.
Rhys glanced at the giant Torkoal again. He was used to the general smokiness of Elder's presence. It used to sting his nose, long ago. But now, after all this time away, the smell was nostalgic. He leaned forward, tracing at a familiar ridge pattern. "Being physically nearby… nothing replaces it," he said. "Meditation is never enough."
"It truly isn't," Elder said.
"You don't have to go back, do you?" Rhys asked. "Elder, I… I simply don't see why you still want to follow Eon, after all he's done. Is that truly what you want to do? He's terrorizing the Guardians. Is he truly the one you'd rather have the Orbs? To have control over the world?"
"I don't," Elder said. "I'm afraid that I… don't know who I want to have that sort of power, Rhys. But I had nowhere to go. Eon is losing himself, Rhys. If I leave, I do not know if it will be for the greater good. If Eon grows too impatient, he may do something that he'll regret. For all of us."
Rhys gently pressed his paw against Elder's shell. "Elder, if everybody within Hot Spot Cave gathered together to strike Eon, would we win? Surely you would know."
Elder shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know," he said. "Eon isn't the one we need to worry about any longer. It's his army."
"A-army, of course," Rhys nodded. "B-but quite a bit of that army is with Trina, isn't it? The Bug Guardian."
Elder shook his head. "No. There is more."
"Why would Eon want to make an army?" Rhys said, raising his voice slightly. "I still don't understand it. He would never need so many—does he want to start another war?"
"Is that not what is already happening?" Elder asked. He huffed out a steady stream of smoke. "A war that neither dead god desired, fought in their name by the living. History repeats." Elder sighed, lost in thought. "I miss Dialga…"
"That is not going to happen again," Rhys said firmly. His fur bristled, aura flames pulsing from his paw pads.
The Torkoal puffed a small plume of defeated, white smoke. "Then you will need to surrender to Eon." The silence that followed made Elder lower his head to avoid Rhys' stunned eyes. "You have to either surrender, or Eon will strike. He's ready, Rhys. Everything is falling into place. That's what he keeps muttering to himself, and I—I simply don't know what he means."
"E-Elder," the Lucario finally found his voice, "what's gotten into you?"
"I don't want another war, Rhys," Elder said. His body was stiff; Rhys recognized this as the Torkoal's quiet terror. "Please. Just let it all end."
"Is this what you tell all of the other Guardians?" Rhys whispered. "Did you come here just to tell us to surrender? You want me to surrender? Are we just another one of your missions…?"
"No, but… perhaps I still have it in mind." Somewhere between pleading and resignation, Elder leaned his shell against the wall. "If Eon strikes, it won't just be our heads on the line. The whole world is going to get caught up in it again. It will be just like before, Rhys. But this time, instead of the Divine Dragon, it's Eon. Do you really want that?"
"I never wanted it the first time," Rhys growled. "And I certainly won't let Eon rule, not after I've seen his methods of gaining that power. He's worse than Arceus."
"Then, you align with Star?"
Rhys winced, not expecting such a swift retort. "I don't know."
More silence followed, and more smoke filled the room and dissipated into nothing. Elder's expression, once firm, softened. "You sound quite a lot like Owen. But you know, I think Owen has a personal favorite. He quite idolizes Anam, doesn't he?"
"If you want my opinion, Anam isn't any better. He's afraid to take action."
"I don't blame him."
Rhys grunted. "If Anam had his way, we would all still be in the same strange stasis as before, all the Guardians suffering in isolation, while Eon slowly continues to build his army. We'd be in an even worse position! So, no." To this, he nodded firmly. "I wouldn't want Anam to gain the Orbs either. It isn't as if he can. He also Promised Arceus that he would not possess another Orb."
"Most of the Guardians did, really," Elder said. "What a clever approach, hm? Prevent the Guardians from usurping him by just blocking that option altogether, or risk giving that power directly to him anyway. Barky was always the clever one."
"Perhaps we shouldn't refer to Arceus in that way," Rhys murmured. "It seems… disrespectful."
"Oh?" Elder asked. "A change of heart? You were not typically one to put much respect toward him, Rhys."
Rhys ears went down slightly. "I suppose that's true," he said. "It merely seems… petty."
"I see." The Torkoal frowned, but then craned his neck out of his shell to nuzzle Rhys on his thigh. "I'm sorry for all of this, Rhys. I wish I was stronger. I wish I had the heart to fight. But it simply isn't in my nature. You know that, right from the beginning, in our first battle." Elder saw his body tense. "I'm sorry. I won't mention it. And I…" He hesitated. "And, regarding Eon, I…"
Rhys let out a slow, steady sigh, looking at his right paw. It was trembling. It was unspoken, but Elder already knew that Rhys wasn't going to surrender. And even if Elder didn't want to leave, he had to, didn't he? If he abandoned Eon, what would become of him? He could unleash the entire Synthetic army upon the world in frustration. He couldn't stay here.
But was he even enough to keep Eon sane anymore? He already killed two Guardians. Perhaps it was already too late.
The weight Rhys provided on his side was a constant reminder of his presence.
He also couldn't leave Rhys. The light in his eyes was brighter than ever when they first touched after so long. And now, he was going to leave him again? Perhaps that would be even more devastating.
Elder craned his neck to look at Rhys again. He opened his beady little eyes, black and shining with red irises. They held their gazes with one another.
He wouldn't leave. Elder smiled slightly at Rhys, and finally settled his shell on the ground completely. Without a word, Elder eased Rhys' spirit. And for a while, they did nothing together—just like old times.
"Thank you," Rhys said softly. After basking in their togetherness for a while longer, the Lucario found enough security to lean back. Elder adjusted so his shell pressed some weight against Rhys' body, another nostalgic feeling that had been irreplaceable.
"How much time do we have?" Rhys asked. "Will Eon give warning?"
"He will. Even if he decided to strike now, he would need weeks to mobilize."
"That will do."
Elder heaved another sigh, releasing a plume of smoke from his shell that enveloped Rhys. He closed his eyes reflexively, as he always did, and then wondered aloud, "I do hope this smoke isn't damaging to my airways."
"Well, you're Mystic, so I suppose it will do little harm," Elder said. "I apologize anyway. Perhaps I can lower it a tad?"
"There's no need."
"Oh, no, I should. It shouldn't be too difficult. I may not be the greatest of Mystics, but I can surely achieve that. It isn't as if Torkoal must emit their smog all the time, yes?"
Rhys didn't protest, but he did absentmindedly run his claw against Elder's shell. He glanced at the glowing portions of it, realizing just then how he had been avoiding the hot portions of Elder's body with muscle memory alone, even if they weren't particularly hot.
"Let's rest, Rhys," Elder said. "It has been far too long. We can converse about Eon when everybody else returns."
"Hm. Of course."
The cozy silence enveloped them again, their eyes trailing across the room. Every so often, Elder looked back and asked about one of the trinkets that Rhys had on his shelves. An old, bracelet-like contraption that Nevren had made caught Elder's eye, but even Rhys wasn't sure what it was. Then he looked at the blank book that Anam had gifted him long ago, like some sort of empty journal, wholly unused. And of course, there were stacks of letters that Elder had sent to Rhys to give some sense of physical interaction, even with telepathy allowing for spiritual meetings.
A while later, Demitri and Mispy passed by their room, going through the halls and into their own on the opposite side. Rhys couldn't help but crack a smile. They were two pairs across the hall from each other. But his smile faltered when he saw their pensive faces and felt their turbulent auras.
"They're thinking about it again," Elder said quietly to Rhys. "Should we talk to them?"
Rhys didn't have much of a choice. Mispy was glaring holes into his fur. He gave Elder a gentle pat, and the two crossed the hall and entered the synthetic Pokémon's room. Unlike Rhys' room that was cluttered with Pecha Berries and mementos of the past, Demitri and Mispy lived in a room that was minimally decorated. They had a bed of ample, soft leaves, which they slept together in. And nothing else. Hold on. Where was the bed?
Rhys tilted his head slightly, realizing that it was gone. Had it always been missing? Rhys briefly recalled the day Mispy and Demitri had fully evolved. Mispy had been uncharacteristically satiated that night.
Demitri and Mispy, therefore, slept in a room that was devoid of any sort of decoration or furniture. Upon coming to this realization, the first thing Rhys commented was, "I noticed how… empty your room seems. Perhaps we can dip into some of our Heart earnings for some decorations?"
Demitri and Mispy exchanged a glance, and then scanned the rocky walls.
"How come?" Demitri asked.
"Well, because it's quite empty," Rhys said. "Wouldn't you like to have something to… look at? Something pleasing to the eye? …Such as a bed? I must ask, where has your bed gone?"
Mispy evaded Rhys' eyes. Despite the pair's brief falter, the Lucario still didn't get a proper response from the Haxorus and Meganium.
Rhys stood up. "Why, right here," he said, pointing at the corner. "There could be a shelf, right here. I could load it with books. Or perhaps little figurines? There's a store that sells lovely little figurines, Demitri. And Mispy, perhaps a book of recipes? You could choose which ones I can cook. Wouldn't that be nice?"
An uncomfortable silence followed.
Mispy shifted her vines. "I guess."
"And—and right here," Rhys said, following the wall until he was on the opposite side. "Perhaps a desk for you, Demitri, if—if there was perhaps a need for you to use a desk?"
The two mutants stared. They recognized that Rhys was just trying to distract them, or cheer them up, or give them some sense of normalcy. But nothing was going to wash away the fact that they were genuinely uninterested in any of those decorations. Their room was barren because they had no use for any of it. They never did. Rhys pushing them to be interested in something so trivial was just a reminder that their minds were incomplete. And Rhys could feel those thoughts radiating off of them by the emotions in their auras alone.
"We just want to fight," Demitri stated with an iota of venom. "None of this other stuff is interesting." He slumped against Mispy, sinking halfway into her tapestry of vines. "Because that's how we were designed."
"N-nonsense," Rhys said a touch too quickly. "Demitri, you love Mispy, do you not? That's already one thing that isn't related to fighting. And Mispy, don't you enjoy food? Cuisine? Far from fighting."
"Mm."
"Rhys," Elder said, "I believe what they mean is, above all else, fighting is what appeals to them the most. More than their hobbies, more than their other interests, they love to fight."
Neither protested.
"I—I see," Rhys said. His jaw clenched in defeat, mentally cornered. "I see. I believe I understand. And I imagine you are not happy with this."
"I don't know," Demitri said.
Rhys stood there at the end of the room. He looked at the corner again, envisioning the desk that he could install. But he couldn't envision either of them using it. And so, his prospects faded away like the fleeting idea it was.
"I want to see Trina," Mispy finally spoke up.
"Trina?" Rhys repeated. "But—we can't do that yet. We told her that we would see her in the morning. We have to wait until tomorrow."
"No." Her body shifted. While her height did not change, her vines changed to a more organized, crawling stance. It was clear that she was 'standing up' to leave.
Rhys knew them all too well; between their turbulent auras and how he had raised them for so long, he could deduce every thought they had. Mispy surely recognized that they both meant well, even if their memories of Elder were vague. Yet it still felt wrong—like none of this was correct. That it all felt sick. They didn't know a thing about themselves, did they?
Mispy possessively wrapped a few vines around Demitri, squeezing him for comfort. The Haxorus responded by leaning back, closing his eyes. They just wanted to feel like their normal was real.
Perhaps, then, the only thing that felt real was Trina's words. Someone they barely knew, yet someone who seemed to know them, and their kind, more than Rhys did. But surely Rhys could do better.
"Mispy, I won't allow you to go to Trina," Rhys said. "It's not a good time. She seems to be very particular about—"
"She'll let us in."
"Mispy," Rhys said firmly, "you are staying here. Do not let her get to you."
Rhys stood in front of the exit. Mispy, due to her size, required the entire passageway to go through and had to stop.
"Why do you want to go there, Mispy? For what purpose? What would this accomplish?"
"Move."
"Mispy." Rhys spoke a bit more firmly, earning the smallest hint of a flinch from her. In response, Rhys softened his tone. "What's gotten into you? Please, listen to me."
That didn't help; Mispy's expression twisted to a glare. "Like I'm designed to?"
Rhys flinched, tail dipping between his legs. "N-no. Not because of that. Listen to… reason. Mispy, please. We can talk about this, can't we? It's just one night, and we can go after that."
"I'm not tired," Mispy said, but her stare faltered. "I…"
Rhys hesitated, but then looked down at the mess of vines. "Demitri, what do you think? Are you really sure that seeing Trina would be a good idea? What if she tries to control you?"
Mispy's vines wrapped another revolution around Demitri, even when he was still buried somewhere inside.
"I…" Demitri's voice remained muffled. "I don't know. It's all so… I'm… I don't know what to think anymore."
"You feel lost," Elder spoke up. "And you think Trina can guide you?"
Mispy winced, but then, suddenly, her body shifted slightly in color. Her usual, bright green became slightly yellowish. Her neck expanded significantly in width, looking more like a torso in shape, and the scales toughened, too. Two large axes sprouted on either side of her face—the upper half of Demitri's upper body was attached to Mispy's torso. The last to form were the arms. The first action of the behemoth with these arms was to wipe her eyes.
"Why am I like this?" she asked. "I… I hate it. I can't go out anymore. I never will. I can never go to… Ludicolo Café. I can't take jobs for the Hearts. I can't even train at the dojo. Because… because I'm fake. I'm a mutant. The Hearts are supposed to kill me! Or at least relocate them for you or Nevren to just… send away."
"That's far from the truth," Rhys said hastily. "That—that wouldn't happen at all! If I came with you, and said you were an ally, surely we'd—"
"Is that why we had to hide?" she asked immediately. "I had to be told to look normal and act normal?" She waited for a reply, but Rhys couldn't think of one. "I'm a monster. I needed an illusion just to… to…"
"Mispy… Demitri…"
The fusion turned away. "Mimi."
"Oh, that's lovely," Elder said with a smile.
"Mimi," Rhys said gently, "I promise you, we will go to see Trina tomorrow. First thing in the morning." He paused. "After breakfast."
"Do you promise?"
"I…" Rhys hesitated. "Yes. I promise."
Mimi held out her hand, claws tense. "Do you Divine Promise?"
Rhys stared uneasily. "I can't promise that," he said. "There could be an interruption of some kind that could prevent us from going there that early. But I do promise, on my honor, Mimi. I will do everything I can so you can visit Trina."
Elder spoke up. "I'll be sure to pester him to do just that."
The Haxorus-Meganium fusion stared at Rhys. Deep, red eyes that Rhys matched with equal intensity. They held it without blinking.
"Fine," Mimi said, breaking her stare. "Tomorrow."
Rhys wondered if Mimi would be sleeping in that fused state. Based on how she was curling up, she was. The Haxorus upper half leaned forward, awkwardly trying to find a cozy position. That didn't quite work. Next, she tried to turn to the side, and it seemed like she was getting somewhere closer to comfort. She brought a few vines forward to use as a blanket, bed, and pillow. While the thorns were sharp, her scales were tough, and she didn't get poked by any of them. The rest of her body—the Meganium half—had the rest of the vines draped along the floor, spilling along most of the room.
"Well." Rhys stood awkwardly. "Good night, Mimi."
Mimi nodded, grabbing some of her vines to squeeze during the night. Elder stepped out of the room, went across the hall, and settled in Rhys' bed next. "Come, Rhys," he said. "They won't leave. I trust them."
Mimi squeezed her vines a little tighter, but nodded. "Good night."
Rhys saw that little spark in her aura. She had planned to run away. But Elder said he trusted them. Now, she couldn't.
A seemingly endless hall of white, marble walls beckoned Eon inside. His heavy, scaly steps echoed. The flame at the end of his tail crackled. Great, orange wings were folded behind him, pressing firmly against his back. His fingers tensed, claws prodding at his palm.
"Back off, I said!" shouted a rumbling voice.
"Give it back! I totally called dibs!"
"Rrragh!"
A plume of smoke flooded the left corridor, dirtying Eon's left side.
"Oops—sorry!"
Eon glanced to the right and saw a mutant Meganium wrapping around a thrashing Garchomp with oversized blades and sharp scales.
The Charizard continued walking down.
"What's got him in a mood?" murmured the Meganium.
"Lemme go!"
"Then give me Auntie's cookie!"
"Mine!" Loud munching.
The Meganium gasped. "You JERK!" She slammed the Garchomp against the opposite wall. He broke loose and returned the favor with a heavy tackle. The scuffle continued and faded into echoes.
Eon spun on his feet and turned to the right, passing by a few more mutants. They all eyed Eon curiously. "Are you okay?" one asked.
"I'm just fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"If you're starting to feel unstable, you should see Dad, okay?"
Eon stopped, staring at the mutant. It was a Lycanroc with a crimson, furry back and scaly, powerful limbs. His Charizard form melted away, shifting into an exact copy of the Lycanroc.
She gasped. "Oh, Mew! I'm sorry, Dad!"
"It's just fine."
"Wow! You held onto that Charizard form for a long time! Are you getting better at your, um, issue?"
Eon winced. "Someone just happened to be in my thoughts." Even as he spoke, his left arm became orange, and half of a wing sprouted from his back.
"Oh, okay," the mutant replied. "Um—okay, Dad."
Eon nodded and continued on his way. It only took a few seconds for him to stumble, grow, and return to Owen's shape. Eon made one last turn and saw a dead end with a large "1" written in black Bluk paint. Approaching the very end of the white wall, he stopped and muttered, "Ten."
In less than a blink, the "1" in front of Eon turned into a "10." He turned around and walked down a new hallway, this one decorated with little doodles on the wall.
"Rhouff!"
The bark was loud enough to shake Eon's ribs. It was a Houndoom, but with a few odd modifications—one with pronounced, bone-like armor on its front half and jagged, sharp horns from either side of its head. His chest armor sported two tusks that hooked forward and out of its shoulders.
He skidded to a stop right in front of Eon, sitting down with a happy, panting face. He barked again.
"Lucas," Eon greeted with a forced smile. "How are you feeling?" His body melted to a quadrupedal form, mimicking Lucas and his pronounced chest armor. This earned a few excited licks from the Houndoom. Eon chuckled quietly, "So, you're handling that Mega form well, are you? Good. Just remember to release it if you feel uneasy. Fetch Auntie Rim and Uncle Hecto, will you?"
"Rhouff!" He spun and bounded off.
Eon watched for a while, and then heaved a sigh. By the time his eyes were open again, he was on two legs, keeping his tail above the ground so it didn't heat the tile.
Eon heard—and felt—a distant rumbling noise again, gradually increasing in volume. He recognized that sound anywhere. Eon kept walking, even as the rolling got louder, and suddenly, stopped the intersection between this hallway and the next. Something large and purple rolled past him, much taller than he was. Eon leaned forward to watch the Scolipede slow down, stop, and then roll in reverse. Eon stepped back. It hopped in the hallway—thankfully, the ceilings were quite high—and unraveled in mid-air, landing on its four legs.
"Papa!" the Scolipede squealed.
"Hello, Lavender," Eon greeted, forcing another smile. His body shifted and hardened into Lavender's double.
"I thought I sensed you! How come you looked like a Charizard?"
"I just had it on my mind, Lavvie," Eon said. "How have you been doing?"
"I'm doing great! I'm gonna get dinner!"
"It's quite late, you know. Shouldn't you be going to bed?"
"N-no, it's not late!"
"Everyone should be going to bed pretty soon, you know. Go tell them. I still need to do some nighttime work."
Lavender stared at Eon with wide, watery, pleading eyes.
"That won't work on me, Lavender," Eon said, quickly turning away. "It's time for bed. You need to meditate, too, don't you? Keep your spirits up."
Lavender didn't stop.
Eon tried to step out of the way, but two Scolipede were just too bulky to squeeze past the same intersection—particularly when Lavender was strategically standing diagonally.
"Just one more hour," Lavender begged. "I wanna train some more!"
Eon sighed. "Fine. One more hour."
"Yaay!" Lavender headbutted Eon in the neck, eliciting a wheeze. "I love you, Papa!" He curled up and rolled down the hall again. Just at that moment, Rim stepped into the white hall. Her wide eyes bulged even wider when and she dove back into the hall she came from, narrowly avoiding him.
Eon smiled at Rim when she approached; his form shrank and shrank until he was exactly her. "Hey, Rim."
"Mn…" Rim nodded, stepping closer. She gave him an affectionate nuzzle on the cheek. "How…?"
"I'm… I've been better," Eon said, turning away. "Where's Hecto?"
Rim shrugged. "Lucas…"
"Mm. Well, I need to talk to Nevren. And… I wanted you all to be there. I want to know how Elder is doing, anyway. If they took him in, then he's probably with Rhys and the rest of Star's minions."
Rim nodded.
"Let's just go to my room," he sighed, rubbing his forehead.
Rim frowned, but followed. "How did…?"
"Owen?"
Rim nodded.
Eon didn't answer.
Rim gently bumped against her double while they walked.
They turned after the third doorway, stopping in front of it. Eon held his hand forward, and the metal door parted. The inside was a neatly decorated room. The corner held a large, king-sized bed with a mattress stuffed with cotton and covered by a large, black, smooth blanket. There was a desk with a small nightstand made of dark wood. Atop the desk was a simple, black headlamp. Opposite of the desk was a mahogany bookshelf sparsely lined with a few books on each level. The lowest shelf had what appeared to be a thick, often-opened book. The spine was worn to the point that one needed to be told it used to be a hardcover.
"Oh," Rim said, perking up. She dug through the small bag around her chest and pulled out a few rolled up papers, handing it to Eon.
"What's this?" Eon asked, opening one. He instantly grew in size, going from an Espurr body to one of a Haxorus. "Oh," he said, marveling at the detailed sketch of the very form he took. "Nate works quickly, doesn't he? I never expected the Dark Guardian to be such an artist, but he really is talented. And it's not nearly as expensive or time consuming as that Smeargle in town."
"Mm," Rim said, giggling.
"He likes the kids, doesn't he?" Eon asked. "New bodies for him to study and draw. I'm surprised that's all we needed to do to convince him to come in the first place. That was good thinking on Nev's part." He hesitated, looking at the pictures. He slowly went to the bookshelf and leaned down, grabbing the worn book. "Rim," he said, "would you mind sorting through this and replacing the old drawings?"
Rim nodded. Her eyes glowed and, with a gentle Psychic wave, pulled the book from Eon's claws and lowered it to the ground. It was tabbed alphabetically, and Rim first moved to the H tab and found Haxorus. She winced. She remembered drawing this one. The proportions were all off, and Eon struggled to transition into the species by using it as a reference. There was one time he actually did turn into the sketch, almost exactly, and could barely move. The bone structure was all wrong, and his tail took up more than half his body. She was happy to replace it with a more accurate drawing.
"How's Nate doing, anyway?" Eon asked. "I didn't go to the eighth floor on the way here."
"Fine," Rim said. "Playing."
"With the kids? That's good. I was worried they'd scare each other."
"Mm. No."
Eon nodded, but then sat against the foot of his bed, sighing. Rim watched Eon, but then wobbled closer and hopped onto his chest.
"Wh—Rim!" Eon said. His form shrank and fur sprouted all over his scales. Rim pressed against his furry chest, pulling him as close as she could.
"It's okay."
Eon flinched; their cheeks touched. But after a long pause, he relaxed, wrapping his tiny arms around her the best he could. Rim did the same. And in that quiet silence, Eon's form slowly shifted again. Fur shrank and hardened to scales, and Rim went from embracing an Espurr to merely hanging on to the belly of a synthetic Charizard.
Rim rubbed her tiny nose against Eon.
"He said," Eon started, "that… the other parents raised him longer. He doesn't want to come back. All of that time we spent together…" His claws shook. "I lost him. I… I lost him…!"
"No," Rim said softly, nuzzling his chest. "It's okay…"
Eon was shaking, rubbing his eyes. He didn't want Rim to look at him, and she honored his wishes, but she still remained on top, embracing his chest as well as her tiny arms could.
Someone knocked on their door.
"That must be Hecto," Eon choked. He took in a sharp breath, wiped his eyes, and sat up. "Rim, could you get him?"
"Mn." The Espurr wobbled to the door and pressed her paw on it. The tenth of a Zygarde stepped in, nodding.
"How is he?" Eon asked.
"You will need to specify."
"Who do you think?!" Eon snapped, digging a claw into his own chest.
"Hm. I do not know. I do not have a copy stationed on Emily's island. You never considered it a priority, due to her… condition. However, with one of Nevren's communicators, I was able to at least overhear their conversations. They are playing a word game while Amia and Jerry heal."
Eon's claws ground against one another.
"I would also recommend," Hecto said, "giving up your power, and abandoning your—"
"Yes, yes, as you always say," Eon growled. "Remember that I only allow you here to keep me updated, Minion of Star."
"I am not her minion," Hecto said. His expression did not change. "I am her mate."
"She only keeps you around because you can survey the world like she can't."
Hecto's right paw twitched. Nothing else moved.
Rim shifted uncomfortably.
"Why do you want me here?" Hecto asked. "You never allow me to the tenth floor. Nate's spirits torment me on the eighth. They do not understand personal space. I have no doubts that some of the southern rumors of the Abyss are true."
"Have they said anything about surrendering?" Eon asked.
"The notion was dismissed silently," Hecto said. "There was not any discussion on the matter."
"Of course there wasn't," Eon growled. "That will be all, Hecto. Thank you."
Hecto remained where he stood.
"I said thank you," Eon said.
"I am not Star's minion."
"Fine, you're her happy-go-lucky toy-mate, is that better?"
Hecto stared for a while, but then turned around, leaving. Once the door closed—and Rim confirmed that his aura was leaving for the warp to higher floors—Eon walked toward his desk and pulled open a drawer. He grabbed a single badge, slightly different from the communicators that Nevren had given Star's group. He pressed on the button and waited.
"Hello?" Nevren said. "Eon, this isn't the best time."
"Call it off."
"What?"
"Call it off."
Nevren was quiet. "Eon, now is truly not a good time. I'm in Hot Spot Cave. Everybody is around. I was barely able to get time to myself."
"Did you already perform Plan D?"
"Yes. I can't stop it now."
"Then don't move any further. Just… how far have you gone?"
"Anam has been rewritten, but he can break free at any time if I'm not careful. It's a very perilous position, Eon. You know I can't hold it for very long."
"Well—how long can you hold him there?"
"Why must I wait? Owen and the others will be here soon. I can—"
"Do not," Eon said. "That is an order."
"And when Anam ultimately breaks loose and kills me?" Nevren asked, his tone still as idle as if he was talking about sunny weather.
"How—how much time do you have?"
"Well, if I'm very diligent, I imagine I can make this last indefinitely. But a more realistic scenario is that I will make a mistake after a few weeks."
"Then—then wait until… wait until then," Eon said.
"Really, just wait?" Nevren asked. "That's your plan?"
"I'll think of something."
"Is this about Owen, again?" Nevren asked. "Honestly, Eon, if you miss him that much, I could easily make another. And this time, I will make it so he does not care that he is a replacement."
"You know that's not the same thing," Eon said.
"What would be the difference? Some fabricated memories here, the same flaws and emotions there, give him a name, and you have Owen. I'll even try to reproduce memories about the old days—"
"IT'S NOT THE SAME," Eon roared. "I WANT HIM BACK!" Eon slammed the communicator on the desk, resulting in the table, and then the concrete beneath it, to shatter. The communicator lay in the rubble, still functional.
"You know it isn't the same, and you know that it doesn't work. I was an idiot to even think to do that, and now they've run off, too. I want Owen back. I want my partner back, Nevren. I know you can't relate to that, but… but if you do anything to him, I'll… I'll kill you. And no amount of luck from that charm of yours is going to stop me."
Eon tremored. The Charizard glared at the rubble, focusing on the communicator as if Nevren would somehow be able to see his glare. He waited for a reply.
"Very well," Nevren said. "I will give you time to win Owen back. But do not blame me if my hand is forced. I will, however, give it an honest effort. Are we in agreement?"
It took a long while for Eon to reply. "Fine."
The communication ended with a light tap. Rim stared at Eon for a while longer. She had never seen him last in the same form, without looking at it, for so long. And in Eon's eyes, Rim saw the same determined light that Owen had.
But there was no way Owen was going to happily see Eon again at this rate, and especially not if Nevren was going to have to unleash Anam before Plan D came falling apart. There had to be some way to… ah!
"Um…"
Eon glanced at her.
"I have… an idea."
