Chapter 119 – Darkness Rises
Owen's blood turned to ice. Zena froze in place. It came from where Owen had pointed, on the thin wall that separated their room from an alley between the buildings.
"Zena," Owen said softly. "Complete guess, but… did Demitri and Mispy come back home yet?"
"They shouldn't have gone far," Zena whispered. "Dark Matter can't come inside the city, can't he?"
Knock. Knock. Knock.
No, he was unmistakably on the other side of the wall. He wanted something.
"Stay here," Owen said.
"No," Zena replied, and they stared at each other, both their breaths held.
"Then stay close," Owen conceded, and they both left their room.
It was dark out, which meant nighttime thanks to the new sky. And for a moment, Owen considered going back and ignoring he'd heard the knocking at all.
The darkness provided little comfort. Owen's legs locked up, primal fear tugging at the back of his mind. No flame. That was normal, though; he didn't have a flame anymore. But his mind was tricking him. It meant he was dying, and he had to hide to recover. He had to hide.
"Owen," Zena said gently.
He remembered. "Right. Let's go."
And there, between the buildings and in the dark, was a Charizard with a black flame. In his hands were the torn horns of a Goodra, which he made a point to toss away only when Owen was close enough to see it.
No introductions, no welcomes. Dark Matter only said, "I am here to discuss your surrender."
This was different from the last time. Owen did not feel that same dark, oppressive aura that had permeated the air from before, and, looking behind him, Zena looked neither fatigued nor tired. Null Village was immune to his dark aura, so long as that Radiant Tree remained.
So for him to come so brazenly into town, knock on their building, and then request a surrender from Owen? It was silly. So silly that Owen laughed.
"My surrender? What?" Owen asked, and he was disturbed that he felt like he had been speaking to an old friend.
"Yes," Dark Matter said, crossing his arms slowly.
"I think you've gone insane," Zena said flatly. "Surrender? Why, when your power gets weaker by the day?"
"Where do you get that impression?" Dark Matter asked.
"Your influence is even weaker here," Zena said, and Owen, emboldened, stood straighter. "You must know that we are about to strike you down."
"Mm." Dark Matter closed his eyes, and Owen had a feeling he wasn't really weighing or considering anything. Was he only pausing so Zena could reflect on her own words? "You are wrong. My power continues to grow. I am here to accelerate things and request your surrender early and put an end to this tedium."
Zena scoffed, looking to Owen. "Let's go. I don't want to risk him trying anything."
"You're free to." Dark Matter shrugged. "I'm only being practical. I'm getting impatient."
"You can't even corrupt me." Owen stepped forward.
Dark Matter glared in response, shifting his weight.
Owen pressed. "What makes you think you can win?"
"…Mm. I see." The dark-flamed Charizard sighed through his nose, similarly black embers escaping. He walked forward and Owen stepped back on reflex; another step forward.
Owen took several more steps back, shouting, "Hey! Stop—stop that! What are you—" when Dark Matter didn't stop, Owen blasted a volley of seeds at him, but they bounced pointlessly off his scales. Zena followed up with a Hydro Pump, aiming first for his face, but then at the flame of his tail. The fire crackled; Dark Matter's eyes twitched to a partial squint, but then he pointed over their shoulders.
The ground shook and it felt like Owen's chest had been struck by a massive fist. There was a loud sound like air sucking through a huge pipe, and then a ringing silence. Stone pierced his leafy feathers and he staggered back to see a whole building completely demolished. Chunks of stone hit the ground, cracking the ceramic pavement. Was it empty? Owen's eyes frantically searched for bodies, finding none. But that could mean anything.
"I can kill as many as I wish," Dark Matter said, eyes closed. "That was the home of an adopted family of three. None of them held solid memories beyond a few decades ago, and they came together by happenstance. Of course, they're all dead now. They will awaken as hollow shadows, like they'd never even met."
"What—YOU!" Owen felt his chest tightening. "Stop! What are you trying to prove with this?! He—help! Someone!" Owen spun around. The streets were quiet; a few people were peeking outside, but then shrank back when they locked eyes with Dark Matter.
Zena and Owen could only watch helplessly. None of their attacks would work. Where was Anam? What happened to him?
Another deafening explosion rocked his body, this time from several houses down. A scream accompanied this one as a plume of void dust rose into the air, blotting out the nighttime sky for part of the district.
"A single, lonely resident, living in the same home for a hundred years. He lived a quiet routine, waiting for the day something would change. There was nothing of value that he lost when he died tonight, and he will wake up not knowing where he lived."
"Why are you doing this?!" Owen screamed, and, without thinking, he sprinted toward Dark Matter. All the Charizard did was shift his weight and blow a massive gust of wind at Owen, knocking him off his feet and back into Zena.
She fired another beam of water at Dark Matter, which was deflected by a black barrier.
"I'm proving a point," Dark Matter said. "You are not, and never have been, stronger than me. You impede my progress. I concede this. But you never had any hope of stopping me."
"I sure did a good job at it before!" Owen said, gesturing to the tree.
"You have, and I cannot destroy that," he said. "That Radiant Tree of Life is your domain. I cannot overpower it while you are near, and I cannot defeat you for the same reason. The world operates on domains, and so long as I am in yours, I cannot win. Just as you can overpower and eject Star from your Grass Realm… you can do the same to me, should I stray too close. But its range is small and has no hope of completely covering Null Village. You were foolish to assume it could, living in these outskirts, the newly developed buildings at the village's edge."
Dark Matter paced. Every move he made, Owen positioned himself between him and Zena, as ineffectual as it would be.
"And what is the point of this, then? If you can't defeat Owen, is this just for show?"
"Yes." Dark Matter looked at the next building.
"Stop!" Owen said swiftly, and his voice cracked. "Please. Y-you made your point."
"Have I?" Dark Matter narrowed his eyes. "I sense doubt from your partner."
Zena flinched. Owen bit his tongue, holding his breath. Please, don't say anything.
"You prepared those buildings to scare us," Zena said. "This is all a show, like you said. All of this is… performance. Owen, let's go. We can just—"
"Choose." Dark Matter averted his gaze from his intended building and stared directly at Zena.
"Excuse me?"
"Choose a building."
Owen's blood felt like ice running across his scalp. Zena had gone stiff.
"Excuse me?" she whispered again.
"Pick one. Surely I didn't prepare every building."
Silence.
"Choose."
"I—I cannot do that."
"Then how am I supposed to prove myself to you?" He scowled. His slitted pupils focused on Owen next. "Choose."
"I'm not—I'm not doing that."
"You expressed doubt. I am removing that doubt. You have no reason to trust my word."
"F-fine, I believe you," Owen said hastily.
"There is still doubt in her." He stared at Zena. "That this is all a trick. That even now I am playing mind games to force you into despair. I am not here for tricks. I will not lie to you. There is no point. So, choose any target you wish, and I will demonstrate my power, with no chance of preparation."
"Can't you hit—hit a nearby tree, or something?" Owen asked frantically.
Dark Matter growled. "What a waste," he muttered, then glanced down the road. The edge of the village was there, along with a guard resting his back against it. He raised his arm—
"Wait—STOP!" Owen barked.
"Nngh, what now?" Dark Matter snarled, lowering his arm.
"There's a person there!"
"I cannot believe how lopsided your priorities are."
"You're a monster," Zena hissed. "We aren't… going to sentence anyone to death over this. Over proving a point."
"I'll admit the first building was entirely my fault," Dark Matter said, shrugging, "but I only struck the second one because you did not believe me."
"But why?" Owen said. "What are you doing this for?!"
Dark Matter sighed, this time more forceful. "Because I am trying to convince you to surrender."
"Y-you know, telling me that is only going to make it less likely."
"I am only doing this to be completely honest with you. As the embodiment of negativity, hatred, and malice, you have no reason to trust me at my word. I have said this many times, so stop questioning why I only speak facts to you."
The false Charizard waited for a reply, but Owen gave none. They both only glared.
Rolling his eyes, Dark Matter continued, "I cannot defeat you directly. That is plain and simple to see. Your light from Necrozma will counter any efforts to do real damage to you. Even if I attacked that one"—he gestured with a head jerk to Zena—"you would find a way to defend her, the rest of your team would emerge and drive me away, and so on. Still, you also cannot kill me. This is my domain. Is this a stalemate? No."
He gestured to the town. "You cannot protect everyone here. When you strike me, I will retaliate with more forces than you can hope to imagine. I will overtake both Null and Kilo Village, and then expand beyond. You will live. You and any few refugees you can rescue underneath your precious Tree. And that will be all. You will be alone, without supplies, without civilization, and your tiny kingdom's people will never be able to escape its perimeter without succumbing to the Void Shadows.
"All of their loved ones will become part of my ranks, and I will be certain to station the ones most relevant to them as the primary insurgence, so they will need to kill them over and over again just to survive. Soon, gripped with despair, they will join the Void Shadows so they may at least be with their family again. Resignation. Bargaining. Desperation. It will consume them.
"And then it will just be you, the Radiant Tree of Life, and an endless wasteland of nothing as you hold out for a miracle that will never come. Your resistance, now, will only delay the world's intended and proper end. That will be the existence you will impose upon those you wish to 'save.'"
Someone was weeping far away. Loose rubble from the explosions collapsed another wall, leading to startled cries. A cruel wind picked up loose dust and ruin. Then, it faded to relative silence again.
"Is that what you want?" Dark Matter finished.
The sheer horrific nature of what Dark Matter was describing to him felt impossible, like Owen couldn't so much as register what had been outlined. He stared, wide-eyed, realizing how far gone Dark Matter had become. There was no way he could reason with this, was there?
"You still don't plan to surrender," Dark Matter concluded. "Fine. But now, you know where I am when you do. You are no longer in a position where it is possible to win." He walked toward and then past them. Zena kept the greatest distance, while Owen only stared. His arm brushed against Dark Matter's leg. He was warm, yet a cold tingle ran through his body where they touched. And Owen caught a wince on Dark Matter's face. Owen tried to move his arms, but he felt paralyzed. His breathing didn't start until Dark Matter was a whole house away.
That was when he finally collapsed to the ground.
A thousand thoughts ran through his head. Of Dark Matter, of defeating him—of being defeated. Of trying to befriend him, that vague sense that it had been done before. And the idea that such a prospect was long dead.
He stared at the sky as his vision curled into a small point. The stars twinkled above him, and then his mind faded to darkness.
The Wishkeeper, a great Charizard, presided over a small squadron of Pokémon, all of them battling one another in competing pairs. They were working in a warm, southern part of Quartz, where the air smelled salty from the ocean and the ground was a fine mixture of sand and dirt and short grass. Still, the beach was too far away to hear. The sun was high but mercifully obscured by clouds, only slightly warming Owen's scales.
He towered over them all, standing at just over double a Charizard's typical height. Every step he made shook the earth and, weighing an actual ton, he was considered an indomitable force.
They were winding down. Owen thumped his tail harshly on the ground, which caught all of their attention.
"That's all for now. Let's take a break!" He nodded, then smiled encouragingly. "You're all growing quickly, but if you overwork, uh, you'll just burn yourselves out."
Owen walked to the far end of the sandy clearing and sat with a grunt. He'd been standing all morning and afternoon and his legs could use a break.
"Oi, Wishkeeper!" a harsh voice called.
Owen flared his wings and turned his head back. The exhausted training team tensed, murmuring to one another.
"What? How?" said one.
"G-get ready for a fight!" said another, exhausted trainee.
"No," Owen said, holding one of his wings out far. "Stand down. It's only four of them."
"Feh. So it's true. You can see auras."
"That would be my mate," Owen replied. "I just sense your bodies hiding behind the trees."
Marshadow stepped out, but Owen knew there was also a Cacturne, Drampa, and Dewott hiding nearby. The Drampa, he didn't even need Perceive to sense. The fluff of his large body bled around the tree trunk.
"We're here ter put a stop ter Dark Matter's war, here 'n now," Marshadow said, taking on a battle stance, hands forward, body low. A small target like that wouldn't be easy to hit, and he was probably fast, too. Ghostly fighters with martial arts along with it… He trained Gahi, too. And Gahi was too hard to hit.
"I don't want to fight you," Owen said. "You trained my mate. Practically raised him."
"He didn't wanna fight you, neither," Marshadow said lowly. "But now yer an enemy. The Void King's best general."
"And you came alone?" Owen asked. "Don't you think that was risky? What if you were killed, hero?"
"Heh. Sure." Marshadow hopped from foot to foot. "Enough talkin'. Let's fight."
Dewott was sneaking in the shadows. Drampa and Cacturne were going in the opposite direction, ready to flank.
"Everyone," Owen said, glancing behind him. "Get a safe distance away."
"L-leave? But, Wishkeeper, sir, you can't…"
He flashed a smile. "I'll be fine."
Marshadow seemed unnerved. "Four on one? Well, fine. Just 'cause yer massive don't mean I can't take yeh down! NOW!"
Dewott, Cacturne, and Drampa all emerged from the trees and shot volleys of needles, water, and indigo fire at Owen all at once. He raised a single hand, conjuring a dome barrier that was striped with gold and black. The attacks bounced off, but Owen sensed that Marshadow had disappeared. Spreading his wings, he kicked off the ground. Gusts of wind sent the trio skidding backwards from his wingbeats alone, and Owen narrowly dodged a sweeping punch from the shadows beneath him. Marshadow had disappeared into the ground to evade his Protect.
Owen twisted in the air and spiraled downward.
"Geh! Hit the deck!" Marshadow shouted, leaping toward the trees just in time to avoid the worst of Owen's attack as he slammed into the ground.
A wave of energy sent shockwaves upward from the ground, forming a crater beneath Owen and an outward pulse in the earth everywhere else. Nearby trees shook, but he held back enough to preserve their upright positions.
Owen huffed and stood upright, flaring his wings threateningly. "Last warning."
"Or what?" Dewott challenged, still on two feet. Drampa had protected Marshadow from most of that, landing on the ground. Cacturne was pinned against a tree, unable to break free of her own thorny body's hold on the bark.
"Or I'll have to kill you."
"Yer bluffin'," Marshadow said. "The Wishkeeper I know wouldn't do somethin' like that."
Owen stared, unmoving. Drampa shrank back, but Marshadow stood forward defiantly. "Like I said ter Mew, we'll figure this out! Hah!"
"Y-your leader may be formidable… but I don't see why we should stop now," Drampa said.
Dewott produced a shell, pointing it at Owen. "If that thing thinks it can just wipe us out, he's got another thing coming!"
Owen glanced left. He sensed that someone was watching this fight from a great distance. That was fine.
"That isn't why we're here, you know," Owen said. "My friend needs to be purified with the Hands of Creation, and the ones who hold them won't cooperate. If they worked together to heal him, this would all be over."
"Fat chance!" Marshadow spat, hopping from foot to foot. "He's gonna destroy the world!"
"No, you have it wrong," Owen growled, clenching his fists. "The one who wants to destroy the world is Necrozma!"
But Marshadow didn't listen. He kept his stance, as did the other three. This was pointless; they were just going to try the same volley again.
Marshadow shifted his weight to one foot, then took a slow breath. That was apparently the signal for the four to rush him.
Owen gave them no more chances.
From the corners of his mouth, blue flames sprouted. His wings tore themselves apart into a new, jagged form. The scales of his body darkened from orange to black, cream to blue. Then, they darkened further, and the flames turned a pitch dark accented with golden streaks.
His wings radiated a ghastly aura, and a wave of dark energy unavoidably struck all four of them. Instantly, Dewott, Cacturne, and Drampa tripped over themselves, losing their momentum and energy. Struggling to breathe, they crawled forward for only a second before, wheezing, they could only watch.
But Marshadow—to Owen's surprise—was completely unaffected. "What—"
He struck Owen in the jaw, and the battle was on.
"Gah!" Owen shot up, breathing quickly. Dizzy. So dizzy. His head hurt. Someone pushed him back down. "Wait—ha-hang on, where—"
"Owen, Owen, shh, it's okay," Zena whispered. "It's okay. You're here. Null Village. Your room."
"What? What?" He was still trying to get up, but Zena easily overpowered him. It took a minute or so, but he finally came back to his senses. "I… Dark Matter… buildings…"
"He left," Zena assuaged. "It… it was a warning. But he didn't do anything else."
Enet was crouched over him on the other side of the bed, sniffing his forehead. She was warm. Over her shoulder, Demitri and Mispy were watching with concern. Further back, Gahi was playing cards with Trina, apparently unaware that he'd woken up, or had just gotten bored of waiting for him to come to his senses.
"Where's Tim—er, Eon?" Owen asked.
"Sleeping. Do you want me to get him?"
"No—it's okay. Just checking. Everyone's okay?"
"They are."
His heart still hammered in his chest.
"What were you mumbling?" Zena asked softly. "It was so strange… You were talking about… Necrozma, and someone not understanding… You were growling, and something about shadows…"
Owen tensed. Should he… say that? Explain to…
They all stared at him with concern in their eyes. To the left of the room, even Amia seemed to be staring at him for one reason or another.
Yes. He had to tell them. No secrets. He'd promised. Who he promised to, he didn't really know, but that didn't matter.
"I had another memory," Owen said. "I… I answered to the name Wishkeeper. I was training a bunch of Pokémon. Basic exercises. We were getting ready for some kind of battle, and I was confronted by… Marshadow. Marshadow and three partners he had."
"What? He was fighting you?"
Owen nodded. "Trying to stop my leader—someone I called a friend. I remember… I was preparing these Pokémon as part of a massive effort to… to…" Owen trailed off. His heart was hammering again and he couldn't calm it down. Before he knew it, Zena had wrapped her ribbons around him, and that soothed him somewhat. Her cool body against his leafy feathers quelled his anxieties.
"What I'm about to say," Owen said, "I… I don't want you to… get worried. Okay?"
"W-well, now I'm gonna worry even more," Demitri whined.
Owen rubbed his face. "Please."
"I'll try…"
More silence. The concern in their eyes only strengthened, and all he wanted was to shrink away and hide.
Enet wrapped her claws around Zena's ribbons and tried to pull Owen into her mane again, but Zena tugged back, earning a growl.
"O-okay. Okay, sorry." Owen raised his hands, pulling free from Zena. He sat in the middle of her coils, legs crossed, hands on his feet. "…I'm…" He nodded. "Dark Matter didn't lie. I was… I fought for him once. N-not only that, I was one of his main tacticians. A lead general. Maybe the lead general, I don't know, I'm foggy on that."
As he spoke, their expressions didn't change dramatically. He was expecting them to. The fact that they didn't unnerved him, and he kept talking. "So, that settles it. I really was partnered w-with Dark Matter once. Somehow, something changed, from then to now, a-and…"
"Wait," Demitri said, the first one to break his stoic expression. "You actually believe that?"
"What?"
"Didn't you get that memory right after using that compass thing? Zena told us."
Mispy frowned disapprovingly.
"Well, yes, I—"
"What's to say that isn't some false memory?" Demitri asked.
"But it felt so…"
"Har," Mispy pointed out.
"What about—" Owen hesitated. "That's not… the same. Har was made from—His memories were just…"
"I dunno, Owen," Demitri said, arms crossed. "Are you sure this isn't just all fake memories Dark Matter tried to put in your head?"
Deny, deny, deny. Dark Matter's voice echoed in Owen's mind, not from manipulation, but from what he'd heard just the day before.
That was what mortals did. Denied what they disliked. But were they mortal? Was it all true? Or was this fake? Maybe none of it applied…
"This doesn't change anything, though, does it?" Zena asked.
"No, it doesn't." Owen quickly said. "I still can't, I mean, I obviously can't condone what Dark Matter did! I just… It's so strange that Dark Matter would have thought a fake memory"—it wasn't fake. It couldn't be—"would convince me to side with him. It won't. So…" He sank back. "I guess that's it. Tomorrow, we end this."
"That's what I wanna hear," Gahi murmured, nodding. He hopped to his feet. "Yeh. Gonna sleep now. Demitri, yer gonna make a good breakfast, yeah?"
"Of course!" Demitri glanced at Owen for approval.
The Grassmander forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah. Good night, you guys."
Satisfied, they all left, leaving just Zena and Enet behind to rest. Owen glanced at Amia, too, who had lost interest in what was happening and slid into a far corner of her cage.
"You think it's real," Enet said.
"H-huh?"
Her eyes shimmered in the dark, focused completely on Owen.
"What did she say?" Zena asked.
"You should tell her," Enet growled at Owen.
"She… she says that she knows I think it's real," Owen replied softly. "But… that still doesn't change anything. We still have to stop him and free everyone. That hasn't changed."
He could tell that Zena wanted to talk more, but he was so tired. Owen continued, "In the morning, I'll… No. It doesn't matter. We don't have time, right? We have to kill him, or whatever. And—"
Zena's ribbons wrapped gently around him, pulling him close. "It's going to be okay," she said.
That made him melt into her. He just needed to sleep.
"Right," he said, feeling more at ease. Nothing had changed. But he was at ease. "Let's rest."
While he slept, though, he would try one last time to reach out…
Owen wandered a starless void. He walked 'forward,' but it could have been toward anywhere. His steps made no echo and the ground lacked any sort of texture. He worried that he would trip over something, but there was nothing at all. Everything felt thick, like the air resisted any attempts to move, but he pressed onward.
Trailing lights glimmered over his shoulder, materializing into a Jumpluff and Lilligant.
"Try this way," Amelia encouraged. The Lilligant drifted left, adjusting her orange flower to make sure it was still there.
Klent, meanwhile, drifted ahead and looked left and right, bumping his pompoms together. "Mm, I'm not sure…"
"How can you tell?" Owen asked, feeling perpetually tired. "What is this… mental journey, anyway?"
"We aren't really sure ourselves. In the Grass realm, or, well, the version of it where we are now, there seemed to be a new passageway that nobody remembers. It led to here, and we saw a great light in it, once. Sifting through your memories… it seemed pretty clear that it was Necrozma's light."
"Necrozma… Then I can contact him through here?" Owen looked up. "That makes… some sense. It wasn't the first time I talked to him, but back then, he reached out to me."
"Perhaps it's the Tree of… what was it called?"
"It's not really a Tree of Life," Owen said.
"What is that?" Amelia asked, floating around Owen.
"An important landmark back when Kilo was younger," Owen said. "It was filled with energy. A rainbow, prismatic light that strengthened Pokémon who were near it, and maybe the whole world… Xerneas helped to guard it."
"What… happened to it?" Amelia's drifting slowed. "I don't remember anything like that, even in history books."
"Must have been destroyed…" Owen rubbed his head. "I don't know what happened to it. One day it… disappeared. But if I remember right, it was… somewhere south. Maybe a little southeast…?"
Klent seemed to be getting nervous after wandering so long in this part of Owen's mind.
"Do you want to go back?" Owen offered.
"No," he added quickly. "Sorry. Just, unfamiliar territory. Very strange…"
And then, in that great void, a flicker of light caught all their attention.
"Hey!" Owen shouted. "N-Necrozma? Is that you?!"
It was a persistent, golden splotch of light. It had to be him. "Can you—"
And then it overwhelmed them.
Blinding, golden light forced Owen to squeeze his eyes shut, and even then, he saw the light. He whimpered and covered his face and he saw the outline of the bones of his false body.
Finally it dimmed, but Owen was blind, and it didn't sound like Klent and Amelia were faring any better.
"Owen."
A warmth spread over him.
"How far you've traveled."
"N-Necrozma…" It hurt to open his eyes. "I wanted to talk to you. A-about everything. How much time do you have?"
"Very little. I am using… what light I have gathered to complete this connection. We have… moments."
"Then please, just answer me—why did I join Dark Matter? Was I tricked? Why would I do something like that?! Is it true at all?"
Owen cracked open an eye. Hurt less. He lowered his hands, then opened his eyes more.
Floating before him was not Necrozma, but a dim projection of him, a tall star with flickering, rainbow eyes.
"Yes." Necrozma dimmed more, but this seemed to be of perhaps remorse or sorrow. Owen couldn't tell. "It is true. You joined Dark Matter, and you were not tricked. At least, not in the way I believe you are thinking."
"Then… then why?!"
Necrozma hesitated.
"Please, tell me. I need to know. Just be honest! What is it with you gods and not being honest?!"
"I am sorry, Owen. Please, be still. Calm your mind. Stress… will quicken the connection's shattering. Stillness. I need stillness."
That was very hard to do when Owen's mind was racing. But he tried. He took his breaths, he meditated, he tried to stay calm. Klent and Amelia did the same, halfheartedly.
Amelia spoke up first. "Look, we're about to fight Dark Matter. He feeds off of doubt and stuff, right? So, we need you to clear that up. Otherwise, that guy's plans might work out!"
"On a basic level," Klent said, "we know that Dark Matter is evil. Why, then, would Owen willingly choose to side with him?"
"I just need to know," Owen begged. "Then, I can see that things changed. And… a-and I can, I don't know, I…"
"You are lost."
"OF COURSE I'M LOST!" Owen snapped, his tiny voice cracking. Necrozma dimmed dangerously and Owen quickly composed himself. Deep breaths. Slow breaths. "I'm… Everything. E-everything is on my shoulders. Kilo. Everyone who's ever died in Kilo. The Voidlands, everyone here, maybe even Kanto, and all my past lives, and everything I don't even know yet, what am I supposed to do?! I s-spent so much of my life following someone else, how am I supposed to know what to do?! I'm just a Pokémon! I'm just…"
"Follow your heart," Necrozma replied.
"My heart. My heart." Owen laughed, falling onto his rear. His hands squeezed his knees, tempted to pull the feathers out.
He didn't. Deep breaths. Long breaths. Hold.
"Do you know about the Thousand Hearts? Because those are the Hearts I've been following for a while."
Necrozma said nothing. He listened.
"They stood for working together to make the world a better place. To take outlaws…" He thought of Jerry. "And help them get on the right foot again. Anam… believed that no matter how terrible the crime was, they deserved a chance to correct themselves. That they could contribute back what they took away. I… I believed that, with everything I had. Now, seeing how the world is, what that forgiveness got us, I don't know anymore."
"Forgiveness," Necrozma repeated. "Why are you bringing that up now?"
"Anam wants to save Dark Matter. In… in some way, that means he forgives him, right? For all of this. I can't… understand it."
"But it's eating at you. You want to forgive. Not just Dark Matter, either."
Eon's screwed up, crying face etched itself into Owen's memory like a scar.
"Forgiving people… giving them the benefit of the doubt… trusting them with so much of myself… They all took advantage of that. How many others are gonna…"
"You don't want to forgive them?"
Of course he didn't, he wanted to say. For all they did, they deserved to have all the suffering they'd put on him. Reflected back. Right?
His heart wasn't in it.
"I don't understand why I want to help them."
"That is who you are," Necrozma said. "There are people in the world who only want to help, at the expense of themselves. And there are those who take, and take, and take, until there is nothing of you left. Who in your life is like that?"
Owen thought about them. Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi were part of his team. He didn't remember when or how, just that they were. Zena was there, around his body right then. She didn't take; they didn't take. Even Jerry had gone out of his way to get food for him. He wasn't taking. Owen spent some time thinking about Eon next. Tim, his trainer. In the past, he certainly didn't take. He gave and gave and gave, up to and beyond his very life. But then he'd gone down the wrong path, and… he took lives. All so he could take Owen back.
"What is Dark Matter?" Owen asked Necrozma. "Are you saying he's someone… who only took from me?"
Owen wanted to believe it. What else would the very embodiment of negativity be, but something that takes and takes?
"Can you think of anyone else in your life," Necrozma said, "who did nothing but take from you?"
He couldn't. Was it because he was too forgiving? Was he blind? Was that what Necrozma was trying to say?
"You're saying Dark Matter took advantage of my willingness to help," Owen said, voice wavering. "Is that what you think?"
Klent and Amelia glanced hopefully at Necrozma.
"What does your heart say?"
"It says that's not true," Owen said, hand squeezing tight. "Which is why I need you to tell me… why I'm wrong."
A pause. Klent and Amelia seemed worried again. "Owen," the Lilligant started, "Necrozma is right there. How can you… tell him that? How can you just say, hey, maybe Dark Matter isn't so bad?"
"Is that what you wish to tell me?" Necrozma asked, completely calm.
Owen's eyes were squeezed shut. "You were the one who said we only had moments. Just tell me, a-am I wrong? Dark Matter's going to attack Null Village in a matter of kilos and I don't know what to do about it! H-he's going to kill everyone and make sure I'm alone until I just give up! What do I do, how am I supposed to beat that, I'm just a Charmander! I denied becoming Solgaleo! Probably because I knew I wasn't ever going to be fit for it! I can't take on Dark Matter! I can't take on anything like this…"
"Calm. Stillness."
"Right, right, calm, stillness…" Owen rubbed his eyes, breathing harder.
"Calm," Necrozma said lowly.
Owen shuddered, holding his breath. Dizzy. He felt dizzy. In, out. In, hold, out. Deep. Slow. His eyes were hot with tears. He was probably crying in the Voidlands, too. A phantom sensation of Zena rubbing a ribbon on his forehead followed. The breathing got easier.
"I'm running out of time," Necrozma said.
"If I can't beat Dark Matter, and he's just going to kill everybody I care for if I don't join him, and if I don't even know why I'm fighting him to begin with… th-the only conclusion I can come to is the one I said I wouldn't do. Joining him."
"Is that what you want?" Necrozma asked.
"…I'll make my decision," Owen said, "if you tell me why I joined. T-tell me why I betrayed you."
"So," Necrozma said, "you betrayed me. You know that?"
"I—"
It hadn't occurred to Owen just then, but he did. He really had betrayed Necrozma. And… now he was talking to him.
"I…"
"Owen?" Amelia asked worriedly. "That, ha, that's just a joke, right?"
Necrozma dimmed further. "I have been sealing your memories the moment you arrived," Necrozma said. "I have been unsealing them slowly. So you could handle them. If what you want to know is why you joined Dark Matter… I will give those to you next, slowly. But, Owen, I will tell you now."
He betrayed Necrozma. Why, then, was Necrozma helping him now?
"You sided with Dark Matter because you wanted to save Kilo," Necrozma answered, "along with Dark Matter himself. I sought to destroy both."
Then… Dark Matter told the truth.
"Follow your heart," Necrozma said. "You will make the right decision in the end. I have faith in you."
"You… have faith in me. After telling me what you did. A-after saying that Dark Matter… didn't lie at all."
Necrozma began to fade. Owen had a strange feeling that the dragon of light was smiling. "You do not need my answer."
"What does that MEAN?!" Owen screamed, like it would make Necrozma stay longer.
But that was the last of him, and Owen's tenuous hold of this half-reality slipped away.
The air was charged with persistent dread. Angelo smelled breakfast from Shady. Smelled extravagant, like he was still trying to apologize for being responsible for his father's death. Maybe after a thousand breakfasts he'd consider it.
"Mmbb."
"Why should I?" Angelo groaned. "Maybe I should stay in bed all day."
"Tsskk!"
"Like any of that matters…"
Shady gently placed a bowl of soup on a table nearby and slid it closer. It did smell good…
The Smeargle eventually found himself sitting up, taking his first bite. Then another. He glanced at Shady, who was sitting at the foot of his bed, his misshapen eyes downcast.
"Today's the day," Angelo said ruefully. "They're going to gather up the elites and go north to the vortex's center. And I'll be here while they all curse my name as they die, because maybe I could have saved them with… whatever my talents are."
His shoulders sagged. He looked at his finished art pieces. He'd done them all, aside from the next chapter of Druddigon Cube Ultra. But without a proper printing press—it was still recovering, and prioritized news rather than entertainment—it would be hard to publish the next chapter.
Oh, to be like the hero. A little dumb, but blissfully ignorant enough, and strong enough, that the world changed around him. How easy it was to live that life.
"Rrh?"
"Oh, sorry," Angelo said. "I was… thinking. A-about what it means to have power. If… you have power, are you supposed to use it? Or… or can I live… as I want? I didn't ask to be talented. Is that… my duty? That's how the Arceans would follow it. But the Mewites… they'd certainly say I would follow my heart. Hmph. But look who came to save us. Arceus. Perhaps a life of duty was the correct answer. Mindless duty until I worked myself into the grave…"
"Ouuu…"
"I don't think there is a middle ground," Angelo said. "Not in a time like this. H-how can I possibly… halfway assist in something like a war?"
"Drrww."
Angelo shuddered. Even working in the back lines terrified him. He'd be killed! They'd go after him for sure! He was certain of it. The moment he stepped into the front lines, he would be spotted and killed by the opposition for being too dangerous. This wasn't some mindless feral—this was a god. A god that shouted his declaration of the apocalypse as his first act.
Shady had gotten near Angelo before he'd realized it and pressed its… Angelo assumed forehead against his side. "Aahh."
"Well, thank you for the kind words, but it doesn't make it any less scary." The soup bowl was empty and Shady reached out with an amorphous tendril and pulled it onto its head. It hopped off and headed for the other room to clean it.
"…F-fine. I'll go to the square and see what's needed. From the back lines. I'll prepare some Tailwind, or some other conjurations to help the outbound fighters, a-and… and I'll get as close as… comfortable for…" Angelo's heart raced. "Just… just this once. It will be a short battle. Just this once…"
Angelo held his breath and stopped at his bedroom's exit. Shady looked at him encouragingly. He continued through the living room, then his storefront, and finally to the exit.
And promptly froze where he stood.
The gravity of it all washed over him. He was going to war against a demon that held all of Kilo in a shadowy grip. One that twisted Dungeons and summoned wraiths. He was going to witness some death march toward the vortex where Pokémon and wraiths would tear each other apart until nothing but darkness and blood coated the dry northern roads.
And he would become part of that carnage. Inevitably, he would die. Deep in his soul, he knew that would happen, and he collapsed to his knees at the exit to his home.
"I can't," he whispered. "I can't do this. I can't…"
Shady bubbled something but Angelo heard none of it.
"I can't, I can't…" He rubbed his arms, then wrapped them around himself. He couldn't stop shaking. Visions of what was to come flashed in his mind of bodies falling and blood spattering around him. Wraiths clawing at his flesh and tearing out his living organs. They'd leave nothing of him behind.
He didn't know how long he'd been there. Everything was cold. His fur did nothing. But at some point, he noticed the presence of someone to his right. Taller, an aura of power. And this person knelt down.
"Angelo," he said gently, a paw holding his shoulder. "You look truly awful. Come, let's go inside. Come on, come on…"
He obeyed without thinking, putting most of his weight on this person, whose body was thin in frame but with long, matted fur. Messy fur. It reminded him of himself, in a way. Oh, how long had it been since he'd even bathed, during all this? He must've smelled awful.
Once again, he was in bed, staring emptily forward. It still didn't register who he was talking to. Everything was muddled.
"Do you need anything?" the person asked.
"I want to die," Angelo said quietly. The words tumbled out of him. Did he even mean it? Why did he say that?
"You don't mean that," the person said gently, holding him more firmly now. "Tell me what's wrong."
"They're going to kill me. I… I don't want to go that way. There's nowhere for me to go. I have no way out. I can't, I can't, I…"
"Nobody is forcing you to do anything," he said gently.
"Everyone is counting on me. I'm the son of Angelo, the hero. I'm the next in line with Mew's Blessing. I carry the legacy of all Legends in my paint. And now I need to fight. I need to, I need to… a-and I'll die. They'll kill me, and… and I'll… I can't do it. I can't do it…"
"You're in no state to fight. You don't need to."
"I can't tell them that."
"You don't need to," he repeated firmly. "You're going to be okay. Not everyone must fight, Angelo."
"If I don't fight, people will die. They'll die instead of me. Wouldn't it be better if I… i-if I…" Angelo trembled again, hugging himself, curling tight. His knees pressed against his chest.
"You'll be of no use to anyone dead," he replied. "You need rest. Understood?"
"I can't rest. I can't rest when a fight's about to start. When the whole world is… c-counting on me, I… I can't do it, I…"
"Angelo…"
"Don't Angelo me; it's very clear I'm needed! Why else would Phol visit me day to day? Why else would Rhys force me into training, or why would I be called for all of these… these clear hints of my talents that I've… wasted on art all these years!? I've wasted my life as a coward, a-and now I can't even muster up the courage to fight when I'll die anyway when we fail!"
Angelo weaved his paw in the air, creating the head of a great beast that opened its mouth to spew flames blindly forward. They barely did anything, couldn't even scorch the wall. He tried again, but the Pokémon's paw held him firmly.
"Enough," he commanded.
Angelo gasped, jerking his hand back. Trapped. Couldn't do anything. Couldn't fight, couldn't hide, couldn't die. He had no options. So, he curled again, trembling, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I'm such a failure," he whimpered. "I've done nothing with all my might. All because I just wanted to live peacefully, like it's some great sin…"
"Hey!" a shrill, new voice called from Angelo's home entrance. "Are we going or what?!"
The person next to Angelo growled in annoyance. "I will be there shortly! Go on ahead!"
"Your speed will need to be 150% faster," buzzed another.
"I shall handle it."
"That Smeargle coming with us?" the shrill voice asked again.
"No, he is not."
"Then what're you doing?!"
"Leave. I shall catch up!"
"Whatever. You better hurry up, Rhys!"
Angelo's eyes shot wide. Those other voices were gone, but he finally looked at who was talking to him, feeling stupid for not thinking enough to verify. He'd been so out of it, all out of sorts, that…
It was Rhys. The Lucario's eyes were tired and he looked like he'd skipped the past few nights of sleep, if he even had to. He was like a demigod to Angelo. Like all those other strange elites. And he was here…
"I…"
He'd said that Angelo wasn't going with the others. Had he said that? Or did he imagine it?
"I'm sorry."
"No. There will be no apologies." Rhys sat on Angelo's bedside, hand on Angelo's wrist. "I was so focused on the mission that I didn't realize all the true weight over your shoulders."
"I still need to help…"
"You need to do what's best for everyone, but that includes yourself." Rhys pressed down, like he was making sure Angelo could feel the weight. "You are in no state to fight. You will rest. If you are needed, it will be for supplies in the town square to send our way. Your best techniques seem to be ones for utility rather than combat; put that to use when you are ready."
"I don't need to fight?"
"No." Rhys stood up. "And that's just fine. You are an artist. You uplift others through morale, not through muscle."
Angelo was sure Rhys was just saying this to help his mood… but at least he was off the hook. He couldn't shake the nagging sense of shame, though. A sickened feeling twisted around in his gut. All that training and thought and he wasn't even going to go. What worth was he, then?
"You need to see the others," Rhys stated, never taking his eyes off of him. "You have energy to spare and this is no time to feel weak. You are not."
"L-Lucario can't read minds, can they? I thought that was just a rumor…"
"We cannot." Rhys held a paw forward, which Angelo hesitantly grabbed. Pulling Angelo to his feet, Rhys went on, "But I know the ebb and flow of an aura well enough to have my guesses."
Shady bobbed its body excitedly, encouragingly.
"I suppose I can go," Angelo said. "Where can I help? I'll… start with resupplying more of those Technical Machines. Those were in dire need, right?"
"Yes, we still need more. Start there." Rhys nodded. "Take care, Angelo. May this battle be our last against Dark Matter."
"Right…" He felt so empty, but… he had to at least, at the very least, help out in town. While all the others risked their lives. "Um—good luck."
Rhys nodded firmly, and then, in a single leap, crossed several blocks toward Kilo's edge.
Alexander had chosen to take a gamble. Getting reports of Dark Matter's movements and the rumors of South Null Village, he deduced that the attack was nigh. If Alexander traveled there by wing, he would not get there in time. He would need to travel even faster, and, therefore, had called upon the efforts of a small, specialized team while Qitlan was left behind to hold down the fort.
Leph, the lost daughter of Arceus, would alternate Teleportation with Aster to take Alexander forward faster than ever. Alexander would speed forward with them tied by darkness to his body, like chains. After all, he still was not sure if he could trust them.
That left Mhynt to ride on Alexander's back, accelerating Alexander's flight with her power. With this kind of travel speed, and the four of them at once, the forest below them was nothing but a blur of purples and blacks. Trees fell from the sheer speed they flew, and the odd shockwaves they left behind from the Teleports created small craters when at low altitudes. Mhynt was certain they'd decimated a small village during one of them, and Alexander teased her for that pang of guilt he'd sensed from her.
"We'll need to slow down so our arrival isn't obvious," Alexander said. "But we should have more than enough time. I can already see that strange… tree ahead. A convenient landmark." He tugged at Aster and Leph's shadowy chains. Leph grunted; hers were embedded into her shoulders. Aster yelped; his chains dug into his upper back.
Mhynt had no such chains. Instead, the Treecko sat between Alexander's wings, mentally preparing for the battle ahead.
"It won't be long now," Alexander said. "Soon…"
"Soon… this war for my Voidlands will be over." Dark Matter raised a single, scaly arm to the air.
Behind him, in a clearing of Null Forest, a lake's worth of Void Shadows writhed and swirled. The moment he squeezed his fist, they all stood to attention, that black sea perfectly still.
These souls were new and old. Some were ancient, here since the first war, powerful souls reduced to shells of their former selves, if that. Some were new, dead from the recent seals breaking after Anam's downfall. These souls still had a vague echo of what they used to be, having wings or arms or even a shadowy face if they were particularly strong. He was interested in those… because they were already geared for combining into something greater. Mutant spirits… would be his ace against Null Village.
Ahead, the Radiant Tree of Life taunted him. It was a little brighter today. Owen was undoubtedly rallying the villagers, designating safe zones. None of it mattered. This was only the beginning of the end, but Dark Matter was patient. But he was not foolish. Any extra day given was another day Owen could find some way to gain an advantage.
Best to eliminate them all at once.
And with the mutants…
And with the mutants… Nevren was certain that Null Village would be bolstered.
"All right, everyone," the Alakazam said to the mutants who remained in Quartz HQ. "As you may have seen, all power has been diverted from the lab to this room alone. We will be forming a portal to the Voidlands. I will send you all inside to strike Dark Matter. I trust at least some of you have read the debrief?"
Awkward silence.
"Wonderful. Follow your leaders, namely whatever Owen and those associated with him say. That should be easy enough. Now, Owen looks different now. I've been told that he is now a Charmander, roughly half their normal size, with green feathers and a brown autumn leaf for a tail. You will be fighting someone who can change his appearance at a moment's notice; trust the judgement of your commanders and strike your targets. Do not go berserk, and subdue any of your allies who have done so. Are we clear?"
A few affirmative nods this time. "Perfect. Then if that's the case…"
"We're just about ready." Rhys stood in the northern outskirts of Kilo Mountain. Far behind them was the ascending climb into Kilo Village, and not long ahead of them—perhaps only a short walk—was the familiar path that led to Hot Spot Cave. The entry had been blown open from the attacks a moon ago, and the vortex was swirling above them. There was a noticeable hole in it where the sky shined through, but otherwise it was the same as before.
Behind Rhys was a replica of Team Alloy—Har, Ani, Lygo, and Ax. Har's Perceive would be invaluable. They could find supplies in Rhys' room that they needed to acquire, if they were not destroyed, and there was also the slimmest chance that they would be able to find the bodies of their Voided companions still imprisoned inside. Their goal was to strike Dark Matter and rescue or take what they could, if at all possible.
Simple in concept. But as the sky rumbled above, the purple clouds expanding ever slowly, it would be anything but.
"We've got this," Willow said confidently, hopping on ADAM's beak.
"Hmph." Step crossed her arms. "We shall see." The icy Aggron eyed the portal. "If we see Dark Matter, I will fight him myself."
"Don't be reckless," Rhys chided. "This isn't going to be easy."
Step thumped her tail on the ground, making a loud, deep rumble. "If he feeds on fear, I will give him none."
She marched forward, leading the way that Rhys hesitated to follow.
As he stared at the vortex, he could only think to himself…
"I have a bad feeling about this," Angelo murmured, stacking unused Technical Machines in one corner while sketching little symbols of light onto another. Shady bobbed confidently next to him, some of his eyes narrowed with determination.
"Nnn!"
"I know, but a… worse feeling than usual. Does that make sense?"
"Bbb…"
"Well of course it's anxiety! But, well, I, er, oh, forget it…"
"Yo, Angelo!" someone called.
"Uyy…" Angelo rubbed his eyes and waved at the approaching, metallic Machoke. "I have it right here," he said, gesturing to the discs. "All prepared."
"Good work." He gently patted Angelo's shoulder. "Hey, by the way, Phol wanted to know how you were doing. He's busy taking care of Tann—Emily. She's been getting more agitated than usual."
"Oh, do you want me to do some Aromatherapy?" Angelo offered.
"Yeah, actually. Take a break from all this."
Somewhat grateful, Angelo ran for the hospital, though by the time he'd arrived, there was some kind of uproar with Phol right in the middle. A helpless Blissey was trying to console the Vaporeon—Tanneth or Emily depending on the day—who was screaming and covering in the corner. Meanwhile, Phol was attempting a full-body tackle on Leo, who was trying to crawl his way out of the hospital with a crazed look in his eyes.
Maybe I'll come back later. Angelo spun on his heel.
But the moment he did, he noticed that the whole town, aside from the hospital, was quieter than usual. Pokémon in the streets were staring at something to the south, some squinting, some already running. Angelo didn't want to look, but curiosity got the better of him. After finding a good, flat roof, Angelo drew a small symbol in front of him and swiped it. In a flash, he appeared on the rooftop, and then realized he wasn't the only one. Several Pokémon had climbed up—mostly winged Pokémon—to get a better view over the crater's edge and all the other buildings.
The sky was black and creeping forward. White flashes and a sickening, purple-black rain poured down. And to the southwest, where Void Basin was, a great spire of darkness pierced the clouds…