Chapter 70 – Aftershocks

The idea that she could have trusted Star at all was one of the worst thoughts Zena had ever entertained.

For tens, perhaps hundreds, of years, she had sat, holed up in the middle of some quiet cave, fearing for her life that she had long overstayed. Wasting it away doing nothing but meditating and sleeping the generations away. Yet that in itself was a torture that still frightened her in the back of her mind.

In hindsight, she didn't know how she dealt with it. She had slipped into that eternal cycle without realizing it. Sleep, wake up, see nothing. Sleep, wake up, see nothing. Was it really sleeping? No, because she never felt rested when she did. She didn't need to rest. It was more some strange, twisted form of thoughtless brumation. The only thing that kept her from closing herself forever was the possibility that a Hunter would come to disturb her slumber.

And then the times someone did trespass. A curious little feral, or a bothersome treasure hunter. Star told her that it would be a bad idea to get them involved. The caves didn't have a lot of life in it—it was meant for spirits and, being within a Dungeon's stable pocket, didn't have much for the ferals. And the treasure hunters, well, they would be meddlesome at best and dangerous at worst. In a morbid sense, Hunters counted as spelunkers of the violent variety.

She said it all so convincingly. So earnestly. Yet if Zena could go back and tell that young, frightened, confused, new Water Guardian what would happen if she listened… perhaps she could have found a better approach.

Anything to avoid that torment that she had to endure. She hadn't realized it at first—Star told her that it would be like nothing. That she would be able to rest and be dormant for a while until it all blew over. When would it blow over, and for what? What exactly was there to blow over? Zena didn't know, even now; Star simply didn't want the Orbs to meet.

What Star didn't tell her was that it wouldn't be true dormancy. No. Every visitor, every trespasser to her old abode, every feral and every explorer, woke her up. Every new visitor brought her a new sense of fear, or annoyance, that she couldn't waste her eternity away. Every time she awoke, she'd wonder how much time had passed, how far away her old life had become, how many revolutions the world had taken without her. How trapped she had become, and how much further trapped she was.

Even though they were all false alarms, aside from when Elder had appeared, but in hindsight, Zena learned something else. Every time they visited, and every time she had to will herself to go back into that eternal darkness, she sometimes wondered if those feral Pokémon could have visited her. Or the explorers, selfish as they may have been in search of treasure, could have been good for conversation.

But Star was a convincing one. She told her that it wouldn't be a good idea to be discovered; to keep her glow as weak as possible, to be dormant so she wouldn't be discovered at all. So her spirits frightened them away. The last set of explorers that she had scared off was Team Alloy themselves. It was the first time that explorers had been so determined to go inside, like they were aware of her presence. Their aura were unlike the others—though now she knew why—and Star said that she'd have to scare him off quickly. Yet that was what brought Owen right back to her later. Yelled at her sprits, even!

She didn't really know what to do after that. She'd stayed in the lake, like she always had, until inevitably the explorer would get bored and leave after seeing no treasure there, only the empty lake. Yet Owen didn't leave. He knew she was there, and he started… talking.

Zena shook her head. Without him even realizing it, he'd been the one to finally break that cycle of darkness for her. All that lashing about, all that self-imposed isolation, so easily broken because he had said a few sad words. How when they'd moved her into Hot Spot, he had offered to rest near her lake on that first night. Their games of marbles, the books he had read—even if most of them had been a bit boring—it had all been something that she had needed.

Yet she didn't comfort him when he needed it.

"Oy."

Zena jolted up. "I—I'm sorry." She looked down and to her right, spotting Manny on their way through the Grass Realm.

Step was ahead of them, looking for Ra, Cent, Kana, and the other weaker spirits that were waiting for them.

"Yer distracted."

"I—of course I'm distracted. We just witnessed Star try to kill Eon by controlling one of our own. I'm… I'm just getting over that shock."

"Yeah, guess I am, too," Manny said. "Was real unlike Star. We go way back, y'know. And I guess I figure she'd've done somethin' like this if it was Eon, but… I dunno. Something must really've been bugging her."

"What, you understand her?" Zena scoffed. "As far as I'm concerned, that god is dead to me. To do what she did…"

Manny held up his arms noncombatively. "I get it. But I'm gonna keep an ear out fer her anyway."

"How are you suddenly so forgiving?" Zena narrowed her eyes, her tail flicking behind her. "You were quite content with fighting against her."

Manny grumbled. "Look, it didn't sit right with me, either. Hecto and Star went too far there. She was off terrorizing those mutants, fer one, and then went off killing Eon… what happens after, if we didn't go and help Owen?" He rubbed his forehead, like he was trying to sort through his own foolish, misguided thoughts. "Something ain't right. She's been shady fer too long, and I guess her doing this behind our backs is what sealed it fer me. But I wanna hear her out, too."

"What exactly did she do to help you? You two barely speak."

Manny shifted his stance, even while he walked. Zena analyzed this, tilting her head. She'd never seen Manny so uncomfortable before. "Manny?"

"Star believes in second chances. I guess I'm just returning the favor."

"I've already given Star my second chance," Zena said, visions of that eternal, dark cave flashing through her mind again. "Do what you want, Manny. Don't expect me to follow."

"Yeah, I get it." Manny bowed his head.

Zena bristled, feeling a sudden urge to soak Manny in icy water. She restrained herself, turning that energy into a question. "Can you at least explain why you think Star would still want anything that isn't just for herself? After what she just did? How can you trust her if she doesn't tell us what she wants?"

Manny glanced at Zena then, and for the briefest moment, his face contorted into a scowl. But he washed it away seconds later. "Tch." His eyes focused ahead; Zena followed his gaze. The other spirits were waving at them, along with a recently-freed and shivering Hecto. "Star goes too far sometimes and you gotta reel her in. But the thing is, her heart's in the right place, and I dunno if she actually lied ter you when she said what she really wanted."

"Really, and what's that?" Zena said, skeptical. "As far as I can tell, Star wanted to kill Eon, then Rim, and then take Owen away from us. Why else would Hecto be so evasive? We come here to try to save Owen, and then Hecto tells us that we shouldn't come any closer. Star went out of her way to possess him instead… do you have any idea how badly that will end for Owen? How often people have already tried to control him?"

"All Star wants is the Hunters to stop," Manny said. "Figure… that's what she wanted to do, now that we're outta the thick of it."

"What, then you regret following us?" Zena said. "Step, Amia, and I—we all were here for Owen. What about you?"

Manny narrowed his eyes, looking at the ground. "I came ter make sure Owen was gonna make the right choice, and that Eon wasn't gonna try and control him, yeah. Maybe if Star let us through, I'd've helped her, instead of her being so evasive through Hecto. I figure you guys got spooked at Star suddenly making a move when she's just been watching the whole time."

"Hmph. Star was on thin ice to begin with." Step puffed out a plume of frost. "The moment she did something out of line with our expectations, I intended to contest her. This was more than enough, and I imagine Amia has the same to say. Considering your affinity for the pink demon, I am surprised you fought along with us. Then again, you didn't seem to be very enthusiastic during the fight…"

"Yeah, well, I wasn't about ter go against all you guys," Manny muttered. "I'm just gonna hear her out. Star gave me a second chance, so I'm giving one t' her. Return the favor."

"Pathetic to trust someone such as her," Step said with another scoff. "Someone with so much power, faltering even once? Unacceptable. She is unfit. She could have tried to gather the Orbs for herself in some way. We did not know she could take over a body until now; she was waiting. She knew she could, all this time, and feigned helplessness."

Manny had no counter; Zena, too, shrank a bit. That was the only way this could have been true; could that have been why Star was so interested in Owen? That he was easy to control? It was part of his design, after all. But… what if Manny was right, too? What if she intended to use Owen just to take the Hunters down?

She didn't know anymore. Both Manny and Step had good points… but she couldn't will herself to forgive Star anyway. Now after seeing Owen suffer—not after that defeated face of his.

"Where's Amia?"

Alex's trembling voice brought Zena out of her thoughts. The Fire spirit, still a Hydreigon, drifted toward them, searching for some sign of his mate with wide eyes; even his smaller, brainless hand-heads looked fearful.

Manny was the one to answer. "During the fight, she got beat up too badly and embered out."

Alex's three mouths opened simultaneously in muted shock. Cent and Kana rushed to his aid, fearing that he'd collapse in midair. "A-Amia… she… the…"

"Then that means she went to the aura sea," Ra spoke up, and before the Zygarde could react, he grabbed him by the nape of his neck and tugged upward. Even while Hecto grunted and twitched his legs in a futile attempt to touch the ground, Ra said to him, "Where is she now, Hecto?"

"Ngh… give me a moment to verify," Hecto said. "A lot is happening at the moment."

"Oh? And what is happening?" Step asked, crossing her arms. "Speak. Where have you put Amia, or did you so carelessly force her across the aura sea?"

Hecto stared at the ground, eyes dimming. It was the indicator that his eyes were 'closed,' and he was concentrating on something afar, Zena deduced. Likely speaking with his other copies and gathering information on all that they were observing.

"The wraiths in the middle of Aether Forest were destroyed, at least for now, but Rhys was seriously hurt. He is currently recovering in the Hall of Origin with the Trinity, though they have already departed. Arceus intends to deliver him back to his body when he is ready, but for now, he is not much for conversation. However, I do recommend navigating through Aether Forest with caution, in case the wraiths return. You should be fast."

"Not—not until you tell me what happened to Amia," Alex said frantically, floating right in front of Hecto. Ra raised Hecto a bit so the Hydreigon and Zygarde would be closer to eye-level. "Where is she? What did you do to her?"

Hecto was silent for a second too long.

Alex's breathing doubled in pace, floating back. "You… what did you…"

Zena saw it in those black eyes—a flash of rage that she thought wasn't possible from the meek spirit. It almost didn't look like him at all, some other Alex coming to the front.

"If you… do anything to her…" Alex drifted forward so menacingly, with his dark wings sparking with flaming energy so violently, that even Ra took a step back for Hecto's sake.

Hecto spoke quickly, "I—Star gave me the order that I relocate Amia to the Fire Orb. And while that is a bit difficult with Aether Forest the way it is, I am still able to do so."

The Hydreigon didn't stop his slow advance. "Then what did you do? You say Star gave the order, yet you never said you did. Where is Amia?" His voice suddenly twisted into an uncharacteristic snarl, crimson-colored embers dripping from all three mouths. "Or will I have to rip that out of you?!"

"A-Alex?!"

"Whoa, whoa!"

"Grab 'im!"

It took the efforts of Azu, Roh, Verd, Manny, and Step to keep Alex from tearing Hecto apart. Ra took a few more steps back, and even Hecto, with his ears pinned to the back of his head, winced. Zena slithered between Alex and Hecto as a physical barrier between them, too stunned by Alex's complete shift in personality to say anything. Even his voice sounded different. He had been that way against Barky, too. Just for a moment.

"Alex, calm down. Owen wouldn't want to see you like this." The words fell from Zena's mouth, but she knew they would be true. And almost as quickly as she'd said it, Alex's flames died down about halfway. Then, when she imaged her words had fully processed, the Alex she was familiar with returned to his eyes.

"A-Amia," Alex said weakly. "Hecto, p-please…"

"It is as I said. I have no intention of harming Amia; I will bring her to the Fire Orb. Ra, you know better than anyone that Star is prone to giving second chances to those who have wronged her."

Ra flinched, nearly losing his hold on Hecto. But that didn't matter; he lowered Hecto to the ground anyway, albeit with a defiant huff. "He's not wrong. I can't imagine Hecto sending Amia anywhere except the Fire Orb."

Even Step grudgingly agreed. "She's forgiven worse."

And now Alex was sniffling, and that was enough for the others to let him go. He rubbed the top of his hand-heads under his eyes.

"I am in the process of locating her," Hecto said. "Until then, it may not be wise to return to the Fire Orb on your own. Step, would you and your Ice spirits escort Alex to the Fire Orb? Then return to your own. Manny, perhaps you can escort Zena to hers."

"Finally, you're speaking with reason," Step said.

"I am always reasonable."

Step ignored him and faced Alex. "Shall we, then?"

"O-oh, of—of course. Yes. Thank you."

Manny smiled, but then gave a little flourishing bow to Zena. "And are yeh ready ter go?" he asked.

"Of course." Zena nodded. "Er, and thank you, Manny. I… I'm a bit beside myself at the moment with what happened."

"Do not worry." Step interjected. Her typical glare briefly subsided, replaced with a small, encouraging shine. "You were strong with us."


It was good to be in the sun again, even if it was well past noon by now, perhaps even approaching early evening. Feeling in a Grassy mood for once, Owen was in his Florizard form—title courtesy of Amelia—during his glide over the ocean.

Unfortunately, he still had a bit of a headache. So, you're saying that you blew my head off?

Yeah, um, I'm sorry about that, Tox said. I mean, we are. We panicked and were trying to get you off of us. We didn't think it'd actually…!

Owen sighed. It's okay. I guess when Star possessed me, all that power made me, like, break down, kinda like what happened to Anam. Sure, I'm more durable, but my body got all… undefined. Like an aura or a spirit. He twitched his arms and rubbed at his belly. Never got to finish dinner…

Where are you going, anyway? Tox asked. It looks like… you're flying over the water?

Dad went there once to see you. Are you gonna go back there to think?

I, uh, I don't think I want to see Emily right now, Owen said, wincing. She's nice 'n all, but… A-anyway, no. I actually wanted to see someone else. See, Amelia and I were thinking, and… and I just don't really know who to talk to anymore. And I… I need to talk to someone who knows about… Pokémon like me, I guess. Someone who isn't Da—er, Eon. Or Star, or Mom, or… all the people who just… lied to me.

Pokémon like you?

Just… ones meant to follow orders, I guess. That's what I am, right? I just want some more answers, and from someone who probably won't… try to control me for it.

Amelia spoke up next. He wants to see Brandon, that person who called himself a Pokémon trainer. He even has six Pokémon with him that were, like, part of his team, or something.

Owen shook his head, getting distracted by the expanse of nothingness around him. He reached up and plucked out his horns, sighing with relief when that sense left him.

Ahead, the factory stood with its black sand and slightly murky waters. The building, an eyesore on the ocean, housed the Poké Ball factory. With a few careful wingbeats, Owen descended to the black sand, sinking a bit now that he was so much heavier than his naïve, Charmeleon self. He grimaced at the thought; he almost missed when he had been so proud of himself just to prove that he could keep himself from evolving.

With a discontent churr, Owen continued through the factory until he was in the main bay, claws clacking against the concrete. He swished his tail behind him, brushing against the strange material, so different from the concrete they had in Kilo, perhaps for how old it was. He wondered if these walls were even reinforced with Protect barriers or not. Sure, they weren't as strong as a real Protect, but… Owen almost worried that it would come crashing around him with how old it was.

Nobody was there. "Brandon?" His voice echoed back to him, but that was the only reply he received. He never got to go much further than this last time; he was almost curious what he'd find. Squeezing the horns in his hand reminded him that he had a much easier way to find Brandon.

He snapped them back on and focused. Countless Poké Balls were on the production line, and even more were stored away in rooms just beyond the main one, through passageways that had the doors pulled out of them. Perhaps they used to be mechanical like the ones in Quartz HQ, but due to energy running out, Brandon just knocked them open.

No Brandon, though. He couldn't tell what was inside a Poké Ball, so he just had to hope he didn't hide by capturing himself. Continuing through, he spotted another ruined doorway. He slipped through and entered a hallway that felt just a bit cramped, made with more concrete. It looked like there used to be something on top of this stone, but time had long since worn it away.

He still couldn't find Brandon, but it felt like there was still a lot more of the factory to explore. This hallway led to other rooms that had strange desks too small for Owen; they were made of some odd material that Owen couldn't place at first, but then realized it was like some sort of solid rubber, though it didn't stick the same way rubber did. It was oddly familiar.

Owen blinked several times, walking toward one of the desks. There was an object on top of it, some kind of oblong cube with a black square on one of the sides. It reminded him of an older version of some of the devices used in Kilo for data tracking, especially at the hospital for getting aura readings.

Owen shook his head—he couldn't let himself get so distracted. The hall went on for a while, despite how small it seemed from the outside. Perhaps it was just the largeness of the first room that made these cramped quarters seem so much more twisted and labyrinthine. It felt like another Dungeon, though he didn't see any distortion to suggest as much. It wasn't like it was bigger on the inside. If anything, Emily was the one who seemed a bit too big inside.

The Charizard shuddered at the stray thought. If I keep thinking back to that, I'm gonna have to go back to therapy… Flashes of sitting, cross-legged during one of his old, old lives came to mind, a Hypno helping him practice some mental exercises to suppress his need for battle. Just another fragment of his forgotten lives. He'd always associated that meditation with Rhys and his parents' reinforcement of the same methods. But perhaps they learned it from his therapy?

Every day, he was remembering new things about himself. Yet it still all felt empty.

His parents… his family. They had still gone through that trouble to try to keep his aura in check—and his mind. All that effort and time, and what did he do to repay them? Went off and fled back to Eon. The reason for returning to Eon was unknown to him; thinking rationally, why would he have? Yet it felt so right to return.

"Nnngh!" Owen shook his head violently, trying to literally hurl the invasive ideas from his head. No! He didn't owe them anything. He wasn't about to go crawling back to them just because he felt lost, and confused, and scared, and—

With a loud clank, Owen's snout slammed into a wall. "UGH!" He rubbed his nose, looking at his paws to make sure he didn't wind up drawing blood. Nothing. Still, he could smell cut grass. "Who put this wall here?"

Don't you have Perceive? Amelia chimed in. How do you run into anything?

I—I got distracted, okay?! He rubbed the back of his neck, focusing on his surroundings. Where am I, anyway? I feel like I've been walking for a while and I still can't find Brandon. I kinda feel like I'm snooping around his home…

Isn't… that exactly what—

I know, I know, realized it the second I thought it.

But this time, he could actually feel Brandon's body. He went backward, opening a door that he had missed by a few paces, one of the few doors that actually remained in this facility. There, within one of the old rooms, was a metallic Machoke, slouched over in the corner. Arms crossed and posture unguarded, it seemed like he was asleep.

A low, curious growl escaped Owen's throat, and he lowered his stance as if to mirror Brandon's. In the ambient light of the factory, likely powered by Brandon's Mystic power in the same way Amia powered the Hot Spot mushrooms and lava, Brandon's metal form shined. Owen tilted his head left and right to watch the light's reflection dance on his muscles, and then focused on his closed eyelids. Left, right, the light followed him with the reflection.

Brandon's eyes opened. Instantly, the Machoke yelped and rolled to the side. "GAH!"

Owen squeaked, uncharacteristically high-pitched for his size, and fell on his rear. "S-sorry!"

"C'mon, man, this is my room!" Brandon rubbed his eyes. "Can't a guy save his boss in peace?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Owen repeated. "I just—the light looked really cool on your body."

"Oh, really, well take a good look." Brandon spun around, sticking a thumb back at Owen. "In fact, why don't you bite my shiny—"

"Wow, that's actually really smooth," Owen remarked, tapping his chin with an almost analytical gaze.

Brandon stiffened and turned back around. "Wh—you—that—" He squeezed the air in frustration. Then, he pressed his fingers against his temple, making another loud clang. After a long silence, or at least, it felt long, he breathed out. "Nope. Let's reset. Why are you here?"

"Er, right, uh…" Owen had completely forgotten. "…I'm here… because…" It was really shiny, practically like Gahi. "Oh! Right. Um, so, how filled in are you with what just… happened?"

"What, you mean the wraiths?"

"Wraiths? What? No, about Star."

"I mean, Star was attacked by the wraiths, too. But after that, she headed to your realm to warn you guys about it. Probably also to check up on you—I mean, you know how she worries."

Every word Brandon said made the little pit in his stomach just a bit heavier. "Yeah, er, I don't know a whole lot about those wraith things, but… when Star showed up in the Grass Realm, she actually sort of… tried to kill Eon."

"Eh? She tried to kill Eon? Well, how'd that go?"

"She got Rim and took out her Orb, but not Eon. But then there was this fight in my realm with Zena, Mom, Step, and Manny, and, er, they were fighting Hecto, and—"

"Waaait, wait, wait, wait," Brandon held his arms up. "This sounds like it's gonna be a long conversation. Follow me." He turned around, walking through the halls. "Just try to explain it to me from the beginning. You don't mind if I tell the man upstairs about this?"

"The what?"

"Arceus."

"Oh, uh… I mean, I guess you have to, since, you know, you're under him."

"Yeah. Well, anyway, come on. Start at the very beginning."

Owen nodded, squeezing past the doorway again. "So, a while ago, Eon came to Hot Spot. . ."


No matter how careful the plan, and no matter how many times he had to try again and again, it seemed that a moment was not enough to truly get what he needed.

Nevren spun his silver communicator badge over in his palms, useless now that nobody was talking through them, and returned to inspecting his Revisor next. His spoons floated above him idly for a trivial mental exercise to keep his Psychic abilities sharp.

A moment: ninety seconds. That was the amount of time he could try, over and over—and how far back the humble Revisor allowed him to go back at a time. And then, for ninety seconds, it would have to recharge. Of course, there were imperfections; from the time it took for him to notice the glow, to the time when it was actually pressed, he perhaps lost a few precious fractions of a second, forever out of his reach. It felt tragic, even if the tedium of retrying for the ideal time was occasionally grating. Even his patience had its limits.

And yet, a moment was not enough. A shame, really. Five hundred years washed away by a strange demon of spectral rot. The Ghost Orb housed truly powerful and mysterious spirits for them to go undetected for so long. Had Anam been burdened by it for so long? Yet, something about it felt strange. Spirits did not normally behave that way, especially for them to be tied to one of the friendliest hosts possible. The Ghost Orb should have been a wonderful, whimsical world of hugs and hearts and revolting slime.

Nevren squeezed his eyes shut, briefly recalling the countless times Anam had tried showing some sign of affection toward him. A tackle here, a hug there—each one required a reset, or a long bath if it was unavoidable.

Yet that demon… What happened to James? And Madeline—she had been within Anam the whole time, yet was largely unknown to the others. Surely Anam would have told them… if he could.

Nevren flipped the badge over his palm again, finally slipping it into his bag.

If only he had Dialga by his side. He missed him terribly; he had vague memories of being partners with him almost like Rhys, yet now the only trace of him remaining was the Revisor, a blessed gemstone akin to the one within the Timekeeper's chest.

Time was such a strange thing. He remembered fragments of Dialga's speech about it. The different kinds of travel, all of them troublesome.

Nevren was tempted to click on the Revisor, just because he could, but refrained.

Even after all that persuasion, Dialga only gave him this weak little badge. But he supposed, all things considered, it was justified. Going into the past wouldn't change their present; either it was already set in stone, or they would be modifying a new, split-off world… leaving behind the old one. How did Dialga phrase it?

"I am not going to manage multiple universes, thank you."

Yes, that was it. So instead, he gave a much more controlled form… one that took a lot more divine energy, and therefore couldn't go nearly as far back, but it was a compromise. It was this or nothing; a Badge that wound the universe backwards. Of course, that didn't say anything as far as memories were concerned; for the physical mind, they were wiped. But to the spirit, memories were eternal.

It seemed that those who were created by Mystic power, or those who were Mystic themselves, ran the risk of remembering erased moments. He had to be very careful not to trigger those with Anam. Countless retries had been done just to tiptoe around mistakes done in revisions mere seconds earlier. Technically later, since it had been revised. And then, of course, there was Team Alloy…

There were so many times that he had wished he could have gone back more. And of course, there was the inkling desire to go all the way back to the beginning to stop it all… but that was impossible. He could already hear Dialga's lecture.

"Going back to fix this mess at its inception won't work. Would you cease upon altering the future to the ideal? Yet then, how would you have gone back at all, if there was never a need? Or would it simply make another world, foreign to your home reality? Or would the worlds be somehow linked? Not even I know! I refuse to entertain the notion. Such mechanics are unexplored. I maintain time first, and manipulate it second. And short of time itself stopping, I have no plans to look into the matter. Next topic!"

He always was a fussy one. Celebi would have been better, but with Dialga in the way, her powers, too, were limited. Perhaps it was for the best; the more he theorized, the more he was grateful that he had something much more manageable. With a sigh, Nevren lamented that the stern Timekeeper and the shy Timerider were both gone, just like all the others. He suspected Star had something to do with it, but she had played dumb just like Barky.

Why was it so dark?

Nevren blinked, putting his hand down to realize that he had gone blind. That would be very troublesome. No, that didn't seem right, either; the lights had gone out! He knew he should have installed Luminous Orbs in the caves. Why did Amia turn them all off? She was likely still in the Grass Realm… unless she had been defeated. Where would she have gone from there? Aura sea. That wouldn't have been enough to sever her influence.

This was likely worth investigating.

Nevren got to his feet and carefully navigated around Anam's slimy resting place. Even with the Goodra gone, his essence never quite left. He had a remarkable presence wherever he visited.

Nevren was glad to see a single light source to make the rest of it visible. Why Valle was suddenly as bright as the sun was another question, but perhaps he could ask another time. Nevren cleared his throat. "Has something happened?"

"It has become dark," Valle said.

"I observed as much."

"Where'd the sun go?" Willow said.

"No solar energy source is present: we are in a cave," ADAM reported.

"You know what I mean! Shut up! How come the mushrooms stopped?"

Jerry stammered in his room. "H-hey, whoa, whoa, big guy—"

Of all the alarmed noises, Jerry's caught his attention the most. Anam had gone on a fit and went conversing with the others. Hadn't he stopped in Jerry's home?

And then Anam came shambling out of the building, every step labored and uneven. Shadows swirled deep beneath the surface of his slimy body, visible only occasionally. He clutched his head, staggering down the road and toward the entrance.

Willow hopped several times and sparked with pink mist. "Umm—wait! Be careful about the traps!"

"Traps disabled," ADAM stated.

Anam sniffled, fingers digging into and through his head. "No… no… Amia… n-no…"

So he knew. Nevren quickened his pace, but not before realizing that a few were following him—namely, Demitri and Mispy.

"What's wrong with Anam?" Demitri asked.

"His aura…" Mispy winced, shaking her head. "Horrible…"

"Horrible?" That was a new descriptor. Though, he had to agree; as underdeveloped as his aura sight was with Mystic power alone, any sort of feeling that he got from Anam was… horrible. That was really the only word he had for it. He didn't want to look much longer.

"We're coming with you," Demitri said to Nevren.

Nevren supposed a bit of backup would be useful in case Anam went berserk again; he seemed to generally be calmer when it wasn't just the two of them—and whatever demonic occupant he was harboring.

"Then let's hurry. For someone so labored, he's moving quite fast."

Anam was already halfway to the exit; nobody else followed him, too unnerved by the black radiance that moved through the caverns in waves. Even Nevren wanted to stop, but his concern over Amia and the wellbeing of the others trumped his primal need to stay away.

Anam pushed weakly against the boulder that blocked the exit, digging his fingers against bumps and ridges along the edge. "Stop… stop…"

"Anam?" Nevren asked.

"St-stay away!" Anam begged, turning a single, void-black eye toward them.

Mispy flinched, swatting at the air in front of her as if Anam's very stare had assaulted her. Demitri hid behind Mispy, but then pointed worriedly at the ground. "L-look!"

The ground beneath Anam, where his slime touched, was melting. The very rocks were melting into a black dust, which in turn mixed with his slime to form a thick mud. It reminded Nevren of Rotwood Fen…

"I need to get out… I need to get out…"

Nevren stepped forward. "Anam, do you need me to help you?" He held his hand forward, though he had another hand on his Revisor. "Anam, please, can you tell me what's wrong? Are you… having trouble controlling your spirits? Your Ghostly powers have been—"

"Please… go away… I can't…"

Nevren didn't need a Revisor to know that it would be unwise to approach Anam in his current state. But there were a number of things he could try, right? Perhaps he could try mending Anam's mind a bit. Perhaps the sudden stress of instability caused his sprits to rebel against him? But then, Anam could turn around and kill him… No, Anam wouldn't do that.

His spirits might, though, particularly—ah.

"Anam, where's James?"

Anam shuddered, pressing his gooey form against the boulder. Darkness seeped into the rocks; it fell away instantly, becoming a pile of blackened dust. Evening light streamed through the hole left behind, which Anam walked through. Mispy tentatively prodded at some of the dust; her vines rotted slightly upon contact.

"Evening already," Nevren commented, but then used a Psychic blast to get rid of some of the black dust. When that wasn't enough, he held his hand forward and created a small, glowing bridge over the disintegrated boulders. "Come, let's go," he said. "Anam!"

The Goodra kept shambling, aimless, until he suddenly clutched at his head and moaned, falling to the ground. His head spattered against the dirt, blackness killing all grass within two steps of him, and steadily spread like a puddle of death. His arms and legs twitched weakly; he curled and uncurled his horns in pain.

"Anam…" Nevren said carefully. "Is there anything I can—"

Demitri gasped, pointing at the sky. "What—what's—"

Above Hot Spot's rocky hill, the evening sky was gone. In its place was a swirling vortex of purple clouds and nothing but empty darkness in the center.