Chapter 127 – Direction

It had all happened so quickly. To go from so much activity to none at all was almost enough to put her into a new kind of shock. The numbness of adrenaline was wearing off. The fact that her entire lower half was missing caught up to her. Vision blurry, mind slipping away, she tried to speak and only vomited blood. Breathing wasn't working at all.

That look Owen had given her. Those eyes, defeated yet determined. Like he was already calculating what to do after the loss. She needed to have faith, for now, that he could carry on alone, somehow. And perhaps he had faith that they would find a way to get him back.

So, she couldn't die. She couldn't forget him again. She wouldn't fall to the Void the same way Amia had. It was unacceptable, inexcusable. Especially to that false god. She had enough troubles from the real ones, usurpers, and now that mockery.

A mockery that nearly killed them all… How were they supposed to stand up to it?

Those fading thoughts buzzed in her mind as her scales lost their shine. She had to focus, single-mindedly, on surviving. She didn't know when or for what aid or even if there would be any aid, but that was her focus. She'd forgotten who was with her, who could save her, and briefly, she forgot about Owen in favor of her next breath, her next empty thought.

Something blurry waved in front of her. She squinted, focusing her gaze on it. An olive-green arm. Olive green scales. Green scales, yellowish. Claws. Demitri, it was Demitri. She tried to speak his name but nothing came. Then, the arm reached forward and held her cheeks, and he said something comforting, which made her feel even less comfortable. Something bad was about to happen.

Sharp, hot, twisting pain electrified her midsection and her eyes shot wide. She curled and flailed, but then it felt like a hundred arms descended upon her, pressing her into the earth. Then came ten thousand needles against her scales, along her lower body, and a deep, snapping noise as something cracked into place, repairing itself impossibly fast.

She took her first, stinging breath and wailed.

A gruff voice shouted something that felt sarcastic and annoyed, but also relieved. She had a sense of the emotions in his words, but not the words themselves.

Then, the voice spoke again, "Hold still, it's almost over."

Jerry, it was Jerry. He was the one who'd saved her from another strike. How strong was he, truly?

She tried to focus on those thoughts instead of the pain, but it was hard. Every movement she made—and something about her body felt the need to move just then—brought about a redoubled, tingling electricity. She convulsed and curled and that only made the pain worse. A side of her head felt hot next, and healing light draped down that same side, restoring her ribbon. It was paler. Discolored. That wasn't typical of healing. What sort of curse did those blighted attacks have?

"Zena, can you hear me? Can you reply?" Demitri asked.

Zena tried to speak again but all that came were grunts. She felt like she couldn't breathe, or if she tried, she would only use all the air to scream.

"Slowly, slowly," Demitri said, and only then did Zena realize how frantic her movements had been.

It was… embarrassing, and she looked away, ashamed. Like she was some primal feral caught in a cage. That brief instant that she'd lost her composure, though, and her vision blurred again. This time it was from tears. No, no, she couldn't do this in front of everyone. But it hurt, it still hurt, even after the healing. Echoes of the pain were still there; she couldn't forget it.

Face screwed up, eyes squeezed shut, she wailed again, slamming her tail against a tree. Another electric tingling rattled her whole body and she yelped; several of the team cleared the way.

"Hey, Zena, Zena!" Demitri said, holding her firmly. It wasn't as strong as Demitri was usually capable of. "It's alright. It's alright. You… g-got sliced in half. Just take it easy, don't… Just breathe, okay?"

She sobbed again, hiding her face behind her ribbons. It all hurt, but it was fading, in the same way a hurricane could fade into a great storm. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there, recovering, trying to compose herself. Several times it crossed her mind that she was holding them all up. Cursory glances suggested she wasn't; all of them looked exhausted. Alex was nursing a scarred-looking arm where the head had been reattached, bleeding from its mouth even then. Mispy wobbled occasionally, only present enough to heal people by some muscle memory than a conscious effort. Eon had passed out, unable to retain a form, and had become nothing but a pile of pink slime that Jerry occasionally prodded to make sure he was alive.

The only one who looked anywhere fully present was Jerry, who was standing guard over all of them. There was, occasionally, a Void Shadow in the distance, but Jerry seemed quick to spot them and send a Rock Blast or two as a warning. That was enough for them to scurry away.

Perhaps one or two whole kilos had passed before she felt that speaking wouldn't be screaming instead. Mispy, perhaps also more present, was sliding toward her. The Meganium was probably the reason she was in one piece again, too. Was she trying to heal her again? Was she still injured? Perhaps she was and she didn't even know…

But Mispy left a trail of green blood behind her, and there was an awful puddle of it where she'd been slouched.

Zena's first words finally came. "Heal yourself… I'm in far better shape. Mispy. Please."

"You're in pain…"

"Heal… yourself," Zena asserted, giving no further argument. Mispy, flinchingly, relented and looked over her own wounds, discolored vines growing back, patches of scales marking where the wounds had carved her. A wave of energy pulsed over the Meganium, though she seemed regretful about it. But she was looking better, if only slightly.

Zena checked her body, spotting a discolored ring around her abdomen and puncture wounds where Alexander's Shadow teeth had dug into her. Those weren't going to go away, were they? A blemish on her that not even healing got rid of. It hadn't even been very long; the wound couldn't have settled. This was a different kind of attack. Had it cut her very aura?

"It still hurts a little," Zena admitted, wincing when she moved her tail. It all felt like electric shocks.

Mispy gently tapped at her rear and Zena winced again. Mispy nodded. "Nerves react… reactivating," she stuttered, clearing her throat. "It… will fade."

"Right. Thank you." It already was, slightly, but she didn't want to move. Not her lower half, anyway. "I'm sorry for how I was acting," Zena said. "I wasn't myself."

"You were half of yourself," Jerry muttered, earning glares from the entire team. He flinched, holding up his wings disarmingly. "Look, I'm just saying, nobody's gonna blame you. Besides, you—OW!"

He sidestepped from an invisible strike, snarling. Dust shuffling on the ground from some invisible creature suggested Enet had her own way of glaring at Jerry.

Jerry sighed. "Point is, you stood up to Alexander like all of us. And even after you were down, you kept fighting. That's how I'm gonna remember this." He rolled his eyes, looking away.

It softened a lot of the glares, and even Zena relented. She was too exhausted to be angry at anyone but Alexander, now.

The whole place smelled like blood and death and she didn't want to think about what else. It was a miracle that they'd all survived. Then, her eyes trailed to the pile of sludge that had been Dark Matter, sensing a malevolent aura still lingering there. They'd seen it from far away. Dark Matter had pulled Owen toward him, but then he got hit by the javelin of light instead.

They hadn't expected Mhynt to strike the Tree and steal some of its light, passing it to Alexander. Mhynt had claimed it ruined her stamina. And Alexander could barely hold the holy weapon. Zena wondered why Mhynt had tired so easily; it seemed too suspicious. But now it was quiet. Dark Matter was dead. And they had a whole new foe to worry about, all over again.

They spent even more time recovering. For all that time, there had been no sounds from Null Village. The battle was over. Perhaps, with luck, a rescue party would find them and make the trip home easier. She doubted it, though. The town was in ruins, even if they'd driven off the enemy.

By now, Zena was the only one still in no condition to move. Even Mispy had recovered enough to wander around and get more limber.

Her eyes happened to trail to the sludge that had been Dark Matter's body.

A single bubble rose thickly from the sludge, and then another. Zena's breath hitched and she didn't take her eyes off of it. She had to watch for any signs of…

Another bubble, and now the sludge was moving.

"He's not dead," Zena whispered, but couldn't find the strength in her to conjure an attack just yet. She looked back at the others, but they were all focused on healing, and her voice had been too soft. She tried again, "He's—"

A claw weakly emerged from the sludge. Orange scales. Slightly darker than she remembered, but unmistakably of the same type.

"Ughh…"

An arm, then a head of a tiny, tiny Charmander. He pulled himself out of the clumps, took barely a step forward, and then collapsed again. His tail had no flame, but Zena couldn't ignore what she was seeing. Those features, that mark on his back like a faded star, the way his mouth shape was just slightly feral…

"Owen?"

That was her loudest word yet, and all eyes turned to the fallen Charmander. Mispy immediately closed her eyes, looking at his aura. Yes, she could try the same. She focused… But the whole place was filled with a deep, dark fog when she tried to look. She couldn't tell if it really was Owen.

But Mispy must have seen something else, because she slithered forward and picked the Charmander up, carefully, and set him on her back. One of her vines, wrapped around one of the light crystals, squeezed… But nothing seemed to happen.

"He needs help," Alex frantically said, almost babbling. "We—how did that happen? Is that Owen? But he was flown away…"

"Let's go," Mispy said.

She was already heading back to town.

The team did one final headcount, making sure everyone was in one piece, and any missing pieces were accounted for. Realizing that Zena was still in no condition to move, Demitri helped with carrying her back, gently coiling her body before holding her from below. Several others helped keep Zena steady, carrying her awkwardly back, and Zena insisted that she go on her own.

They didn't entertain it; she was far too weak to move, even if she wanted to.

Jerry was the most unscathed, evasive about why, saying it wasn't important. He helped Demitri carry Zena, along with Alex's assistance. Mispy, Demitri, and Gahi had off-colored scales where their wounds had been healed, and Zena was, obviously, the most exhausted from the ordeal.

Eon was in some kind of shock, occasionally a gibbering mess and Zena was unsure if she wanted to comfort him to leave him be. Even if she wanted to, would it be any help? Now that he was more awake, Eon was stuck in a Charmeleon form long after Owen had left. Gahi was carrying him back.

They did one last headcount… Zena was cognizant enough to assist.

"Hakk and Xypher," Zena suddenly said, and a wave of realization hit the rest of them. Those two hadn't been on their team very much at all; their absence hadn't registered. "Where'd they go?" Zena looked for faces that knew the answer, but they were all wide-eyed and clueless.

Mispy nodded at Gahi, as if giving a silent instruction, and the Flygon flew up high. Mispy checked the ground, eyes closed. As they traveled further from the battle site, the dark fog thinned, too, and Zena had a better time searching around.

Gahi blinked toward them first. "That way." He pointed just slightly off the path to town.

After their time was wasted just to recover, the walk itself was short. The explosions from the Judgment barrage had subsided. All of the Void Shadows had been slain or driven away. Titans were vanquished, their cores freed. The battle was over on all fronts, at least for Null Village.

Now… came the aftermath.

"No…" Mispy whispered.

When they found Hakk, he was sobbing over a mound of steel feathers, a deflated, long dead body of Xypher beneath him. Whatever words he was saying were strings of incomprehensible sobs and sharp curses, followed by whining that could have fooled Zena into thinking it came from a feral.

It was hard to watch and even harder to speak up. She stood there, frozen, until she realized that everyone else was, too. Even Jerry was glancing away, clenching his teeth. Was he thinking of what to do, what to say? So was she.

"Hakk," Zena finally said.

No response, but he seemed to know they were there. He spared a glance and quieted down. He kept clutching at Xypher's feathers, shaking the dead body which, of course, did not reply.

"He's gone, he's gone, please, wake up, wake up, don't… don't leave, don't… You can't, you're… You can't afford to die, you were just a Class D, you were just… Where… Where are you now? A-are you… Were you…"

Xypher, or what was left of him, must have reappeared somewhere in the area… as a Void Shadow. If it was fast enough, perhaps he'd even appeared during those final Judgment barrages, fighting on the enemy team. Slain by those tendrils of light, only to come back again somewhere else, over and over.

It wasn't fair. None of this was right. And this reality… was created by Dark Matter. Perpetuated by Alexander. All of this fighting, this horrid world…

Demitri placed a hand on Hakk's back. He shrank away, clutching onto Xypher like they were going to take him away. Demitri held strong. Frost appeared on Hakk's back as he screamed for him to go away, but Demitri shook his head.

"I'm not leaving," Hakk blubbered. "I'm… I'll never leave. Th-there's no point. Xypher… Xypher!" He kept repeating it, on and on. And despite frosting over, Demitri didn't let go, but he also wasn't pulling Hakk away. Nobody wanted to interfere. And, somehow, Demitri seemed to know that Hakk wouldn't have outright struck him down for trying.

Movement caught Zena's eye again. Charmander was awake and sitting up, looking half-asleep, but paying attention. There wasn't any light in his eyes and his tail was flickering with a dark ember.

That… wasn't Owen.

But it was his body? Or…

She quickly glanced at Mispy. Was she already under Dark Matter's control? No—she was holding a light crystal. She was fine. When Zena looked at the Charmander again, he was staring back at her and she froze. It was surreal. It was Owen's body, and he looked exactly the same, but his eyes were completely different. The little downturn of his mouth, the lazy gaze and bored head-tilt…

Finally, Hakk was calming down more. Rationality won over. He slowly stepped away from Xypher with some help from Demitri, who had a thin layer of frost over his scales. He was moving slowly.

"He… he's smiling," Hakk said. "I don't… I don't understand why… Why would he…"

Zena wasn't sure how Hakk could tell that a bird could smile, but maybe it was something only Hakk knew.

"He saved Owen," Alex said gently. "That was the last thing he did. He must have… I, I don't really know. I'm sorry, Hakk. I don't know what to say…"

Hakk started with a fierce glare at Alex, but then a confused expression flashed in those striking blue eyes. Alex flinched, too, hiding behind Mispy. That meek attitude caught Hakk off guard enough that his ire ebbed.

"Who are you?" Hakk said. "I saw you fighting Alexander…"

"I want nothing to do with him," the Hydreigon replied immediately, "but… he's my f-father. I thought he was dead. Preferred that. Even more, now that… this happened."

The icy Sandslash's countenance darkened with defeat, like he was searching for someone to be mad at. With Alex being so apologetic, he seemed to have run out of targets. The Charmander was either not recognized, or out of his line of sight behind Mispy's neck.

Zena was about to raise her concerns, but a sharp look from Charmander gave her pause, and she wasn't sure why. He brought a claw to his mouth and looked down, eyes closed. Did he just shush her?

"Later," he mouthed.

Well, why should she? Later. Like he had any authority on the matter. "I—"

"Do you want to bury him?" Demitri offered, and Zena stopped herself.

Charmander rolled his eyes, his dark eyes radiating an 'I told you so' attitude.

Perhaps so, just this once.

"Is there someplace we can bring him?" Zena added, prying her eyes away from Owen's mockery.

"I… I just need time. I need…"

"Time… here?" Demitri offered. "Well, the fighting is over. If you want some of us to stay to keep guard or something, would… would we be able to do that?" Demitri looked desperately at the others.

"…Yeah. Yeah, I'll stay back," Gahi said. "I'd be fastest anyway ter, y'know."

"No," Jerry said, "I'll stick around. Look, I'm not gonna explain this, but you saw me back there. I can fight these Void Shadows fine. Check on us if you want, but…" Jerry eyed Charmander, then Hakk. "Figure you don't want a crowd."

"Can't I just be alone?" Hakk asked, though there was little force behind it.

"We'll tell the guards back in the village what happened," Jerry said. "They'll send some folks over to do whatever's the procedure here. Gahi, why don't you, I dunno, go ahead and tell 'em?"

"Eh, sure…" Gahi gave Jerry a suspicious look, but Jerry only seemed annoyed.

Jerry was hiding something, but there was nothing dark about his aura. Zena didn't know why he was so resistant to Alexander's power, though.

"Is there anything else?" Demitri asked.

Hakk sniffed, completely deflated as he sat opposite to Xypher. "No," he said. "Thank you."

After a long silence, the team finally got their compromise, leaving Jerry behind to return to the village safely. The rest of the trip was uneventful and quiet, and Zena turned her attention to Charmander, whom she was certain was actually the very foe they'd been trying to kill.

But Zena said nothing for now, instead cautiously watching him as they continued through town. She finally—and truly, this time—felt her strength return enough to move on her own. Now she could move closer to Mispy to check for anything odd, but her aura was just fine.

Charmander gave uneasy glances at the Radiant Tree now and then, ignoring any small talk the team tried with him. They didn't want to press.

It wasn't until they made it to their apartments that Zena asked them to set Charmander on one of the common room seats. Demitri left for the kitchen to make a meal; Gahi left to check on Trina, catching her up on everything that happened. She seemed a little down; Zena couldn't blame her. Reduced to a Snivy, no real power at all…

They eventually gathered back together. Demitri prepared a few simple snacks. Charmander hadn't said a word, so Zena felt it was time to acknowledge it.

"So," Zena said once everyone else was present, "why exactly are you with us now… Dark Matter?"

Mispy kept walking to the pantry for a snack, but Demitri seemed startled.

Alex flinched. "D-Dark Matter? I—but Owen, I thought he'd… somehow done a trick, or…"

"We saw him fly away," Zena said lowly. "Mispy, why did you…"

"But he has that birthmark; how can it not be Owen?" Alex pressed. "It—it's really you, isn't it? Owen? You tricked Alexander somehow, didn't you?"

Charmander slowly closed his eyes during their talking, and then finally turned his head to Mispy, who was munching on some canned fruits, followed by the can. "You're the smart one," he muttered. "Demonstrate."

Mispy furrowed her brow, looking skeptically at him, but then approached. Her vines writhed, guiding the light crystal she'd been holding—green, like a meadow—to Charmander, who on instinct seemed to inch away from it.

"That isn't what I meant," he growled at Mispy.

"Too bad." She wrapped a vine around his body so he couldn't escape. Then, she tossed the crystal at Charmander's cheek. It sizzled. He hissed and flicked it away, where it was caught by another vine.

"Don't toss that!" Demitri shouted. "He'll control you!"

Some wanted to go in, but they didn't know if it was already too late.

"Mispy, get away from him!" Demitri shouted.

"Enough nonsense," Dark Matter snarled, his voice a harsh squeak in that body. "I'm… exhausted. You're exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually. You do not have the fire to strike me and I am the same."

"Fire to strike, I'll show you fire—" Gahi growled, marching forward. "Who d'you think y'are?!"

"Dark Matter."

"Don't you get smart with—give me one reason I shouldn't pop yer head!" He reached out and pressed Dark Matter against the cushion of the beanbag seat. He pressed a claw against Dark Matter's throat to prove a point.

"Do what you want." Dark Matter stared blankly forward. "I don't care."

Gahi didn't go on, but he was frozen there, like he was weighing his options. "…Mispy, yer crazy. He controllin'—"

Mispy raised a vine, showing the light crystal.

"…Well, okay, maybe not, but—"

Mispy dropped the crystal, still holding onto Dark Matter.

"Mispy!" Demitri shouted, exasperated. "What are you—"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," Dark Matter leaned over to Mispy's side and dug through her bag until he found and pulled out a cloth bigger than he was. Mispy looked offended, tugging it back. Then Dark Matter looked offended, and he glared at Gahi. "I have a headache. Mispy already understands the situation, as you can see. Shut up, and we can talk when I have the energy."

"Can you even get headaches?" Demitri pressed. Zena wasn't sure if this was a useful line of questioning, and Mispy, looking impatient, was already looking for a second can of food. Demitri went with her to look for ingredients for a more proper lunch, mumbling something, and Mispy mumbled back, perhaps explaining herself.

"I am the essence of negativity. Of course I can get headaches." Dark Matter squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his chest. There was a faint, red glow coming from where his heart should have been.

"…Mispy says… she tried tossing her crystal in the air where it'd touch her again later, and Dark Matter never tried to control her then. Maybe he can't." Demitri glanced uneasily at Dark Matter. "But… why are we…?"

"Hrrrgh…" Dark Matter covered the sides of his head. "I know where Owen is with complete precision. I'm valuable to you. I'm also powerless. We have a mutual interest in getting him back. Stop asking questions. You annoy me."

Stunned silence. Alex stumbled over his words before finally muttering, "R-rude…"

Dark Matter winced again, then let out a raspy cough. Clouds of black smoke left his throat, floating in a way that smoke normally didn't. It seemed to follow some other flow than the wind.

"A-are you okay?" Demitri asked on reflex.

"No, and I never am," Dark Matter said, "but I will… improve… if you give me time to rest."

"And we should allow that… why?" Zena kept her voice steady. She still didn't understand Mispy's rationale for bringing him here. She may have been smart, but Zena was not sure if she was wise.

"Look at me." Dark Matter held out his tiny arms. "Mispy can sense the weakness of my aura, and I'm in no position to disguise or suppress it. I can hardly break through the binds of mundane rope."

"And…" Mispy led on, waiting for Dark Matter to finish.

"And what?"

Mispy waited, staring, and Dark Matter stared back.

He furrowed his scaly brow. "There is nothing more to it. What?"

Mispy pointed a vine at Dark Matter's chest, prodding it. Once again offended, the Charmander swatted it away. "Congratulations, you can sense my core. Does your aura sense give you anything interesting?"

"Light," Mispy said, jabbing the vine.

Dark Matter let out a low growl, the flame on his tail darkening further. He searched around for something to hide under, finding nothing, and said, "Owen did that. He… was going to kill me, and couldn't bear it. But just before he pulled away, his emotions flared. Some of it pierced my core. That part of me is what Alexander left behind. That part is the 'me' that you see now."

"So," Demitri said, holding up a claw, "you're… Light-Dark Matter, now?"

"That's a terrible name and you should feel bad for coming up with it."

"A-actually," Demitri quickly said, "speaking of names… A-are you really… Dark Matter? Is that your name?"

"Yes."

"Who gave it to you? Or did you come up with it on your own?"

"…Anam gave it to me. I had no name before. I refused when Owen asked to give me one."

"Why?" Demitri asked. "Everyone deserves a name…"

"I just want the pain to stop."

Gahi grumbled, crossing his arms. "Well, yer fun at parties…"

Something seemed to be on Dark Matter's mind, and it was strange to see those mannerisms. They reminded Zena of Owen, leaving a sickening feeling in her gut any time she realized it. Before she could muster up the courage to ask, though, he answered for her.

"Anam is to the west, in the back of a cave infested with Void Shadows. I doubt he is dead. When I have the strength… I will guide you to him."

"Wh—just like that?" Demitri blinked.

"How can we trust you?" Zena asked yet again. "What if it's a trap?"

"Then don't trust me," Dark Matter muttered. "I am only doing what would help get Owen back faster. We both want that, don't we?"

"If you want to do that, you'll start by reversing all the trouble you caused." Zena felt the air dampen with her element, cooling the room. She didn't quell it. She wanted Dark Matter to know that nobody trusted him.

"Some things cannot be reversed."

"Then reverse what you can."

"P-please," Demitri said gently. "If… if you really want to work with us, that's how you can prove yourself. Prove yourself by helping us."

"How?" Mispy murmured to Demitri.

"I—well, I mean…"

Awkward silence fell, and Zena understood the dilemma. They couldn't kill Dark Matter here, because what would that accomplish? And Owen… had spared Dark Matter. They'd seen it. He must have done so for a reason; he couldn't be corrupted the same way Dark Matter corrupted others. Why, then?

But that was the sole reason the whole team was no longer killing him right then. His sole lifeline was some vague interpretation of Owen's actions… Still, Zena knew that was how Owen felt. And while he was taken away, she had to honor that.

"Fine," Dark Matter finally said.

"What?" Zena repeated.

Dark Matter dragged himself out from his seat and stumbled to the floor, walking with careful, wobbly steps. "I am… requesting free access to this home for… some number of seconds. If I do anything dangerous to you, kill me. Not that I can."

The team looked at one another suspiciously. "What will you do?" Zena asked.

"Something that looks ominous. But I won't tell you. Owen says that some measure of trust is involved in teamwork, and it will take far too long for me to explain it all. I'm tired." As he spoke, wobbled down the hall and toward Zena, Enet, and Owen's room. He pointed at the door and looked expectantly at Zena.

She, in turn, looked at the others, a glare on her face. Mispy looked like she was weighing her options.

"Anything suspicious, and we'll… kill you on the spot," Zena said.

"Your words are empty," Dark Matter replied as Zena opened the door, "but I will honor them regardless."

He stepped through the doors and his eyes traced the room. "You." He pointed at the wall. "Stay there."

The wall growled. Enet must have slipped in early.

Then, Dark Matter approached the cage, and instantly everyone tensed. That was where Amia was—or, what was left of her.

Zena was about to speak, and then Dark Matter said, "Hush. If I wanted to save Owen, the last thing I'd do is harm his mother."

"W-w-wait, that's… A-Amia? What?" Alex gulped. "What… ha-happened to her… I…"

Demitri and Gahi swiftly got under Alex to hold his descending body, the Hydreigon unable to keep up his levitation.

Dark Matter pressed a few buttons like he knew precisely what to do, and the cage opened. Mispy expanded her tendrils near the doorway to prevent Amia from escaping if she tried, but the blob had been completely docile, focused on Dark Matter. No, of course… He was their patron. He innately commanded their obedience.

He reached toward the top of its shapeless body and his hand glowed a dark color. He squeezed and the Void Shadow churned before them, shrinking, slimming, lightening, while Dark Matter's arm darkened more and more, that color feeding into his shoulders.

Zena watched in awe as, like removing a veil, Dark Matter pulled the dark curtain off of the solidified mass underneath, revealing a dazed-looking Ralts with green hair.

Right, her hair was false before, disguised with Mystic power…

Alex and the others continued to stare. Had that just happened? Zena couldn't find the words. Alex was babbling something, delirious, but unable to move. And, for fear of accidentally crushing her, Demitri and Mispy weren't letting him advance.

The dazed Ralts blinked awake, red eyes gazing upon them. "Oh," she said. "I'm… not sure how I… I'm sorry. Did I wander in here? I feel as though I've had a… Oh, dear, I'm sorry. How rude of me." She gave a gentle curtsey. "It's… odd. You seem so familiar, yet I can't even remember your names!" Even as the team stared in a mixture of relief and horror, she giggled into her hand. "You may call me Evelyn. The second, of course. Or… No, that's strange. That name doesn't… feel right. How odd!" She laughed a little more, almost a snort. "Oh, dear, I'm rambling! Ah… where am I? Who… are all of you?"

"Amia…" Alex breathed.

She turned her head, reflexively answering to the name. A bit more relief. It was Amia. Then why…

"I don't have the power to restore everything," Dark Matter droned, "but I freed the spark. Figure out the rest. But she won't be the same regardless."

The Ralts—Evelyn, or Amia—walked toward Alex in a slight trance, raising her hands to him. The great Hydreigon lowered his head to her level, bowing deep, deep to the ground with tears in his dark eyes.

She closed hers and leaned forward, kissing him. Just a little peck. And then, she pulled away, eyes fluttering open. Zena felt like she shouldn't have seen that, but she was so transfixed that she couldn't look away. Dark Matter restored Amia. Even if it was a little, he had done it.

"…I'm… I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that…"

"Rrgh. I'm going to be sick." Dark Matter wobbled toward Owen's side of the room and flopped down onto part of the indent Zena had left behind. "Bed."

And just like that, he was already out.


It was a miracle that Nate hadn't killed anyone with his final collapse. Lugia had struck Nate and sent him toppling down, directly over a street and all of its buildings. And just when Nevren had sent Har's team except for Lygo back, saying that it would be safer at Kilo Village. They could defend against any stray mutants. And then Lugia decided to show up! Lugia! They couldn't have done anything!

Har had been there when Nate was defeated, recovering from his injuries, too weak to get out of the way in time.

A great dark figure had eclipsed the sky—Nate and his countless eyes.

And then Nate's very body seemed to rip itself apart, forming holes, tendrils, all kinds of wounds that did not bleed. Its eyes had gone frantic, looking at everything as it fell, and then, when Har had crouched down, helpless…

"Har?"

"Guh—" The Charizard jolted up, rubbing the side of his head. Beside him was Lygo, tilting his head with concern. "You're bac…"

The Flygon prodded him. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Y-yeah. Just thinking back."

He was still too weak to do anything. Ani and Ax had left to help with moving debris.

Those strange, wraith-like creatures that Nate was made of were wandering around in small swarms, making little, cute noises as they hauled huge chunks of debris from one part of town to another. It was mesmerizing, watching those tiny things work together to carry something so much larger across the streets…

He still shuddered, though. Only a little while ago, those creatures had nearly fallen onto him and so many others, but Nate had contorted himself so perfectly that only structures had been destroyed… and those under the rubble had been swiftly rescued.

How did Nate know the perfect position for that? Was he some sort of all-seeing god? The way all of those eyes had stared at him from all sides, like a dome, wide and concerned, after the crash would be the stuff of his nightmares for years.

Nate wasn't a god. He was a demon. A kindhearted, gentle demon the size of a small town… but still a demon.

"Bbbbrr?"

"I'm fine," Har muttered back. He wasn't looking, but he could sense that this strange blob was carrying, with uncanny skill, a plate of food. Stir-fry noodles.

Actually, that smelled too good to pass up. With a sigh, he reached out and pulled the plate toward himself. "Thank you."

"That guy's a cute one," Lygo said.

"You're crazy, you know," Har said. "But… they're friendly."

"Bbb!"

"No, sorry. I didn't see one around…"

"A Smeargle? Oh, the one with Mew's Blessing?" Lygo asked.

"Mew's what?"

"That's what they call someone who can rapidly channel more than four techniques at once," Lygo said. "I think there's a Smeargle with it. I heard it's hereditary."

"I don't think I read about that…" Har frowned, not appreciating this gap in knowledge. Now that gods and demons were wandering the world like it was perfectly normal, his neglect of the subject was coming to haunt him. He wondered if Owen was the same way…

"I saw him head that way," Lygo said. "It was during the chaos with Lugia, but it looks like she made landfall to the west."

"We need to get ready to defend if she comes back, though," Har warned.

"Yes, we will," Lygo prodded Har's chest. "You are staying put and recovering."

Har grumbled.

The blob was already leaving. "Guess he wanted information in exchange for stir-fry," Har theorized. "Hope he finds that Smeargle."

Just then, there was a commotion up ahead. Har's flame grew—it was Nevren. Even with his fatigue, he stepped forward.

But he was already swarmed with so many other Pokémon. Countless questions and concerns—who lived, where was everyone, how did it go? Lygo had been there with Nevren, arriving early to send quick news, but Nevren would have the final report.

Har noticed, morbidly, that Nevren's team seemed… smaller than before. Not by a lot, but enough that he noticed. The ice Aggron was missing, for one. And…

And…

And Rhys.

And Rhys, right.

He was… He wasn't there. Of course he wasn't.

But maybe he was in the other place, the spot across the portal. Somewhere there. If they defeated Dark Matter, then Rhys was possibly still alive, like all the others. Like Trina, Team Alloy, even… even Eon.

Har wasn't sure how to feel about Eon… But Trina. Trina was the top priority, and they'd already gotten reports that she was alive. Hopefully that didn't change.

"We will have to give full reports later in a closed session," Nevren said, hands raised to placate the crowd of Pokémon—all sizes and shapes—around him. A few bigger Pokémon, like a nearby Ursaring, tried to grab Nevren for more answers, but a Psychic barrier blocked their grasp.

"I can assure you of one thing: Dark Matter's army has been defeated, and all other foes have been driven away. Casualties are high but not devastatingly so, on both ends, compared to previous estimates."

In other words, it was a decimation, but not an obliteration.

"Dungeons are still cursed, the portal is still open, and many of our own are still confirmed trapped in that world. We will now be shifting our focus and all of our efforts into rebuilding and establishing connections between here and there while the storm is calm. We do not know what other forces are in play… but Dark Matter, it seems…" Nevren paused, perhaps to be dramatic, perhaps to find his words, "has been defeated."

And in the end, that was what they all wanted to hear. Cheers rang out, roars that shook the air. Jovial cries and relief washed over so many faces around him—an overwhelming sense that made Har turn off his Perceive.

All around him, everyone was happy. Lygo smiled encouragingly at Har, patting him on the shoulder. Tired volunteers and Hearts paused what they were doing to breathe and sigh as the news spread. It was a victory. The world had been saved.

All Har could see was Rhys' desperate look as he fell into the void.


This darkness was uncomfortable. Owen never liked the dark—it was primal, after all, for him to fear it—but sometimes he appreciated giving his eyes a rest. This, though, was a cold, oppressive atmosphere that wanted him to go away. It was also familiar.

He continued forward through his mental travels, not worried about where he would go, and only worried that Alexander would abruptly wake him.

Are you there? Owen called, wondering if he would get a reply. At first, there was, of course, no answer. Dark Matter wasn't the sort to answer calls like this. Perhaps a more demanding approach would work. I'm not leaving until we have a talk. You're… still alive, aren't you? Somewhere? I… I heard you. I heard your voice. You're still out there… right?

Owen wasn't sure how long he had wandered, but he wasn't going to give up. He had nothing better to do, after all.

Dark—

What do you want?

The heaviness in the air doubled and Owen winced, holding his breath. It passed. And when Owen looked up again, he saw a Charmander with dark orange scales.

Flinching, Owen opened his mouth to speak, but Dark Matter preempted him.

"It's not by choice." He looked uncomfortable with his own size.

"R-right."

They stood in silence. Owen had forgotten what he wanted to talk about, but he noticed that everything about Dark Matter, in some of the must subtle ways, seemed different. The way he shifted his weight, the way he glanced away, and most importantly, the way his flame had flecks of golden light amid that darkness… Something was different about Dark Matter, down to the way he carried himself.

He seemed calmer, too. Almost… casual, like speaking to an old friend.

What changed?

"Well?" Dark Matter asked.

Another long beat, and then, "Uh—How are you?"

Dark Matter stared.

"You… got shattered. And Alexander, er…"

"Your friends took me in. I revived your mother. That should keep them from killing me."

"You—"

"Partially. I only returned the core of her memories; the rest have to come naturally over time. She doesn't remember you clearly yet, if I had to guess. She won't be the same, and never will. Do not get your hopes up. It is like growing up again, your past coming to you in a dream."

He stared directly at Owen just then.

"You can relate to that very strongly, can't you?"

That one… struck hard. But he was still… Owen. So Amia was still Amia. She might be different, and perhaps as the memories come back, it would be in a new context of her current life, and the 'old Amia' would never truly come back… And maybe, with time, it would be like normal again, too.

Pursuing that hope with Dark Matter of all people wouldn't be productive, though, so he moved on. "And everyone else?"

"Of your friends… they survived," he replied, "aside from Xypher."

"Can you—"

"He was killed by Alexander. He is no longer under my domain. I cannot save him."

"Right…" Owen lowered his head. Hopes dashed before they even had a chance to rise. Dark Matter was a master at that, wasn't he?

"Is that all?"

"What are you going to do now?" Owen asked.

"Get you away from Alexander, once I find the power. Kill Alexander. Reclaim the Voidlands. Destroy the world, probably. Terminus. And so on." He waved his hand noncommittally, looking away.

"You don't sound all that dedicated to world-ending anymore."

"I'm not, but the rest of me is." He looked at his hands. "I'm only a fragment of myself… The part you gave light."

"…Does that make you Light-Da—"

"Stop."

"Sorry." Owen awkwardly shuffled his feet, then conjured a boulder to sit on. The rest of an imaginary, thick forest rose up around them, and Dark Matter rolled his eyes and leaned against a tree instead.

"You're only a fragment?" Owen asked.

"Yes. Alexander has more. And I had left fragments in others, too… as insurance in case I was ever defeated."

"Great… How many?"

"Myself excluded… four. Alexander obviously has one. Emily almost certainly has another. The other two… I do not know."

"Kept even that a secret, huh? Can't even trust yourself with the information."

"Clearly, it paid off."

Owen laughed a little, but the true meaning of that phrase dawned on him. "Wait. You would have told me?"

"Don't press this." He seemed to growl, a thin trail of black haze leaking from his mouth like blood.

Dark Matter seemed to be hurting, so Owen obliged with a nod. Instead, he said, "I don't have much energy to continue this, especially as you get further away. And you're probably the same."

"Then make your next question count," Dark Matter grunted.

"…You said that you have light now," Owen said. "Does that mean… you can feel positive emotions?"

In the imaginary forest, a breeze blew. Owen hadn't conjured it. Maybe Dark Matter did. Or maybe it was some kind of turbulent manifestation.

"I don't know," the dark Charmander finally said. "I don't know what that feels like. I don't know if that's what it is."

"So, you're feeling something different."

"Yes. Sometimes it hurts. But there's… something else, too."

He was having trouble articulating it; Owen could tell this much. Maybe he could guide Dark Matter through this as a learning experience… without making him feel patronized.

"What made you feel it?" Owen asked.

"Hrmgh." He grumbled and looked away. "The bed."

"The… bed."

"Apparently it used to be yours. I fell asleep in it from exhaustion. And… there was a feeling about it. Being in that bed. I'm still trying to comprehend it."

The Charmeleon crossed his legs and leaned forward. "How about you try to describe it?"

"Mmhh… It is the feeling like being near a flame, but it's of a material. And the flame doesn't burn you. I think that was the cushioning. I was not as heavy when on it. I no longer felt a desire to move from that place. I believe my body also was curling by some instinct… And that's all I remember. I must have passed out."

Owen nodded, eyes closed. "That's called being cozy."

"Cozy. That is cozy?" He repeated the word a few times, studiously.

"Did you like it?" Owen asked.

"…I don't know."

"Right. You don't know how to… or what it means to—I know. You said you… no longer felt a desire to move from that place. Another way to phrase it is, you wanted to stay in that place. Right?"

"I suppose that's similar. What's your point?"

This was going to be difficult. But Kilo wasn't made in a day.

…Well, maybe it was.

"No point for now," Owen said. "Hey, right, I remember now. Later, when I have more time and energy, I'm going to reach out to you again. Okay?"

"I won't stop you."

Owen nodded. "Well, if that's the case, then… I'll see you around, er… Dark Matter."

He squinted at that. "What was that pause for?"

"N-nothing."

He growled.

"Just, well, the name."

"Anam imposed it on me."

"Right… Well, I mean… It seems more like a nickname than an actual name, if you ask me."

"You're going to force a name upon me next."

"N-not if you don't want to!" Owen held his hands up.

"What's wrong with 'Dark Matter'?"

"Well, it, er, I mean, it's… nice, and all, just… a mouthful, a little foreboding, two words…"

He looked genuinely offended.

"I—I'm sorry! Just, if you're only a fragment or whatever, and maybe you wanted to… turn a new leaf? Differentiate yourself? Or, well, or try something different…"

Dark Matter was rubbing his face in annoyance, now, sighing into his hands.

"I don't have time for this."

"Aren't you just sleeping in bed right now?"

"And this still isn't worth my time."

Bitter, Owen thought. "Do you want to keep Dark Matter?"

"Do you have something better?"

"I'm… thinking." He looked away. "…Dark Matter. If you're defensive over it, maybe we can keep the basics. Your initials, maybe?"

"D-M? That's all? No. I won't be reduced to initials."

"Hmmh… Names. Eon gave me a name that also meant something. Owen… sort of a play on 'one', because I was his first. And I was going to be his number one partner."

Dark Matter was leaning back and staring at an empty sky, frowning and with dulled eyes.

"It sounds kind of like a word used in an ancient language. Diem."

"Mmh. I don't know that language. It must not exist in Kilo. Did 'Eon' study it?"

"Yeah. I picked up some of the basics. Something… diem. It means day."

"A name based on the concept of daytime?" It seemed like Dark Matter was rapidly losing interest. The fact that he had interest at all, though, was revolutionary.

"I don't remember. It was a phrase based on… opportunity. Taking that opportunity. Kind of like what you can do here."

"There it is." Dark Matter sighed. "You want to name me, this fragment of Dark Matter, after a barely-remembered, partial and foreign corruption of daylight's opportunity. Is that it?"

"I-isn't that good? And clever?"

Another long sigh escaped him as he brought a hand over one eye. The other one was closed. "It's better than Light-Dark Matter." He then glanced Owen's way. "How is it spelled?"

Owen got up, walked toward him, and sat next to him. He pointed at the grass as trails of fire wrote the name down.

"…That's not how it's pronounced. That's clearly die-m."

"No, I think in the accent you use, it's—"

"If you want 'diem' you would spell it like this." He twisted the flames into dark splotches, adding an extra letter. "There. Now it's clear and unambiguous."

"…Diyem." Owen tilted his head, considering it. "You know… Now you made it your own."

"Don't try to make this symbolic. You were never good at it."

"I think," Owen said, "I'm getting better." He smiled proudly, head tilted upwards.

"Hmph." The dark Charmander looked at the word on the ground, reaching toward it. The flames disappeared into his palm. "Maybe you are."

For a brief moment, as their tenuous connection began to fade, Owen thought he saw Diyem smile.