Chapter 96 – Stubborn Hopeful

The annoying pest was still following him.

The red skies left little light for the trees to cast any shadows. Yet there was always that sixth sense of his radiant presence constantly bothering him like an itch he would never be rid of.

Dark Matter drifted along the Voidlands in silence, quelling the more defiant voices within his core. The loudest ones, of course, were of Anam's parents, the Salandit who denied his species, and the Goodra who denied her defeat.

He had tuned out their cries long ago, yet still they tugged at the back of his mind. Not that it mattered. He was used to screams.

Striking Kilo directly was no use. He did not have enough power in the physical world, and had reached a stalemate against Arceus. Gathering power in his spiritual domain came first.

Oh, it would have been easy to do so on his own, had his domain not already been split three-ways between a power-hungry Dragon and a powered-down Dragon. Neither of which was particularly cooperative. Perhaps if he killed one, he could defeat the other on his own.

"Stop right there!"

Wonderful.

One life in front of him, several more collecting around him. He could probably kill all of them quickly, but not without taking an annoying strike or two, and he wasn't in the mood for that.

"Arms up. Try anything, and…"

Dark Matter rolled his eyes and complied. Slimy fingers rose above his head, and his tail thumped behind him. "Hurry up," he demanded.

"…You're being pretty nonchalant for wandering around the forest, Goodra."

"I've been through this routine before," Dark Matter droned. "Go on, search me, do as you must. I'm very tired."

The first Pokémon revealed herself, this one a Gabite. Middle evolution, hm. That meant she likely had died at least once while here. Searching through his memories, he found her. This Gabite had lived in the Voidlands for two hundred or so years. She had fallen into a great despair and wandered too close to a Dungeon that hadn't been protected by Anam. Southern, most likely. She had been attacked within that Dungeon, and of course, succumbed to her wounds. Without Anam's blessing, her spirit belonged to him after that.

Gabite approached, looking him over. "You don't look dangerous," she said, but then pulled something from the bag around her chest. "But I'm still going to have to restrain you a little while we put you in the evaluation rooms. It's the same for any division of Null Village."

"Mm. Of course." Dark Matter could sense the other Pokémon closing in. Ten total. These scouts were competent but they didn't recognize his spirit yet. Only a matter of time. Dark Matter smirked. "You never really let up, do you?" And then he chuckled a hollow laugh. He made a motion to go for a playful nudge, but Gabite immediately backed away and snarled.

"I said don't try anything," she said.

Clever vermin. "Sorry," Dark Matter replied, and then kept his arms in the air again.

Anam was getting closer. He didn't have time for this. But an uproar would bring Anam right to him.

"Let's go," Gabite said.

Dark Matter sighed and stepped along, and several Pokémon that had been hidden in darkness revealed themselves.

This was becoming too annoying to bear. Time for a distraction.

He glanced left.

A Void Shadow shrieked, and all the scouts turned toward it in an instant. For that precious second, nobody was watching Dark Matter.

He reached toward Gabite and touched her shoulder. She looked at it in annoyed surprise, glared at Dark Matter, and suddenly her eyes were vacant. In another second, she was looking at the Void Shadow, which fled, while Dark Matter tapped his tail on a nearby Leafeon. Then, by mere luck, one of the hastier Pokémon, a Frosmoth, brushed against his arm.

Three. That would do.

"It ran off," Gabite said under Dark Matter's silent orders. "Everyone, close in. We should be more careful about this, and Goodra isn't much of a threat."

Dark Matter played along, speaking to himself. "Oh, not a threat. Bold from someone not even fully evolved."

"Watch what you say," warned a Mightyena, snarling. "Don't make me have to use these claws on—" He tapped a paw aggressively on Dark Matter's side. There was a flash of horror in his eyes, that fleeting second of control, and then he grunted. "Ugh, now I've got slime on me."

The other guards cautiously advanced forward, occasionally bumping into Dark Matter in the same way with little coincidences that he took full advantage of. But soon, he sensed a new pair from far ahead—and they were a lot stronger.

His core rumbled. Darkrai and Cresselia, the king of nightmares and the queen of dreams. Those two were not ones that he wanted to deal with right now. Even worse, he felt a few of the spirits within him revolting more strongly than usual. That could only mean the vessel was getting closer.

Two choices. Press on, attempt to kill the troublesome ones, and then flee… or flee immediately, and risk pursuit by three of them.

Patience was a virtue, and Dark Matter knew that virtue was something he was frequently short on. Perhaps he could claim one of them…

One of the scouts to his left moved oddly. Hadn't he already claimed that one? Yet there he was, trying to resist. His paw moved against Dark Matter's command, and even when Dark Matter tried to force the guard down, he did not listen. The other, unclaimed scouts looked at him oddly.

Something prickled at Dark Matter's core, like a desert sun's heat. That purifying light was no doubt from Madeline, the feeble soul he'd defeated long ago, yet could not totally claim thanks to that annoying light dragon.

And then came the Legends, first with the bigger threat. Those lunar, pink wings and that strange, crescent head mocked him. And behind her, the hazy, skittish ghost who feared his own power. Even after all this time, they were still together? Quaint.

"Hello," Dark Matter greeted. "I am here to visit your vil—"

Cresselia wordlessly fired a sphere of pink energy, and Dark Matter retaliated with a blast of darkness that neutralized the strike. That blast ate away at his shadows—that was no normal Moonblast, because of course it wasn't, coming from Cresselia—and struck a tree behind him, carving a perfect hole through its large trunk.

Why is she so strong?!

Change of plans. Running it was.

Dark Matter grabbed Gabite by the neck—she did not resist—and hurled her at Cresselia and Darkrai. The latter swooped down and tried to catch her with a startled yelp, but the former fired another Moonblast toward Dark Matter. Instead, he silently commanded two more of the guards to get in the way.

But instead of obliterating them, the Moonblast washed over their bodies, and suddenly they collapsed, gasping for air like they'd been plunged into a deep lake. They were trembling—but more importantly, Dark Matter couldn't send commands to them any longer.

She has Necrozma's light?! That isn't— Dark Matter seethed even more, so distracted with rage that he didn't notice the Dragon Pulse to his right. It blew him off course and through a tree, which collapsed over him. He roared and slammed his fist into the darkened wood, disintegrating it within seconds.

"Sorry!" Anam cried. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard!"

Dark Matter flung an explosive wad of shadows at Anam; the Goodra made no effort to dodge. Instead, he caught it, and the ball didn't detonate.

"I hate you."

"Stop running!" Anam begged. "What are you even trying to do?!"

"You know precisely what. I will gather my power. I will reclaim the Voidlands. And then I will claim everything."

"But that wasn't what you wanted!"

"Now it is."

Cresselia was getting closer and Dark Matter didn't know what more he could do. The guards were all fighting for control again. They had only recently been converted; they could bounce back if disturbed enough.

Still, they were useful for other things.

Dark Matter grasped the Leafeon by the paw and dug his other hand into its side. He whimpered, but that was all as his body dissolved into a shapeless Void Shadow.

Anam was faster. Even from afar, he felt something tug at the inside of his chest, and from within, something was trying to beat its way out of him. The two combined forces—

Dark Matter roared in pain and fell back. Two spirits left him, leaving a deep gash in his chest that rapidly closed before any more could escape. He could feel that tug again, but the spirits that remained were too weak and dormant to fight back.

The two that left—he had a good guess. He could no longer hear that stern, nagging voice of Anam's mother, for one…

"That won't be enough," Dark Matter grunted, tossing the Void Shadow he had left at Anam. Just like before, the hero foolishly spread out his arms to catch it, as if he had a chance to save the creature, but that was the trap. Without him to advise Anam about deception, he was as naïve and trusting as ever when he had to think fast.

Cresselia tried to regroup with Darkrai, but the Void Shadow exploded, sending a massive, black shockwave out in all directions. Anam yelped; Cresselia and Darkrai floated back; Dark Matter rolled to his front and shifted his form into a Luxray.

Sprinting through the forest, Dark Matter felt his stamina waning. Just being near one of the trio of light was enough to fatigue him. Where was Celebi, then? Guarding Necrozma still, surely… Just his luck to run into the other purifying force.

He would get them later.

Anam wasn't giving chase; in fact, it felt like he was going in the direction the spirits called southeast. Where would—

Yes, another city. Null Village was a collective; it had key strongholds in the cardinal directions away from Cipher City. Then that meant Anam was going toward East Null Village.

Alerting them?

Perhaps he was more clever than Dark Matter had given him credit for. Running ahead instead of fighting a futile battle now that he got his parents back? Or was that just a happy coincidence for him? He did not sense any malice from Anam, so there was no telling.

Fine, then, Dark Matter thought, growling as he stopped his run. Get your head start and warn the village. See what good it does you…

He tapped his paw on a tree and annihilated it. Settling in the hole where the roots had once been, he curled up and focused on the red core within his chest, siphoning energy from the dust nearby.

You are still in my domain. I'll reclaim it all in time…


Amia's room was filled with constellations and wave-like decorations over the walls, most of them pink and violet. Though, most of it wasn't in use, as Amia's cage, where she was contained, occupied the far corner of the room, furthest from the exit. It was a clear, element-resistant box with a firm lock and a strange, digital interface on one side.

Owen sat in front of this cage, staring at the Void Shadow within as it jiggled and angrily blasted in Owen's direction. The shadows struck the clear wall and dissipated uselessly, and eventually, it got tired and huddled in the furthest corner of her cage. It wasn't very far—it was only ten or so of Owen's paces on the long end, and perhaps seven on the short side.

Hakk had mentioned that Void Shadows didn't really need a whole lot of space, but it was too cruel to Owen. They had bigger boxes, right? And why not just let her explore the room on her own? There wasn't any way out of there once the door was locked anyway.

"They should really let you out," Owen said, smiling. "But, I can't really do that. I mean, I could try, but the lock…" He gestured to the digital interface, which Owen didn't know the first thing about. Buttons and numbers and letters. "And they'd probably be mad at me, y'know?"

The Void Shadow didn't respond to Owen. He didn't even know if it was looking at him—it had no eyes, or a face for that matter.

"S-so, are you hungry?" Owen asked.

No reply, of course, but maybe she was just grumpy, or the glass seal made things hard to hear. That was fine. Amia would tell him if she needed anything, after all.

The Void Shadow slid a little closer to the wall separating them and Owen eagerly leaned forward.

"Hey, Mom," he said, laughing a little. "I, uh, can you hear me?"

No reply, but it kept sliding closer.

"So," Owen went on, "do you want—"

It slammed hard against the wall, spattering, but then recoiled and tried again. Owen flinched and fell back on reflex, wincing when his tail bent oddly, and righted himself.

He laughed awkwardly, desperately, and tried to wave off the successive blasts that the Void Shadow volleyed. When it finally settled down and retreated into the other corner, Owen shakily repositioned himself to face the wall again.

"Y-you're still in there, right?" Owen asked. No reply. "I know it's you—I feel it, it's you. It's still you, Mom. E-even if maybe you don't totally remember right now, you will one day, s-so that's why I'm still treating you no-normally."

Why did his chest feel so tight? His eyes were hot. He couldn't keep himself composed, why was that? Amia was the one who was scared and confused, he was the one who was supposed to keep it together! He wasn't helping things!

"A-and Dad, he'll be happy to see you're alright and back wi-with me, too," Owen said, hands clenching over his knees. "Dad… that's right, huh? I ne-never asked you how you two met, or anything like that. The real story, I m-mean. I guess maybe one day you can tell me. After this is all… all over."

Once again, the Void Shadow did not respond, though it also didn't attack. She was probably recognizing him. Memories always came back that way. Or maybe she was tired and didn't want to express herself and extend even more energy. If she didn't need to eat, maybe she had to generate her own energy slowly. That was probably it…

Talons on tile echoed in the room. Owen didn't recognize the pace's pattern at first and had to look back, finally breaking his stare at the cage.

Jerry?

"Hey," the Aerodactyl said.

Owen grimaced, but tried to hide it. He went back to staring at the cage, but now with company that was surely going to tell him to do something useful. Jerry never cared about how he was feeling, only survival. Well, he survived; he had the right to feel, didn't he?

Jerry didn't even care that he'd accidentally poisoned his own mother. Shrugged it off like everything else and told him to get moving.

His tail crackled again, but Owen had no intention of hiding it, even as Jerry stepped toward him. Footsteps got louder.

If he had been faster, if Jerry hadn't tried to fly them away. They would have been rescued a few minutes earlier. And those extra minutes could have gotten to Amia. And then none of this would have happened. Amia would have been a frightened, disoriented Ralts being taken care of in this very room, and they would have been chatting, and laughing, and maybe even hugging because of course they would, she was scared, and he was probably stronger than her now.

But none of that could happen now.

All because of—

"Whatever you want," Jerry said. "I'll get it. Just say the word."

It was so startlingly unexpected that Owen had to look back on reflex.

Jerry's eyes were locked on the ground like he was in pain, but it wasn't his pride like Owen would have expected. There was something more…

"What?" Owen asked.

"You're staying here, right?"

"I am." Owen's words were firm.

"Then I'll get what you want. I'll bring it here."

"…Why?" The word fell from his mouth like water.

The Aerodactyl's wing-claws squeezed into their palms. He folded them over his chest, and Owen had never seen him look so vulnerable, even if it had been for an instant. And then he was back to standing straight.

"While you were away, we went on a tour around town. You haven't eaten yet, right? I'll buy you something."

"I don't need anything from—"

"Pick something."

"Maybe I don't want to," Owen snarled.

"…Then I'm gonna get something light for you," Jerry said, turning back. "Fish, or veggies? Both? Starch?"

Owen's tail crackled again, and Jerry didn't move. And he still didn't move, and why didn't he? Was he really going to impose he eat, again?

Owen did his best to stare down Jerry, even though he had to look up to do it. He was several paces away, and Jerry looked annoyed. Gritted teeth, tense posture… Yet he didn't say anything back.

Anything to get him away. "Mostly veggies," Owen growled.

"Alright."

And without another word, Jerry turned and left.

That hollow feeling was back, cold in a way a Fire should never have to feel. Jerry was steps away from leaving the room.

"And—and thank you," Owen stuttered out. "Sorry."

Jerry didn't stop, but he did reply with a dismissive, "Mm," as he left.

A dull thunk from behind reminded Owen that the Void Shadow was still there. He wondered if he should go after Jerry and help pick something out… but he still felt stuck in place.

Turning around, Owen sat down and watched the Void Shadow again, wondering why Jerry, of all people, had offered him anything.


With how quiet it had been, the subtle, grinding noise of scales on tile echoed over the smooth walls. He recognized that sound, so he wasn't surprised when he glanced back to see Zena.

"Is this a bad time?" Zena asked.

"No," Owen said, but it was suddenly a lot harder to keep himself composed. Even worse when she got closer; he locked his gaze onto Amia instead.

"I'm sorry if you wanted to be left alone," Zena added. "It's really okay if you'd prefer if…"

Owen wasn't really sure what he wanted, so he shook his head.

"Oh, then I'll go," Zena said apologetically.

"No, I—" Well, that answered that. "It's okay."

So, she stayed. She wasn't as close as usual, and that perplexed Owen a little, but he wasn't in the mindset to ask why. Maybe she thought distance would have helped… A small part of him wanted to be closer, but another part feared that it would be the last thing keeping him from bawling. Was that bad? Was that good? What was he supposed to be feeling?

It all felt so numb. He didn't remember how he had gotten into this room in the first place.

"I'm glad you're safe," Zena said gently. "And…"

She didn't finish, and Owen wasn't sure where she would have gone. Perhaps that everyone had come back in one piece, and that they had found Dialga. And that they found Amia, even if… Yes, that's probably why she didn't finish.

"Thank you," Owen said, relieving her from the silence. "Sorry if I'm not that talkative."

"No, it's okay. Really."

Owen was glued to his spot, but he wanted nothing more than to inch closer. Yet he couldn't. He looked down again. Even without his Perceive, he had a vague sense that something else was bothering Zena. He couldn't build up the energy to ask, and she was probably afraid to bring it up. Not like this.

What would Amia have told him to do?

His gaze trailed to the Void Shadow, which was now trying to dig through the glass on the opposite corner to no effect.

Amia would have told him to communicate, to talk it out. Owen vaguely remembered other fleeting friendships that he'd had with other Pokémon, some closer than others. All those lives, forgotten and erased. He wondered if Nevren had anything to do with his erasure from their minds, too, or if he was simply some mysterious Charmander of Kilo Village. He wouldn't be the only one, considering 'Deca' had wandered there, too…

Communicate. That's what she would have said to do. Mispy would have, too. And his father, he would have said to be thoughtful. Amber would have said to be strong. Daichi would have said to be sure of himself.

And sitting around doing nothing wasn't helping. "Are you okay?" Owen asked, breaking his stare from the cage to look at Zena's tail feathers.

"Me? You're asking me?" Zena asked.

"Yeah, you, um, sorry. You seemed a little off. Sorry. Maybe I'm projecting."

The way her feathery fan flexed suggested otherwise, but he didn't comment.

She coiled around herself for one extra revolution, resting her chin on her belly, and she still towered over him.

"No, you're right," Zena said.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, Owen, this isn't about me right now."

"It's okay. Please, tell me."

And then more silence, and he knew it was something uncomfortable. Considering what little Zena knew of everything right now, still recovering her memories, it didn't take much to deduce what she would be thinking about. It was probably about the Voidlands, about getting out. And he was thinking the same. They had to find a way back out. It was all so much, but there had to be some way to stop Dark Matter, right? Maybe if they found Anam, or regrouped with Rhys…

Finally, Zena spoke, "We only knew each other for a few moons?"

Okay, so he wasn't quite expecting that. "Er—yeah."

"Mm. I've, well, I've just been thinking about that," she said. "So little time yet I felt so attached to you."

"Yeah."

"I was wondering why. Not to you, to myself. It seems so unlike me, yet I felt it. And I'm—I know I was never a believer in love at first sight, and yet…"

Maybe this was why Zena didn't want to talk about it. Still, now that the topic came up…

"Oh, I'm sorry," Zena said, and Owen realized that he'd slackened his shoulders, or maybe his tail had dimmed. Curse his expressiveness.

"No, it's fine," Owen lied.

"It isn't. I should have waited to throw this at you, I—"

"It's fine," Owen hissed, and then suddenly he stopped himself. Eyes wide, his tail had crackled, and he quickly shook his head. "No, I didn't mean to… I'm sorry."

Zena flinched, but she settled down.

They fell into silence. The Void Shadow was trying the other corner, but the containment procedure was foolproof from the inside. Owen's tail was crackling horribly, and he had to focus on his breathing to calm it down. He could only imagine how Zena would interpret it.

"…I can't imagine how awful this must be for you," Zena said.

Owen blinked, stealing a glance at her prismatic scales. He couldn't look at her face.

"If there's anything you need, please, ask me." Her coils made an odd, rhythmic undulation, and she was a foot closer.

Owen's eyes felt hot. Relief squeezed his chest.

"I was lonely and desperate. Getting so attached to you, so suddenly, was a mistake. But… what I've seen in you now, Owen, I want to try again anyway. Properly. Because even with how I'd been, I think I might have gotten… lucky."

None of it made sense to Owen, so he just listened.

"If you feel the same," Zena added, barely a whisper.

Breathe, he had to breathe. To stay calm. Having an outburst now would confuse Zena. Forget that, it would confuse himself.

Slow, steady. Breathe.

"Right," Owen said, nodding. "I, yeah, that's right. That makes sense. Never… I never thought of it that way before."

"I wish I could have brought it up at a better time," Zena admitted.

And to that, Owen laughed, which was a mistake. Suddenly, he couldn't stop laughing, though most of it came out in chokes and sobs. His cheeks were wet and his tail blazed, and had he eaten anything recently—he hadn't—that might have been in danger of returning. Even Zena laughed, though hers was a nervous chuckle.

"It's never a good time with me anymore," Owen finally said, wiping his face with both hands. "Now you have me thinking about why I wound up with you back then. Maybe we were both desperate." He sniffled. "Guess that's one for the therapist. I bet they get a lot of demand here."

Zena giggled, shaking her head back. "I can't imagine."

The Void Shadow seemed to be glaring at them on the nearest wall, pressed firmly against it.

"Desperate… That's probably it," Owen admitted. "You were one of the first people to tell me everything, or everything they knew. You defended me when everyone else kept me in the dark. I know you don't remember that, but… I think that's why I cared so much about you. Or… or maybe I just felt that way when you told me the same. I wasn't really sure myself, in a way…" He scratched the back of his head, tittering. "I was still mostly mutant back then. I didn't really have a mind for love." And he had been incredibly dense, but he decided to omit that detail.

"From the start," Owen finally concluded, taking a sharp breath through his nostrils. He finally had the courage to face her. Red eyes stared back, hopeful, sincere, but calm. She wasn't worried about herself, only him, and what he'd gone through. In hindsight… that was so different from how they'd met. "As friends. My name's Charmander Owen… and I'm a Heart." He held out a tiny hand.

Zena's puzzled frown morphed into an amused smile. "And I'm Milotic Zena, er… Water Guardian, I suppose." She brought a ribbon forward, wrapping around his arm, and they shook.


The gloomy atmosphere of Null Village confused Jerry because of how familiar it felt. No, the technology was completely foreign to him, as was most of the architecture, yet something about the mannerisms of the Pokémon and the crystals in the wall…

Jerry sighed, shaking it off. It wasn't really important anyway; Pyrock Village was so far in the past. And even after so many days there, he didn't know how to process or reconcile it all. Maybe later, he'd be able to put it all to words…

Jerry had stopped by a restaurant that had a long line the last time he was there, and when he'd returned, it was even longer. Still, he had already promised Owen to get something with veggies, and this was the only restaurant that he knew of that did it well. And if there was any time that he wasn't going to skip out on something good for the idiot, it would be now.

During the agonizing wait, he had seen Hakk passing by, and Xypher had inquired—with a few caws—how Owen was doing. A little half-lie that he was resting had been enough to shoo him away. Hakk had been carrying a lot of berries on him, and it was odd to see him without Xypher, but Jerry hadn't paid it further mind.

Finally, he returned to the facility, where he passed by the Jynx at the front, who smiled at him. Jerry tried to find the energy to smile back, but he was so preoccupied with himself that it came out more like a twitch of his jaw. "How is he doing?" Jynx asked.

"Dunno. Got him food."

That was enough of an answer, and Jerry continued through with the bag clutched in his wing's claws.

At some point, Amia had become more like a centerpiece to idle chatter than the person they had been watching. A strange mixture of relief and cold envy filled Jerry's chest when he heard Owen laugh weakly at something Zena said.

Jerry stopped and listened for a little while, realizing that he hadn't gotten anything for Zena. Sure, she hadn't been there when he had asked, but she better not complain. They were talking about Voidland berries and edible bark, and Owen wondered if Demitri would try to cook the bark for any dishes.

Jerry sighed, making himself known, and stepped into the room.

"Oh, Jerry," Zena greeted, nodding at him.

"Didn't get you anything," Jerry said, his wing-claws grasping at the paper bag that had two packages inside, one much larger than the other.

"That's alright," Zena said. "I'd eaten before I—oh, Owen! Did you… have you eaten at all?"

"Er, no." Owen shrank down, and Jerry placed a paper box in front of Owen, along with two small, wooden sticks. "Was distracted."

Owen was staring at the bag, and then up at Jerry, and he knew why. The Charmander's eyes said it all. Why was Jerry being so nice? Because of course Owen would try to pry into things that he had no right to know. As much as Owen hated people telling him to do things, he still folded and followed; and as much as Owen didn't like everyone getting in his head, he was still open and it was like he expected everyone else to be the same. Brat.

"Um," Owen started, "are you feeling alright, by the way?"

Jerry flinched and looked left.

At the same time, he didn't understand why he had gone out of his way to help Owen, either. But seeing that Void Shadow there—so weak and a shell of what she used to be… Jerry's spiteful thoughts were just a little whisper. All he could remember seeing was how broken Owen had appeared, and…

Well, look at him now. He was perfectly fine. All he needed was a little support, and suddenly everything was better.

"I get it," Jerry said, like it was an answer.

"You… get it?" Zena repeated.

Jerry looked at the Void Shadow in the clear cage, which was now back to butting against the back-left corner.

"Yeah," he said. "But… whatever." He spun around with his package of food. "Take it easy, alright?" He didn't want to be there.

And without another word, Jerry left the two alone with the Void Shadow. Beneath the savory flavor of the fried vegetables and noodles, there was a hint of warm bitterness.


Author's note: Hey all, thanks for reading as always! I will be taking four weeks rather than two weeks to get the next part out. Incoming: the next Special Episode! This one is a doozy and I'm trying to get it just right, and it has a chance of being my longest one yet. I'm trying to keep these chapters in check in terms of length, but there was simply a lot to cover and a lot of heavy subject matter that I want to handle just right without getting too deep into it.

In the meantime, maybe keep an eye on my profile for another story that I've been working on, back before the Legends disappeared.

Also on my profile, you can find an invite link to the Hands of Creation discord. Check it out if you're interested! And as usual, comments and reviews are always appreciated so I know what my readers are thinking.

In any case, October 25th will be the launch date for Special Episode 7, "The Last Southern King," which will focus entirely on Jerry.