NSO Chapter 44

5 days remaining.

I don't own Pokemon.

Zenith lay awake in his bed, watching blue lines of text scroll vertically across his vision while his eye booted up. That was probably the only indication that he had slept. The nights were dreamless, and his body didn't even change positions. He thought his Erasure would make him a more restless sleeper, but the only movements he had made were the closing and opening of his eyes.

This is good, right? I think Dialga said that Champions don't have to sleep.

…Who was he trying to kid? The lack of dreams was another addition to his long list of worries. Sure, they were sometimes ominous and foreboding, but he'd prefer them over his current mist-shrouded dreamscape.

Speaking of worries… Zenith grabbed the crumpled pamphlet off the floor, inhaling as much as he could.

Just have to make sure I can cross this one off the list.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tossed the paper ball into the air, almost heaving a sigh of relief when he heard his heartbeat ringing loudly between his ears. Time had been slowed again, the ball still floating upwards to reach its maximum height. At least yesterday's accomplishments were not a fluke.

But with one question answered, another immediately took its place.

How long can I do this?

It would presumably last as long as he held his breath, so maybe a minute? He took a few steps forward, admiring how thick blue lines trailed behind his darkened rings and bands, the afterglow tapering off into a point at the end.

What about technology? Could he still use that? He stepped on the teleporter, watching the two rings under his paws light up after a slight delay. Electricity or whatever power that ran this place did move slower in this state, although they weren't too affected.

Did friction apply? If he was moving at high speeds in real-time, what would happen to things he interacted with? His breath was short as he grabbed the falling ball. Holding it far away from him, he braced himself for fire when he peeled a crumpled corner backwards.

Huh. Nothing. He unfolded the entire pamphlet, but the paper didn't burst into flames. Maybe objects moved in the same time he did when he held them. Dropping the pamphlet reinforced the idea that it didn't fall to the ground immediately after leaving his paw.

He counted up to 60 seconds of slowed time before the urge to breathe out was overwhelming. The entire process left him quite drained but exhilarated. He could finally activate his talent! Dialga was going to be so proud!

"Greetings, ZENITH. Where would you like to go today? Zenith jumped as the teleporter's voice blared from a corner of his room. He had activated it before, and probably at the right time, too. He innately knew that it was time for Breakfast on his schedule, and Reina's invitation from yesterday floated back to the top of his mind.

The Umbreon tapped the small holographic rectangle that was the teleporter's dashboard, scrolling through the list of places. He almost considered remaining isolated at the thought of facing all the other Champions at once, but it had to happen eventually.

Better now than later.

Recreation room. Well, here goes nothing.

After selecting the location, there was a floaty feeling before his vision was filled entirely with white.

…

"Zenith! You made it!" Zenith blinked a few times, the layout of the room becoming visible to him as spots of white faded from his vision. He could feel the floor underneath his paws again. Reina was racing towards him, a stack of pancakes balanced on one paw.

The Recreation Room was… cosier than he expected. It was bigger than his living space but way smaller than the other facilities. A decked out kitchen to his left. A stack of bean bag chairs to his left. A large portion of the floor before him had been hollowed out into a cylindrical depression, with two stairs for access in and out. At the bottom of his shallow circular hole sat a couch, facing a large television sitting atop a cupboard. The television was off, but he could see black and purple tips poking out from the couch's silhouette.

"Hey."

"Welcome to the rec room. Here, have some pancakes. Better sit here and eat them." Zenith let Reina's paw guide him to the kitchen, sitting him down on a swivel stool. The plate of pancakes was placed on the marble tabletop, and even though Zenith knew for a fact that Champions didn't have to eat…

…he really wanted those pancakes.

"Solaire's in a bit of a sulk." The whispered words weren't soft enough to avoid recognition, and Zenith almost bit down on his tongue as the beanbag pile exploded. An angry Solaire was revealed as chairs flew everywhere, the empty plate in her paws pointed accusingly at Reina as she rose into the air.

"I! Want! More! Pancakes!"

"You already had your share. Zenith needs some too. If you really want more, go to the Bar."

"But there's no bean bags thereee!"

"38 years old, everyone." The Raichu's sarcastic remark earned her a plate flying in her direction. She dodged it, laughing, but her eyes widened when she realised the spinning path the plate was taking.

"Zenith! Look ou…oh. Neat." A wavy line of neon blue still hung in the air. The plate that had been dangerously close to the Umbreon's neck was now grasped tightly in his paw, all momentum lost.

"Hey, you managed to activate your powers!"

"Y-yeah." It had only been a few seconds of slowed time, but Zenith still felt as winded as experiencing a full minute. Maybe short bursts weren't the best way to utilise his gift. Also, with the way Solaire was looking at him, it was probably best to get back to his pancakes.

"Look, maybe you can ask Maganza to make you more the next time she hangs out here." Reina tried to placate the angry Champion, but…

"Yeah, Solaire. Calm down." The voice from the couch finally spoke up, and Zenith swore the Espeon's pink fur flushed completely red.

"You!" Solaire seemed to work herself up into a fury again, bean bag chairs starting to orbit around her like planets. She zipped over to the couch, her levitating cushions flinging themselves at their target.

"You ate most of them before I came here! You—you—you pancake thief!" Void squawked as she was pelted with pillows, falling off the couch at the unexpected attack.

"No one else was coming here today! What was I supposed to do?"

"Leave more for me!"

"Don't mind them." Reina's words drew Zenith's attention away from the bickering. "They're not always like this." She paused for a moment to glance backwards, where Noivern and Espeon had taken to an aerial battle, tossing ripped pieces of stuffing back and forth. "Well, you'll get to meet them soon enough."

Oh, right. He was scheduled to meet a Champion after Breakfast.

"Do you know I can find Maganza?"

"Yeah. She's usually in the library. It's not too far from here, just take a left and a right after exiting this place."

"Thanks, Reina. For the pancakes too."

"No problem. Feel free to drop by tomorrow too. I think more of us will be showing up."

…

Zenith stood in front of another sliding door. He could tell that this was the one that led to the library, deduced by two streaks of ink that formed a giant 'L'. Other than that, it was indistinguishable from the other 9 identical doors on this corridor Reina had directed him to. Knocking twice to be polite, Zenith slowly slid the door open.

A single self-checkout machine lit up upon his entry, but he barely noticed it amidst the whirring within his skull. His mechanical eye had started to shine, projecting a small red spotlight a few metres ahead of him. With night vision kicking in automatically for his organic eye, he hadn't immediately realised how dark it was in here. The room was cavernous in brightness and hemispherical shape, but it was empty save for the checkout machine.

And that neatly-cut square-shaped hole on the ground. That must be the actual entrance to the library.

Zenith slowly descended a flight of stairs, carefully placing one paw in front of the other. The only source of light left was his eye; the others had faded away behind him when he dropped through the hole.

The stairs spiralled downwards. They were the same smooth material as the Hall's walls, making Zenith wonder about the construction of each facility. Who created them? Did they get upgraded as time passed? Who else had a paw in creating these facilities, all so different in structure and style?

So caught up in overthinking, Zenith hadn't realised that he was standing on a moving platform, almost leaping off it in surprise. He was being lowered by a set of clanking chains, into a chamber as pitch black as the room above. He peered downwards, and his light managed to land on something.

Books. Towers of books pierced through the darkness like stalagmites, looming over his tiny platform as he continued to drop. He could make out hardcovers and paperbacks in the mountains of paper, each of their titles written in an assortment of languages.

The platform touched the ground with a heavy 'thunk'.

"Maganza? Wait!" The platform zipped back into the darkness when the Umbreon stepped off, leaving him at a loss for words.

Great. He was stuck here. In the dark. Surrounded by books. Guess his only option was to sit here and wait for Maganz—

"AH!" He had looked away for a second, but there she was, bathed entirely in red light. Maganza. The Cofagrigus was tall for her species and way larger in size. She dwarfed Zenith easily, observing him with beady pupils in eyes the size of his rings. Her mouth full of sharp teeth was curved upwards in a perpetual smile, her four hands stretched outwards in every direction, fingers wrapping around the stacks of books to keep her upright.

"Hi. I'm Zenith. I think I've been assigned to you today?"

Silence.

"So, uh… this is the library, right? No offence, but it's a bit dark here. How do you know where to go?"

"He has arrived, he who signals the end and the start. He who will change our fates in ways unforeseen." The raspy voice sent shivers down Zenith's spine, and the contents of her words were as vague and ominous as his dreams.

Why was this place reminding him so much of his mortal life?

"So, Maganza. What do you do here? Um…" The Cofagrigus had remained quiet, turning around and venturing deeper into the piles of books. Sensing that she would not care if he was left here, Zenith ran after her fading silhouette, desperate to keep up.

His eye beam danced around the place, illuminating items left and right. Unlike the Garden's hedge walls, these books were strewn around haphazardly, shallow piles in one spot while towers of books in another. The maze-like layout of the Library was probably created unintentionally.

"You know, for a place called the library, this place is surprisingly…Woah," Zenith's sentence trailed off as the narrow book-made corridors opened up, giving him enough space to walk next to Maganza.

With the structures before him for scale, Zenith now realised how big the library truly was. Giant bookshelves stretched so high that the small red circle of Zenith's light couldn't even reach the top. Maganza began moving again, scuttling ahead on all fours. As they got closer, he noticed the shelves, a countless number of them spanning the breadth of the bookshelves. They looked like the rungs of a ladder with how many they were, and that was exactly what Maganza used them for. Zenith jumped as clammy fingers wrapped around his torso without warning, the rest of her limbs pulling the both of them up effortlessly,

Scaling the bookshelf, Zenith noticed that the shelves were filled to the brim with labelled scrolls, all arranged in neat rows. But as they went higher, the contents of each shelf was becoming increasingly disorganized. A gap here or there. Half-packed shelves. Empty rows. It looks like this was what Maganza spent all her time here doing.

He was set down next to a pile of scrolls, watching two of Maganza's hands deftly thumb through the sorted section of the shelf. A palm was extended towards him, closing quickly around the rolled-up paper he had decided to place on it. His expected role here was apparent, and Zenith decided not to object.

Maganza was not fussy about the order, giving Zenith plenty of time to himself as he simply transferred random scrolls from paw to hand. How was Cleo doing back on Earth? His mom? Gayle? They had all been so happy, especially his mom.

Remarried after 15 years, less than a week before your death.

Cleo. Even if your love was just infatuation, she had to see you die before her eyes, after she had just 'gotten' you back.

What about Gayle?

Why didn't you try harder to break out of Sylvie's clutches?

Zenith's head was starting to ache, but it wasn't from the thoughts clamouring in his head. If anything, the acute pain boring into his temples was causing the voices to become fainter.

You aren't even fit to be here.

You're too weak, and you know it. You had powers for more than three months, and you only managed to master them yesterday?

What about your 'inventing skills', from someone who could not come up with an eye even when a god gave you all the time in the world?

The pain was getting stronger, and the volume of comments, though overwhelming, was getting weaker.

What's…going… on…?

The Umbreon's eyes snapped open, limbs flailing wildly as he realised he was dangling in midair. From the corners of his widened eyes, he could see ghostly fingers slide out of the sides of his head, dropping him on the floor in a crumpled heap.

"He has to grow stronger, too distracted by the past and present to face the future."

"What. Does. That. Mean?!"

The Cofagrigus had already returned to packing, unresponsive to Zenith's exasperated question. With the pain subsiding, he got back onto his feet to stare into another outstretched palm.

…

"The future? Do you mean my Erasure?" He may as well start talking out loud while he passed scrolls. It wasn't like she was going to judge him.

"Well, I guess it could make things better. My mom probably won't have to grieve, and everyone else can move on. Live better lives."

"But what would happen to the world if I didn't exist? Would past events play out differently with me gone as a factor, or will everyone just be in the same predicament, with no memories as of why?"

"I know it's not supposed to be my problem to worry. I know that there should be some way to see my family from here… But they're probably suffering because of me."

"Did your Erasure help you, Maganza?" In the midst of reaching for another scroll, Zenith noticed that the one in his paw wasn't being taken. A blue disc case was held gingerly between two giant fingers.

"Oh. Um, thank you." Zenith tucked the case behind his ear as he did with all the others, making a mental note to either remake or retrieve his utility belt. When he had the time.

"I just want to make sure that the Erasure makes things better for them, you know?"

The two Champions worked in silence for the next few minutes, until a sudden jolt in Zenith's nape caused him to fumble with his scroll. A fresh wave of news swept across his brain, updating him on every new advancement documented down on Earth. Uxie's teachings were getting easier to endure, considering it was only one day of knowledge each time.

"Where do you even get all these prophecies from? Is there a section in here that I can read?"

"He seeks information about future events! He is unaware, but does he wish for the heavy burden of clairvoyance?"

"If it means our conversations won't be as one-sided, sure." Zenith had replied jokingly, so he was surprised when a hand closed around him again.

"Wait, there's actually a prophecy section?" Maganza leapt from bookshelf to bookshelf, covering 4-metre gaps easily without losing height.

Placed under the case, Zenith heard three beeps from his telecommunicator, clicking as the incoming call was received.

"Zenith, where are you? You're supposed to be in the Gym." Dialga's voice was muffled from Zenith's ear covering the speaker.

"I'm in the library. Maganza wants to show me—"

"I don't care what she wants to do. Your schedule is not meant to be ignored. Get to the Gym now!"

"Uh… Dialga, I don't think I know how to—"

"Yeah, of course you wouldn't know how to get to the Gym. Hang on, I just need to..." The rest of the sentence was inaudible as the voice moved further away from the speaker.

This didn't feel like using the teleporters in the Halls. There was no gradual fading in and out of his surroundings. One moment he was soaring through the air in Maganza's grip, the next he was hurtling towards a white floor. Managing to slow time down, Zenith charged up a Dark Pulse, smiling faintly as he experienced the familiar sensation of its detonation. His Earth-life aspects were really resurfacing today.

"It's about time you had control over your Gift. Stand in there." Dialga gestured towards something resembling a ceilingless padded cell. Three walls and a wall of soft squarish tiles, complete with a solid sheet of glass sliding up from the ground as soon as Zenith entered.

"Tell me, how is your Gift activated?" Dialga examined his Champion from behind the glass.

"Well, I just think really hard for time to stop. Like a mental shout."

"Then we're going to make sure that shout is split-second." A control panel rose from the floor, where Dialga inputted a series of button presses. "Here's a simple exercise. Dodge everything, but only use your gift to avoid the red ones."

A wall's panels retracted backwards, leaving two rows of gaps where the tips of turret muzzles poked out.

"Begin."

The turrets fired at Zenith one by one, but that didn't mean ample time for him to react. The blue shots were manageable, slow enough to put substantial distance between him and the projectile. But interrupting the steady streams of blue was a streak of red, a ball moving so fast that Zenith barely managed to stop time before collision.

"Increasing rate of fire."

Zenith's ears were pressed against the back of his head, but finely attuned to the telltale sound of a turret firing. They were the ones that received all the information; if a turret had fired, where it fired from, and what colour had been shot. His ears carried his paws out of danger, eyes confirming his safety afterwards.

Zenith ducked underneath a projectile, noting his ragged breath when he exited another slowed-time phase. He may not have much more left in him, but the exercise would surely be over soon, right? At least it was only one wall.

"Good. Now with the warm-up out of the way, let's move on to the real training."

All four rows of tiles on every wall flipped open, revealing about 64 turrets pointed at him.

"Ready," Red dots appeared on Zenith's fur, the aim of lasers steady on their target even when he moved his limbs around.

"Survive for one minute. Go!"

Zenith acted on his instincts, the tiny dots moving onto his torso as he leapt upwards, waiting.

"Thoomp!" The sounds of unsynchronised turret fire dragged out, hanging in the air like Zenith. He could see balls emerging from the muzzles of more than half the turrets, an assortment of red and blue that sped towards him.

There was no way he could dodge all this by relying on agility alone. And trying to think rationally in this randomised barrage might lead to disaster, especially with how much time he was losing now just by inadvertently overthinking. The Umbreon charged up a Dark Pulse in his paw, allowing it to grow as large as he could.

He hoped he hadn't overestimated his winging skills.

All light around Zenith was extinguished as he slammed the orb onto his chest, momentarily enveloped in a sphere of darkness. That darkness exploded outwards not with a bang but a whisper, a shockwave of gloom spreading through the cubicle. Everything was knocked backwards, even Zenith himself. He sailed through the air, landing on and clinging to an exposed barrel. Dialga watched him balance on the thin rod, relaxing his muscles to drop back down to the ground, the next round of projectiles narrowly missing their target. The Champion darted around the training area, at times using turrets as footholds to scrabble onto the walls.

The turrets barely needed any time to retarget, their laser sights always landing on Zenith no matter how hard he tried. He fired a few more Dark Pulses to scatter groups of projectiles, only slowing time down when he saw red enter his field of vision.

STOP!

He was lucky he had picked up the subtle whistling of air being parted behind him. Turning around, he grabbed the time-slowed ball, pushing it through the air towards another. But what would happen if he tried to throw it?

Plucking a ball from the air, he pitched it in the same direction, watching it freeze in place once it left his paws. All that kinetic energy stored in a singular spot.

The ball seemed to vanish the instant he resumed time, knocking balls out of its path until it hit a turret with a metallic 'tink', its head spinning wildly on its gyroscopic swivel.

Now, this was more like it. This may actually be enjoyable if it didn't leave the Umbreon winded so often.

He found himself in the middle of the cubicle again, the lasers all crowding the ring on his head.

"Final round!"

The turrets fired in unison this time. Balls closed in on him from all sides, forcing him to reactivate his Talent while he was still catching his breath. He hadn't bought himself enough time to create a Pulse big enough to blast all of the balls away, but maybe it was time to try another move.

The beating of his heart faded into dull thumping as he concentrated hard, feeling the formation of a translucent, light-blue dome around him. It had been so long since he was battling against Shiny hunters. Were there more still lurking around his town for a glimpse of him, or had his death finally made the news?

NO! Zenith pushed outwards in a mental scream, his barrier responding to his will and expanding to the corners of the cubicle.

No more thoughts like… that.

"Well done, Zenith. You did significantly better than I thought." The glass door slid back into the floor, and turrets retracted back into the walls.

"Thank you, Dialga."

"Very well. I suppose this concludes my training session with you, but that does not mean your own training has ended for today. You should improve on the duration you maintain your Gift, and you can do so on your own here. The Gym has simulations for every form of exercise."

"I think it depends on the amount of time I can hold my breath."

"Zenith, don't let your past physical form define you. You are a Champion, a Pokemon bestowed with limitless energy, and with it comes limitless potential. The only barriers you face are those you have not yet broken through."

"You're saying that… I don't have to breathe?"

"With enough practice, yes. I estimate in about half a century, give or take a decade. Train hard, Zenith. I await great things from you."

Zenith could have sworn he was standing next to Dialga, but the Legendary had somehow disappeared from the Gym after delivering his expectations, leaving Zenith alone with the control panel. The Umbreon walked over to it, speaking into the microphone that had risen out of its stand.

"Okay then. Bring up exercises on breath-holding."

"Certainly, ZENITH. I also recommend courses on breath-control and awareness to be taught alongside your current selection. Estimated time for mastery, factoring two hours of daily training: 30 years."

Oh boy.

There was a lot of work to be done.