NSO: Chapter 40

7 days remaining

I don't own Pokemon.

The square room was as sleek and white as the Halls itself. It contained a fold-down bed, a bedside table and chair, along with a ceiling-high cupboard. Every edge on the walls was rounded, making the cube-shaped space look even smaller. There was also a circle set into the floor next to the cupboard, a green circle surrounded by a ring of red. That was a teleportation pad, Dialga explained, mainly used for fast travel around the Halls in the case of emergencies or convenience. As both Zenith and Dialga entered the room, its confined space was exemplified by the Legendary needing to shrink down to barely fit through the doorway. A large piece of paper appeared on the wall, filled with seven neat rows of various coloured bars. Dialga pointed to it as he sat on the only chair in the room.

"This is your living quarters, and that'll be your schedule starting tomorrow. It will update itself according to any changes that take place, You'll only need to see it when you wake up, and the only time you return to this room is at the end of the day, to rest. Other than that, most of your time will be spent in the Halls and its facilities. Now, on to a more serious topic…" Dialga gestured for Zenith to sit down, pointing to the fold-down bed, which had lowered itself upon sensing his arrival. The Umbreon, however, chose to revert to old habits, sitting on the floor instead.

"Okay, Zenith. You are a Champion now, and it's time to act like one. I won't be sugarcoating anything any more. You have a week."

"A week? Before what?"

"Your erasure from Earth."

"My… erasure?"

"Yes. A Champion's anonymity is of the utmost importance to them. If someone in the mortal realm, be it friend or foe, recognises a Champion, it could raise some prying questions regarding the Hall of Legends, or even spell disastrous consequences for the Champion's still-living relatives. With an erasure from the world, even if a Champion is captured on any form of media, no one would care about a Pokemon that can't be traced back or identified. No one else will be hurt."

"So… no one on Earth will remember me after a week."

"Exactly. Ample time, if you ask me, Here's a pamphlet explaining the whole process." Another brightly coloured piece of paper appeared on the white desk, which Dialga handed over to Zenith, the Umbreon holding the paper gingerly in his paws. He stared at it numbly, eyes tracing the small lines of words.

Dialga got out of the chair.

"I'll be taking my leave now, Remember to follow your schedule tomorrow." With a flash of black-blue light, Dialga vanished, leaving Zenith alone in the room as the automated door slid shut with a whoosh, plunging the windowless room into total darkness.

There was a light switch on the wall next to the bed, but Zenith's night vision and glowing rings rendered it unnecessary. He sat, motionless, clutching the pamphlet tightly.

Erasure of a Champion on Earth

To ensure that Champions remain a secret from mortals, within seven days of a Champion's arrival in the Hall of Legends, all traces of said Champion will be wiped from Earth. This pamphlet is a comprehensive guide of lists and procedures of the erasure process.

A Champion's entire existence on Earth will be completely wiped from the world. This includes, but is not limited to:

1) All items a Champion has ever owned (e.g. personal items, gifts received or given to others, etc.)
Note: on the fourth day of the week, the Champion may select owned items of their choice on Earth which will be brought up into the Hall of Legends, while the remaining items will be erased.

2) All forms of messages sent or received will be erased.

3) All memories of the Champion will be erased.

4) All forms and sorts of data regarding the Champion will be erased.

5) All leftover traces of the Champion remaining on the Earth (e.g. foot/paw/claw prints, etc.) will be erased.

It was strange. The darkness that surrounded him, its familiar presence accompanying him as he grew up, no longer felt comforting, like a warm blanket draped over stiff back and shoulders. A prickly sensation was running throughout his body, sending tingles from his ears to his tail. The unsureness of his own emotions. The uncertainty about how to feel towards this, and what to do next. They gnawed away at him as he continued to stare at the piece of paper in his paws.

To be erased, to like have never existed before, to be forgotten by anyone I grew up with…

Another involuntary shudder, interrupted by a paw slamming against the wall, curled up into a fist. He didn't care who could hear him on the other side. Pounding, again and again, the stinging pain and repetitive sound soothed his unsettled heart. Gritting his teeth, Zenith let his paw slide down the wall to hang limply by his side. He tore his eyes away from the crumpled paper in his grasp to look at the pull-down bed beside him. A white mattress, with a white head pillow, and a white blanket on top, folded into a neat white square. Clinging to the edge of the bed frame, Zenith slowly pulled himself to his feet, crawling onto the mattress. The pamphlet lay discarded on the floor, crushed at both sides where the Umbreon had been holding it.

Maybe sleep would bring answers.

...

Zenith awoke with a start. Sleep was dreamless, and Zenith suspected that it would be the norm from now on. He knew intuitively that it was fifteen minutes to the start of his schedule, even though there was no clock in the room. He considered going back to sleep, ignoring the mental wake-up call, but he shook off the temptation, rolling off the elevated bed to jolt himself awake.

This wasn't his past life anymore. A new life, with new meaning and a new role. With all that was going to happen in a week, it was probably best to forget his past life, to commit himself fully to his new role, his new purpose.

You're repeating yourself.

It was time to become a Champion.

It was time to try to become a Champion.

Breakfast was irrelevant here, more of a social obligation than anything. The three meals of the day still existed in the Hall of Legends, only carried out by Champions who used the time as a short break to interact with each other. Zenith decided to remain in his room. He wouldn't want to risk getting lost on his first official day here.

The next bar was titled 'Learning with Uxie'. There was no classroom in the Halls, since there was no need for one. This process, the way Champions stayed updated of all current affairs occurring down on Earth, was fast and efficient, provided by the Bringer of Knowledge itself. Zenith saw the pink river spirit appear momentarily before his eyes, and in the following span of a few seconds, information flooded his mind, more than he would have learned in his life. Subjects he had trouble with in school. Topics more complex than he had been learning, and some he had never heard of. He knew and understood them all. Then there was the news. It was like tuning into all the world's radio stations at once. Headlines after headline shoved their way into his brain, Zenith managing to register them all despite not having any time to read each article. He knew that this 'education' would be a daily part of his life, one that he would get used to eventually, that it would probably dull over time, but for now… it hurt. Badly.

The throbbing in his head has barely subsided when a black-blue figure entered his room.

"Hello there, Zenith. How did your first lesson go?"

"Is it always going to be this painful?"

"No. Now, following your schedule, this should be the time where I bring you to the battle rooms for training. But without an eye, an affected depth perception will hinder your combat capabilities. I assume you have ideas to solve that problem?"

"I… I guess."

"Great. Let's head to the Armory."

Zenith sat at a workbench, a blank blueprint spread out before him, pencil in his paws. His mind, which had originally been buzzing with ideas at the first sight of this facility, was now silent. The table was in the middle of a dark blue cube, its colour permeating everything contained within. This was an 'anti-time field', as Dialga called it. A place where time would not flow, so Zenith would not waste any on creating his new organ. The Umbreon gnawed on the blunt end of the pencil, feeling the wood splinter underneath his teeth. He tapped it against the side of his head, grieving. Here he was, with all the world's knowledge of technology, physiology, engineering and more at the tips of his paws, but the blueprint still remained empty, the white grids clean and untouched.

Eventually, Zenith sketched something but immediately reached for an eraser, dusting the shavings away as he rubbed the barely formed sketch out of existence.

Draw.

Erase.

Draw.

Erase.

Erase.

Erase.

Erase.

Erase.

Zenith growled in annoyance as he tossed the eraser to one side, watching the small stub bounce across the table and drop off the edge. The bold white lines were now faint, and the centre of the paper was just one run away from tearing under the friction.

Erase… ure. From Earth.

"Okay, this is hopeless. Not to mention hard to watch." The cube vanished, shrinking into itself until it disappeared, with Dialga appearing before Zenith's workbench. The Legendary's face rarely showed emotion, sometimes only slight hints of an expression, but it was impossible to mistake the disappointment worn all over his face. The Temporal Pokemon toured over Zenith, looking down in the Umbreon, eyes betraying the irritation towards his Champion.

"Go… go take a walk, Zenith. Maybe that'll inspire you again. We'll just have to push the rest of your schedule back. And tell me when you're done, will you? I have more pressing matters to attend to." A swirling portal opened up under Dialga's feet, which the Legendary descended into immediately.

Zenith sat at the workbench, pencil clenched in his paws. Perhaps a walk would help jog his mind into working again. Folding up the worn-out blueprint, he subconsciously moved to place the blue square into his utility belt, only to realise that there was nothing strapped around his waist. The feeling of paper against fur was enough to jar him back into reality. The belt that his mom had bought for him, the one that always round his waist, with its many pockets and adjustable size, was now another relic of his past. It was only an accessory, but for a brief moment, he felt exposed, pushing down an unnecessary urge to cover himself. He knew that the belt could be retrieved, but the fact just reminded him of those immaterial things that would be wiped forever.

There was ample space for Zenith to move around in. The Armory was one huge spacious area, divided into smaller sections by arched doorways that barely touched the domed ceiling. Through these large doorless entrances, the Umbreon had a clear view of the entire room from the very first section. There he noticed the white-blue glow of electric lights, along with the clicks and whirring of mechanised movement. He felt his paws carry him forward, past anvils, smoking furnaces, boxes of excess coal and buckets of water from the medieval era. He pushed past rows of refined hardware and steam-powered tools from industrial times, barely noticing them as he drew closer to the reminders of modern-day. The temperature changed as soon as he set paw in this section, the coolness of air conditioning washing away the scorching heat from the other sections. Zenith sighed as he stood in the centre of the 'room', realising his desire to be here, surrounded by high-tech machines and computers. This was the place with the most items familiar to him, and with them came an unconscious urge to return to a time where he felt… alive? Comfortable. The Hall of Legends was a completely different environment compared to Earth, and the Umbreon felt way out of his depth in this place. He missed the vibrant colours of the world, everywhere he looked now was some shade of white. It felt unnatural, and to think that he'd be here for eternity…

I'm overreacting. Just new home jitters. I'll get used to this. Come on, think of something. I can't- no, won't let Dialga down.

Zenith took another lap around the Armory. This time he slowed his paws, taking the time to inspect every label, read the minuscule font printed on every tool, hardware and machinery in the hopes of finding inspiration. But by the time he had come to the final piece of technology in the facility—a 3D printer currently in the middle of its task—nothing had come to mind yet, and it irked him immensely. Where were all those ideas that his brain had been teeming with yesterday, leaping into his mindscape just from a glance around the medieval section? All he had to do was make was an eye, for Arceus' sake! How hard could it be to rebuild one, especially now when he knew everything?

Zenith took a deep breath to compose himself. Everything would happen in due time. Disheartened, but not discouraged, Zenith decided to watch the printer before him until he came up with something.

Okay. One eye. Mechanical, but able to carry out duties like my old one. Maybe even able to do more.

He pictured a real one in his mind, suspensory ligaments and all.

A mechanical eye to replace the one I lost.

The eye began to turn slowly, revolving on an invisible axis as Zenith 'watched'.

An eye.

The red orb began to spin faster.

… an eye.

Spinning faster.

Eye.

Faster.

Eye.

The red spherical blur was beginning to swell, increasing in size as it spun.

eye.

Neither the spinning nor swelling seemed to stop. If anything, it reminded Zenith of Arceus' own attempt to-

eye… i… I still can't let go.

The eye exploded, vanishing from his imagination completely.

He knew that it was only his second day here, that these feelings wouldn't just magically disappear overnight, but the way Dialga reacted gave him the impression that it was expected around here. Other Champions must have felt the same way when they first entered the Halls, didn't they? Surely they had experienced doubts about their inability to adjust when jerked out of their previous ways of life? Perhaps he was the outlier, the only one to feel this way about such an honour. With today's interactions with another Champion scheduled for the end of the day, there was no way to tell.

Dialga already seemed mad at me enough. Maybe I'm not cut out for this sort of stuff. I'll never be Champion material if I don't forget the past. I should probably just-

"Zenith?" An outside voice broke through his inner thoughts, silencing the whispers and drawing his focus elsewhere. It was a Golem, and he jumped in his initial shock at how close she was to him without his knowing. She stood beside him, her rocky shell almost brushing black fur.

"Uh- hi… Gigi, was it?"

"Yeah." Both Pokemon stood in silence, staring down at the 3D printer's timer as it counted down, a resounding 'ding' echoing throughout the chamber when it was done. Opening the glass door of the machine, Gigi pulled the completed product out carefully. Although Zenith had been staring at it for so long, watching the progress of its slow production, it was only now that he actually noticed what it was.

"A… bomb case?" The green hollow rectangle was tucked into the Golem's shell as she turned her head to address the Umbreon.

"Yeah. I make all sorts of bombs. Detonating, deflagrating, really destructive ones. I guess you could say I'm the Hall's explosives expert, or explosives maker, at the very least. What about you… Zenith?" Gigi noticed the Umbreon spacing out again, and a couple of waves in front of his face finally managed to recapture his attention.

"...I'm sorry. Yeah?" He still had a distracted look on his face, one that Gigi would have to be either blind or heartless to ignore. After all, she could remember a time when she wore the same expression.

"Do… would you like to talk? I'm supposed to meet you later today, but I can push the slot forward if you'd like."

"...thank you."

"Okay, Let me just clear up some things first." Gigi retracted her head and both her arms into her shell, more green-brown rocks covering up the holes that he Golem had left exposed. There were a few more seconds of silence, where Zenith looked around awkwardly, still trying his hardest to think of a way to rebuild his eye. He considered whacking his head with the heaviest wrench he could find just to see if it would jumpstart his brain back into action, but a mixture of jumbled beeps interrupted that thought. He could hear Gigi's muffled voice with the sphere of rocks, along with an assortment of noises, mostly differently-pitched beeps and boops sounding out what seemed to be a response. He wanted to press one of his large ears to the shell to try and decipher the conversation, but obviously decided against it. As silly as it sounded, it was almost nice to see that he still retained some part of his past.

You are still every bit of yourself as before, idiot.

A few more lines between Gigi and the beeps, before she popped back out with a warm smile on her face.

"I've sorted everything out with Registeel, and Registeel will convey the change in schedule to Dialga for you."

"That... was Registeel?"

"He's my mentor. I've picked up whatever language he speaks after a few years of training. Come on, let's go!" Gesturing at Zenith to follow her, Gigi withdrew all her external body into her shell, rolling forward at a moderate speed so the Umbreon could keep up with her. It was only a short distance to their next destination, back to the medieval 'era'. There were three long walls found in that first section, with the entrances to the Armory and Lab placed opposite to each other. However, the third wall between those two was barren, hiding a door that shared the same white as the entire place. Only a faint rectangular outline betrayed its position if one looked hard enough. It slid sideways into the wall as Gigi halted in front of it, revealing a room about half the size of the Armory.

The smell of gunpowder hung heavily in the air, and once-white walls were stained grey, caked with the powdery mixture. A single table was fixed in the middle of the room, a part of a border that divided the room into two sides. One side, where Gigi and Zenith stood at the doorway that led into the room, was full of crates and cartons. Bombshells were strewn across the floor, wires and half-complete timers abandoned, shoved aside hastily on the table. This side had grey walls and a filthy environment, while the other was the complete opposite. Walls and floors as pristine and white as the Pantheon itself. Ten identical red tackling dummy-like targets were lined in a neat triangular formation. Light reflected off the targets, each of them gleaming like they were all brand new. The only thing preventing contamination of that cleanliness was a thick sheet of glass placed on the border. Yellow and black papers were taped on its transparent surface, bold font spelling out in capital letters, "DO NOT TOUCH! ONE-WAY GLASS!"

"Welcome to my Wrecking Room! Sit wherever you'd like." Gigi waved vaguely around the room, mainly in the direction of the boxes that were both packed ceiling-high and scattered haphazardly all over the floor. Pulling out the newly-made bomb case, she placed it down on the table, popping it open and stuffing some wires inside, connecting it to something that Zenith could not see.

"Really? Anywhere?" Zenith eyed the boxes. Each one of them had a stamp on its cardboard exterior, black uniform letters printing out the type of explosive and its date of production. Just bumping against a carton, it refused to budge an inch, and the clattering of plastic against plastic could be heard.

"Yeah. They're all safe. I always make sure of that." Despite himself, Zenith couldn't help but notice that the Golem's tone and gaze seemed to harden at the last sentence, as if confirming the fact to herself rather than to the Umbreon. He climbed onto a box to sit on, the large carton supporting his weight easily. He decided to lay off any prying questions, especially to the one that had offered to help him when he had problems of his own.

Shutting the case with a click, Gigi placed it on one side of her table gently, sitting back on a large swivel chair.

"So, Zenith… what's on your mind?"

No response from the Umbreon. He stared at the floor, seemingly lost in thought to the Golem, but Zenith was just feigning ignorance to avoid talking about the topic.

Why do you still hide? Why are you so afraid to open up? You can't keep dodging your problems forever.

I… I don't open up to that many Pokemon. Only Cleo…, and… mom…

Well, Gigi's going to be in the same Halls for… ever. It's time to change, Zenith. You Champions are in this together, after all. It's better to befriend them, solve your issues now than later.

I guess you're right…

"It's about the erasure, isn't it?"

A nod from Zenith.

Gigi sighed in semi-relief. At least this conversation was going somewhere. She didn't even think that he had heard anything she had been asking him until now.

The erasure… even though it hadn't affected her as much, from what she had heard, she knew that some of the other Champions had suffered heavily from it, no matter what Zenith had thought. Maybe it would be better to break this problem down, not so she could provide actual help—she went through too little to empathise with the Umbreon— but if Zenith could get a better understanding of this problem he faced, he would be able to tackle it properly, along with Champions who could help him.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had any time to think about what he was saying. It had felt so long since he had someone to sit with, to share his troubles with another that had probably been through similar experiences.

"I- I'm just scared. Of being forgotten about. By the Pokemon I care about… and the ones that care about me. No one in the world will remember me, or even acknowledge my previous existenc., I'll be stuck, with memories of them, while knowing the fact that no one I love will share the same experiences as I do. To be cared for by your mom, to love her, and to realise that she won't recognise you if you meet face-to-face… it's like losing them. I-I don't want that."

As Zenith hung his head, silent as his emotions overwhelmed him, Gigi felt a tiny pain in her chest, but it wasn't her heartstrings tugging, The last few sentences that Zenith had said in his outburst, they reminded her of a wound in her heart, aching with every beat it took. The wound had mostly healed, but the injury was not one the Golem had fully recovered from yet.

"Well, Zenith, I can say that you're not the only one who went through these problems. Others have been in your paws before, and while I'm certainly not the best to help you through this, I might be able to help in another way."

…

Are you sure about this?" Zenith shifted the orange ball in his paw cautiously, noting its lightness and a red pulsing glow emanating from within. He looked over at Gigi, who was rummaging through another box, pulling out a green oval and examining it closely.

"It's not going to get rid of your problems for you, but it just might be able to take them off your mind long enough for you to come up with an idea for your eye."

"You… how did you know?"

"You were mumbling the word just now. Just throw the ball at the targets."

Zenith looked down, then back at the targets. What did he have to lose?

The ball flew through the glass pane smoothly, landing a few centimetres short of the first target, rolling forwards until it touched the rod of metal a target was mounted on. For a split second, Zenith identified the targets as silhouettes of Pokemon with big, bulky frames: The top half of a Tyranitar, a Snorlax and a Nidoking. Those were the only ones he could make out before an explosion rocked the room. Sand, string and pieces of dark-red leather flew through the air as a cloud of smoke and fire erupted from the small orb, wafting and dissipating into the air. The first three targets were completely obliterated, reduced to charred cinders and melted metal, while the other nines had caught on fire, small flames dancing as they ate away at the tough protective layer. The glass border muffled most of the sound and prevented any flaming debris from raining down on the Umbreon, who stared in awe. So this was what the posters meant by 'one-way'. But as the sand began to settle, fires slowly dying out, the walls started to gleam. The glass darkened slightly to dampen the brightness as blinding white light enveloped half of the room. A few seconds later, the room seemed to have reset itself. The walls were back to their dull shades of white, ten targets once again upright in their original position. Everything was pristine again, all traces of the previous explosion gone. Zenith looked at Gigi, and the Golem had a big grin in response, offering a differently-coloured ball to him.

…

Boom. Fzzzzz. A wave of green sludge washed up against the targets, each of them sinking lower and lower as their metal stands were dissolved beneath them.

"So, how long have you been in here?"

Boom. The screech of bending and twisting metal as the targets were ripped off their poles, being pulled onto the middle of the formation as everything imploded on itself.

"Not as long as the others. I think… only 50 years, give or take. The only ones that arrived after me are Solaire, and you."

Boom. Ticktickticktick… boom. Any remaining targets still standing were impaled deeply with shrapnel, which then subsequently detonated, tearing everything apart in a small flurry of booms.

"How did you feel about your erasure?"

Boom. Frost started to creep along the glass, obscuring Zenith's view of its effects on the targets. He placed a paw on the smooth surface for a while, revelling in its icy comfort before the sensation started to sting.

"I don't think it affected me as much as the others. I lived a long, full life and had a lot of time to come to terms with everything that happened then. I died alone, so there wasn't much left behind to mourn."

Beep. Beep. Beep. This ball seemed to pulse internally with an intense, orange glow, beeping each time before going off. White light engulfed the room, filling Zenith's vision as he turned around, shielding his eyes. Nothing remained when he looked back. Everything had been completely obliterated by this small ball, but it only took a few more seconds for the room to revert to its previous state.

A scene of flaming wreckage, erased in the blink of an eye. Don't I have things I would want others to forget about me too?

… I'm looking too deep into this.

On the bright side, Zenith's thoughts were becoming much clearer. It was satisfying to watch the targets blow up in weird and interesting ways, and the explosion's muffled booms that followed a well-pitched throw seemed to blast the intruding worries away. He knew that they would return eventually, but now, he was just enjoying every bit of the senseless, mindless destruction he was creating.

"Any ideas yet?"

"Enough. Thanks, Gigi."

"Don't mention it. Sorry I couldn't be of much help. If anything, I should be thanking you for helping me test out my new prototypes."

New, huh? Zenith looked at the explosive he currently held in his paw. That explained the various sorts of explosions and effects that he had set off. The one he had right now was in the shape of a doughnut, complete with fake icing and multicoloured sprinkles. The only thing distinguishing this bomb from the food was a small pin in its side. Zenith turned it over in his paw, observing the handiwork. To put so much effort into designing an explosive… Gigi must really be dedicated to her work.

"Okay, just this one more."

"I think you'll like this one." The doughnut was already soaring through the air, spinning like a frisbee. Now that the pin had been removed, Zenith could hear a ticking coming from within. The ring struck the middle target in the 'face', landing sideways as it hit the floor. It rolled hypnotically in circles, the light glinting off every colourful surface before the doughnut finally hit a metal stand and clattered to a stop. There was a pause, the longest of all the other explosives Zenith had hurled. The only thing breaking the silence was the constant ticking from the doughnut, adding to the tension as Zenith and Gigi leaned in closer, waiting for it to explo-

The doughnut shell shattered into tiny pieces as the bomb fulminated, with several buckets' worth of paint and glitter bursting outwards along with the explosion. Sprinkles flew everywhere, reacting similarly when they came into contact with anything. It was a complete mess, with rains of paint and glitter adding to the chaos when they revealed their corrosive properties. At the end, when everything had died down, nothing was left standing. The targets had been blown into smithereens then melted, almost indistinguishable from the floor it lay on. Not a single shade of white could be seen in that half of the room. Streaks of colour covered the walls, floor and even ceiling, along with additional coats of glitter on every available surface. This was an absolute mess, but it sure didn't feel like one to Zenith. It seemed more like a masterpiece, the creation of abstract art rather than an act of defacing a clean room.

Perhaps this was what he needed for inspiration. He wouldn't be able to rely on himself forever.

Zenith was broken out of his awe-stricken daze by the sound of slow clapping.

"Wow. Just… wow. This turned out even better than I hoped. That is-was the first of its kind."

"I like the design."

"Thanks, the idea just popped into my head and I- "

Gigi cut herself off, eyes widening in realisation. Zenith could almost see a lightbulb flicker on above her head. She facepalmed herself quickly, before turning back to the Umbreon.

"I can't believe I only remembered this now. It's your first day here, right?"

"Technically…"

"Then you probably haven't seen this section yet. Come on, follow me!" Giving the colourful wrecking room one last glance, Zenith followed Gigi out, running to catch up with the Golem as she rolled along, leaving a trail of gunpowder behind her.

They were back at the section of modern-day, where the two Champions had first met. She was standing at another 3D printer that was stationed the closest to a big, blank wall of the Armory, gesturing for Zenith to come over. Nothing was being made currently, but his confused look was answered with an excited one from Gigi.

"It's empty."

"Not for long. Watch!" The Golem navigated the printer's interface swiftly using a small touchscreen installed on the machine, scrolling through many options before finally selecting something, presumably to print.

It was like watching a time-lapse video in real-time. The printer worked at blinding speeds, nozzle moving all over the place as layer after layer was deposited on top of each other. The product was churned out in a matter of seconds, and the chamber turned a shade of purple for another minute as ultraviolet light fused the plastic together. There was a 'ding', and the glass door slid open, steam waiting out to dramatically reveal…

"A button." It had a grey rectangular base, with a cylinder protruding out the top. This was a button in every sense of the word, albeit a large, exaggerated one.

"Yeah, but it's a button that does… this!" Pushing down on the cylinder, Zenith watched in amazement as the smooth white wall next to the printer turned translucent, revealing another row of machines that the Umbreon had never seen before. He stepped forward subconsciously and gasped when his snout seemed to pass through the wall, an unexpected icy sensation spreading out from his nose down to the tips of his tail. Gigi laughed as Zenith withdrew from the 'wall', a shiver visibly running through his body. Shaking his fur out to rid himself of the chill, he quickly tried again, stepping through the 'wall' to keep up with the Golem.

Gigi looked behind her to check that Zenith was with her before pushing the button again. From where the Umbreon stood, the wall that he had walked through was no longer there, giving him a clear view of the modern-day section. The second button press must have made the wall opaque again on the opposite side.

"Welcome… to the future technology section!"

Zenith had lost count of the number of times he had been awestruck, and that number wasn't going to stop increasing any time soon. The room was filled with multiple shiny, chromed machines, but the one that caught his attention was the one that stood out the most. A large contraption consisting of numerous odd items. A helmet that looked like ones used for motorcycles, complete with a slidable visor. Wires stuck out from the top, coiling like springs to connect into a large monitor, the back of the screen attached to a movable stand. A keyboard was folded against the side, where more wires snaked out to lead to one of the strangest yet coolest things Zenith had ever seen. It had a large base, like one of an industrial photocopier, but that was where the similarities ended. The rectangular top had a hole where a piece of glass should be, the small squarish pit descending all the way down into the machine. A conveyor belt extended from one of four sides, level with the top and leading to a red tray. The other three sides of the 'printer' were occupied by one jointed mechanical arm each, all pointed towards the middle of the machine, where the hole was. Above the hole, however, were four light blue, translucent rings. They intersected one another, with each of them placed in a certain direction: vertically, horizontally, and in both diagonals, resembling visible paths of multiple electrons revolving around a nonexistent nucleus. As the rings spun in place, the… thing almost looked alive, palpitating with whatever force kept it together. He looked around for Gigi, wanting to ask her what this machine could be for, but the Golem was already one step ahead of him. Holding the helmet out for him to wear. Zenith could see little metal strips pasted on the inside, their reflective surfaces glinting at him in the white light.

"Put this on first. It needs some time to calibrate." As Zenith tried to slip the helmet over his head, two large holes appeared on its surface, widening and closing to adjust to the circumference of his ears, allowing both of them to poke out freely from the headwear. Apart from the metal pieces pressing against all sides of his head, the helmet was surprisingly comfortable, with a padded interior and size that fit perfectly. The monitor lit up with a dark blue glow, white letters spelling out 'LOADING' appearing in large font. Zenith smiled to himself as he noticed the 'O' was a loading circle, the only thing still moving on the screen as it spun lazily. Looks like some problems still existed in the future.

"A quick rundown. This room contains tech a few decades ahead of its time, hence its name. No idea who creates these, but hey, don't look a gift Rapidash in the mouth, right? This machine you're hooked up to will use Mind Reader to take your most concentrated thought and project it here-" Gigi stopped momentarily as she stared at the large screen, which displayed a Vaporeon sleeping soundly on a blue bed, chest rising and falling as she snored softly.

"Concentrate, Zenith. Concentrate on the thing you want to make." A sheepish Umbreon ducked his head in embarrassment, closing his eyes tightly as he focused once more. The Vaporeon disappeared, replaced by the blue background of blueprint paper. White lines curved and bent, melding together to form various parts: wires, glass, thin metal and plastic sheets and more. Everything joined together systematically, items overlapping others in layers until all that was left on-screen was an orb. It rotated slowly, occasionally opening up to separate into individual components so a part could be rearranged or replaced. Many lines of code also appeared in empty spaces of the screen, scrolling upwards at blurring speeds. After ten minutes of constant readjustment and improvement, Zenith pulled the helmet off his head, rubbing his crimson eyes as he did so. He surveyed the blueprint on screen, using its touchscreen functionality to examine it even further, trying to find any mere imperfections or structural oddities. Discovering none, he nodded at Gigi, who walked him through the next few steps.

"Okay, since your blueprint is confirmed, just press enter on the keyboard." Zenith did so, and the printer-like machine lit up, blue light shining from within the hole. The mechanical arms whirred as they straightened vertically, swivelling on their multidirectional joints. A loading bar appeared under the blueprint.

"Now, for the final section. The Assembler will receive materials from that hole on its top, while these mechanical arms bring each part and suspend it there in the small contained gravity field. They'll build your eye for you."

Zenith watched as the 'Assembler started getting to work, the three arms moving frantically as oars were fed to them rapidly, grabbing and placing them in the centre of the blue rings. Those rings probably showed the range and reach of the gravity field. He wondered how something like this was possible. A tiny black hole, maybe? Either way, he was glad that something like that existed. It made the transition from pencil to product more convenient, even if it was till a long process.

A countdown had accompanied the progress bar,

Estimated time until completion—3 hours 54 minutes.

Gigi smiled sympathetically at the dismayed look on Zenith's face, patting the Umbreon's back as he stared up at the screen and its unmoving bar. She remembered when she had first felt the same was, realising that building a product, no matter how big or small, could still take such a long time even with future tech.

"It's too bad, isn't it? How us Champions are still bound by mortal constraints like time. You can check this place out a little bit more if you want, do something to kill time. I mean, there could be a few more secrets lurking around here, right?"

"... right."

"Don't worry about the machine. It'll send you a mental reminder when it's done. I guess I can show you around a-"

Something within the Golem's shell beeped, and she tucked herself inside instantly, the hushed tones of a brief conversation leaking out through the hole her head used to be. There was a click, followed by the muffled sounds of rummaging. The Golem soon popped back out of the stony shell, a thin green square held firmly in her claws.

"Sorry, Zenith. You'll have to take a rain check on that tour. Registeel's calling me back for extra training. Maybe you can call Dialga on your telecommunicator- oh, wait. You haven't received yours yet, have you? Don't worry though. Dialga will come to find you when she's done. In the meantime…"

She?

"... try to think of a weapon for yourself. All Champions need one for missions. And before I forget, here." She passed the case over to Zenith, chickling as he accepted it cautiously, holding it gingerly in his paws as if it might explode at any moment.

"Don't worry. It's not a bomb. It's my Past-life. Maybe you can watch it before you sleep? I would watch it with you, provide commentary, but I really have to go."

Also. I don't think I'm comfortable watching it with someone else... Yet.

With a hasty wave goodbye, Gigi rolled out of the future tech section, turning a corner to leave the Armory through its double doors.

Sighing, Zenith stared back at the progress bar, which had hardly advanced at all. He was alone again, but at least a new friend had been made. He could only hope that the rest would be as welcoming towards him as Gigi was. He could feel the doubts in his mind returning, circling and clouding other thoughts like a smothering fog. Shaking his head as if to try to get rid of them, he pushed his way out of the section, feeling the warmth of the facility envelope knew that ignoring them was not an option, but he couldn't let these worries interfere with his new 'duties'. Gigi was right. He had to keep his mind off these thoughts until he could find someone that might be able to help him.

Without Gigi's help, it was highly unlikely for Zenith to find any more hidden rooms here on his own, but he did remember a place nearby that he had wanted to check out. With any luck, he would be able to keep himself occupied for a while.