Chapter 84 – What's Your Name?

The once pristine labyrinth of silk and glowing halls had holes torn through them to let in the light. Har's tail flame illuminated what was left, and they soon realized from the night's rainfall that they had to keep the holes better covered. The water that seeped through the webbing made everything sticky and soggy; without Trina's Mysticism to keep it regulated, their labyrinth was literally melting around them.

Snapping Har out of his thoughts was Ani's sigh. "I don't think Trina's coming back," she said. "Something happened."

Having an icy pit in his stomach was never a good feeling for a Fire. "Those explosions made it pretty obvious," Har said. "How's Lygo doing?"

"I healed him, but he still seems shaken up," Ani said.

Lygo had been their scout; when the sky had turned black, he had tried to flee. But then the lights had cut through the darkness, and the explosions made nearly everyone pass out—including Lygo, in midair. By the time he had regained consciousness, he'd struck the ground hard.

Even with his body healed, everyone felt a lot weaker. That explosion in the sky was one of the strongest things they'd ever seen. Har hadn't seen anything like it, either, even with his past life's incomplete memories. He did have a theory, though: streaks of light from a faraway place could only be something of divine nature, surely. And if the Book of Arceus was anything to go by…

"Whatever got Trina, it seems like Arceus himself is trying to suppress it," Har said, squeezing his claws. He glanced at his bag, which felt so much heavier than usual, and at the three scarves tucked away inside. He hoped they would still be effective if he wound up choosing to give it to them, but—

No, would he be doing that? Was he supposed to do that by now?

"Har."

"Oh—you're still here." Har nodded at Ani. "Sorry. I, um. Hi."

"You've been lost in thought all day," Ani hummed, frowning. The mutant Meganium wrapped a vine around his forehead. "You feel kind of hot. Are you sure you aren't coming down with something?"

"…I'm a Fire."

"Well, yeah, but hotter than usual. I feel like if I could feel pain, I'd be bringing my vine back by now." She did so anyway, inspecting it, and then showed Har the part of her vine that had touched him. "See? It looks a little burned."

"I don't see anything, and I have Perceive. I'm fine." Har crossed his arms.

"Har, I know when you're lying," Ani said. "I don't have Perceive, but I may as well with you." She prodded him with a vine, making sure one of her thorns dug into his chest's scales. "So, what's it going to be, Har?"

Always with the rhetorical questions. Har didn't have an immediate response. Instead, he let the slowly collapsing wall to his right, and its unstable silk congealing into a shapeless mess, distract him. Ani, however, was having none of it. She would have said more had it not been for the shout from across the field, audible only because the walls that separated the corridors had long since collapsed.

"Another mutant's woken up! S-someone, help!"

Ani cursed and looked to Har. "I'm not done, but we need to do this first." Even while she spoke, she pulled herself along, and Har followed, stretching his wings to conjure himself some forward updraft.

Har twisted in the air and drilled through a thin wall of silk to get to the struggle faster—he could already sense them. The middle of it all was an Umbreon being held down by a Throh and Sawk. Those two weren't mutants—he remembered their arrival several years ago. Outlaws in hiding that turned a new leaf under Trina. Good. Much more stable than the mutants who were losing it.

This Umbreon kept struggling under their hold, spewing poison from spikes that protruded from the glowing rings on his body. It was already weakening the two Fighting Pokémon, despite their type advantage. Feral growls and hisses were the only sounds that came from Umbreon.

"He's getting loose!" Throh shouted, his grip weakening.

"Do we have any way to immobilize him?" Har shouted, landing nearby. "Thunder Wave, anything, do we—"

"This is with Thunder Wave."

Har's throat tightened and he looked down. He saw the madness in Umbreon's eyes; there was no way they were going to console that unless they put him under or subdue or bind him.

Subdue, put under—sleep!

"Does anybody have a Sleep Seed?!" Har shouted, but then tuned his horns to the bags that a few of Trina's best carried. There was one nearby, but in his panic, he didn't know whose it—it was his. Right. He kept some of them to help with restless nights.

Pulling out the Seed and ignoring its vaguely floral aroma, he motioned for Sawk to help with pulling Umbreon's mouth open. They tried to adjust, but the moment they did, sharp spikes jutted out from all sides of Umbreon and stabbed at the two Fighters' skin. They cried simultaneously, let go, and Umbreon bolted.

"No!" Har stretched his wings and conjured more updraft to fly forward, the frantic flight leaving small trails of embers behind him. His tail blazed with the extra oxygen, which in turn gave him a surge of energy like a second breath of air, and soon he was already upon the frenzied mutant.

First came a sharp, burning pain—and burning was not something that Har was used to. Then came a much more familiar, icy chill that spread dully through his flesh, and he knew that Umbreon had used his strange, poison spikes. Didn't matter; he had to power through.

"Calm down, you—" He shoved the Sleep Seed into Umbreon's mouth and gripped his muzzle firmly afterward.

"It's okay," Har continued, somewhere between a growl and a whisper. "You'll sleep, we'll keep you safe, we'll calm you down, okay? We'll figure it out."

Umbreon wasn't receptive, but at the very least, the seed went down.

Har waited. And waited. And waited.

Nothing was happening. Why wasn't it—

Distracted, Har lost his grip on Umbreon, who suddenly broke him his hold, blasted him with a volley of spikes to his snout and chest, and then bolted away. Har roared and spat a gout of fire randomly ahead, hitting only the air. He tried again, unable to see with his eyes but perfectly aware of Umbreon's trajectory regardless. Umbreon hopped to the left and bolted past a few passerby mutants who didn't react in time.

"Get him!" Har shouted, but he knew it was useless. Umbreon was gone. He rummaged angrily through his bag and pulled out a Heal Seed, trying to ignore the cold sting of the poison, and bit down.

Why did he even bother? Of course it wouldn't work.

"Please tell me Pecha Berries aren't broken," Har begged, turning to face Ani, who had finally caught up with him. He ignored her empathetic wince and said, "Yeah, I know, it looks bad—heal me, please."

"I need to take out those spikes first," Ani said.

"Fine, just…" Har's words were slurred, and he realized only then how badly the poison was coursing through him. "Just do somethi…"

The world was a tunnel of light, and then darkness.

Charizard nuzzled Charmander on the back of his neck. In reply, Charmander growled and crossed his arms, looking away. A learned behavior from all his exposure to humans, but Charizard had always said that was a good thing.

"Humans are dumb."

Charizard sighed, looking over at Marowak, who seemed more interested in the boulders in the distance. Marowak understood; Charmander knew that. Because he used to be feral, and he didn't really get to know humans until after meeting Charizard. But… He still respected them, for some reason. And Charmander didn't understand that.

"They aren't dumb, Smallflame," Charizard said. "Not all of them. Some humans… are worthy of your time."

"Some." Charmander spat a small ember on the ground. "What if I get a dumb one?"

"Then leave them." Charizard smiled, prodding at Charmander again.

"Then they'll be too weak." As far as Charmander was concerned, if he picked a human, he was going to have to stay with them so they didn't get into any trouble.

Charmander looked at his other siblings—they were all sparring with one another under the oversight of Redscale. He had never picked a human. He had stayed behind to help the others pick theirs. Why couldn't he be like Redscale?

Charizard never answered him. And he knew Charizard wouldn't answer him if he tried today. So, instead, he tried a new question. "…Fine. Tell me about your human."

Charizard looked down. "What?"

"Your human. What about her? She gave you a name. And she trained with you. So, what about her?"

In all honesty, Charmander hadn't paid much attention when Charizard talked about her human. He only knew the basics that every Pokémon in their family knew: That humans had the power to give Pokémon human names. Names that they didn't know how to say themselves, but the humans could. Their strange language barrier; Pokémon and humans understood each other through feelings, not words, but that was usually enough.

But to be given a name… Was it really that important to Charizard? What was her human name? He never knew. He rarely heard her human name, because apparently Charizard didn't like anybody else to use it except for her trainer. And she…

Charizard's eyes briefly showed her age. Beneath the eternal flame were ancient embers that had long since settled down: little imperfections under her eyes, faded scales that speckled her face. Old scars from battles and troubles that a simple potion couldn't heal in time. Charmander rarely noticed them; that was just how Charizard looked. So why was he seeing them now?

She had a wide smile on her face, but her eyes were sad. The old mother picked Charmander up and cradled him in her arms; he curled up on reflex, ready to listen to another bedtime story.

"She was wonderful."

Owen groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was wet. He grimaced, looking blurrily at his fists. Rubbing his cheeks came; they were wet with tears, which confused him. The Charmander wiped them away and yawned for a second time, trying to understand the cause of the heaviness he felt in his chest.

Charizard… He looked at the bowl, frowning. He remembered a Charizard, but it was such a fleeting thought. It felt so long ago. Maybe it was just a dream?

It was never that simple. That was where the heaviness was coming from, but it all felt so vague. The dream had all but evaporated, and it wasn't like there was anything he could do about it anyway.

He took one step and suddenly doubled over, grunting in pain. His stomach felt horrible. Had he even slept for long? It felt like his insides were on fire—everything felt like some kind of rushed blur, now that he thought about it. His muscles ached. And he smelled something foul nearby.

He looked to the left, spotting the remains of the bowl of food he'd eaten. The bowl of himself? At this point he decided that he should just get used to that thought. But the stew had congealed since he'd last eaten it, and simply reheating it probably wasn't going to be good enough this time around. Out of tiny desperation, Owen inspected the soup, but it radiated a foul presence that made even his feral instincts recoil.

He stepped back and into something else. The sound of a half-full bowl clattered dully against his ankle. With a grimace, he shook his foot of more rotten food, but a different foul odor still permeated the air.

Wait—that's my breath.

It smelled like bile. And then Owen remembered—in vague, dizzy flashes—what had happened. He had been eating the stew, which had settled badly in his stomach. Then, he'd tried to stuff more of it down in an effort to keep as much nutrition in him as possible… And then…

That backfired.

He rubbed at his cheeks, chipping away at dried bits of uneaten—and formerly eaten—food that stuck to his scales. The pain in his stomach, he assumed, was a mixture of emptiness and lingering food poisoning.

Was he better or worse off than before he found this stew? Psychologically, he was probably better. Physically? Owen wasn't sure anymore. But he needed to find water next. The closest he had to that was the tree taffy. He probably had to spend another few moments in that forest…

He looked at the uneaten food—what a waste—but knew that this time, he couldn't act out of desperation. The next one could kill him. He didn't even know what that would truly mean this time around, either.

Trying to spit out the remaining taste of bile, Owen left the cave, felt for rumbles, and continued north to the dead forest. It was far away, like a black line in the horizon across a canvas of purple, windswept fields. The great plateaus towered over him as always, but Owen was starting to notice little distinctions in each one. Lumpy, straight, a little angular. Each plateau had their own personality. The one he just left felt particularly sassy.

Compared to the walks that he'd taken before, this one felt simultaneously longer and shorter. It was shorter because, as far as the number of steps he'd vaguely counted, they were the fewest by far. Yet between his lingering nausea, his lack of proper food in… a while, and the lack of water, it felt like he'd been walking for longer than all his other trips combined.

He had stopped caring about the rumbling a while ago, getting a sense of how near and far they were. The small ones didn't scare him anymore; whatever those titanic things were, they were at least three or four rows of plateaus away when the shakes were at that intensity.

A defiant-looking plateau had its head eternally tilted upward, challenging the sky to blow it down. Owen wished he could be like that, so tall and unmoving. There had been a lot of people in Kilo who looked up to him. Demitri, Mispy, Gahi—he was finally becoming their leader. Then this happened.

And Zena… Was she okay? Could she be lost here, too? How many times could she have been killed, the way he had, and the way Amia had? So many others to find, and he had no idea where any of them were—or if they were still fighting in Kilo.

The defiant plateau was behind him, and up ahead, the final plateau before the forest, was a tired one. The cliffside sagged like an overweight Nidoking, huffing and puffing after climbing the Heart HQ stairs. Owen could relate. He was fit, but he was starting to feel the fatigue of no proper meals—none held down, at least. But he couldn't stop. They were probably looking for him the same way he was for them.

He eventually got to the edge of the forest, prioritizing the water first. Without having to worry about going back to Amia this time, he simply followed the forest edge. Maybe he'd happen upon a river.

But first, he needed something to get his tongue to stop feeling so sticky and dry. He channeled some Steel energy into his claws, slashing at the nearest tree. Just like the ones deeper in, the tree had some inner bark for him to tear away, though not as much, and not quite as juicy. He was tempted to go deeper inside where the ground was moist, but decided, for now, to not risk it. Some basic energy would do for now.

After tearing enough pieces for himself, he continued along the forest perimeter, silently hoping that he'd find some lead on what he was supposed to do next.

Water. Everyone needed water. If he followed a river, maybe he'd find the others. And maybe Zena would be inside.

Dull, intense pain wracked Har's body. He groaned a few times until he realized he was awake, or that he had passed out at all. Gentle claws held his shoulder.

"Stay down," Lygo said, and the Flygon pressed a little harder to force Har to stop moving.

"Umbreon…"

"Ran off," Lygo said. "It's too late—sorry. But that's how it is." Lygo squeezed his hands together, claws digging into his palms. "We're trying to keep the ones that didn't run away stable, but that's by force right now. They're all asleep. But when they wake up, what?"

Har's heart sank. "Are they stable?"

"For now…"

Ax's voice sounded from somewhere far away. "He awake?"

"Yeah!" Lygo called back. When he took his claws off Har to wave them down, Har tried to get up again. Lygo's tail smashed him back into the silk.

"Get off me—" Har tried to stand again, but overwhelming fatigue washed over him and he collapsed on his own. "Why aren't I healed?"

"You need to rest," Lygo said firmly. "That Umbreon's poison is persistent, and we're out of Pechas. The ones we used on you weren't too effective on that poison, so you just need to hold still."

His vision was blurry, but he could make out the vaguely green figures of the Flygon, Meganium, and Haxorus. Lygo pulled him up and kept him level, while Ani used her vines to prevent Har from leaning too far in any direction.

"I feel like I just ate Ani's cooking," Har mumbled.

Ani let go of Har and let him collapse.

"Just take it easy," Ax said. "Har—the whole labyrinth is falling apart. We have no idea what to do. Do we just stay put until Trina comes back? Or—"

"I don't think Trina's coming back," Har stated. "Something… happened. The whole place wouldn't be falling apart if she was still around."

Somehow, this thought felt even worse than the poison that still ran through his blood, circling through him in toxic waves from his head to his tail.

"We have to try to rebuild with what we have and salvage the mutants who aren't going crazy. And… and you guys are staying sane, too, right?"

Ani nodded. "Don't worry."

Lygo shifted his weight and murmured, "We'll tell you if we're feeling off."

"I thought Trina cured us of this," Ax added, tugging at one of his tusks. "We were supposed to be past this, y'know? But—"

"It was Mystic power," Ani concluded. "We have to be careful."

"Too much stress might set us off," Har added, feeling a phantom madness settling in his head that felt simultaneously familiar and foreign.

The poison made relaxing difficult, but he could at least try to breathe. His flame still provided him with a gentle warmth that spread through the rest of his system, and that was reassuring enough. He felt awful, slumped down in a pile of melting silk, but he wasn't dying. He did sense, however, that the other three were bothered.

"You guys should help out the others," Har said, screwing his eyes shut. "I'm useless right now. I'll help out when my body fights off this stuff."

"We will," Ax said, "but…"

"Right." Lygo nodded, shifting to his other foot. "There's something else we wanted to ask you."

"The scarves," Ani added.

"Not now," Har mumbled, rolling over and away, shielding his head from the rest of them with his wings. "Too tired."

"Owe—Har," Ani said, narrowing her eyes. She wrapped a vine around his wing and pulled, but Har refused to budge. Puffing out her cheeks, she pulled harder, but the Charizard growled in response.

"What part of tired don't you understand?"

"Why did Trina give those to you?" Lygo asked. "C'mon, there're three of them, and three of us. Where's yours?"

"They're—you know, stuff," Har said. "Was meant for… a ceremony."

"A ceremony" Ani said. "One only you know about? We asked about those scarves with the others and they had no idea."

"Well, that's because Trina only got around to telling me about it," Har explained, weaving an even greater lie. Much like the silk around them, though, he feared it was rapidly deteriorating.

"What's it for?" Ani pressed, her grip around his wing getting stronger.

"I wasn't supposed to say because—"

Ani abruptly wrapped two vines around Har's arm and pulled it back and around, twisting the scales. Har yelped, which transitioned into a desperate whine and wail.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Har shouted, but trying to pull away only made it worse. "S-stop! I'm already dying—you'll kill me!"

"What's it about?" Ani asked, twisting a little harder.

Har kicked and flailed his tail, waving flames over Ani's vines, but she was completely unfazed.

"Ani, c'mon," Ax said, backing down. "If he doesn't want to tell us—"

"No." Ani grabbed a third vine and curled it around Har's neck; he tensed.

"Wh-what're you doing?" Har squeaked, realizing that Ani had pressed him down while he wasn't paying attention. He was too weak to fight back.

"Negotiations," Ani replied, bringing another vine up to her mouth. She wrapped her maw around it; Har's eyes widened with horror as thick globs of saliva coated the tip.

"Oh boy, here we go," Lygo rolled his eyes, though he didn't make an effort to stop her.

"Ani, wait," Har said. "C-can't we work this out? I—AAH!"

She twisted his arm again, and the wet vine slithered toward one of Har's earholes.

"No, no, wait!" Har begged, craning his neck as far as it could go.

"Tell us," Ani said threateningly.

"No!"

The vine was getting very close. He could smell it. A mixture of cut grass, berries, morning breath—Oh Mew, what did she eat?!—It was about to enter him and rot his brain.

In his panic, though, a moment of clarity passed through, and he wondered if Ani had sensed it from the start: the flame on his tail didn't have any blaze of battle. Was he really fighting back? It certainly didn't feel like it; he didn't know what he was trying to preserve anymore. He didn't know why they were so fixated on the scarves; he hadn't said anything. Maybe he really was still easy to read…

Ani's absurd negotiation tactic—it was completely like her to force the truth out like this. He didn't want to lose that… yet…

"Fine—" Har said, sucking in a breath. He held it. Then he went on, "I'll talk."

"Hmph." Ani loosened her hold and drew back. Lygo and Ax both avoided Ani's slimy vine.

Har muttered under his breath and rolled to a slightly more comfortable position, eventually stopping on his belly to help his stomach settle. The combination of Ani's threat and the ongoing poison wasn't doing his gut any favors.

"So?" Ax asked, poking his claws together. "What's it supposed to be for? The ceremony?"

Har looked the three over, hesitating, like this would be the final time that he would get to see them as they were. Yet, they had this grave look in their eyes that tempted him so badly to turn up his Perceive. He'd know instantly what they were thinking if he did, but…. It would also break their trust. He couldn't do that to them.

Not that he wasn't already going to do that.

The words didn't come. He felt like a Charmeleon staring down an endless cliff. No wings to carry him over. If he stepped forward, would that be the end? Or would he evolve? That was too optimistic.

But a great, saliva-covered monster was threatening his brain. He had to jump.

"It's not a ceremony," Har said, sighing in defeat. It wasn't even the threat of Ani that was making him speak, at this point. Once he promised to tell them, he couldn't back out. Because… "You guys are my friends—so you deserve to know. They were… dispel Scarves. Just like how Owen made one to dispel Ghrelle's power over that Aerodactyl guy, or at least suppress the effects… Trina made one that would completely nullify something she did to you three."

"Nullify?" Ax said. "Like what?"

And just then, the words died in Har's throat, all momentum lost.

"Keep talking," Ani said.

That was enough. "Y-your memories. Trina altered them."

"How?" Ani asked, though it was more like a demand. Ax and Lygo were uncharacteristically quiet, like the shock had rendered them speechless, yet all he saw from them on the surface were downcast eyes and little, sideways movements to adjust their footing.

"I'm—I'm not the only one who has false memories of being the original Alloy," Har explained.

"Okay," Ani said, her vines curling and uncurling. "So, all three of us used to be them, too?"

"We were never them," Har said immediately, trying to rise to his feet, but a wave of dizziness made him fall again. Ani didn't help him up, and Ax and Lygo were both still motionless. "We were born with fake memories based on their most recent experiences, and that's all. We were supposed to replace them when everything went wrong the first time, but we were never them. And—and you guys couldn't handle that, so when we found Trina, you asked her to remove those memories and start fresh, and when she offered it to me, I refused, and—"

He didn't realize until the claws dug into his shoulders that Lygo had approached. Shortly after, it was Ax on the other side, while Ani slid to stand in front of him.

"Breathe," Ax said softly.

"It's alright," Lygo said. "We kinda figured."

"What—" Har tried to look at all three of them at once, but eventually settled on Ani. There was no way they could have deduced that far, yet they weren't at all surprised. If anything, they looked relieved.

She nodded, then looked at the bag in the corner of the room. "So that's what they'll do?"

"Yes." Har looked away.

A late morning breeze carried the smell of smoke from a distant fire. Har remembered a time when Ani had tried to make a fancy dish he'd read about in a cookbook. It had been the most terrible thing he'd ever eaten.

"How come you never told us?" Ani asked.

That one was probably the worst question of all. "I'm really tired, guys," Har said, but he knew none of them were going to buy it. He didn't have to look at, nor Perceive, Ani's glare to feel it. "…I didn't want to lose you."

"Lose us," Ax repeated. "You mean the fresh start that we had, even though you still had those fake-Owen memories? Because we couldn't handle it? Why did you even keep yours?"

"I—I don't know," Har said. "I felt like I couldn't have, or that I shouldn't have. Because if I lost my memories, too, what's that going to mean for… anything about what we used to be? I felt like it would have lost something if I did… lost forever if we all forgot. And look!" He motioned vaguely westward. "We knew about what was going on with the real ones that we were based on. Living in endless cycles of forgetting everything—a fog that kept them from being who they really were! I didn't… want to have all of us go through that. I needed to be the escape. And I…"

"And you still didn't tell us," Ani stated flatly.

Har suddenly had to swallow, the back of his throat tasting like bile. He'd spent so many nights staring at the ceiling with only his flame to keep him company. Nightmares, recurring ones, about his body dissolving into a great void, and then being reborn as a faceless doll. He never saw the faces of his team there; they had always been blank. He always held masks of them, but the masks were tearful. He couldn't bear to return them.

"I just don't get it," Ax said, frowning. "You wanted to hold onto a legacy that you hated because it wasn't yours, but you also didn't want us to regain it and catch up to you and everything you knew?"

He swallowed it back down and breathed. Still, no words followed.

"…Why, then?" Ani asked. "We chose to get rid of it. And after that, I guess Trina planned to give it back to us one day. Left it to you? Never told us?"

Everything felt tight and claustrophobic. Lygo and Ax were right next to him and somehow it felt like they towered over him. Those vines would squeeze what little life remained in his poisoned body, and maybe he deserved it, because he had no right to withhold that kind of information from them—their precious memories. The very thing he wanted to protect for some twisted, backwards reason, he hid from them.

All because… "I was… afraid I'd lose the new you. And it'd all just be fake again. Fake us. Fake me. At least this way… you guys were able to come up with your own personalities without the way Eon wanted you to be."

Ani frowned, sighing. "Trina's not here to give you therapy," she muttered. "…Whatever." She slid toward the bag, tugging it open. "Then are we allowed to wear them?"

"Y-you… I can't…" Har, defeated, collapsed back onto the ground. "I don't have a right to stop you."

"Did you ever have that right?" Ani asked, and Har realized that, indeed, keeping his Perceive off was the best choice. He didn't want to know how Ani felt just then, because her voice shook for the first time.

Har wasn't sure if she would hear him, but he mumbled under his breath, "No. I'm sorry."

Ani took the three out and tossed one to Lygo, then another to Ax. All three of them stared at it, then down at Har, who peeked out at them from between his claws. They all waited, and when Har realized this, he rolled onto his back and slowly sat up. The dizziness came the first time and he had to stop; Ani spared a few vines to prop him up afterward.

"Right now?" Har said, feeling, for some reason, small. "You're doing this right now?"

"Should we?" Ani said.

"It's—it might be stressful," Har said.

"Maybe. But so is anticipating it, right?" Ani pulled the scarf a little closer, a few simple motions away from wrapping it around her neck. Har only saw it as a deadly knot to suck the life out of everything he knew about them… And yet, would it also be a return to what they used to be?

"Har," Ani said, and Har willed himself to maintain eye contact again. "What's my name?"

"Your—your name?" Har asked the Meganium. "It's… Ani right now." Because he didn't know what would happen after.

"And you?" Ax spoke up, anxiously plucking and reattaching one of his tusks. "What's your name? What would we call you?"

"I…" Why was he shaking? "Just—tell me after. We'll see. I—just do what you want. I'll answer to either, just—just do it already. Please."

He couldn't stop his jaw from quivering and he hated it. This was absurd—he was going to get them back! He would finally get his team back! His friends, his companions… their false memories still bound them together. And what else did they have? No—it was with Trina. Their friendship had been recreated under Trina… Was he better off that way?

His 'true' counterpart's shining eyes flashed in his mind. So happy and full of life despite everything he'd gone through. And then there was him, the fake, with suppressed friends and no true identity. Miserable. But now he was losing even that to another veil of artificial memories…

But it was what they wanted. And according to Trina, memories, no matter how they were acquired, were eternal. It would be with them forever; the seal would eventually break. This was… inevitable.

So, he only watched, his eyes trying to remember every detail about them. And once again, he was tempted to use his Perceive to remember even more… But he didn't. And he instead nodded, claws weakly digging into his palms, and waited.

Ani did it first, then Lygo, and then Ax. Ax had trouble tying it together, so Lygo helped and brought it around his neck.

"…Well?" Har choked.

There were no lights; no gasps; not even a startled blink. More than ever, Har wanted to know for sure how they felt, but with his eyes alone, he knew something was amiss.

"It's not working?" he asked, and then a pit of ice pulled his stomach down. "Trina… If she's gone, then her influence would be—the Mystic aura in those—"

Ani's frown deepened, and then she looked to Ax and Lygo. They both blinked in some silent agreement toward her.

"We already got them back," Ani finally said.

The shock left Har numb. He didn't fully understand the words they had said, only that he wasn't supposed to be reacting so silently. Yet he couldn't find it in him to say anything.

"Our memories," Ani clarified with a subdued smile.

Har tried and failed to get up, smashing his face into some of the lumpy silk. It tasted like feet. Sputtering and coughing, rubbing his tongue on his claws, he panted and ignored the quiet giggles coming from Lygo.

He settled for resting most of his weight on his arm again. "Why didn't you tell me?!" he shouted, a sudden, seething anger putting a pressure on his neck and forehead. "I—I was getting all worked up over something that already happened, and—"

"Because now we're even," Ani said, her subdued smile becoming a playful smirk.

"Hmph." Lygo crossed his arms. "Lie by omission to us, then fine, we'll do the same to you." After a second of seriousness, a wry smile broke the façade.

Ax fiddled with one of his tusks, tugging it out to twirl around his claws. "And if you're wondering… We don't feel too different. It was weird to get our memories back, but that was always the plan, even if we forgot. When we first lost them, Trina took us to the side, away from you, for the procedure… But it was actually just to sort out when we'd get them back."

"Trina said memories were eternal," Lygo added. "We'd get them back eventually under Mystic influence, and Trina has a lot of that. But the timing on when we got them would mean a lot… Guess she was right." He looked at his claws, then at Har.

"And—and your accent," Har said. "Gahi had a—"

"Ehh…" Lygo shrugged. "I feel it slipping, but I think I'll stick with speaking properly. Leave the broken speech to Gahi."

"And Ani," Har said. "Your…"

Ani shrugged. "I've never had trouble talking. I don't really know why the real Mispy can't. Maybe Nevren got around to finding out what was going on with my speech center."

"Then… then which ones are you?" Har asked, wings drooping.

The three looked at one another, perplexed. When it seemed that nobody had an answer, Ani asked, "What do you mean? I thought you didn't tell us because you were scared to lose us, or something?" She leaned forward, several vines creeping over Har's legs. "What, did you want to be Owen again?"

"I—" Har paused. "I don't know."

"Well, who do you want us to be?" Ani leaned forward. "Ani, or Mispy?"

"I don't know!" Har blurted, trying to pull away, but Ani didn't let up. She kept staring with that intense glare in her eyes. "I just—you pick! It's not my choice!"

"What do you mean?" Lygo asked, standing on Ani's right. Ax stood to the left.

"I—" Har's words echoed in his head, everything feeling askew, like the whole world was tilted to the left. "I chose to be Har," he began slowly, "because I wasn't Owen. But I sorta wished I was Owen, too, because—I mean, duh, it's what I started off with." He watched their eyes and paused. Despite the fact that they were waiting for him, Har felt lighter.

"It's wasn't fair to leave you guys without memories. Now that you have them all… Pick." He lowered his head, trying to suppress his shaking. He was at their mercy, after finally telling them the truth. He remembered how horribly they'd screamed at Eon, how they had blasted him away and fled the lab. Would the same happen now?

Perhaps the artificial apple didn't fall far from the rotten tree.

"Why?" Ani asked.

He thought he felt Ani's vines digging into his scales, but it was all in his mind. A quick glance verified she was just watching him, not advancing nor backing away.

His flame felt so cold.

"It's not my choice," Har whispered. "I already lied to you guys once and tried to manipulate you into… something. I was afraid of change—that was it." The realization was enough for him to latch onto, even if he wasn't sure it was true. "But now it's done, and… I'm ready to just see what happens." Lighter and lighter; he was shaking, but it was easier to breathe.

Ani eased her stance into something taller, looking down at Har with narrowed eyes. "So I can be Ani or Mispy?"

Har nodded. "Whichever."

Ani looked to Lygo, who nodded. Then to Ax, who also nodded.

"Does it matter?" Ani asked.

Har blinked, looking up. "What—" He didn't know how to finish, so he let them continue.

"We weren't able to handle it, so we ran away to hide in our minds," Lygo said. "You weathered the storm for us. I don't think the name you pick, or we pick, matters anymore. We feel like… us." He smiled a little wider. "And you're still you, to me."

At this, Ax and Ani nodded firmly.

Far to their right, a part of the silken maze sagged, even more of Trina's abode collapsing gently around them with a soft sigh. Har couldn't see. Everything was a blurry mixture of white silk and green bodies; Ani's form faded into Ax's, and then Lygo, those red flecks for his wings, got closer.

He hadn't realized it until then, but his breathing was so quick that he was becoming lightheaded again. Deep, rumbling whimpers escaped his throat against his wishes. He tried to speak but it came out as a babble. His expression twisted into an ugly grimace, shaky gasps parting his jaws. "I—I'm s-so…"

"By the stars," Lygo said, and Har could at least hear him. "You're a mess."

And then Har wailed, covering his eyes with his claws. His wings shielded him from the outside world, his sobs amplified within the protective shell. Two sets of claws held him by the shoulders and vines wrapped around his torso; three heads pressed against him on all sides, and in that instance, those relieved, sad sobs became happy tremors. He opened his wings enough to let them in, then his arms, and he cried into their shoulders. Tears weaved between scales and onto the damp ground. Their pressure relieved him, and he wanted to pull them even closer, even if it crushed his bones.

"I'm sorry," Har sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"I'm sorry, too," Ani replied.

"You cry too much for a Fire," Ax whispered.

"I know, I—I know."

Little murmurs and gentle nothings eventually brought Har down to an occasional sniffle, but now he was grinning more than he'd ever grinned before. "I—I really don't know," Har admitted. "I've been Owen, but I feel like Har, too."

"Same," they all admitted.

"But the real ones are still around, too," Har said. "And we have our own n-names anyway."

"So, stick with Har?" Ani asked. "For practical reasons."

"Are we sure the real ones are still okay?" Ax said. "Trina went to where they are, and she's not back…"

Har didn't want to think about that, but his tail flame dimmed anyway. "Let's stay optimistic."

"Guess I'm Ani, then." The Meganium relented.

"Yeah," Ax agreed. "I'll stay as Ax—I'm used to it."

"Yeah, and Lygo sounds cool," Lygo said, grinning.

Har frowned and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm sorry I prolonged it for so long."

"Aah, who cares," Lygo dismissed with a wave. "We're as whole as can be, so now all that's just the past." He cracked his neck, then nestled a little closer to Har. "I'm just happy I don't feel lost anymore."

Har flinched, staring at Lygo, wordless.

"…What? Did I say something weird?" Lygo asked.

And just then, a thousand pounds left his shoulders. "No," Har replied, a smile creeping from the left side of his face into a full grin. "I think you just helped explain something I couldn't."

They stayed together for a while longer, and Har didn't complain. There was something special about being next to one another, rather than being fused or fighting or simply in the same room. He needed more of this. And for the first time, it didn't feel like a lie.

"No more secrets," Ani said to Har.

"None," Har agreed. He basked in their warm silence for a little while longer as he played the conversation in his head over and over.

"We've got a lot to fix around here," Ax hummed, glancing at the last of the silk ruins.

"Yeah," Har agreed, sighing. He had no idea what the path forward would be like for them. But at least they had each other.

"I think we'll manage it," Lygo affirmed.

Amid the collapsing silken labyrinth, the sunlight shined through the dewdrop treetops. Bright skies warmed their scales and Har's flame returned to a vibrant orange.

Author's Note: Special thanks to a new beta reader to my beta team, this time Ambyssin, author of the completed Guiding Light, and the in-progress Path of Valor! You should give his works a read!