Chapter 116 – Call of the Void

Owen had a few reasons for going to the bathhouse that Zena worked. For one, he wanted to see what kind of lives Pokémon had in Null Village properly, now that he was out of the evaluation room. Along with that, he wasn't sure if Zena was tolerating possible mistreatment at work; something about the place gave him a bad feeling, just from how she'd talked about it at home. If he could help her see that, or at least ease the burden if he worked with her, perhaps that would be enough. And lastly, he needed to clear his head someplace that wasn't right by his reduced shell of a mother.

The bathhouse was further down the road, along a street that still had small signs of that battle in the skies between Migami and Aster. That felt like such a short time ago, and Owen reminded himself that he had been dormant for longer than he remembered.

Plumes of steam constantly blew out from the bathhouse, which was blocked off by a thin curtain. Owen wondered, if the facility they were in had baths and wash areas, did some homes not? Or was this more of a communal thing? As Owen's mind wandered, they headed inside, where a Carnivine with a kind smile and seething eyes greeted them.

"Ah, Zena!" Carnivine greeted with a saccharine bite. "You're here earlier than expected!"

"Yes, I'm sorry for calling late," she said. "I was able to finish what I had to do early. I can take up my shift now."

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Carnivine brought his leafy arms together.

Something about this Pokémon made Owen's feathers rise defensively.

"Well, and who is this? The one you need to guard?"

"Yes. I'm sorry if it's a bother."

"He is… a bit odd looking. I've never seen a Pokémon like him before."

"I'm a southern Charmander."

"Oh! My apologies." Carnivine bowed his massive head, his whole body floating up and down with the momentum. "Well, it's a bit unorthodox, but if he'd like to help sort towels and assist with cleaning, I'd be happy to pay him for the day."

"I can do that," Owen agreed, wanting to give Zena as little trouble as possible.

"Good, good! Then, Zena, why don't you get ready? I'd like to talk with you before you start working."

For a fraction of a second, Owen felt a pang of fear from Zena. He wasn't sure how he knew that. The way she tensed, perhaps? But then it was gone, and she steeled herself.

"Yes," Zena said, "of course. Owen?"

"Right that way," Carnivine said, gesturing to the left, in an area that had a misty sign that said 'Employees Only.'

Zena followed Carnivine across the hall to the other side, into her office. As she passed, a few patrons stared at her, and one asked a receptionist at the front when she was going to be available. Available, for what? Just to tend to the baths?

Zena slithered around one of the early customers, giving him a stiff smile. The customer returned it with a hungry grin, passing by much slower, taking up part of the hall. Zena had to squeeze by, and he apologized for taking up all the space, but the Nidoking was smirking. The back of Owen's head felt hot, feathers puffing out, but Zena glanced at Owen—like she knew—and shook her head placatingly.

He held his breath. One, two, three. An old mutant instinct told him ways to attack. Four, five, six. But he knew he shouldn't do that.

Clearing his mind, Owen hesitantly made his way through the halls on the opposite end, careful not to get stepped on. Navigating the way through the employee only area was easy enough, and soon he found his way to the laundry room, where towels upon towels waited to be loaded up for washing. He'd never seen so many in one place, and some of them looked filthy, purple and red with void dust. Maybe that was why Pokémon went here—so they didn't have to spend the time cleaning it themselves.

A Gardevoir passed by Owen and his heart leapt in his throat. On reflex, he looked up, but saw that she had green hair, and a different face, and he winced, feeling like an idiot to even consider it. She was at home, in a cage. She was gone.

"Oh, sorry, kid—wait. What're you doing here?" The Gardevoir's voice was harsh and she leaned over. "Can't you read?"

"I-I'm not a kid," Owen said.

"Look like one. Even the ones who died don't look young like you."

"Well, I'm not. I'm a Charmander."

Gardevoir looked his leafy body over, then rolled her eyes. "If it makes you feel better." She turned and headed down the hall. "What, you a new hire?"

"For the day. I'm here with Zena. We're courting."

"Oh, her." Gardevoir grunted. A Lopunny, Braixen, and Vaporeon giggled with one another.

"What?" Owen asked.

"Nothing. She's just new. To the Voidlands, too, obviously." Lopunny sighed, shaking out void dust from a crumpled towel before tossing it to a tub in front of Vaporeon, who washed it down with a jet of water.

"She is. We came here only a few weeks ago."

"Mmhm. She thinks she's above it all, but we'll see how that lasts." Gardevoir twisted one of the washed towels with Psychic energy before lobbing it next to Vaporeon for another cycle.

"Above it all?" Owen repeated.

"Are you just gonna stand there? Help out!" Vaporeon growled.

"S-sorry! Where, what, is there a place to—uff!"

A pile of towels covered Owen in several layers. Once he struggled his way back out, he saw Braixen standing in front of him, tapping a blackened, wooden stick on her arm. "Fold those. Just got done drying it off."

Owen shuffled to a free spot in the laundry room, which was starting to feel cramped even for his size, as Braixen started to load up more damp towels from the basin.

After getting into a decent rhythm with folding towels several times his size, Owen went on to ask, "What's wrong with Zena?"

"Oh, sweetheart." Gardevoir hummed. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm not gonna say your girlfriend is some horrible person. She just needs time to fit in, that's all. Milotic from the living world are always like that, y'know. Prim and proper and elegant because that's how they need to be. But here in the Voidlands, white scales don't last."

"I don't understand. Do you mean that this, the, uh, the way everything is so harsh here, you're saying it'll… change her?"

"That's how the world works, child," Vaporeon said.

"I'm not—" Owen stopped. "I get it. Okay."

"Still, she's getting us some extra profit, so that's nice," commented Braixen, slapping another damp towel on the pile before frowning at the next one, tossing it back into the tub. Vaporeon scowled, like she was offended her cleaning wasn't good enough.

"Extra profit?"

"Oh, easily. Milotic like her?" Gardevoir twisted another towel and tossed it over Vaporeon's head. "Sure, they don't last all that long, but that elegance is a rare sight. People have been paying just to have a look at her, not that she reciprocates. A shame. We'd probably get more if she did. But that's part of the purity act, I guess."

Owen's stomach twisted in knots. He stopped folding briefly, but Braixen slapped his head with her stick and he quickly continued. "Isn't this just a bathhouse?"

"Here's the thing, Charmander, yeah, this is a bathhouse, but it's the sort that people come here just to wash up and get some company, you know?" Braixen sighed. "Not sure if you noticed, but the boss has a certain taste in who he hires. Hmph, and apparently Milotic is getting paid more than me and she just started…"

"I see…"

"What?" Braixen growled. "Don't get judgmental on us, here."

"No, I'm not! I—it's just not something I think Zena would—er, I mean, Milotic would be interested in."

"The money probably got her interested," Braixen said. "If she just got here, she's probably desperate to get some kind of established home and shelter."

"Heh, that's how they get ya." Gardevoir shrugged. "It's not that bad of a job, when you get down to it. We've got protections. And if any of the guests decide they want more than they paid for, the girls here know how to rough someone up."

Braixen and Vaporeon both smirked.

"Next load!" Lopunny grunted, tossing another pile of towels near Vaporeon. "Watch out for that top one. A very fine guest used it."

"Oh, gods," Vaporeon groaned, "please don't tell me it was the Skuntank."

"Okay, I won't." Lopunny left again.

The conversation died away, the smell of that towel too distracting for anything else. Owen got into a calming routine with his folding to help distract himself until that smell went away, and he felt almost meditative. He could think about other things. Zena and what she was doing worried him… but he could see how she felt about it when they were home. She agreed to him coming for a reason. Maybe she wanted a second opinion?

A stray thought crossed his mind and he tried to concentrate, folding blindly.

Are you there? He waited for a response.

Silence at first, and he moved onto a second towel, then a third.

Owen? replied a familiar voice.

He smiled. Hey. Sorry if you've been in silence for a while.

Oh, it's all right, Klent said. We were resting.

How's Amelia?

She's fine. We're… vaguely aware of what you've been through. The memories are coming to me now. How awful…

Yeah… But it's not so bad. I think we're going to defeat him soon.

Mm.

That was an odd response. Something wrong with that?

I'd ask you the same. You sound conflicted about it, and there's no hiding that from me, you know.

Right. Klent, Amelia, all the other spirits must have felt what he felt, no matter where he was. I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Owen said. I don't want to slip back into following what everyone else wants, but now that I can actually try to make a choice, I'm… lost. M-maybe Dark Matter was right about that. Maybe I'm just… built to follow directions.

Now, Owen, that's not—

No, I'm not gonna do that, Owen replied quickly. He's right. That is how I'm built. But I need to move past that. I need to… make choices for myself. I just don't know what yet…

I see… And were you asking for opinions? Not choices, just opinions.

The way Klent spoke so delicately… He was trying not to press. Trying to give Owen the opportunity to choose for himself. It was patronizing… but he appreciated it anyway.

What do you think? Owen asked.

I think no matter what alliance you may have had with him, Dark Matter lost his way, Klent said. You surely don't want Kilo destroyed. And you surely don't want some eternal darkness, either. If you can choose to fight against it…

I don't want that, Owen agreed. I just wonder if…

Klent didn't answer. Owen felt a new presence bubbling up—Amelia, this time. You're trying to save Dark Matter, huh? Just like Anam?

It sounded silly when it was told back to him. Yeah.

Well, we want to help, but you gotta figure out how to do that, first. He's kinda bent on world destruction right now.

Right. He sighed. I'm thinking about ways to help, but I have no idea. I have a backup plan if he really does try to kill me, or something, but… I don't want to give that away so soon.

Yeah, we won't tell, Amelia assured dismissively. But I'm more worried about what everyone else will think if you went off to see him alone.

Yeah… Owen sighed.

"Hey, you okay?" Vaporeon asked.

"Huh?!" Owen had forgotten he was working. "Y-yeah, sorry."

"Look, if you're worried about Milotic, don't be. She's probably got some toughness in her. We all know what happened by that big tree and how she fended off that weird guy! Word spreads fast, y'know."

"That weird guy," Owen said. "You mean Dark Matter."

"Pbbbt, sure." Vaporeon laughed. "Good one. I mean, with how creepy he was, he may as well have been."

Maybe it was better they didn't know.

Braixen cursed and slammed her stick on a strange machine in the corner of the room.

"S-something wrong?" Owen asked nervously.

"It's this blasted—look. My fire power is good, but I use a fire crystal for a conduit to keep the distribution even. See?" She opened a lid on the side of the machine, revealing a red crystal under the top of the machine with the symbol of an ember in the middle. "Keeps it controlled. But it's starting to go out, but Boss doesn't want to replace it, saying it still works. I'm tempted to break it myself, but…" She sighed. "Then we'll go without a regulator and that's no good."

"Can I take a look?" Owen offered.

"What're you gonna do?" Braixen asked skeptically.

He stepped away from his folded towels and climbed into the chamber.

"Hey, careful," Braixen said. "Those things can get kinda volatile if you mess with them."

"I know. I'm… a crystal technician before I died, or something kind of like it." He tapped at the symbol, thoughtful. "Yeah, I think I see what's wrong with it."

"Really? Just like that?" Braixen asked, trying to look inside, but Owen shooed her off, muttering something about concentrating. She scowled and turned away.

The coast clear, Owen channeled some energy into the crystal. Not enough to fully power it, but enough to make it more like those inert ones in the wall. Then, he pulled back. "Okay. It's fixed. But I can tell you now, it won't last longer than a few more moons—uh, months. You'll have to get a replacement soon or it might start a real fire."

"Tell Boss that," Braixen dismissed, but then tapped her stick on the machine skeptically. She tossed a few towels in, pressed her stick again, and the machine hummed satisfyingly. She gasped. "I don't believe it! It's practically good as new!"

The light in her eyes made it impossible for Owen to hide his smile.

"Oh, I—thank you!" She beamed. "This'll make things so much easier."

"He-hey, can you fix this one, too?" Vaporeon pointed at the basin. "I dry out like five times faster without the crystal helping me, and it's totally busted."

Owen did the same process as before, channeling a tiny bit of energy into the crystal when they weren't looking. When Owen hopped out, the tub itself filled automatically with crystal-clear water. Vaporeon, thrilled, looked like she had half a mind to hop inside.

"Well, look at that. We've got ourselves a repairman on the job." Gardevoir giggled, and it reminded Owen of Amia briefly. He glanced away, hiding a grimace.

"Really, though, thanks," Vaporeon said. "Guess Milotic got lucky with you after all."

"H-ha, yeah…"

"A shame," Braixen hummed. "Wouldn't mind someone like you around the house."

"Uh."

"What's going on in here?" Carnivine called, floating into the room.

"Looks like your one-day employee is a repairman." Gardevoir gestured to Owen. "Fixed up the crystals!"

"Really?" He looked down at Owen, his massive jaws twisting into something of a pensive stare. "How about that."

"You should replace them soon before they get volatile," Owen said, and it was only a half-lie. He wouldn't be around to replenish them again. "You have maybe a month before it's too risky."

There was a disinterested light in Carnivine's eyes, but he nodded amicably. "Of course, of course," he said. "Thank you, Charmander. Now, about Milotic…"

"Yeah?"

"I want to know why she was off galivanting with you this morning. Now, I know that you've recently passed and are probably thrilled you were able to stay together even in the Voidlands, but that's no excuse to shirk work!"

And this is my problem, slimeball? Owen thought.

This guy reeks of bad news, Amelia commented, and Owen didn't realize he'd left that connection open. No, he liked this.

"Yeah," Owen said. "She was doing something important. It's a classified assignment."

"Classified? Classified how? She doesn't seem like someone too important."

Owen's feathers puffed out.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Of course, to you, she's important." He wrapped his leafy arms together pacifyingly, radiating a false smile. "But I meant in terms of… to Null Village."

"She and I work with Marshadow and others at his rank," he said. "I'm one of the lead crystal technicians in the village," he continued, a total lie. Probably. "But I also have some authority besides that. For example, I was part of the rescue operation for Dialga and Palkia."

That caught Carnivine's attention. Suddenly, he seemed nervous. "Well, what're you doing here, then?"

"Mission finished early. Nothing for you to worry about."

"Y'know, forgive me for asking," Carnivine added a little hastily, "but how is someone as weak-looking as you part of a rescue operation for a lost Legend?"

"Want to find out?" Owen asked.

"I, uh, you, uh, what?" Carnivine sputtered. "How would you… prove that?"

"That tree in the middle of town."

"The one that messed up the sewage system for a little while? Yeah, I know it."

"That's warding off Dark Matter as we speak. It's filled with the same energy that makes up those crystals, but as a constant aura. It gave this village the sky back."

"Yeah, that… that was nice, but what's that got to do with you?"

"I made it."

"Hah!" Carnivine instantly relaxed. "And here I thought you were actually someone to worry about! Well! Sure, kid. You created the second Tree of Life. Why not? Next, you're gonna tell me you're Necrozma's disciple, just like Elite Mhynt!"

Owen clicked his tongue, then walked toward the room's exit, gesturing for Carnivine to follow. Maybe this show of power would be useful. As far as Owen was concerned, everyone who he didn't want to know he was here—Alexander, Mhynt, and Dark Matter—already knew. There was no harm in letting more people know. He suspected that Mhynt and her team would return to take the Tree somehow, and he couldn't have that. Drawing attention away from the Tree and spreading rumors that he was back again… Yes. This would be a good thing.

Geez, Owen, how many steps ahead are you thinking here? Amelia asked.

Even if we can beat Dark Matter, Owen replied, it's Alexander I'm worried about. And we can't have him harming the Tree. If he wants me, I want him to think I'm not in it.

They made it outside. He had a small audience, and on the way, he asked if Vaporeon or the others had a lunch that had a fruit or a berry to work with. There was, as it turned out, a spare Oran that he could work with. That would do.

He made a small hole a few feet away from the bathhouse. By the time he was done, his claws covered in purple soil, Zena had emerged from the bathhouse to observe with several patrons. They must have followed Zena, though their attention had peeled away from her and toward the strange, green Charmander playing in the dirt.

"Why're we all watching this?" asked one, frowning.

"He's apparently going to do some kind of magic trick."

"No, he made the Tree of Life in town."

"That kid? Please."

"I mean, have you seen him around?"

Owen perked up. "Zena!" He grinned, waving.

Zena flinched; all eyes turned to her. Owen gestured for her to come closer and she did, quickly.

"Owen, what are you doing?" Zena whispered. "We were supposed to keep ourselves quiet."

"That won't work," Owen explained. "Everyone who wanted to know where I am already knows. I need to get their attention so they don't hurt the Tree."

"What? Why? What's so important about it?"

"The town likes it."

Zena squinted, but then sighed. "You'll tell me later."

Good, she understood. Owen gestured to the soil. "Can you put some water over this?" he asked once he put the Oran inside and filled it with dirt again.

"Any special kind?" Zena hummed, a faint glow coursing through her scales.

"Yeah. Put on a show."

Zena frowned pensively. "What is this for?"

"I have an idea on how to get you out of here, if you want."

Murmurs around them… "Is she glowing?"

"I knew Milotic were radiant, but I didn't think that was literal…"

"Can I touch her scales?"

"Careful, she froze the last guy who tried…"

Owen glanced at the patron who said that, then glanced at Zena with a quirked, feathery brow. Zena tittered in response, but Owen only smiled, proud.

Damp soil and an Oran in the ground, Owen placed his hands on the dirt and closed his eyes. By now, the performance had garnered attention from several others in the streets, even nearby buildings. Crowds formed and a few guards came to check if a fight had broken out, only to get caught up in the same curiosity.

When Owen channeled this energy—both of Grass and of Radiance—he felt a little closer to the spirits he housed. A little closer to Necrozma. Taking advantage of the last time he'd done something like this, he tried to reach out.

Are you there? Necrozma? Can you hear me?

He didn't really think it would work, that he would get a reply.

Whenever you're able to, I want to talk to you. It's about Dark Matter. I know what he said is true, so I want to hear what you have to say back. The part of me aligning with him. I don't know why I can't remember that, and I think you do. Talk to me when you can. Okay?

No reply. Owen opened his eyes; before him was an Oran bush several times his height. The leaves glowed a brilliant, prismatic color, like the back of a Technical Machine, or Zena's scales under the sunlight. The rainbow, pastel-like colors reminded Owen of Fae, Fae Forest, back when they'd rescued Willow. And within the bush, dotting the branches generously, were several Oran Berries that had a soft glow to them. Owen recognized them immediately as enchanted, the same way Anam could.

So, he really did have that same power. Dormant all this time, awakened only after he remembered…

Owen's gaze trailed to the Tree that towered over Null Village, aware of the gawking crowd only moments after. "Uh, here's your berry back, um, Vaporeon." Owen picked one and handed it to her, though she was too stunned to say her thanks when she took it. "Is it time for our lunch break?" Owen asked Carnivine.

"Wh, uh, sure. Yeah. Uh. Yeah. S-so you really are with that authority, then? The… with Marshadow, and rescuing Dialga and Palkia."

Owen nodded. "Why? Is that a problem?"

"Well, no, no, not a problem at all! But I must ask, er, what were you concerned with regarding, regarding your, with your, the stay, with—my establishment?"

"Yeah, I did," Owen said with a thoughtful nod. "I think you should consider how you treat your employees. You wouldn't want an inspection to find anything questionable, would you?"

"Of, of course! I take wonderful care of my employees!"

Owen made a glance at Vaporeon, Braixen, and Lopunny. All three shrugged and nodded. Owen hummed, then looked at Zena. "I guess that's all for this berry bush. Take care of it, alright? Those berries are strong."

"There is something different about it," Vaporeon admitted. "What… is it?"

Owen picked a few. "Something that I think would be good to give to the guards once I grow more. I have enough energy to do that a few times a day… Zena, want to get lunch together?"

"Oh!" Zena nodded. "Yes, if I can take my lunch with him…"

Carnivine didn't object. Perhaps he was afraid to.

"I'm going to go around town." He glanced at one of the guards. "I need to head back to see Marshadow. Can you take me there?"

"Er, well, I'm not sure where he is…"

"The evaluation building is fine." With that out of the way, he nodded at Zena and smiled. "Then, after work, we can have dinner together. How's that sound?"

Zena's coworkers all gave her mock-swooning gestures, to which she smiled and rolled her eyes. "I would love to."


"Did I ever tell you that I've never actually been to Void Basin?"

For some reason, Leo was a lot more talkative than usual. Spice tried to ignore the Delphox's ramblings, but with only herself and a few other squads for company—all spread out to cover more investigative ground—there wasn't much else to catch her attention. There was, of course, the odd, black blobs that had spawned from the many-eyed leviathan guarding Kilo Village, but she didn't like thinking about them, even as one followed their team.

So, the Salazzle relented and asked, "Is it because of the official restrictions?"

"Well, yes, but even when the Kingdom was still functional, it was forbidden, right?"

"Yeah. Though, I visited it all the time."

"You did?! Then the rumors were false? They say that Pokémon who come here… go mad!"

"Sometimes they did. But I didn't." Spice shrugged. "And that Aerodactyl outlaw, Jerry? He didn't, either."

"Right, outlaw…" Leo's ears drooped. "How far that family had fallen…"

"House of cards," Spice said dismissively. "I won't get into details, but behind the scenes, they didn't have a happy relationship."

"I see…" Leo shifted uncomfortably, and Spice knew why. They didn't talk about it often, but Leo knew full well that she and Jerry used to be friends. Possibly more, had they gone different paths… had Jerry not fallen into his criminal lifestyle. Had she not assimilated into the rest of Kilo's empire the way most of the Kingdom did.

But that was the past, so she shoved past it with a new topic. "You're feeling alright, then?"

"So far."

"And your wounds?"

"Oh, those are practically gone." Leo patted his torso. "See? I don't even need bandages anymore. Still, those mutant injuries… certainly can make even blessed healing difficult. Now that we're short on those…"

Spice nodded. "A day in my life, huh?" With a smirk, she went on. "You know, I always wondered why."

"Hm?"

"Why blessings simply didn't work on me. Orans don't have that same effect. I have to be incredibly careful since Revivers don't, either."

"Well, it goes to show how strong you are despite that. I can't recall a single time where you'd been defeated in a Dungeon…"

Spice said nothing, glancing to her left, toward the ocean. The horizon was eternally black with the clouds of the Shadow Beast, as the town was calling it. Rhys claimed it was Lugia. She wasn't sure which was worse.

"You still haven't slept, have you?" Leo asked. Before Spice could growl back, he quickly amended, "I know, I know. I'm just asking. You've already proven that you're fine without sleep."

"Well, I haven't," Spice replied defensively. "Let's drop it."

"I will."

It had been weeks. Pokémon died without sleep for this long. She felt perfectly fine. It was starting to scare her.

"Mmbb…"

"Can I help you?" Spice snapped, glancing behind her to see the three-eyed blob trailing after them. Spice hissed and walked faster. "Creepy thing already terrorized Angelo into silence. What do you want?"

"We really don't know what happened, do we? They seemed friendly, but now Angelo refuses to talk to the one with him."

"Maybe it ate a piece of art he was working on," Spice grumbled.

The team to their left, consisting of a Lapras on his own conjured water and a Houndoom and Vileplume on his back, was a minute away. They were getting closer together. Accompanying those three was yet another Shade. That one seemed to only have two eyes, but they were mismatched.

Void Basin was unpredictable, but the approach was not, and they had been ordered to fan out to cover more ground for any suspicious triggers. Once they got closer to the crater's edge, they would group back up to defend against anything odd.

It was all silly. There was nothing wrong with the place. What was really wrong was the Chasm to the east, where apparently Nate came from. Did the Basin ever house eldritch beings of incomprehensible size like the Chasm? No! That made it better by at least one order of magnitude.

The walk continued. Leo was starting to look nervous.

"You alright?" Spice asked.

"No, if I'm being honest," Leo said. "I'm getting this horrible feeling…"

"We were just told to go to the edge," Spice said. "We don't have to go inside. It's just to investigate something, maybe get some drawings—ahh, if Angelo wasn't training, that might have been useful…"

Leo made an uncertain whine, and that's when Spice knew he was actually nervous. Leo hated making noises that his feral counterparts did. Some kind of pride thing.

"If you're not sure, you can stay back. It's alright."

"What? No," Leo said. "I wouldn't be much of a team leader if I sent you on your own."

Spice wanted to roll her eyes, but her concern was stronger. "Tell me if you're feeling weird, okay?"

They were a few minutes from the edge, now. Spice had a vague sense that someone was calling her from somewhere, but she ignored it. It wasn't like it was beckoning her or tempting her or anything ominous. Maybe she was just paranoid.

Spice could see the other end of the crater and a bit of what was inside, but it was, expectedly, just more reddish-brown rock, barren of all life. Though, now that she thought about it, the rocks looked a shade more purple than usual.

"Stop!"

"Oh, what now?" Spice was about to turn back, but a green-black canine ran past her and spun. "Zygarde? Again? Where have you been?!"

"Investigating," Zygarde said breathlessly. "Hello. You should turn back. This place is not safe."

"Mmb!"

"Oh, now you tell us?" Spice hissed at the Shade.

"I have already sent one of my copies here and he has not returned; there is not even a trace of his body. Worse, his spirit did not return to the rest of us, either. A fragment of me is completely unaccounted for. This is unprecedented, and you should not continue. You may suffer the same fate."

"Okay, we aren't gonna go far," Spice said. "It was just to investigate."

"You've investigated enough. Turn back. It's… the curse of this place is true. It is a restricted zone for a reason."

Spice glanced at the other teams. Both other squadrons had a Zygarde lecturing them, too.

But that feeling of someone calling Spice was getting stronger. She furrowed her brow, wondering if she was starting to feel its effects after all. But, no, she didn't feel drawn to the Basin. Someone was just calling her. She tried to focus on the voice.

She tuned out Zygarde's warnings and the Shade's gurgling.

Only the voice from the Basin. It felt unpleasant—she recognized it as Psychic energy, similar to Leo. But it also felt very far away.

Please…

Spice held her gasp, but crawled forward, despite Zygarde's protests.

"Do you hear that?" Spice asked.

"Do not follow any impulses," Zygarde said immediately. "You must turn back."

"Im—impulses?" Leo said. "In… in what way? To be honest, it's not as scary up close…"

Please, help… Is anyone there? I'm sorry… what did I do to deserve this?

"Someone needs help in there," Spice said, slipping past Zygarde. He shifted his paws and tried to draw out green, arrow-shaped energy, but Spice immediately said, "Will you just wait?! Leo, stay back! It's not safe for you!"

"No less safe than for you," Zygarde warned.

"I'm immune, okay?!" Spice, with a frustrated growl, crawled the rest of the way toward the basin. Zygarde, for some reason, did not follow, and instead advised Leo to stay behind. The Shade accompanying them pinned itself on Leo's fur, tugging him back with what might have been a mouth.

Satisfied they were letting her go, she gazed into the crater.

It was like an empty lake, or like a bowl had been carved out from the land, and then time was left to unevenly erode what was left. No grass, no trees. Spice found it nostalgic, because she liked gazing into that emptiness to think on her own. Nobody bothered her there.

But it seemed darker than usual. The red-brown rocks were more like purple, and a dust storm was kicking up near the center. Purple, faint twisters, visible from dust of the same color, spun and spun at the basin's very center. That was also where the voice was coming from.

Spice tried to answer. Hello? Can you hear me?

Silence. She glanced back at the others. Zygarde and the Shade were stationary; Leo was getting anxious, asking to get closer to make sure Spice wouldn't fall. Zygarde dug through Leo's bag and told him to put on a rope, which he obeyed with a hint of reluctance.

Rolling her eyes, Spice refocused on the voice.

Please, someone, anyone. I can't take it anymore. I… I just want it to be over. Please…

So this voice couldn't hear Spice. She cursed under her breath, wondering if she should go further. No, that was too risky. But she would have to report back.

One more try. My name is Salazzle Spice. If you can hear me, tell me where you are.

This time, she tried to reach out as far as she could. Leo had tried telepathy like this with her before, using Psychic power. She was never any good at it, and telepathy in general—especially without a mutual Psychic—was spotty at best. But it was still worth trying.

All Spice heard was more of the same. It was more desperate this time, like her thoughts themselves were being interrupted by her real-world sobs. Spice's claws dug into the stone. Someone was in trouble, and she was just going to walk away?

"Spice." Leo's hand touched her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Spice jerked her shoulder away, but then flinched at the crazed look in Leo's eyes. "A-are you okay?"

"I'm fine. What do you hear?"

She regarded him for a breath, and then answered hesitantly. "A girl's voice. Tiny voice. Maybe a powerful Psychic…"

Zygarde's eyes dimmed. The Shade looked anxious, bobbing up and down, gurgling something urgently. Leo looked… wrong, somehow.

"Do you want to save her?" Leo asked. "I think we should go in and save her."

And in that moment, Spice decided they had to retreat. "No, Leo. Come on. Let's tell the others."

"What? But someone needs to be rescued!"

"What happened to your fear, Leo?"

"I wouldn't be a team leader if I was abandoning someone in need."

"Your eyes are wild, Leo. We need to go back. Something's wrong."

Leo laughed. "I'm finally getting some courage, and now you're the one with cold feet?" He gave her a toothy grin. "The basin isn't so bad! Now that I'm looking at it… it really is just an empty crater."

The other two teams were heading back. Their Zygarde escorted them, along with their respective Shades. Both squadrons were staring at them with worry.

"Leo, I want you to focus. Get that thought out of your head. Think back to a few minutes ago, okay?" Spice held his hand, clasping one in both of hers. "Remember when you knew this place was cursed?"

"I was wrong. And now we need to save someone." Leo nodded, then gave her a confident smile. That wasn't Leo's smile. Something was twisting it, pulling it up by his lips. Was this still Leo?

"…What's… your father's name?"

Leo gave her an odd look. "Tari. Spice, what's gotten into you? I…" There was a flash of recognition in Leo's eyes.

Spice tried to latch onto that. "And we need to get back to them, right? Come on. We should—"

"I can't go back to them and say we abandoned someone in need!" Leo shouted immediately. "Spice, as your leader, I'm ordering you to head down with me."

"That's enough," Zygarde said, and then gave a mighty tug of the rope wrapped around Leo's torso. Leo wheezed as the wind left his chest, but then he grasped the rope and channeled flames through his hands—to no effect. Leo's rope, of course, was flame-proof. Instead, he gave a crazed look to Spice and, in a deft motion, flicked his other hand, the hand with his conjuring stick—

Spice was flying before she realized what had happened. The pain came later, first in her chest, then her head. And then she saw the ground far below her, and the crater's edge rising higher and higher. Spice saw a green flash of Zygarde's Thousand Arrows, but then she hit the rocks.


With a pained grunt, Spice rolled onto her back. Something was broken. Maybe her arm. Or her shoulder. Possibly a rib. She'd need to sleep that one off for a day or two.

Opening one eye, her vision didn't change very much. The air smelled stagnant and damp, which didn't make a whole lot of sense. Where did the sun go? The way her breathing echoed meant she was inside a solid building. The damp smell, some kind of basement?

Hadn't she just been in the open air by the crater?

No, then she'd been pushed…

"Leo?!" Spice called, and was surprised at how much her voice echoed back at her. "What—"

Something growled and she heard footfalls. Her instincts told her to roll, narrowly avoiding a snarling beast that bit the air where she'd been. She kicked hard, then blasted a disorienting plume of poison forward. She hopped and her back slammed against a stone wall.

She couldn't get a good look at what had attacked her. It was small and four-legged and dark. It jumped at her and she caught a glance of green and white hexagons just as she kicked it away again.

Zygarde. But why was she being attacked by him?

A heavy, metallic creak, like a huge, heavy door opening, caught both their attention. Spice was faster; she dug for her bag and found an iron spike. She hurled it toward Zygarde, landing a perfect shot at his upper foreleg. He yelped and Spice ran toward the door, cautious.

"Hey, careful!" Spice shouted. "There's a feral—thing in here!" No time to explain beyond that.

Spice expected to see someone huge pushing open the door, but all she saw was the hallway. More dreary stone and only dim lights thanks to scattered crystals embedded in the ceiling.

It was a Treecko, staring curiously at her.

"You aren't supposed to be here," Treecko said.

"Yeah, I know!" Spice spat, but then realized she'd been ignoring Zygarde for too long. She spun back, but saw that it was only growling. "What's gotten into him…?"

Treecko paced toward the beast, sighing.

"What's your name?" Treecko asked.

"What's yours?" Spice replied cautiously.

"I asked first." She smiled wryly.

Alright. She could respect that. "Salazzle Spice."

"Treecko Mhynt." She took one step closer to the beast.

"Careful, he's—"

Zygarde roared and lunged. Shadowy arrows conjured around his shoulders and fired toward Mhynt, leaving small slash marks wherever they hit the stone behind her. Mhynt didn't flinch. Spice had no idea how none of those hit Mhynt.

The Treecko made a waving motion above her; at the apex, a Honedge appeared in her hands. Spice had no idea where she hid it. And then, Zygarde was right upon her, inches away—and then his roar was cut short. The blade protruded through his back, covered in a clear, dark fluid. The blade shined gently with a golden light.

"What did…" Spice trailed off, staring dumbly. That Treecko had singlehandedly…

Zygarde's body burst in a plume of darkness that swirled around Mhynt, collecting in the blade like water down a drain. The blade darkened; the colors siphoned and collected near the empty, soulless eye of the Honedge's hilt. A green teardrop grew and landed into Mhynt's free hand, roughly the size of a baby apple. It reminded Spice of an emerald.

Treecko approached Spice—at some point, the blade disappeared, and Spice didn't know when—and gestured for Spice to take it. She obeyed without thinking, briefly touching Mhynt's hand. They were tough and scaly, much like hers, though there was a softness that Spice would never be able to replicate.

"What did you do?" Spice finally finished.

Mhynt seemed to make sure that Spice was holding the gem firmly before she actually let go, patting Spice's hand for good measure.

"I have great power over spirits of this world. I can shape them and manipulate them as I wish. I have placed your friend in a dormant state while his spirit cleanses. Put him under the care of someone important to him. An acquaintance would do. When the time is right—and you will know—place the gem under soft, radiant light."

"I don't know what that means."

"Someone in Kilo will." Mhynt gestured toward the back of the room. "Go away."

"How? I'd love to."

"I will help. Hold that gem tight to your chest. It won't be able to leave without your help."

"Why?" Spice asked. "What's going on?! Where am I?!"

Mhynt tilted her head. "You don't know?" she asked. "But you're…"

She didn't finish. But the way her eyes glanced left, behind Spice, and then back at Spice again, she was thinking. This Treecko seemed like the kind of person to think a lot, to have her mind wander. Reminded her a lot of that regular Charmander customer when he was ordering chocolates.

Something flickered, like a shadow in the other hall, and Mhynt's movements became more urgent. She pushed forward; something grabbed Spice by the shoulders. She only briefly saw what she thought was a Sceptile made entirely of black haze picking her up. It hurled her into the wall. Bracing for impact, she curled up and held the gem tight to her chest.

She gasped for air and suddenly felt uncomfortably hot, like she'd been baking in the sun. The air was dry. Her mouth tasted of iron. With a painful breath, she knew she was still alive and rolled onto her back, squinting at the sun and the crater's edge high above her. A few things were broken. Definitely. But she was alive.

Had that all been a dream?

"Ugh… What's…" She wondered if she'd fallen asleep, because she was starting to forget what that felt like, but no, she'd passed out from the fall. She heard some activity higher up.

"Hey!" Spice called. "Is anyone there?"

No answer. Whatever activity there was had gone quiet.

Growling, she searched for her bag. "Oh, for the love of—"

Scattered, smashed, most of her supplies ruined from the fall. Her edible vials had been destroyed or disorganized, but a few still seemed good. She grabbed an intact Oran infusion and bit down. It would ease the pain, even if the healing blessings didn't work on her.

It seemed steep, but her nimbleness, even with one of her arms not totally cooperating, let her climb. She felt at home with the ground. The ground spoke to her, like she knew just where to step, and the idea that such a thing was strange didn't occur to her until she was at the top. She'd heard that Ground Pokémon had this kind of affinity with soil at times.

"Hey," Spice shouted, realizing that Zygarde, the shade, and some of the team wasn't very far away. "Did you guys not hear me?! I nearly died! Leo! What's gotten into—"

Spice ducked and rolled past a Hydro Pump from Lapras that had narrowly hit her. The water sailed into the crater.

"H-hey!" Spice shouted.

Zygarde was next, preparing many green arrows over his shoulders. Spice knew that one. She dashed forward and waved between the first volley, then crossed her arms for the next. A black Protect deflected every blow as she advanced.

"Guys, it's me!" Spice shouted. "Hello?! What's going on?!"

And to this, they all looked startled. They stared at one another, then back at Spice.

"What's your name?" Zygarde asked.

"Spice. Is Leo okay?"

Leo had been staring at her for a while, but she noticed, now that she was closer, that his arms were tied up. There was a crazed look in his eyes.

"We need to leave this place," Zygarde said. "You… How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling just fine," Spice said, putting a hand to her chest. "But I—"

Her hand struck something hard and she looked down.

In her chest, embedded where her heart should have been, was an emerald gemstone surrounded by plate-like, hexagon scales.