Chapter 148 – How Things Change
For Eon, it was just another night. He was surrounded by friends and family he'd found or helped create, and yet he felt like something was missing. Well, no. He knew what was missing. But he tried not to think about it.
In the corner of the room was a perpetually enhanced Houndoom, a variant of some mutant experiment that Nevren had come up with. It kept a Pokémon in something called a 'Mega' form from the human world. Resting atop his warm, black fur was a Cherrim, still weak but strong enough to stand up on her own.
And curled up in the other corner was an amalgamation of different, perfect parts, engineered based on schematics found in the human world, a Silvally as they were called. Much better than Type:Full at least.
This was his family now. In some ways, it was cozy and comfy. But in others, so late at night, Eon always wondered if…
Something shifted outside. A Milotic was slithering, hesitating at the doorway. Eon wondered to himself, was the door locked? Did Kilo Village even have locked doors? He had no idea. He'd never bothered. Gods, that meant he didn't lock it. If it had locks.
But she never entered. Perhaps she was thinking, or waiting. It was obviously Zena—he could feel her powerful aura through the door—but she didn't seem angry. Perhaps anxious. And then, she turned, leaving down the road.
Eon wasn't tired anymore. And maybe…
He knew he'd regret it, but he got up anyway, carefully tiptoeing out of the door. His body nearly shifted to Milotic a few times, but he suppressed it, keeping to Charmander for now. Memories of good times gone by.
"Zena?"
The Milotic stopped and straightened. Then, she sighed and turned around.
"Eon. Sorry for disturbing you."
"Do you want to talk?" Eon asked, losing his form again and quickly reaching for his blindfold—he'd forgotten it in his room. He kept his eyes to the ground instead.
"…Allow me to see your eyes. I don't mind if they are my own, Eon. I understand your… problem."
She didn't mind? But it would make a mockery of her form, wouldn't it? He'd done the same thing once with Amia, and that went… badly. Practically ruined Emily's cave.
But this was different, right? That felt so far away from what he'd do today.
"Alright," Eon said, facing her. Even if he wanted to, there was no way for him to maintain his form after that. His limbs merged into his body, his tail thickened and extended, and soon he was a much larger Milotic, an exact double of Zena. He sighed and said in her voice, "What did… you want to speak about?"
There was a flash of disdain in her eyes. It was a common reaction to seeing oneself, for one reason or another. Eon paid it little mind and nervously waited for her answer, but so far, she was silent.
He filled it with more words. "I'm open for whatever you want to talk to me about," he said. "Please… I'll answer. If… if this is about the mutants, I'm going to help round them up. Put… maybe try to stabilize them. That's the right thing to do, right?"
"It is," Zena said.
Her body language relaxed a little, or, he thought that was what she was doing. Even sharing her body, he wasn't really sure what anything meant.
She continued, "I wanted to ask what you thought about Owen."
Eon tried not to flinch, so he only hummed and nodded. "Owen, right. He's… He means a lot to me, obviously, but…"
He hoped Zena could complete for him so he could agree, but she didn't. She was waiting for his words.
"…But…"
But it wouldn't happen again? But he couldn't get any of what he envisioned Owen as again? But he was horrible to him?
"But it's his choice," Eon finally said. "And if he… wants to stay away from me forever… I'd understand. I'd hate it, but I'd understand. And that's his right."
He decided to speak from the heart. As much as he wanted Owen back, he'd already come to the decision that the 'Owen' he wanted so much was already gone. Long gone. Lost to time and buried in so many new memories that didn't have Eon in them.
"I'm glad you understand," Zena said. "I… wanted to tell you that… I am not sure what Owen would choose to do, either. But I do recognize you've improved. I hope it stays that way."
Eon nodded. "I understand. Sorry I don't have anything better to say, I, err…" He really had no idea how to carry this on. "How… is he, anyway?"
"Owen? Better."
"I heard he'd fainted today." He said it suddenly, but it had been on his mind.
"Oh. Yes, he…" Zena trailed off. "I don't know if it's my place to explain for him."
"Th-that's okay, you don't need to. But he's better now—if he has support from you?"
"Yes. That I can say, certainly."
"Good. Good." Eon shifted his weight. He wanted to say that if Owen needed more support, he'd be there. But he couldn't. That went against what he was trying to do.
"I will let Owen know you wish him well," Zena said, "if he seems in the mood. Perhaps he will be."
Her tone was tentative, like she was trying to mask how Owen really felt. But that could have meant anything. Unable to contain his morbid curiosity, he asked, "Does he hate me?"
"N… no. He doesn't." Zena said it like she'd been trapped.
Eon backed off again. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that sort of question…"
"I think you at least deserve to know that much," Zena admitted. "But he's wrestling with his feelings."
"I won't approach him until he initiates," Eon confirmed. "Even if… that's never."
Zena sighed. Eon didn't know what that meant. But then, she looked almost defeated when she said, "I see a little of him in you. So, knowing that, neither of you are going to let this go until you talk. It won't be 'never.' That isn't how either of you are, is it?"
There wasn't anything Eon could say there. He only swallowed and looked away. That's when his eyes caught the glint of Lavender's eyes staring out the window. The Silvally tilted his head. Zena must have noticed, too, at some point.
"I guess so," Eon said. "We go back a lot, but, when you math it out, we've actually probably spent more time away from each other than together at this point. I, er, I think. My memory of all that is still foggy without Jirachi…"
"That… is not quite true, I think," Zena said. "Owen spent his first life with you, yes. And then a thousand years with Jirachi. After that, another five hundred or so with you that is still a blur for him—"
"Oh, he was… That was when we were recouping from the first Dark War. We don't really know the details of it… but, that must have been when we settled in Quartz HQ…"
Zena nodded. "And then… another five hundred or so years with Amia. Only last year did things begin to change again."
"That's how much you've been able to piece together." Eon nodded. "That's good. I'm glad he's starting to sort that all out. Maybe it'll help me, too, since Jirachi and I are having trouble getting details sorted. We're scrambled if we think too far back."
"You aren't going to merge yet?" Zena asked.
"I'm… sort of a mess. Jirachi's evasive."
"Ah."
She didn't disagree. Somehow that hurt a little.
"Jirachi's fun!" Lavender called from the outside, pulling his head through the window before exiting like a normal person through the door. The Silvally trotted closer and bobbed his head. "I bet when he gets his full power back, he can grant the best wishes!"
Zena smiled a little at that, and Eon mirrored it.
"I don't think I've introduced myself properly to you before," she said. "My name is Milotic Zena. No… Legendary background from me. I used to be friends with Emily, I suppose, but that's all."
"Nice to meet you, Zena! I'm Silvally Lavender. I'm a monster!"
"A-ah, yeah. He, er, one of the… experiments of Nevren, along with Lucas, the Houndoom. Mega Houndoom, actually…"
"Mega… is that… does that mean powerful?"
"It's apparently an official term used in the human world. Nevren took inspiration there when trying to replicate that power."
The heavy-set Houndoom peeked out next, growling at first before Eon shushed him.
"She's a friend, Lucas. Nothing bad is happening."
The Houndoom stopped growling and instead wagged his tail, prancing to her next. A purple-petal Cherrim tiredly wobbled out next.
"…That's your family, is it?" asked Zena. "The… new family you'd formed."
"Yeah. They're my family."
A chilly wind finally blew, and it was harsh against Eon's scales. He winced and curled up. "It's very late and cold. Sorry, Zena, if I've been short with you or, uh, or anything."
"I shouldn't have come so late in the night," she said. "I don't really know what drove me to this in the first place. I just…" She sighed. "…You did truly awful things, Eon. But you're also trying to change and make up for your crimes."
"And I'll need to keep doing that for lifetimes," Eon said. "Even then I don't know if it will be enough. But I'm ready to try. Maybe one day, I'll… be able to bury this. N-no, I… that's not the right word…"
"Atone," Zena suggested.
"Atone," Eon agreed, sighing. "That's… a good word."
Zena turned around. "I'll see you tomorrow, Eon. And… I think I appreciated this talk. Sorry for bothering you."
"I did, too," Eon added, his form melting back to Charmander when she'd gotten far enough away. "…I… think I did, too."
Lucas and Lavender approached either side of him, dipping their heads down in unison to get to eye-level. Eon smiled and rubbed both of them on the beak or snout.
Nothing could replace Owen. Nevren tried, and it failed miserably. But at least he had others to lean on.
The next morning, Owen went on his usual rounds to make sure things were in order and nothing urgent had come up. Nothing ever really did after the world had been given a brief respite, but he checked anyway.
Most had gone into their own fleeting routines before they'd all set off for their separate missions. It was, all in all, a slow day of wrapping up final obligations. Zena seemed to be in better spirits, too.
One of his last stops was checking on Angelo's little shop. He still hadn't looked into much about him. He only knew that he was apparently the son of a very talented Smeargle who had inherited Mew's Blessing. A Smeargle with a malleable aura, vulnerable to strange shifts in energy, but in exchange so readily able to call upon techniques without latency. Owen envied that kind of power, but he'd never taken Mew's Blessing. He didn't think there was any need. And asking now felt… dirty with how delicate Star seemed.
"Hello?" Owen called, knocking on the side of the entrance before stepping inside. He could sense Angelo in the other room, drawing. He seemed calm.
"Be right there!" Angelo called with a tinge of new nervousness. Owen wondered why.
The Smeargle emerged shortly after, looking even more nervous.
"Ah, er…" Angelo nodded. "I'm doing fine today. Thank you, Owen."
"Oh, that's good. Sorry, just doing some final rounds. Last day before we set off."
"Oh, gods, already?"
"Yeah. But I've been so restless, so… But you don't have to worry. You'll be helping with safer traveling on Kilo."
"Right. And thanks to Palkia, I'll have a familiar bed to sleep in at night, too…"
"Convenient, right? Restoring Waypoints will be so important to Kilo. So don't let anyone shame you into thinking you took the safe route. It's important, and not everyone needs to be at the front of the worst."
"Thank you," Angelo said. He seemed distracted by something, maybe a new thought, when he tilted his head, fingers curling subtly. "Have you talked to Jerry yet, by chance?"
"No, not yet. He's close to next."
"Right, right…" Angelo held up a paw and went into the other room, shuffling through his mess of a room that gave Owen a mild headache mentally sorting through it all. He returned later with a small portrait.
"Could you deliver this to him?" Angelo asked. "It was something that your Espeon friend had commissioned me to draw before, er, the world almost ended."
"Espeon friend… We don't know any Espeon by name, actually," Owen said. "Er, sorry. Could it have just been…" Well, it couldn't have been a fan. Jerry was just an outlaw to most of Kilo Village, at worst, and simply not known prior.
Knowing he used to be a prince was unreal. How thoroughly had the southern history been wiped from the public eye in only a few decades?
"…It must have been Star," Owen said. "That feels like so long ago… Er—thank you, Angelo. It's very nice art, too. It kind of reminds me of the style in Druddigon Cube Ultra, the way you drew it, but… portrait quality instead of a comic page." Owen laughed. "It practically looks like cover art!"
"Oh! Well, thank you," Angelo said. "Sorry if that may not be his preferred art style. I did my best, er… For saving the world, it's the least I can do. Oh, and, er, yes, I'm glad my style is… appealing."
"Yeah. I mean, it's one of my favorite comics!" Owen grinned. "Might be the favorite. A story about a little Druddigon trying to gather all the wish cubes… Well, actually, it's gone way past that at the point where it's left off!"
"Ah! I… I see, you're a fan of…" Angelo nodded quickly. How odd, he seemed tense, but in a different way. Angelo's heart fluttered like he was excited. Maybe he was a fan, too.
But he was getting distracted. With a small smile, Owen said, "Anyway, I should get going. Thanks for the art. Maybe I'll ask for something from you one day, too, if you can replicate its style so well!"
"S-sure! That would… be… nice!"
Such a nervous Smeargle. Owen nodded and left the shop, trying to be polite by not overanalyzing the Smeargle's body language. Maybe he could ask later why he reacted so strangely. He knew what Angelo looked like when he was terrified; this was completely different. If anything, he seemed… emboldened.
Oh, of course! Because he complimented his art!
"Hmm," Owen hummed, spreading his wings to fly and get to Jerry. Conjuring an updraft, Kilo Village quickly became far below him. "A little compliment can take someone far sometimes… I wonder…"
Jerry had been given temporary housing in Yotta Outskirts, too. It was small and, from what Owen could tell, he preferred roosting on the rooftop instead.
"Jerry!" he called.
"What?" Jerry shouted back.
Owen leapt into the sky, updraft carrying him higher, until he landed on the sturdy rooftop. First gingerly, then fully once he was confident in the roof's structure.
"I wanted to give you this," Owen said, handing it over. "From Angelo. He drew it?"
"Eh?" The Aerodactyl looked incredulous, but then recognition flashed in his eyes. "Oh, that was… before everything fell to—right, uh, thanks. Sure." He inspected the picture, and Owen finally got a good look at it. Angelo's painting was so delicate that his Perceive didn't get any details of the painting—he couldn't properly see color with it, after all.
Getting a finer look with it, Owen saw a thin Aerodactyl, much daintier than the one on the roof with him, sitting up against a tree. The colors were light and cheerful. Beside her was a much smaller Aerodactyl, leaning against her wings. Owen recognized some of the subtle details. That was a young Jerry. Angelo really was talented…
Jerry's heartrate had slowed, Owen noticed. More than that, his muscles relaxed, and his posture slackened.
"Star sent this image into his mind," Jerry recalled. "Told me it was gonna be a surprise."
"Do you like it?" Owen asked.
Jerry gave him a sour look. "You don't just ask someone that."
"Oh. Sorry."
"…It's nostalgic." He tilted the picture. "It's been a while. I feel like I forgot Mom's face. But this…" Jerry trailed off.
"…Sorry, I'll leave you alone," Owen said, creeping away.
"Tch. Don't act like I'm some… fragile thing." Jerry seemed more vulnerable than before, body language closing off. His jaw quivered, barely. Owen wouldn't have seen it with his eyes.
Owen was tempted to ask if Jerry wanted to talk about it, but of course he wouldn't. Instead, he nodded and said, "You can't be fragile after everything you went through. Still standing, I mean. Thanks for holding out after everything about us and how… you know, weird we are."
"Yeah, whatever…" Jerry sighed. "And… what, do I say thanks back for something?"
"Do you want to?"
Jerry brought his head back like he'd been offered old meat. But then he exhaled. "Sure. Thanks for… I don't know, saving my wings a while back. With the…" He gestured toward his neck.
"Oh, back at Ghrelle's… poison bog. Right. It's a good thing that seemed to wear off once you got to the Voidlands…"
"Your mom gave me the scarf, actually," Jerry said, slipping his wing claws into a satchel to pull out the same scarf. "Was near my statue."
"In case it comes back?"
"With how crazy you guys are, I'm not taking any chances." Jerry winced. "If I ever see that Ghrelle or her freak Gastrodon spirit-mate, I'm flying the other way full speed."
"Can't blame you there." Even Owen as a little nervous about her.
"Anyway… thanks. I mean it this time." He held the picture a little tighter, but then slipped it gingerly into his satchel, wrapped along with the scarf. "Guess Star isn't all bad. No idea why a god of all creation would be bothering with trying to help just one person, though. When you think about it, they should be doing crazy broad stuff up in… wherever they operate."
"Destiny Tower," Owen said. "I was going to head there next."
"Where the Spire of Trials used to be, yeah?" Jerry asked. "Who would've thought that it was Destiny Tower all that time…" He waved Owen off. "Yeah. Go do that. I'll do my part here at home. Just… get back safe, alright?"
"I will. Thanks. Take care, too, Jerry."
Before Owen left, he had a lingering question on if he should tell Jerry about his ancestry.
He decided to keep this as a good moment for Jerry instead and left.
Owen stared skyward at the impossibly tall tower as a normally-sized Charizard. At the top was the realm of gods, the ascent that could only be attempted once before the true reward would be locked from them forever.
Owen had climbed this tower once and succeeded with his partner. But today, it seemed it did not behave as a realm for spirits to fight back against intruders. Now, it was just the home of Star and Barky.
The first floor had been turned into some kind of welcoming lobby. Nobody waited there except for a simple signpost with instructions on where to leave mail and how to place it. It was oddly firmly worded. Owen, however, was more interested in the central sigil on the ground, normally inert. But when he approached, that sigil—resembling Arceus' wheel—lit up.
"So, it still remembers me," Owen said with a little smile. He stepped on the center platform and focused, expanding his aura into the sigil and thinking about the top floor, but only for a moment.
He considered something else. He thought about another room. Not quite the top, but close to it.
White overtook his vision, and for an instant his Perceive was scrambled, and then the vertigo disappeared. He stood at the end of a hallway that led to several other rooms, and the altitude felt higher. The air, just a little thinner. Thankfully, the tower itself helped to regulate some of that pressure, or he'd feel a lot worse than a little dizzy.
Out of respect for privacy, Owen removed his horns and kept them in his bag as he walked down the hall. He wasn't sure who was inside at this time, but he wondered…
One door, two, three, fourth door, on his left. He turned and stared at the unremarkable entrance, then held his palm forward. A sigil of flames appeared, and the door slid aside.
Gods, it was just like he'd left it.
Oversized furniture lined the large room, about twenty paces from the door to the farthest table, which was taller than he was. He walked through the recently dusted and polished wooden desk, the shelf whose highest levels were too far for his arms to reach, and then opened one of the lower drawers to find an old notebook of faded paper. It looked like it had been restored, possibly by divine means. He flipped through the pages, memories flooding back to him from the touch.
So many reports, so many logs of wishes approved and denied. Energy expenditure, findings of which wishes had the greatest impact for the least work. He'd made it a pet project to help Jirachi's wish granting have a wider reach, sifting high-effort wishes with low impact from the others. Worked with Xerneas, Yveltal, and sometimes—with hesitance—Palkia to offload that power with more manual work. It wasn't like they did a whole lot on their own. They were emergency gods. They could afford to spare a little power in their off-years.
World went fine without them anyway. Mostly.
Owen put the notebook back for now and opened the drawer opposite to it. Something clanged and clattered inside. He tilted his head, pulling out the first thing that caught his eye—a little glass sphere that had glittery orbs floating inside through some idle energy. When Owen focused, they spun a little faster, like bubbles in a current.
Someone stepped a little loudly down the hall. A calm stepping that was deliberate to get his attention.
Walking past and then turning to the entrance was Arceus' daughter, Leph. Smaller, a little thinner, and with kinder eyes. But she inherited his sternness, even if it wasn't a true bloodline.
"Hi," Leph said.
Owen nodded, and then the connection finally reestablished itself. "You made this," he said, holding up the little cosmic trinket.
"Oh, y-yeah." Leph looked down. "I sort of… just like to make little things with divine power. Even if they're useless. It's nice to look at."
"Yeah. I liked it. The way it spun… I like how it interacts with my Perceive. Helped me practice not getting overwhelmed."
"Is that why you, er, don't have your horns right now? Were you cursed?"
"Oh, uh—No, I just took them off. I can't turn them off, so that's the next best thing."
Leph looked taken aback. "That's a bit brutal, isn't it?"
"Uh? I can just snap them back on."
"What?"
As if to demonstrate, Owen removed them from his back and put one back on with a little click.
"…Palkia experimented on you."
"Y-you could say that."
"Can you not turn it off?" Leph asked.
"It's kind of stuck on."
"Perhaps I could help…"
"M-maybe later. This works for now." Owen held up a hand. "Anyway… Er, did you want to talk about something?"
Leph only stared. With his half-Perceive, he had a vague sense that she was tense. "Do you remember anything?"
Owen put his other horn on and looked through the rest of the shelves with his Perceive. So many little baubles and trinkets that he kept…
"Some of it is coming back to me. But it's a lot to sort through. I do remember helping to raise you. I remember you were born as a proper god of this world. That when your father and Star created this place, two gods in their likeness had also been born under the Tree of Life to lead things once the world reached its maturity, or something. And that maturity was only a few years after it had been created. Star and Barky seemed happy and surprised to raise you…"
"You were my uncle," Leph said. "Sure, you were busy with Jirachi and being Wishkeeper all the time, but…"
"You spent your days with all the Legends, didn't you? Getting to know them…"
Leph nodded. "So, you remember?"
"I remember… some of the facts," Owen said, his heart sinking at the hope in her eyes. He wasn't really sure if he could truly feel how she wanted him to feel right now. He'd lived too many lives, made too many new connections, for these old ones to… settle.
Was this how he felt about Rhys? About Amia?
Was this how Eon had felt about Owen before?
"How's Aster?" Owen asked awkwardly.
"He's fine. Tired. Recovering. Kind of… scared."
"Oh."
He couldn't ask to see him, could he?
"Um, good luck finding Necrozma," Leph added. "…You'll… need it. It's bad down there, and I don't… want to go back."
"That's fine. You need to help here on the surface."
But Owen didn't need Perceive to sense her shame.
"Really, Leph," Owen urged. "You've been through enough. You need strength from Kilo, not the Voidlands. Let some people who have more light in them handle it down there."
"Yeah."
"And tell Aster the same, alright?"
"Yeah."
She stood aside as Owen walked past her, but he gingerly placed a hand on the base of her neck. She didn't flinch. In fact, she leaned against him.
"You're smaller," Owen remarked.
"I kind of like it that way. In here. Too cramped at full size."
Owen nodded, but then looked back. "I guess my oversized room helps, huh?"
"You were huge," Leph muttered. "Really, why do Pokémon react that way to divine power?"
"Big energy, big body?" Owen asked with a nervous smile.
She giggled and walked down the hall; Owen went the other way, but he'd forgotten to take out his horns. He could sense someone in another room focused on the hall, listening, attentive, but too nervous to speak out. But he knew the body language to tell she was conflicted.
And so was he. With a sigh, he decided to break the ice, and once Leph headed into her room again, Owen approached another door and quietly tapped his claw three times against it.
The person on the other side watched, staring, paralyzed. Didn't want to get up. Instead, she only stared again, trying to decide. Owen didn't do anything; he didn't want to pressure her.
Then, he Perceived her gesture for him to come in. Was the door unlocked?
Owen pressed his palm against it and focused. The door reacted, forming a sigil of some kind of double-helix, and slid aside.
Star's room was brightly colored and had countless old drawings from mortals plastered on the wall. Eighteen bowls adorned the walls on individual shelves, each one filled with symbols of the elements. Eternal woods in one bowl, candle wax and kindling in another, dragon scales and incense that burned blue in a third, and so on. In the very back was a large bed with a tiny god curled up in the middle, staring at him, silent, trembling.
"Hey, Star," Owen said, keeping his voice gentle. "How are you feeling?"
She looked exhausted. She'd been just fine during the meeting, but he knew she'd been struggling to keep it together. This must have been one of her bad days. Bad hours. Maybe even a bad moment. A part of him wondered if he should wait to see her again, but he knew he may not have that opportunity for a while. The Abyssal Sea waited for him tomorrow.
He decided to take it as far as he could without scaring her. "May I come in?"
She nodded, curling a little more. That wasn't a good sign. But he couldn't back out now; she'd take offense. He stepped over, but didn't close the door. She wouldn't be trapped with him. He made sure she could clearly see the exit as he walked, following the walls and not directly to her, sitting near the bed and never taking a direct route to where she rested. All of those things at least didn't make her more nervous.
"I just wanted to pay a visit to see how everyone was doing," Owen explained to Star, who didn't nod, but she was attentive. "Just get some words in before leaving for the next part of our mission. We're all ready, physically. I just wanted to say goodbye in case it would be a while."
To that, she nodded in understanding and opened her mouth, but the words couldn't come. She seemed trapped and confounded by herself.
"I wanted to thank you. And to apologize for what you went through in there."
She winced, looking pained, and Owen silently chided himself. Bad move. He couldn't remind her of there.
"Sorry. Just, thanks for being so strong," Owen said. "It's okay. You don't… need to think about it, Star. I understand."
Again, she felt like she wanted to say something.
"Star?"
But the words couldn't come.
So small and vulnerable. Tiny and helpless. Small parts of Owen's primal, mutated psyche conceptualized what that would mean if they were opponents, but he was all too practiced in pushing those thoughts aside.
"Are you cold?" Owen asked.
He wasn't really sure. He couldn't quite sense temperature with Perceive, but he could tell how her body reacted to things. She was probably cold.
She flinched a little at the question, but in surprise rather than horror. She nodded, glancing at a blanket she'd tossed aside. She could easily retrieve it with some psionics, but didn't.
"…Would you like me to hold you?" Owen offered, perplexing Star more. She didn't object, but something kept her from nodding. "It's okay. I don't mind."
Now puzzled, and maybe curious, the Mew reached out. Owen did the rest of the work, gently reaching a single palm over so she could grasp him and curl around his palm. Then, he slowly, slowly moved her to his chest, folding his wings over her.
She leaned against his scales, and then closed her eyes. Owen wondered where Hecto was in all this, or if he was busy with everything. Could he even spare one copy for her?
That seemed like a bad question to ask. "That's better," Owen said. "It's alright, Star. You… are just having a bad day. It'll get better."
Owen didn't know the full details of what they'd done to Star, and he wasn't about to ask out of respect to her. He only could guess, from how Spice described her room as littered with empty seeds and a horrible smell that had lingered in the air.
At least she was relaxing. Owen decided he had a little extra time to spare, knowing his conversation with Barky was probably going to be a lot faster anyway.
"I'm sorry," Star whispered.
Finally, she'd talked. Her voice was frail, but Owen could tell it wasn't an act, as suspicious as he had been for many days. But now, holding her, sensing her energy, hearing her voice, there was simply no sign, even from his Perceive, that it was an act. And while he felt justified in having doubted her, he also felt guilty in that moment that he had.
"Sorry?" Owen asked.
Star curled up more. "Everything. The world. I… made Dark Matter accidentally. It was me, wasn't it? He wasn't lying…"
Those strange machines in Orre had corrupted Star to the point where even after she was freed, her lingering fears had created Dark Matter in the new world that had been formed. That was the most likely reason for all of this, the whole reason Kilo had Dark Matter at all.
Her face was wet.
"You couldn't have known," Owen said. "But… you should be careful with it next time, if… you do. Which maybe don't. No new worlds."
Another long silence. It was a little less tense. Owen didn't say he forgave her, but maybe the way he worded things helped anyway.
"For controlling you," Star went on. "For using you. For the Guardians. For the Hunters…"
That was… harder to forgive. But he couldn't allow himself to hesitate. "You won't do it again?"
"I pr…" Star trailed off, and her body had tensed with… Owen wasn't sure. Fear? It wasn't quite fear. Some of the muscles weren't reacting the same way as fear.
Star raised her little paw up to Owen. Her big eyes had a determined look, but it was fake. The gesture, though, was very real. Golden lights trailed around her paw.
"I… I Promise," Star whispered. "I Promise I'll never control you again."
But she never did Promises. Star… didn't. She feared those, for what it might do to her.
"Star… don't do this just for forgiveness," Owen whispered.
"Please."
She held her paw forward again, trembling, like she wanted to pull it away. Owen thought about what that meant; the Promise would only go through if they were truly on the same page. That Star wouldn't Reset him. Wouldn't manipulate anyone else into Resetting him. Wouldn't try to overtake his body. He would be free from her authority.
Owen thought he would be taking advantage of her by agreeing. But despite this straightforward Promise, how clearly it only benefited Owen, he sensed a strengthening resolve as Star's impulsive offer lingered in the air. She wanted it, too. It felt like she had more than one reason, and he didn't fully know.
But there was absolutely no drawback to it for him. If Star was so sure…
Owen held a claw forward, half-expecting the Promise to fail because they weren't thinking of the same conditions.
"I accept."
Divine light flared between them and a shock ran up Owen's arm, sinking into a gentle warmth in his chest.
Star rested her head against Owen and laughed a little. Her eyes fluttered closed, and then she whispered, "Thank you…"
Owen still felt guilty. But when Star finally fell asleep, she seemed oddly peaceful. Like she'd repented. Owen wanted to say it wasn't that easy, but… was it?
He now existed beyond Star's control. A whole third of the proper pantheon could no longer touch him.
Had Star been on his side all along… and simply was going about it the wrong way? How many others were like that?
After gingerly setting Star back into her bed, making sure she was warm and comfortable, he left the room. The door slid closed when he did.
Nobody else was there. For the best. It was time to see Arceus himself…
But nothing was really simple anymore. When Owen emerged on the top floor of Destiny Tower, a cold high-altitude wind whipping against his scales, he saw not only Arceus, but a Treecko standing and overlooking the horizon. Having half a mind to turn back to leave, Owen instead braved the encounter with a heavy step to announce his presence.
"Owen," Mhynt greeted. "Welcome. We were just enjoying the view."
"Bar—er, Arceus let you up here?" Owen asked.
"She fought her way through in the morning," Barky explained. "As it turns out, already possessing blessings and having your spiritual forces depleted makes for a fairly easy climb."
"In the end, it's basically cheating anyway," Mhynt hummed. "Here to do your final rounds before departing for the Abyssal Sea?"
Owen nodded. "Just wanted to ask if you needed anything."
"I am fine. Good luck in the Abyssal Sea, Owen." Barky glanced down at Mhynt.
"I will be coming with you," Mhynt said, tapping her foot. "I feel that I should meet Necrozma myself as well. We have a lot to talk about. And I simply cannot stand a second without you." Mhynt rolled her palm toward the sky and smirked at Owen.
"A-aha… right… er… Zena's going to be there, too…"
"Oh, I know," Mhynt replied. "I plan to give her some competition."
"That's not—"
"And frankly, you need my protection. Even without powers of Shadow working properly anymore, I'm still more than capable." She flicked her wrist, and a new blade formed, this one of light with a dark core that traced along the sharp edge.
"Well… Right. Thanks, Mhynt. And thanks, too, Arceus. I checked on Star. She's doing… better."
"I sense her energy within you," Arceus said. "She's been afraid to talk to you. But I'm glad it went well."
Owen nodded. "By the way, where's Hecto? I thought that he'd be around to support her by now."
"Hmm. You must have missed him," Arceus said. "His pieces visit daily, but he has been utilizing all of his resources to search for Dark Matter's fragments. So far, nothing. We're confident it will be nothing, but we must be sure of such things. He has also been behaving… differently lately. I do wonder if it has to do with his memories of Necrozma returning; they were once partners. He'd forgotten him until recently."
Owen nodded, but he felt that was beyond his scope for now. "Right. Well, I'm glad he's keeping an eye on her. She's still very vulnerable." Owen tried not to look at Mhynt, who had probably been in the same building while Star had been tortured.
"Mm. Which reminds me, Owen," Arceus said. "Before you go, I would… like to assist you in my own way."
"Uh?"
"You've been bestowed power by others before, correct?"
"Oh, yeah. Like Rayquaza, or Azelf, when they gave part of their power for me to use against Alexander."
"No. As in… the way you'd acquired power from Dark Matter—sorry, Diyem, and Necrozma. I believe it is suitable for now that I offer a piece of my own to you as well. It may be necessary if you will be fighting Alexander."
"Uhh, maybe can we… wait on that?" Owen asked.
Arceus relaxed. "No Promises this time, Owen. It will help you resist any influencers, perhaps even the Reset Key. You'll—"
"No, because, er… the energy you sense within me. Star… sort of beat you to the punch."
Barky flinched. Then he looked offended. After that prideful reflex, he tilted his head in genuine puzzlement. "Just now?"
"I was surprised, too. But she insisted." He almost said that she also shared a Promise with him, but… Arceus would not take that well. Would he? Or would this be okay to share?
No. They were allies.
"She also made a Promise to me. I—I didn't force her. In fact, I told her no, but she insisted!"
But Barky didn't seem as startled that time. His eyes almost looked… sad.
"I see." He hummed. "Thank you for telling me, Owen. I will take care of her while you are gone, just as others are. But after she gave you that Promise… did she seem better?"
"Yeah…? Why?"
Barky shook his head. "It is nothing. I can only speculate that she wanted to force the temptation away from herself, should it ever come again. Drastic. Spontaneous. She hasn't changed…"
"Hmph. You're obviously feeling guilty for accepting," Mhynt said. "Don't be. Instead, promise you won't abuse that position of yours, hm?"
"Y-yeah. I won't. Promise." Owen nodded. "…I guess… see you tomorrow?"
Mhynt nodded, dispelling the blade and looking out at the horizon again.
"Go and rest, Owen. I'm sure Zena's waiting for you."
Owen winced. "You know if… you ever want to get out there, I could… vouch for you?"
"Vouch for me." Mhynt laughed, half-cringing. "I appreciate the offer, Owen. But really. I don't think you understand how awkward that is."
"Is it?" Owen asked.
Barky had cringed a little, too, but tried to hide it. Futile against Owen.
"Best of luck to Zena, then," Mhynt said with a dry chuckle, waving him off. Deciding to cut things off while he was only slightly behind, Owen stepped back and tripped his way down the stairs.
A spiraling flight down Destiny Tower helped clear Owen's head and cool off his minor bruises from the accidental fall. The extra altitude made the flight back home a lot easier as well, surprised in retrospect at how much faster he was compared to summertime. Being properly unleashed and able to fly with wings and Mystic power… He was at least twice as fast as before.
By the time it was late afternoon near Kilo Village, he landed in front of his temporary home in Yotta Outskirts. Nobody but Zena was around, not even Enet, and the Milotic had packed their few supplies into a small bag and set it off to the side.
"Everything is ready," Zena said with a satisfied sigh. "How did everything go?"
"Really well," Owen replied vaguely. "I can tell you all about it later, when it's more private. We should get moving, huh? They're probably waiting for—"
"We're actually early," Zena explained. "We don't have to go just yet."
"Oh. But we're all pa—wait…" Owen tilted his head. "Oh, well, the bed is still there. I can carry that, don't worry. It's a nice bed; we should bring it with us. Bought it ourselves, right?"
Zena smiled a little awkwardly. "Owen… I left the bed out for a reason."
Owen squinted. "…You needed a nap? Were you training?"
"Use your Perceive, please."
Owen tilted his head the other way. "…Oh. Oh!"
Zena's ribbons wrapped around Owen's arms, guiding him inside. The door closed behind him, and did not reopen for quite a while.
"Oi! They're here!" Gahi announced, disappearing into the mostly restored Hot Spot Cave. Owen wasn't sure if he'd simply moved very quickly or Teleported at this point. On his back was the bag of their household supplies, a recently cleaned bed, and Enet and Charmander, whom they had picked up at Leo's.
"Hey!" Owen greeted with a wave. "Sorry if we took a while."
"Oh, you're actually almost right on time!" Amia called back, emerging next and adjusting her hair. Still blue. But her mannerisms were just a bit different as usual. "You can put your things in Zena's old home, if you like, dear. Will you two be…?"
"Y-yes, actually," Owen said. "How'd you guess?"
"I suppose it would be a mother's intuition," Amia said, smiling. "See, I've still got it!"
Owen laughed nervously and gestured for Zena to come along. As he moved past, though, Amia said a bit more seriously, "I'm… trying to get things back to normal. I remember most of what happened, dear. It may feel like another time, but it still happened. I still remember… taking care of you for so long. Soothing your spirit, helping you have a happy life with all the other Fire spirits…"
Zena was looking at Owen with some concern, and he wondered if his expression was too obvious or not. Or if they simply knew.
"It's alright," Owen said. "I… I mean, I always wanted to talk about it to you. I don't know if you remember… when I talked to you when you were a Void Shadow about what I wanted to ask you about. Your life, and all that. But I learned a little from Dad. Just a little. And…"
"I don't remember it too well," Amia said, advancing a few tentative steps. Owen didn't move away. "But… if you want to talk, we can, dear. About whatever you like."
Owen couldn't find the words. He only stared, mind racing, realizing the opportunity was suddenly in front of him. Zena wrapped her ribbons around his nearer arm. It helped just enough.
"Do you… regret it? Anything with me?" Owen asked.
"Regret… Goodness, no. I loved taking care of you. You were like the child Alex and I couldn't have."
"And… the Resets. That was… that was because you had to. Otherwise…"
"That's how I saw it. I'm… I'm sorry if—"
"No, no, it's okay. I understand, I'm over that part—"
"But it still wasn't right," Amia interjected firmly. By now, a few heads were poking out from nearby buildings, including Alex, who was back to looking like a Hydreigon. He yipped upon seeing Owen and disappeared inside.
"Dad, it's fine," Owen called. "Just… don't go on fire."
While Alex continued to hesitate, Amia continued. "I wish I was more assertive about finding another way. Instead, I subjected you to… five hundred years of that, Owen. So many times you found out, had to be Reset, or died, tried to run away, only to have your ember come right back to me. Do you remember any of that yet? I… it was horrible. Always worrying what would happen when those memories came back. Or worse, if they could come back in… I don't know what would be more terrible to put you through."
And as Amia spoke, Owen felt that she was… more familiar. Like maybe he was talking to an echo of who she used to be, the more she talked about those regrets. That maybe 'she' was finally back, even if it was fleeting.
He had to seize that opportunity. "It's okay," Owen said. "I understand. Like I said, I get it—don't think about it too much for now, alright? We have… we're going to have a lot of time to make up for it later. After we save Kilo… how about we try to be a family for real this time? And…" Owen pulled Zena a little closer, wrapping a wing over her neck. "Maybe with… someone else in the family, too?"
Zena's cream-prism scales reddened. "O-oh. Ah, yes, we… I suppose, we've… taken things more seriously between ourselves."
Owen grinned. "We're mates now!"
"Owen, that's—" Zena sighed, then smiled, defeated, toward Amia.
She only laughed. "Congratulations, you two. But don't get distracted on the Abyssal Sea! It's dangerous!"
"We won't," Owen assured.
"I'll go and set up our room before we go," Zena said. "Why don't you have dinner with your parents, Owen? I'll join you later."
"Sure." Owen nodded. "If that's the case, how about we have an old classic?" he grinned. "Tamato soup."
Amia clasped her hands together and grinned, about to reply.
The sky rumbled; they all turned toward the now open air of Hot Spot's former caverns and into the rift that connected them to the Voidlands. Someone was falling from it.
Manny landed on his feet in a kneel, leaving a small crater in the rocks. He dusted himself off, looked around, locked eyes with Owen and pointed. "You gotta go."
"Uh?"
Demitri and the others emerged from the other room. Mispy whispered something to Gahi, who disappeared into their home and started gathering supplies.
"Is something wrong?" Mhynt asked, emerging next from Team Alloy's abode, along with Trina.
"Good, yer all here," Manny said. "Everyone goin' ter the Abyssal Sea. Owen's team. Gotta go now." He gestured skyward. "Alexander's spotted. He's a kilo away."
