Chapter 136 – What Time Has Done
They really just let him out of Cipher Castle. He walked free. The guards even gave him a firm nod when he walked.
It was surreal. If he wanted, he could, potentially, walk out of the city. But that wasn't something he truly could do, because it would endanger the team.
Once he set foot on the strange, dark pavement of Cipher City's streets, he suddenly felt overwhelmed with choice. It was far larger than anything he'd ever seen before. There were buildings that felt like they could touch the red clouds, streets wide enough for several Pokémon to walk side by side, and buildings so far away that it felt like it'd take a whole kilo just to get to them.
The density of it all forced Owen to dull down his Perceive. He was getting so distracted if he didn't focus on little things first. Kilo Village was nothing compared to here.
In just his first few moments in the city, free to walk and roam, he saw restaurants bustling with activity and strange smells that he recognized as food, yet had no idea what the dishes were. It was a hodgepodge of different ingredients, cooked together from different eras of Kilo and spiced with what little the Voidlands had to offer. Or, somehow, they'd discovered other ways to cultivate different foods?
He passed by places called game corners that seemed to hold all sorts of table-based activities, and even some that used larger versions of the technology he now held in his hand, the communicator. He'd expect that sort of technology from Kanto or Orre.
Also surprising was how many Pokémon weren't fully evolved. That was very common in most of Kilo, if only because it was natural for Pokémon to strengthen themselves at least to the point where they reached their final stages. Here, he was positive he'd seen Pokémon where the parent was at their first stage, while the child stood tall and fully evolved.
Curiosity finally got the better of him. He had to listen in on some of the conversations. He passed by a few restaurants and tuned his Perceive, entertaining the idea of getting a meal to know the local culture more… but then realized he had no funds. Qitlan had failed to provide any, even when he checked through the bag more thoroughly. Frowning, thoughtful, he realized that very few others seemed to carry much cash in their bags, either. Most seemed to just have something like a communicator and other little trinkets. Somewhere, he missed where the goods were exchanged…
But then, he spotted a signpost near the far end of one of the dark streets, just past a crowd who'd just gotten out for lunch. 'Now hiring!' He had no idea how much it paid, but he only needed some funds for a quick meal, right? He could learn a thing or two about Cipher this way.
"Um, excuse me," Owen called, raising his arm to get the attention of a very tall Scizor. "Are you hiring for one-day jobs?"
"A day?" Scizor asked. "Eh, sure. Fifty for an hour, five hours."
That was probably an unfair amount, but it would definitely be enough for getting into a decent restaurant. "Sure! What's the job?"
"…You scared of water?"
"I'm fine with it."
"Dishwashing. I'll even throw in a free meal when you're done."
"Oh! Thanks!" Owen smiled genuinely at that, and Scizor motioned to the back room. As he passed by, a little purple cap was plopped onto his head that said 'Dishes.' Something about it made Owen feel a little more dutiful, and he walked into the back of the room with pride.
"Eh?"
Owen was met with the gruff voice of a Feraligatr, slimmer than the one he had met in another life. "Hi," Owen greeted. "I'm working dishes today."
"Sure. Take a spot." He gestured vaguely toward a pile of dishes that still had to be washed, and Owen dutifully got to work. The water was uncomfortably cold, but as promised, he could deal with it. This wasn't as bad as drowning, after all.
And once he fell into a routine, he could finally do something that he'd been hoping to for a while. Such a menial task, not really being watched all that closely, not at risk of being surveilled, suppressed, aura checked… He could only hope the communicator he'd been given couldn't track what he was about to do.
Hello? Owen called. Other mes? Are you there?
Silence. They were too far, weren't they? But he had his power back at a little higher capacity, now. Surely that would be enough, right?
Owen glanced around. He noticed that the station one closer was just under a crystal used for illumination. He wondered…
He projected himself to the light crystal, just a fragment of his aura. It brightened and flickered, getting the attention of the nearby employees, but eventually it stabilized. They stopped paying attention.
He tried again, Hello? Other mes? Are you—
Wah! H-hello?!
Hi! Don't worry! Just me!
You sound like me!
Yes, I am you!
Wait, which you are me? No, wait, which me are you?
Uh… Cipher City.
Oh! How are you…?
I think we can use light crystals to amplify our telepathy.
Oh. Huh.
…So how are things at Null Village? Owen washed the dishes a little more, glancing around. Nobody was paying any attention to him, so it seemed he was safe to go along with this.
Well, Null Owen replied, I think everything is going alright.
Cipher Owen got several flashes of visions that nearly made him falter while washing. He saw an imposing Xerneas and several other Legends. Flashes of voices that stood out in Null Owen's memories.
But, Null Owen went on, the worst thing is probably that… er… Rhys, he's… I don't think he's gone. But, he's—
Dialga. He reunited with him… That's what happened, wasn't it?
Yeah…
It'll be alright. Cipher Owen wasn't really sure how true that was, but 'Rhys' was with Dialga. And Dialga was fine. That meant Rhys was fine, right? What are you guys focused on right now?
Well, we're about a quarter of the way to East Null Village. That's where Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf are. Oh, and Eon's coming, too, so, Jirachi's also there.
Cipher Owen's flame crackled once, earning a glance, but he smiled nervously to disarm the other employees. He had to keep his emotions in check.
Do you know about what happened to Wishkeeper? Cipher Owen asked.
Yeah. There was a graveness to his voice. Gahi and the others don't like it, either. I don't think any reunions are going to be pretty. But a lot of Legends didn't reunite when they wanted, so I think it'll work out, for now.
What do you— But then, he got an update about Giratina and Madeline, and news of Yveltal and Step. Two failed reunions, for one reason or another. So, the mortal halves were not necessarily helpless to the Legend half? Or were they just being nice?
The Trio of Mind didn't have the best track record when it came to asking to erase someone.
Please be very careful, Cipher Owen urged. Okay?
Um… right. Okay.
Cipher Owen squinted. Was… he skeptical of himself? Was that possible?
I'll try to keep you updated. Light crystals, right? I'll try those more.
You don't have to hold them, either, Cipher Owen added. Be careful, alright? Tell me if anything's going wrong.
Sure. And good to hear from, um, me-you!
Yeah. Good to hear from you-me, too…
He decided not to go over the details of his game with Qitlan. It wouldn't help morale. He could let him know later, when he didn't need all of his resolve to deal with the Trio of Mind.
Owen grabbed the next dish but only reached empty air. He blinked and looked at the pile of cleaned dishes, and then the empty pile before. "Oh. Where are the rest?" he asked.
"That was all of 'em."
"Oh."
"Heh, don't worry. Now you get to relax a little. Look busy and they won't give you a new task."
"But can't I spend that time doing something else?" Owen asked, which earned a look back at him like he was an idiot. He shrank back, murmured, "I'll go ask…" and skittered off.
He walked out of the kitchen and spotted the person working the front. But before he could, someone headed into the office and Owen realized that was probably the actual manager.
"Um, excuse me," Owen said, catching the Floatzel just as he entered the office.
"Eh?" He looked back.
"Are you the manager? I, um, I'm doing a one-day employment."
"Oh, yeah, told me 'bout that." Floatzel nodded. "Want your pay?"
"Oh, the shift isn't over yet," Owen replied politely. "I was wondering if there was something else I could do. I finished the dishes."
Floatzel tilted his head, as if surprised and curious. "…Sure. Clean under the tables." He gestured to a closet that had cleaning supplies inside. "What's your name?"
"Smallflame," Owen replied.
"Heh. Name doesn't fit anymore, does it?" He gave a polite nod and headed into the office.
It had been a spur of the moment decision, but he figured 'Owen' may have been a name to watch out for in public.
Cleaning the tables turned out to be a lot grosser than Owen thought it would be. The things he'd found stuck under the table made him wonder what kinds of horrible acts could have led to them being stuck there in the first place, let alone what species had been responsible. He tried to distract himself from a bit of gunk he had to soften and scrape off. The light fixture above him was another crystal, so he took the time to channel his thoughts to someone else.
Hello? Necrozma? Are you there?
No reply for a while, so Owen sighed and kept cleaning the tables. The tops were much more tolerable.
…Owen…
He kept calm, taking only a breath through his nose. At least this part of the table didn't smell.
You still have to recover a lot of energy, don't you? That's okay. I'm just saying… I'm sorry I snapped at you. It was a lot for me. A-and I'm still mad about it! But… we can talk about it later. Okay?
…Okay… Thank you. It is… a relief, for…
Just rest. I get it.
He didn't get anything after that, but it was enough. He felt a little lighter.
Eventually, all of the tables were done, and during that time, he'd seen a few Pokémon pass through the restaurant to order something as takeout. Despite the poor conditions of the front of the restaurant, it seemed the food was at least decently prepared.
"Hey," the manager called, and Owen perked up.
"Huh?"
"Lunch break." He gestured to the menu. "Pick something that's a hundred or less. Doesn't look like you have any food on you."
"Oh! Um, sure!" He hastily approached the menu and looked over all the items. He eventually settled on what looked like a simple plate of meat and rice. "Say, um," he said after placing the order, "where does the meat come from?"
"Legal sources."
That was possibly the worst answer he could have been given.
"Most of it is synthetic, so if you're one of those ethics warriors, I'll make sure you get it from that pile."
He decided not to kick up a fuss and nodded quickly. He wondered if he should ask. Did they have farms here? How did they 'farm' in the Voidlands?
…Did ferals get stuck in the Voidlands, too? No, of course they did. He was here. And Enet had been, too.
"Thank you," Owen finally said, and then awkwardly walked in the back to see the others on their break as well, sitting in a back room eating their meals.
"Oh, it's the little guy," commented a Blaziken with a little smirk. "What, still coming back from a death?"
"Yeah, actually," Owen said with a nervous titter.
"Nah, happens to the best of us," Blaziken assured him. "I died eighty years ago, I think. Eighty and counting. Eventually got back to standing at my full height."
"Congratulations on recovering," Owen replied automatically. "I'm just, uhh, finding my feet."
"Well, good luck. You'll probably find some odd jobs to do to get your footing. There are some shelters you can go to, y'know. Gonna bother with that?"
"I have a shelter," Owen replied.
"Good. Figure they would've pointed you in the right direction anyway."
"How come?" Owen asked.
Blaziken shrugged. "Keep more Void Shadows from appearing, I guess? If they send you off, you'll just become another problem in the forest."
"Oh, right…" Maybe Cipher City's friendly policies in public had to do with keeping that problem under control…
"Got any memories?" Blaziken asked as Owen took a seat.
"Yeah, I think I have all of them, actually," Owen said.
There was a hint of an amused, sad smile in Blaziken's eyes. "Died recently, and you think you have 'em all, huh? Well, sure. Maybe you got lucky."
Owen could tell he didn't believe those words. That was the fate of those who weren't fully evolved, was it? It meant they'd died recently… and, therefore, lost a lot of themselves to Dark Matter.
"Y'know, that's not always true," commented the slim Feraligatr from before. "I heard that if you can really get Mhynt mad at you, she'll just dust you right there."
Owen flinched. "She'll what?"
"Seen it myself once. Some drunk thought it'd be a good idea to harass her, not realizin', y'know, who she was. She tapped him right on the snout and his whole body turned to dust! Except, in the middle of the pile was a real sobered-up first-stager. No memory loss, but he was down to zero just like that." He shook his head. "She's a scary one. Mhynt. One touch and that's it."
Owen gulped. He hadn't seen that power from her before. Would it work on him, too? She could have done that to a lot of people… Maybe she was holding back? But why? Or maybe it didn't work on someone with blessings… Too many questions, too many risks. Maybe when they talked, he could get an answer.
"Smallflame!"
Owen perked up. He briskly walked ahead to see a small box of food, which he gratefully took and walked back to the others, smiling.
He just noticed that not very many others had a meal from the restaurant. Feraligatr, in particular, smiled wryly. "Lucky you're a one-day worker," he said. "You get sick of the food real fast, spending all day smelling it."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Owen said. "Uh, I'll eat a little away."
A few shook their head politely, but more of them seemed grateful, so Owen followed through. All things considered, the food was greasy, heavy, and a little too spiced… but it was also the first good meal he'd had in the Voidlands in a long time. He almost giggled, and some of the workers stared with fascination.
"Wow. You must've been out in the wilds for a while to like that junk," remarked one in the back.
"Junk? But you work here!"
"That's how I know it's junk!" And several more laughed with him. Owen tittered along, but finished eating anyway. Eventually, though, he was done and made a little bob of his head. "It was good," he informed them, and as he reached for his bag to get ready again, the little badge fell out of it. It had been stuffed inside without much care, so Owen quietly chided himself as he placed it more carefully inside.
He folded the disposable box and glanced around for a bin for trash, finding it quickly, and waved his tail. He didn't really need food anymore, but it was oddly energizing to have a meal anyway, heavy or not. He wasn't sure how long breaks usually lasted, so he spun around to look at the others. "So, when do we get back to work?"
"R-right away," Feraligatr said quickly, standing up. He wasn't even finished eating. All of the others followed suit.
"Wait, huh? You aren't finished with your meals yet." Owen didn't want to be rude, but he focused on his Perceive. All he could see were half-empty bellies and tense muscles from all of them, and some of their eyes were focused on his bag. What had…
"Nah, we took too long anyway. Break time's over," Feraligatr said.
"Is this about the badge I have?" Owen asked.
"No! No! We're always like this," Feraligatr explained, and despite being calm, there was a hastiness in his voice.
"Look, uh, I'm saying, officially, that you guys can still take a break," Owen said. "I'm just a fast eater. Promise!"
They all looked calm, but their hearts were racing. That little badge was giving them so much fear. An icon of status. If Owen had to guess… it gave him a lot of authority.
He felt so… dirty.
"I, uh, I'm going to head out. Sorry for scaring you," Owen said. "Really, nothing bad will come from this. Okay? I, uh, I'm just…" Every word he said was just making them more anxious. "Just don't worry. Everything is fine." He stepped away, and started to head out.
"Uh, hey?" called their boss. "Wait! Uh, done already? Don't forget your pay! Half-day, I guess…"
Owen halted. "Oh, okay," he said, feeling awkward and all out of place. He couldn't make eye contact.
"…Hey, if you were just working for your next meal, er… you were pretty good at your job. If you wanted to be a full-time hire…"
"No! I'm just fine," Owen replied. "I'm testing the waters for, uh, a bunch of jobs before I settle on one. For… practice. Trying to remember what I used to do." The lie came so easily.
"Oh, I get it." He nodded sympathetically. "Well, alright. Where's your ID card? I'll swipe it to give you some money."
"ID card?"
"Usually a card, or a badge, some people use a badge if they're stylish…"
His heart sank. "I lost mine," Owen said. "I'll ask for another, though. Didn't know pay goes through those."
"Ahh, hey, it's alright…" But there was a twinge of annoyance in the Floatzel's neck. "I'll get you some hard cash."
He just wanted to leave. He could tell that the employees were hiding behind the wall, listening with pounding chests, and he hated it. He was sick. His guts churned with his recent meal. He could see his own muscles tensing uncomfortably, ready to churn it right back out if he got too upset.
"Here." His one-day boss placed two coins and five smaller ones on the desk, which Owen quickly shoved into his bag.
Owen bowed politely, shakily. "Thank you." And he left before he could get any more questioning. Even as he left, he could sense their rapid relief.
Just like that, he was associated with Alexander. Another of his underlings. Someone elite that they couldn't mess with. He could probably get away with anything in the city and they'd just let him.
He didn't want to be out in public anymore. Not like this. He had to go back. Hastily, Owen made for Cipher Castle again, too disgusted with himself to look back.
Everything was a little too small for Rayquaza. A tiny tea kettle, a tiny beanbag he decided instead to coil around, a tiny room that he was thankfully able to enter by slithering through lengthwise…
Elder's abode, temporary and only recently furnished, was built for someone of the giant Torkoal's size. But even someone like him was small compared to most other Pokémon, and that went double for someone like Rayquaza. His emerald scales, he knew, looked black and twisted to everyone else, so he tried to be extra polite to anyone who saw his tail sticking out of the home.
"Ah. There you are."
Rayquaza smashed his head against the ceiling and winced, curling his neck downward to look upside-down at who had talked. "Ah." He saw a steely blue hoof outside the home. "Dialga. There you are…"
"Have you… combined?" Dialga asked, leaning down to peek inside. "Ah, no. You haven't."
"I have not. He passed out when I… told him the news."
Indeed, Elder was asleep in his bed, which was another beanbag, but larger, good to rest his shell in a lonely indent. There was a second beanbag near it, unused but filled with unanswered hopes.
"Rhys…?" The shell moved. The Torkoal within stirred.
"Ah." Rayquaza eased away. "Elder… are you well?"
"I thought I heard Rhys…"
Dialga winced guiltily. "I doubt my voice is similar anymore…"
Elder seemed dizzy, but he tried to shoot awake anyway and stared at Dialga with hope. "Rhys?" he asked quickly. "Y-you're Rhys. You are."
"I am," Dialga replied awkwardly. "You… are… Elder. I remember you. I cared about you deeply."
"Y-you did. You really did. And… you do, right? I-it will… be normal again, yes? Oh, I… perhaps I was worried for nothing…"
Rayquaza knew that Dialga was not the sort of person to lie to Elder. Dialga cared for him, but…
"Oh, it's such a complicated issue," Rayquaza said, realizing that Dialga had gone completely silent.
They may as well have stabbed Elder in the heart.
"I… I—I see." Elder nodded weakly. "I see…"
"I care for you," Dialga said. "And Rayquaza and I do as well. So, nothing will change… don't you think?" Even Dialga seemed melancholy when saying it.
"I'm very sorry for this," Rayquaza said. "This must be so terrible."
Elder was about to answer when the heavy steps of some four-legged beast ran over to them, growling.
"Er—hello," Dialga said awkwardly, raising a hoof when the huge thing ran toward them. It was a fiery Houndoom with an oversized chest plate that almost resembled a skull.
"Lucas?" Elder said. "Oh, Lucas. I'm fine, I'm fine. They are… friends."
The strange Houndoom growled uncertainly and crept past Rayquaza, who waved awkwardly. He realized Lucas was a feral of some kind, so he tried to adjust his body language, moving a claw forward for him to sniff. He didn't seem pleased by the scent, and Rayquaza wondered what a wraith smelled like to someone of Kilo.
"That is Rayquaza," Elder explained. "He is… a very close friend of mine, you see…"
Lucas seemed to understand, but it confused him, based on how his head tilted.
"Hey, hey!" another person called, and Rayquaza slithered out to get a look this time. It was a strange chimera with a Cherrim balanced atop his back.
"Ah, you must be a friend of Elder's, too," Rayquaza greeted. "I'm sorry if my presence alarmed you…"
"We were on our afternoon walk and Lucas ran all the way here!" the chimera said. "I'm so sorry! Um, are you talking to Elder? He's really tired…"
"Ah, I know. I've been caring for him."
"Oh!" The chimera's fishtail wagged. "Well, good! I'm Lavender. Silvally Lavender. And this is Auntie Rim, and that's Lucas!"
"Rim…" Rayquaza squeezed his eyes, trying to remember. So familiar. So very familiar.
"Ahh, Celebi," Dialga murmured. "I think I remember, now… Rim. So glad to see you, er… Hold. Were you not an Espurr?"
Lavender nervously looked down. "Um. I had an accident and turned her into a Cherrim when I put the wrong species in the Reincarnation Machine."
Dialga blinked. "Goodness. That's… quite a mistake."
The Cherrim, bright and sunny and pink in the afternoon sky, smiled nervously and tried to wave it off. "It is… okay," she whispered. "Getting… used to it."
"Well, that's good," Rayquaza commented. "Though, I do sense that you're quite weak now."
Rim seemed downcast despite her sunny appearance, nodding.
"Well, that's alright," he said. "I'm just happy you're alive."
His gaze went back to Elder, who had been so quiet. The Torkoal was laying on his bed again, neck out of his shell, listless.
"Elder?" Rayquaza asked.
Elder wasn't looking at them. "I… I am ready," he said. "Please. I'm ready to reunite."
"O-oh."
An uncomfortable silence followed.
"There is nothing left for me," Elder said softly. "It is better this way."
He lowered his head in resignation, and Rayquaza found himself reaching and leaning forward. Lucas, Lavender, and Rim all seemed confused, while Dialga could only watch with solidarity.
Rayquaza felt an odd pull, a resonance, between him and the Torkoal. But just before he could tap into that pull, he instead pushed past it and held Elder on the side of his head. Elder still remained resigned, but when nothing further happened, he looked up with slight confusion.
"I cannot," Rayquaza said. "I simply cannot."
"What?" Elder asked. "Why not?" He almost sounded insulted, impatient, but most of it was empty lethargy.
"You are just in such an awful state," Rayquaza said. "I cannot in good conscience take you away with that kind of mindset. I would—you feel so awful. It wouldn't be right. I cannot. But…" Rayquaza coiled a little, looking guilty. "It does need to happen eventually. Can't we spend some time? To grieve, to reconnect, to…"
Elder only looked tired and rested his shell on the ground. "I suppose I have no choice," he said. "I do not know how to… reunite. That must be up to you."
"Stop!"
Again, Rayquaza jolted up and smashed his head on the ceiling, wincing as he turned back. He hoped the ceilings were well-formed, because he didn't want to know if he was leaving cracks. "Goodness, you startled me…"
It was an icy Aggron who, despite the temperature, seemed to be fuming. "Do not fall for their trickery!"
"Oh, hello, Step…" Elder squinted. "Trickery?"
"Ah… Step. Or, Yveltal's other ha—"
"You have no proof of that," Step snarled immediately, her thick tail lashing on the ground to leave a dent in the road.
Rayquaza sighed. "I suppose I do not. Such proof is… self-evident in the draw you feel toward Yveltal, and she to you. It is not something I feel… though, I do feel it toward Elder."
Torkoal nodded. "It's an uncomfortable truth," he said. "We're spiritually attuned to these things. Mysticism. I… I know it is true."
The Aggron was about to make another rebuke, but then she stiffened and turned around. She spat a curse and leapt into the air, flying away.
Rayquaza blinked. "Goodness me. A flying Aggron, oho… She's very talented with Necrozma's essence, isn't she?"
"Where did she go?" Elder asked.
Lucas yelped and hid behind Lavender, who tilted his head curiously. "Ooh!" He pointed a talon over Kilo Village's crater edge. "Bird!"
The distinct shape of Yveltal was hard to miss after that. She was flying, looking worried if Rayquaza squinted, over town. Accidentally scaring the natives, surely, which was nostalgic in itself.
"It seems Yveltal is trying to catch up with her other half. Oh, how awkward…"
"Other half?" Lavender asked. "Oh… She's scary. A few months ago, she tried to hurt us. And she covered the whole town in snow, too!"
"Really?" Rayquaza asked. "That doesn't sound like Yveltal at all. She was always so kind and gentle. Really, I always thought that Yveltal and Xerneas should have had opposite roles, but I do wonder if Arceus made it that way so they would be less likely to overuse their great power."
"Huh?" Lavender asked. "Yveltal was gentle? But I thought Yveltal in the Book of Arceus was the god of death."
"Well, essentially, yes. The destroyer. But it's quite rare for a god to be called for destruction, so perhaps the temperament of someone who doesn't wish to destroy would be the best person for that power. And, er, well, regarding Xerneas…"
"Xerneas hated life?" Lavender asked.
"Ahhh…" Rayquaza glanced helplessly at Dialga, who seemed lost in thought about something. "Dialga, can you help?"
"Hm? With?"
"Xerneas."
"I'd rather not deal with him for longer than I must."
"Er, no, as in, explain his disposition." Rayquaza gestured to Lavender's confused expression. Lucas, meanwhile, had gone to keeping Rim warm again, curling around her and licking her face. Faintly, she was smiling.
"Xerneas… dislikes interacting with others. He's disillusioned from mortals because of how selfish they had been toward his life-granting power. He often assumes that those who seek his power are only doing it out of self-interest, and not the interest of others. It truly is a shame, but it makes him reluctant to gift his powers. Perhaps that's for the best. Can't have too many immortal Pokémon wandering about, now can we? Oho… ah. That has been happening a lot lately, hasn't it?"
"I believe everyone here is immortal, yes," Dialga remarked, looking at Elder, then Lucas, Rim, and Lavender. "Ah, Houndoom may not be."
"Should I follow them?" Rayquaza asked, watching Yveltal fly further away from Kilo Village, where Step had likely gone.
"Hmm…" Dialga shook his head. "No. This… this feels like something those two need to work out on their own. Yveltal will be okay. If anything…" He grimaced. "It's the mortal half that I'm worried for."
"Aggron, ah, Step, please!"
The wind swept over Yveltal's face, cold from the climate as well as the ice volleys that her other half was recklessly lobbing her way. She was glad that she wasn't being followed; the path of destruction was only going to get them caught in the counterassault.
"Begone!" Step commanded, firing a beam of ice that Yveltal weaved just below. Step then landed in an open field that was rapidly cooling down from her mere presence.
The chill, despite Yveltal's strength, was starting to get to her. "Honestly…"
"I will not fall for your simple tricks! Where is Ra? How dare you hide him from me!"
"He is exactly where you think," Yveltal said, holding one wing to her chest while the other stretched wide, as if pleading. "He and Xerneas have reunited. He cares for you! He cares for me, because… we're the same!"
"I felt his power," Step snarled. "My children did, too. He was going to smite us had we lingered any longer. I refuse to believe that is truly the god of life. And therefore, I reject you as the god of death!"
Several beams of ice curled around Yveltal, but she did not fly. She expected another volley would strike her from above if she did.
"Please… just listen," Yveltal begged again, her words a little gentler. "Just a little, please?"
"Explain," Step demanded. "Explain how he can be Ra!"
"You can feel it, can't you? You're attuned to spirits. You know he—"
"An illusion of the gods," Step said. "A… trick. A trick meant to lure me in."
"Then where is Ra, Step?" Yveltal asked. She dared to advance, but the Aggron retreated the same amount. "You must know."
But she had no reply. Her fist was trembling despite her immunity to cold. Yveltal knew she'd gotten somewhere. Progress! Oh, but if she could just convince her…
"I refuse to believe he is gone. One cannot… disappear like that."
"He didn't," Yveltal assured her. "He didn't. He cares for you. Xerneas can be… imposing… much like you can be—n-no offense. Truly. But the reason he did not strike you in that way is because he cares. Xerneas is powerful. Far more powerful than before, now that he is reunited and strengthened. Especially to half-souls like us. But you, Step… he would never want to harm you, because… I'm sure he remembers."
"R… remembers," Step said. Her voice lost some of its flame.
"I do not know what you went through with Ra," Yveltal went on. "But I'm sure that was 'him' holding back. Visiting your daughters, even if he didn't completely understand. He is still there, only… part of another. Part of a whole. The Xerneas I knew would… have hesitated much less. Been much firmer."
"Then it will be the same for us?" Step asked, as if her original denials had evaporated. "I will not be as weak-willed and delicate as you? I refuse such… temperament. The world calls for caution and strength, and you have shown neither. How can you be my counterpart?"
Yveltal blinked at that, the great god of death dumbfounded by the words of an ice sculpture. Weak, delicate…
"Oh… Step," Yveltal whispered, taking a slower advance this time. She did not back away.
And for a moment, they seemed to lock eyes. She couldn't pull away. Yveltal's breath hitched. She saw so much fear just then—a primal fear like prey freezing at the sight of its killer. And Yveltal could only feel… pity. Confusion, sorrow.
"Step," she said again, so much softer. "What has time done to you?"
"I…" Goodness, she was shaking now. "I need to be strong. We have an enemy to destroy, we… must. We can use our powers together to destroy them… can we not?"
"Not everything requires destruction," Yveltal said, bringing a wing over her other half's back. Despite how imposing she'd been earlier, she did seem small up close, at least to her. "But sometimes… yes. That is my job, after all."
"And Ra is not destroyed."
"Certainly not," Yveltal said. "The spirit cannot be destroyed. It can inhabit new bodies, it can learn new things, but you cannot take from a spirit. He is there, deep inside. I am sure Ra will be happy to see you again."
Comforting words, and Yveltal truly believed them. And she hoped against hope that Step did, too.
"I… I do not want to disappear, either."
"With how strongly you want to remain… you will not," Yveltal promised. "You have a strong will, correct?"
Step seemed to hesitate then. And in her eyes, Yveltal saw realization and vulnerability hidden behind that icy core. The fear to open up. She couldn't have that. Gently, she pulled her in for an embrace. Uncomfortable to Yveltal—so cold!—but Step was leaning into it. That, above all, surprised her.
"I am… tired," Step finally said. The shaking stopped. "I want to see Ra again. But I cannot abandon my daughters."
"Far from it," Yveltal assured. "They are mine, too. Please, summon them. I am sure they are speaking to you."
Again, she hesitated. But again, she complied. Two motes of light expanded and solidified into ice sculptures of dragons clad in scaly, icy armor. Both seemed pained, but not by any physical wound.
"Oh, kids," Yveltal said.
"W-we haven't been kids for decades," the smaller one said, yet could not look her in the eyes.
"It's just, she's our mom! How can we…" And the larger one couldn't tear her eyes away from the Aggron.
"I suppose a spirit will always move to a mentality they most prefer, deep down," Yveltal said. "The same can be said for us. Step… if you do not wish to abandon them, then we will not. That is how things shall be. It does not need to be the end for you. Now… please. You may rest."
The Aggron trembled again, but she nodded hastily, like trying to rip off the world's most painful bandage. "Then do it," she said. "I refuse to disappear. I… You will face a great battle as we unite. You will… not destroy me."
Yveltal stroked her back, nodding. But then, she looked at her wing, tilting her head. Little orbs of light were falling off of her like down on winter's end. The same was true for Step. Their bodies were losing form. Idly, Yveltal wondered if this was what evolution felt like.
Step was still terrified, but there was no stopping it now. At the very least, Yveltal could make it more comfortable. She fell back into an old practice she did when harvesting a dying Pokémon's spirit, putting them to rest.
She cooed a cold, gentle, wordless lullaby. They swayed to a rhythm that they knew in their hearts, and Step was humming it, too. They were already resonating. The two daughters, transfixed, only watched, fearful, worried, but a little more at ease at the same time.
"I know that song," the smaller one said. Cent. The memories slowly came to her. "It was the one Mom always sang. You really know it, too?"
Yveltal smiled with her eyes, but continued the lullaby. The larger one, Ana, held Cent's hand in solidarity. Step spared them one last glance, seeing the two of them, and Yveltal could feel her spirit embolden.
Good. Yveltal wanted her to persist. Time had eroded her into a bitter core, but perhaps in this moment, when it really counted, some of that kindness had emerged.
Everything dissolved into light, and Yveltal and Step closed her eyes.
Two, now one, took her first breath. Opened her eyes. Looked down.
Her body was now a bright blue, coated in feathers of white and cyan ice. She was still Yveltal, but there was recognition in her daughters' eyes.
"Mom?" Cent asked.
And she smiled.
"Who… are you?" Ana added. The cautious one.
But to that, she frowned. "I will need time to decide," she replied. "But… you are my daughters. That has not changed." She held out a wing. "…We have work to do in the Voidlands. Will you come with me? The Ice Core is still within me."
Apprehensive at first, but ultimately, having no choice, the pair approached. And then, finally, the cold god of death was alone in a field of dead, icy flowers.
Yet, somehow, the world all seemed a little bit warmer. She looked up, puzzled at this, and caught the sun's rays peeking through the clouds and against her glistening form.
"The sun," she whispered. "Oh… I must show it to Xerneas." She stretched her wings, lifted from the ground, and made a wide arc to Hot Spot Ruins.
