Chapter 139 – Gone, and Remembered

"You must think you're perfectly clever," Qitlan said, sneering, but Owen could see the hostility in his eyes. "I've already figured everything out."

The Charmeleon slowly got up from the wall, glancing at his shoulder that now had a hole going through it. "I just made that bed," Owen mumbled to himself, noticing that the cushion had been similarly pierced.

"Playing the role of chaos in an attempt to throw me off will only result in your ruin," Qitlan continued, pacing into Owen's room and closing the door behind him.

At least twenty of Qitlan's long strides separated the two of them. They'd generously given him a room far too large for the Charmeleon to ever need. He could sprout wings and fly freely if he wanted.

"Role of chaos?" repeated Owen. "No. I'm only… cashing in what you gave me. Thanks for the prizes… by the way."

Another beam of water smashed through Owen's other shoulder. Owen's vision was muddled for a moment, but then he came back to his senses enough to see Qitlan casually striding forward. Only ten steps separated them.

"Go on. Heal yourself," Qitlan said.

Owen was tempted to defy him, but he knew there was little need for that now. Qitlan was trying to intimidate him. Or maybe he was just upset.

Still… he could try bringing this to his advantage.

Slowly, Owen's wounds began to heal. Red scales turned to green feathers; flesh seeped into place with vines. Slowly, that grass weaved its way into the wound before shifting back to red, hard scales and bone and blood.

"Don't think that picking some random soldier will give you an advantage," Qitlan said. "Every single one of their souls is held under lock and key. They will not go against Alexander no matter what trickery you try to do with them."

It was odd of Qitlan to warn him about that. Wasn't that obvious? Or was he feeling vulnerable? No, Qitlan was too experienced in this sort of thing to let a little chaos get to him in that way. Perhaps this was yet another trick. Trying to get him vulnerable.

But that left Owen with two options. Act unintimidated and show his hand? Or act fearful and give Qitlan what he wanted?

"Speak," Qitlan said sharply.

"Uh—I, uh…" Owen still needed time to think and Qitlan gave him none. "Why're you so mad?"

"Mad? I'm not mad. I'm disappointed."

"And you… shoot people if you're disappointed?" Owen asked.

"It's a hobby." Qitlan took aim with a finger, paused, and then sighed. "Not even worth the energy."

He was definitely toying with him. Qitlan was trying to get a rise out of him again. He could act nervous, so he did, fidgeting and letting his flame spark a few times. "Well, uh, I, uh… oh!" The surprise was genuine. "I finished the Gone Pebbles. Two, actually."

"Oh?" And it seemed Qitlan's was as well, but even his Perceive had trouble determining if it was genuine or not. "Alright. No more shooting. Why don't you show me?"

Owen nodded and scampered to a small bedside table, opening the drawer below a dimly glowing lamp of crystal. Inside, there were two mundane pebbles that resonated well with aura. He grinned and presented two of them to Qitlan. "I finally got the hang of making them," he explained, "and I was able to make two before getting tired."

After tossing the first one to Qitlan, he pulled out the second, hanging onto it.

"Hm." Qitlan studied it. "And I simply tap into the energy stored within to activate it, just like channeling the energy into a Geo Pebble for energized throwing?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm assuming," Owen said. "Seems obvious to me."

Owen stood nervously. As mundane as it was, now, and as little as he respected Qitlan, he was still being evaluated for his work. And it was a lot of work and spare time.

Qitlan seemed to scowl at Owen just then, but he clutched the stone all the same, focusing his energy into it. Trails of water spiraled around Qitlan's arm and into the stone, and then out again. Trails of golden light followed the water as it seeped back into his arm and shoulder. There was a pause… and Qitlan was, however briefly, in a trance. His eyes relaxed, closing. His whole countenance had changed, like he had been taken to another world.

When tears fell from Qitlan's cheeks, it left Owen in staggered awe. Qitlan was coming back to his senses, so Owen straightened his back and tried to look formal again.

"So… so, did it work?" Owen asked delicately.

Qitlan gently placed the depleted pebble on Owen's bed. His eyes finally opened, and that cold stare returned. But Owen couldn't ignore that little light flickering in his eyes.

"It did," he replied simply, curtly. "Very good. You'll be able to make more?"

"Yeah. Do, uh, did you want the other—"

A jet of water pierced Owen through the heart. He staggered back, wanting to shout in surprise, but only blood came out. He struck the shelf and collapsed to a knee, squeezing his eyes shut to focus before the blood loss forced him to pass out. He wasn't sure if that was possible, but he couldn't afford the risk. Not now.

"Did you really think light would 'purify' me?" Qitlan said, wrapping moist fingers around Owen's head, pulling him back to his feet. He forced Owen to stare back at him. "That a little light would put me under your domain?"

Unable to talk, Owen only stared at Qitlan with exaggerated confusion, as if that would somehow convey more effectively how absurd Qitlan sounded.

"You should know, Wishkeeper, that your deceptive tactics do not work on someone who used to operate under your command. I know your tired strategies. We've had centuries to sharpen them against you. You are useless. Helpless, like a hatchling still wearing its shell."

He tried to talk again. Getting there, but it was only gurgling coughs.

"Alexander lays claim to my soul," Qitlan said, pulling Owen off the ground by the head so he dangled there, straining his neck. "His power dominates me and will snuff out whatever pathetic influence you try to sneak inside… Do not forget that."

Once again, he tried. This time, raspy words came. "I wasn't… trying. I just made… a Pebble."

"That warmth is not how it feels," Qitlan said. "I'm going to have it analyzed. If this was your plan… consider it an abject failure." He dropped Owen to the floor, taking the second pebble with him. "If you are truly telling the truth… you will make more. Memories are precious here, after all. They can extend an identity's life."

He walked to the end of the room, analyzing the stone. "Goodbye, then."

"What did you see?" Owen rasped, air flowing easier again. The vines growing around his chest enclosed around the flesh, transitioning back into familiar bone and blood.

"What?"

"What… did you see?" Owen asked again. "The memory. You were crying… What was it of?"

Qitaln was just barely within the range of his Perceive. He felt his heart pounding a little harder, his lip quiver, his tail imperceptibly twitch.

"I have no reason to tell you," Qitlan said icily, fingers turning to doorknob.

"Someone you loved?" Owen asked. He felt another little twitch, the fingers barely flexing as the knob turned. "Someone who Voided?" The fingers relaxed, a smirk twitching on Qitlan's face by a millimeter. No, he was getting colder. "Or someone not here at all… that you haven't seen?"

The smirk was there, but it wavered, and that may as well have been a cry that he was right.

"Don't… don't you think they'd be upset at how you are now?" Owen asked.

He fired another jet of water, and Owen was tempted to block it with a Protect, but knew not to. That wouldn't be good right now. Instead, his arm twitched, but he feigned it to be a failure to react, and the jet hit him in the shoulder, leaving another clean hole into the wall.

"I've had enough of this." And, hastily, Qitlan left, fleeing from his Perceive.

The door shut. Owen Perceived Qitlan rushing down the hall at a brisk pace, his emotions a little more visible. Pain and shame, maybe. Denial, trying to forget. Regret? Was that regret? Owen didn't know Qitlan well enough to place those body movements to any particular emotion yet. Maybe he was just projecting, assuming Qitlan would have reacted the same way he would have. The same way Wishkeeper must feel about all that happened.

At least, that was Owen's hope.

"Guess he has a heart after all," Owen said to himself, laughing a little. It's really too bad… he doesn't want it to beat…

Without a rift in the sky to reveal the sun, the time for rest came whenever their bodies called for it. Team Alloy and their partners were all given a large, spare room in an area that felt similar to the quarantine rooms when checking for Void Shadow doppelgangers. Thankfully, they were touched up to be homier, even if it was temporary housing.

Still, could they not have at least given them a few extra rooms besides just the one? Zena couldn't help but think it a few times, but she also knew it was on short notice. That they got shelter at all was a kindness in a world like this.

"Well, I think that's everything we have at our disposal," Zena reported, her ribbons placing a pile of blankets forward. "All one size. Smaller Pokémon can share. Larger Pokémon can double up."

"So in other words, you 'n Owen," Gahi said with a skeptical stare.

"W-well, I wouldn't demand it…"

Mispy rolled her eyes and pulled Demitri and two blankets closer, nibbling his shoulder.

Gahi crossed his arms, glancing at Jerry.

"Nope," Jerry replied.

"Feh… Whatever."

Zena tilted her head. Didn't Gahi always enjoy resting alone? Or… After glancing at Owen, she saw that he seemed concerned, too. Something was bothering Gahi again.

"…Oh." Of course. She hadn't realized it. During their rests between flying, they'd always slept as a large group while taking watch over the rest so they weren't ambushed. Back at Null Village, Gahi had been spending his nights with Team Alloy or…

"What?" Gahi growled. "Look, I, eh… I dunno. Place is cold, 'n stuff. Blankets ain't gonna do it all."

"It's too bad Trina didn't come with us, but she's still weak," Zena said, nodding. "You two have really taken a shine to each other, haven't you?"

"A shine?" Gahi asked. "Well, sure. Y'know, she's a lot nicer when that whole Bug control thing ain't front 'n center. Well, nah. Figure she's always been that way…"

"Really?" Zena curled around Owen habitually, giving him time to adjust and get cozy. "What makes you think that?"

"What, you think she ain't?" Gahi asked.

"I think she's nice," Zena clarified. "I didn't think you two would… get along."

"Y'know, I agree," Owen admitted, finally situated enough that he leaned against Zena like a pillow. "Gahi, Trina's sort of, like, a ruler of her own community of mutants, and don't you usually hate being ordered around?"

"It ain't like that. She respects'm and stuff. We had a talk about it. She doesn't see it as her servants, more like people she takes care of 'cause they were mistreated. Sure, maybe it's a li'l high 'n mighty, but when I said I didn't wanna follow her, she listened." Gahi crossed his arms, turning his head. His antennae twitched. "Changed m' perspective on 'er."

Zena and Owen exchanged a look. Then, they both looked at Mispy and Demitri. They had the same look.

"Um, Gahi," Demitri said gently, "do you miss her right now?"

"Eh?" Gahi looked confused at first, but then stared at his belly, as if it somehow had the answers. "Never thought 'bout it that way… How come?"

Jerry rubbed his eyes and glared at Eon. "Would it kill you to give 'em some social awareness to go with the killing machine stuff?"

"I—I didn't do that part of any designing," Eon stuttered.

"Of course you didn't," Jerry muttered. "Does seem more like something Nevren would do, with how you guys talk about him… And how Palkia is." He shuddered. "Can't believe Barky picked someone like him to control space."

Owen was settling a little more against Zena. She recognized that he was getting sleepy. Distantly, she wondered if this Owen was properly mortal. That meant the one in Cipher City was the immortal one. Well, that just meant he had to be guarded more carefully.

Gahi's tail flicked. "So, we're headin' back t'morrow?"

"Gods, you're hopeless." Jerry flopped onto his beanbag and tucked under his wings.

"Just come over here," Owen said with a sigh, gesturing for Gahi to come closer. Zena smiled a little sadly, deciding that if Gahi wasn't going to acknowledge himself, they would have to do it for him tonight.

"Mmff, fine, if y'need me," Gahi murmured, rolling with his beanbag until he was next to Zena.

Demitri and Mispy were already cuddled up. Jerry was drifting off. Eon had melted into a pile of pink slime in the corner, bubbling peacefully.

The windows were closed; the lights within the room were dimmed. It was as close to 'nighttime' as they could manage, and even then, red light gently crept through cracks in the window veil. Zena had gotten used to that kind of light.

There was a slight glimmer from Gahi's body from that stray light. It caught Zena's attention any time he shifted his body or moved his wings. Gods, he really was glossy with those scales.

Another glare of light caught her attention just as she was drifting off. That was when she realized Gahi was staring at her. Intensely.

Gahi was a strange one. All of Team Alloy had their quirks. But staring at her at night was downright creepy. She was tempted to snap him out of it with a little pop of ice, but it was too weird. Her eyes darted to the others, who were asleep, and then back at Gahi, who continued to stare intensely at her. Focused. When they made eye contact, he tilted his head, looking almost conversational.

But he said nothing. And she didn't want to reply. Everyone was asleep, even Owen.

Gahi's brow furrowed, like he was concentrating hard on staring at her face.

Oh, skies. Zena suppressed a sigh. She wasn't familiar with this, but the Flygon's twinkling, starry wings in the dark room gave it away. "Gahi? Can you hear me?"

"Oi, there y'are!" Gahi looked more pleased than when he won sparring matches. "Took y'long enough ter answer!"

"That isn't how telepathy works, I think, Gahi. Are you trying to tap into your Psychic Orb?"

"Sure it is, I'm Psychic now, so I gotta know how ter do that. Half you guys have telepathy anyway."

Patience, Zena, patience. "Was something bothering you?"

"Eh… no." Gahi glanced away.

Somehow Zena had a feeling she was the one being psychic here. "Tell me what's on your mind that you had to speak specifically to me, Gahi. It's about Owen, isn't it?"

"No."

Zena waited.

"…But y'reminded me about somethin'."

"What did I remind you of, Gahi."

"Like… so… you'n Owen… and me'n Owen… and Mhynt'n Owen… 'n Azelf'n Owen…"

"He's lived a long life," Zena said. "To be honest, I can't wrap my head around it, but it's not as if having relationships that… ended is unheard of."

"M'yeah. Guess so." Gahi's eyes looked around randomly, and even in the dark, it was easy to see his shiny limbs moving around in search of a comfortable position that always changed. "Look, I just wanted to say, 'm kinda… probably not gonna be lookin' fer Owen in that way. Dunno how ter break that ter Azelf. But Owen and I, we ain't… I mean, maybe we were, but we're just buds, y'know?"

"You don't have to be so nervous, Gahi," Zena said.

"Well, sure I do! You c'n blast me with ice!"

"Do you really think I would do that?"

"Yer, like, intense. I dunno! But yer always lookin' out fer'm and stuff… I dunno…"

Why now, of all times? Zena couldn't even remember if she'd had a long conversation with Gahi before. If Gahi had these conversations with anyone. Now that she thought about it, if Gahi was like that, then it must really be bothering him…

"This must be confusing for you," Zena said. "All of this… other-half business, and your feelings for Trina. Are you worried?"

No reply. She got him, but she didn't know how to help. This was Gahi's battle.

"Just talk," Zena offered. "Communicate. It… helps. I think talking and making sure everyone understands each other is more important than ever. Keeping secrets and hidden agendas… That's what got the whole world in this mess in the first place, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah, sure. Talk. Like it's that easy…"

"We're talking now. And weren't you afraid I'd ice you?"

"Yeah, yeah…"

Zena attempted a warm smile, unsure if he could see it in the dark. "Did you want me to help in some other way?" she offered. "Talk to Trina? To Owen?"

"Dunno… Like, ain't that fer me ter do, er somethin'?"

"Maybe. I'm not very experienced with this myself."

"Eh? What's that mean?"

"Well… Unlike all of you, I don't have any… amnesia, or past life, or second self. I'm just Milotic Zena. I'm… pretty normal, actually, compared to all of this. Makes me feel small, if I had to be honest."

"Small? Yer huge!" Gahi said, and Zena wanted to feel insulted, but knew by now he didn't mean it that way. "And fer bein' normal, yer the one stickin' up ter th' gods practically as easily as Owen does it."

"Well, if only because I'd been wronged by one or two in particular…"

"Yeah, but, it still counts. Y'were there befer we ev'n came back."

"Owen was there for me before I was there for him," Zena pointed out. "I remember that much. All those memories coming back… Looking at it now, when I'm more—more, well, distanced? Distanced from it. The way I was toward him… wasn't healthy, was it?"

Gahi stared blankly. A gust of wind could have blown through the back of his eyes cleanly.

Zena sighed softly. "Owen and I were together out of desperation. I was hopelessly lonely, and Owen happened to rescue me. Owen was desperate for something solid and tangible, and I was… there for him. But I don't think we actually got to know each other until us being together was something we were working towards, instead of the other way around."

More empty staring. Then, "I don't get it."

Zena sighed. "It's just why we're starting over. I'm trying not to get too attached."

"Why?"

"Well, because… the way things were, how would that sustain itself once we were actually out of a crisis? We only knew how to be together when people were trying to keep us apart…"

"Doesn't that mean you'll jus' be t'gether easier when that's done?"

"Gahi, it's… not that simple."

"Well, yer doin' a bad job explainin' it. Sounds ter me like maybe yer back t'gether because y'like each other and that's it. I don't get it. Yer try'na be nice ter each other by lettin' each other go, but y'both wanna go back t'gether."

"Yes, Gahi, that's the point. I think… I think I was obsessed. I don't want that."

Gahi looked at Zena, then at Owen, and then back at Zena. He just shrugged. "He say the same thing?"

"What? I haven't told him this!"

"Why not?"

"Because—well. He has a lot on his mind."

"Tch. You just told me communication is important. Lookit you now."

Zena clenched her jaw, unsure how to counter that. Maybe it couldn't be countered. She looked down at Owen, always glowing dimly from his gentle, warm flame. It didn't burn anymore; his dreams were peaceful, for once.

"I suppose I did say that," Zena said.

"Alright. My turn, then, eh? What're YOU scared of?" Gahi wore a smug look on his face like he'd beaten her at a game of marbles.

Zena resisted the urge to ice him and said, "Nothing I can't get past."

The smug smirk appeared to soften. "Yeah? Well, good. Figure Owen would want someone real strong."

"Hm." Zena agreed with the statement, but not the follow-up. She did wonder if she was strong enough for him. The way he fought was frightening, but even he was frightened of that. But how he cared for others, was she able to emulate that same compassion? Had she been in his position… there was simply no way that she could be so forgiving. To Eon, to Diyem of all people, where did it end? Where was his limit?

"Oi," Gahi said. "Yeh got that distant look in yer eye."

"Ah. It's nothing." Zena tried to break the psychic connection, turning her head away. Gahi seemed to notice and frowned. She was sure he'd try to prod more, but he didn't. His head turned, he curled up, and that was the end of it.

A small part of her had hoped he would continue. Now she was alone with her thoughts, glancing down—only to realize that Owen was staring right at her. She nearly seized up at the concern in those bright eyes. He reached up to her gently, questioning her, but not forcing an explanation.

Zena forced a little smile and shook her head. It was far, far too late into their sleep. She lowered her head, and Owen rested against her cheek.

"Tomorrow," she promised quietly.

"Okay." He gently stroked her forehead. She wasn't sure when, but at some point, she'd managed to fall asleep.

Owen prompted Gahi and the others about what he'd learned from the other him in Cipher City. They spoke in a small common area that all of their rooms had connected to, over a simple breakfast that Demitri gladly cooked up. The ingredients were a little fresher here, though there was still that bitter Voidlands aftertaste everything had.

He stated most of the news quickly, only going over the very basics, and tried not to make it sound too grave. Unfortunately, Team Alloy was far too perceptive.

"So we're on a timer," Gahi stated flatly. "Either we get Other Owen outta there, er they turn'm inter a Reset soldier like befer, and fer all we know, that'll carry over ter you if they blast yeh with the same energy."

Zena was hiding her terror with an angry face at the ground. Owen knew that would happen, but he had to let them know. "It'll be okay," Owen assured them. "He has a plan, too. In fact, er—well, I shouldn't give the details about it yet, in case, you know, some people with Alexander might be listening in here, somehow."

"Here? All the way in West Null?" Gahi pressed.

"You never know," Mispy stated. "Alright…"

The door from the main entrance into the common room slid open. "Hey!" Jerry called, waving at them. "Waypoint is set up."

"That was fast," Owen commented.

"Palkia's instructions were, uh, surprisingly easy to follow," Jerry said.

"…Somehow, out of everything," Zena said, "that surprises me the most."

Owen had to agree. "Well, lucky us," he said. "That means we can probably get back soon. But, that just leaves one question… Who will be coming?"

"Between the fairies and stuff?" Jerry said. "They're all coming."

"A-all?" Owen said. "Won't that leave West Null defenseless? They're all of the Legends…"

Jerry only shrugged. "That was their decision. Sounds like they've got contingencies."

"If they say so…"

Maybe they had time to prepare for things like this. They could only hope. At least the Void Titans weren't as active anymore, if at all, in the area.

"So, we headin' back?" Jerry asked impatiently. "Nothing's stopping me from heading back, actually. So I'm gonna go do that. You guys do whatever."

It was nostalgic to think about heading 'back' someplace being only one Waypoint away. How long had it been since they'd been able to enjoy anything like that?

"Um."

But a single, deep voice got their attention, and Owen turned to face Zena. "Oh." He nodded. "Guys, can Zena and I stay back? You all can go ahead. We'll catch up."

Zena and Gahi had exchanged a look for some reason, but for once, the Flygon was the first to agree, leaving silently.

Jerry looked vaguely annoyed for yet another reason and said, "Whatever."

"Good luck," Mispy mumbled, sliding out.

Owen tilted his head. But soon, as they all shuffled out and the door closed, they were left alone.

It seemed a lot different when it only had two people. The large table seemed excessive; all the facilities were far too much for just two people to work with. And with it all cleaned, there was a distinct sense that they were no longer welcome there, overstaying after their tenancy had expired.

Still, in an attempt to make it feel a little roomier, Owen approached one of the seats and hopped on. Zena slithered to another and coiled around it.

"Is this about last night?" Owen asked. "That wasn't a dream?"

"It wasn't." Zena sighed. "I was speaking to Gahi telepathically."

"Oh? Wow, he's really getting better with that Psychic Orb. I mean, the Teleport stuff was a big tipoff to that, but—er, sorry. About what?"

Zena was smiling a little when he rambled, but it faded when she talked again. "I don't really remember the specifics. Just the feeling. Of… of…"

Owen leaned forward, trying his best not to use his Perceive. It was rude. He knew it would make people uncomfortable, able to so thoroughly read everything that they felt, even if it wasn't actually their minds…

"I-in all honesty, I think you'd know my feelings better," she admitted.

"Huh?"

"Your, er, your Perceive. What do you feel right now?"

"I'm trying not to read into it," he said openly. "It's, I mean, I think it spooks people."

"Oh. Does… Oh, I think I see why that'd be true…"

"…I… just sense that you're tense. And your chest and heart seems, what's the word, uh, tighter. And I think I know your body type better now, so it means you're… conflicted?"

"Conflicted." Zena relaxed a little. "Yes. That's the word."

"What about?"

She paused again. Her throat was tense, now. Wanting to say something, yet for one reason or another couldn't find it in her.

"This is silly of me," Zena finally said, exhaling. "We have this world, we have Kilo, so many things to save, and I'm focused on this."

"Well, it's going to distract you if you don't get it out of the way," Owen replied patiently, having a good idea where this was going. "Come on. You can just say it."

"R… right. You probably already know, don't you?" Zena smiled sadly. "I guess it would be silly of me to try to hide things like this."

"I don't really know about that," Owen said. "I'm old, but a lot of that time was spent being reborn and scattered… It's not totally the same, you know?"

"Maybe so…" Zena finally exhaled. "All right. I'll just say it." She closed her eyes, like she didn't want to look at him when she said it, but something must have convinced her to stare directly at him when she spoke next. "If you are doing anything just for the sake of my feelings… Please, set them aside. The world is more important. If… partnering with Mhynt is better, or leaving me behind to work alongside Gahi is needed, or anything where I… do not fit in. Please. You must do so without…" She gestured to herself.

…That actually wasn't what he had been expecting, so he wound up staring dumbly at her for a while to reorient himself.

"Er." Zena glanced away. "I think I made it sound too dramatic…"

"No, I—wasn't expecting it, that's all."

"What? What were you expecting?" Zena coiled a little tighter, puzzling over it with a furrowed brow.

"I thought you were just gonna ask if I still had feelings for Mhynt or something," Owen said. "I said he—uh, other me—was a little different, and he was with Mhynt, and, well, I guess that's the conclusion I thought you'd make. I mean, I did for a little while, too, before he told me that wasn't what was happening."

"What? He did? But… weren't you two…"

"We were," Owen agreed. "We had a daughter, a family, yeah. But… that was a thousand years ago. I don't even know how many resets it was for me, but I changed since then. And… so did she."

"Oh." Zena sank a little.

"What's got you sad?" Owen asked. "I figure that would make you happy."

"No, I…" Zena tilted her head. "I don't know. It's… hard to put to words. But that idea, that… that change. How people can change so much that even a happy family you once had can turn to something less. It must be awkward, too, if you're trying to save Mhynt at the same time."

"A little," Owen admitted. "That's how he described it. There's that feeling, sure, but there's a bigger feeling that it's not the same. My Perceive is all about seeing through illusions, right? And looking instead at exactly what things are. May not be able to Perceive relationships that well"—At this, Zena seemed to titter a little, and Owen felt a little nostalgic—"but I can tell that it's just while we're captive. I don't think I can… or should… try to rekindle things with Mhynt."

Zena still looked conflicted. She was coiling around something invisible, and Owen had a decent idea what that meant.

"And it's not because of you," Owen assured. She loosened some. He got it right. "But… you wouldn't be against her and I being friends, right?"

"N-no, I wouldn't," Zena agreed, though she was tense again. Pushing past something. And perhaps she realized this, too, and shrank guiltily. "Really. You have every right…"

"Thanks," Owen said. "I get it, though. It's complicated. I mean, when has anything not been?" Owen rubbed his cheek, sighing.

"It's all so overwhelming," Zena admitted. "I don't know how you deal with it. I only have my one life. You…"

"And that's what I need the most right now," Owen said, a little firmer. "Please. You can ground things for me, right?" Because right now, Zena needed a sense of purpose. He was starting to piece together exactly what seemed to be bothering her, and it really had nothing to do with Owen at all, did it?

"Ground things," Zena echoed. "You mean…"

"Zena, you're… normal. Yes, you're a Guardian, and you lived for a while, but most of that time was spent dormant. Before, you were friends with Emily, sure, but before that you were… just raised as a normal Feebas, and then a Milotic. Xerneas knows your spirit is whole. There's no Legend waiting to unite with you. You don't have some crazy past about some countless lives you lived before. You're… a Milotic, who lived in Kilo, and happened to become a Guardian when Emily gave hers up.

"I need that right now. I need someone… normal, who can handle all of this anyway, and remind me that… I need to remember what normal is like when going through all this. That I shouldn't be trying to do all of this divine stuff when I'm not even close to ready for it. I just have to, but… when it's over, I can't lose sight of what I'm really fighting for. Especially when, as Wishkeeper, I…"

"Remember what normal is like," she once again echoed. "Because… that's who you're trying to save?"

"Exactly. If I lose touch of that… I don't know how that'll go for me if this is over, if we win, if we save everyone. Because—what then, right?"

"Right." Zena was quiet, eyes darting here and there, but she was thinking it over. "Right. I think I understand what you mean."

"Say it to me," Owen asked.

"Because I'm actually normal, without anything bogging me down except Guardianship, I'm someone closer to normal that can remind you of… what you're really fighting for. So you don't lose touch with what it means to live in Kilo." Zena smiled, and finally she seemed to relax. "You never did like the gods. It must be frightening to be so close to being like one."

He exhaled, nodding. "Yeah. That's exactly it, huh?" He played with his tail, admiring the ember. "…So, don't worry, Zena. I've thought about it. Other me thought about it, too. He's worried about you, he asked how you were doing, all that. And Gahi, er… don't worry about him. He's sorting out his feelings, but I think we know where that's going."

They both nodded at each other at that.

"He has strange tastes," Zena commented.

"His taste used to be me," Owen pointed out with a scaly brow quirking.

Zena leaned forward to nuzzle him. "I stand by it."

"You can't even stand." Owen leaned into it. "Should we catch up with the others?"

The Milotic wrapped her ribbons around him, setting him on her back. "Remind me, was the plan to meet with everyone in the South Null Town Hall?"

"Yeah. I think Xerneas wanted to get us for something."

"Xerneas. He won't be happy if we take any longer. He'll probably assume the worst in how we're wasting time." Zena rolled her eyes as she advanced toward the door. "Really. I barely know him, and I can tell none of the gods could stand his attitude."

"…What'd be the worst?" Owen asked.

"Something I considered every so often," Zena replied. "I'm sure your Perceive would tell you the answer."

Owen tilted his head and assumed that was permission.

"…O-oh." His flame flashed blue.

Zena giggled and continued along. "It's only normal, after all."

Most had gathered in front of the Radiant Tree of Life. Dialga, Palkia, those from West Null Village, and Xerneas and Yveltal. The god of death had taken on a new, icy form, and despite her intense stare, there was a newfound kindness in her eyes that surprised Owen. Some were not yet present; Trina, Alex, and several others were still handling other tasks in Null Village, and Xerneas apparently only had the energy to work with some of the team, not all of them. He refused to elaborate on exactly what that was all about, though.

"Very good, you're all finally here," Xerneas grumbled. "Hold still. This will only hurt for a few hours."

"H-hang on!" Demitri raised his hands up. Mesprit did so at the same time. "What exactly are you about to—"

"You first, then."

Mesprit tried to shield Demitri, who tried to shield Mesprit, and they both wound up getting hit by a radiant blast of energy from Xerneas' rainbow-colored horns. The screams were drowned out by the loud, deep buzzing of the attack shaking the ground, but when it finally subsided, Mesprit and Demitri crumpled on the ground unchanged, Xerneas puffed and looked at the rest.

"Next," he commanded.

"What did you do?" Owen asked.

"Good, keep volunteering."

Owen was tempted to cross his arms, but he spotted Demitri returning to consciousness. It was at least not lethal. Despite being annoyed, Dialga and the others didn't seem alarmed, either. He endured.

Searing hot pain rippled across his scales and then plunged straight into his heart and bones. It was like everything all at once was being jabbed with needles, and yet for some reason none of it truly hurt. The next thing Owen knew, he was on his back, staring at the sky. Demitri was next to him with Mesprit resting in his lap, both of them still looking out of it.

"Huh?" Owen mumbled. "I was standing…"

"Don't move too much, Owen," Zena said, rubbing his shoulders.

He leaned against the ribbons. "What happened?"

"Xerneas is reviving everyone," Zena explained, and Owen tiredly turned his head to see if Zena looked similarly tired. And, indeed, she did, though she still had the strength to hold him.

"Revive," Owen repeated. "Because… Right. He's the embodiment of life itself…"

"It doesn't seem to restore memories very easily," Zena explained, "but it at least allows us to leave the Voidlands without evaporating. He said that some of us, those who already had 'light,' would be able to do it naturally… but he didn't want to take any chances."

"I remember being on the surface. It was a little… hot, but I don't remember evaporating the same way," Owen agreed. "Maybe if I concentrated, I'd do better… but Demitri, Mispy, Gahi? They had more trouble."

"Nah," Gahi murmured. "I remember that." He was on Demitri's other side, adjusting his wings. "Felt like Demitri 'n Mispy had it th' worst."

Owen nodded absently, but he could only think about what that meant for Remi. Spice. She was from the Voidlands, but was able to sustain herself. That could only mean… she had light within her, too. A Void Shadow with light…

Owen jolted upwards, only to get too dizzy to stay standing. He collapsed against Zena and slurred, "Where's Anam?"

"Not here. Busy with Giratina 'n his mom."

"Same thing twice," Mispy groaned.

"I don't envy that one," Demitri said with a little titter. "She was… scary. I can't believe Anam's related to her. He's nothing like her."

"Where's James, anyway?" Owen asked. "Is he still in Anam?"

"Think so. Maybe he's summoned fer their outing."

"Ahh, good. You're talkative." Dialga greeted all of them from one of the buildings. Demitri and the others couldn't look at him directly, but they all hummed a greeting, leaving the Timekeeper to stare awkwardly. "Er, yes. Well… I've also been revived while you were unconscious, of course. And, ah, that did… happen to restore one of my other little features for the time being as well. If it would please you…"

He had their attention. Without true confirmation, Dialga only nodded awkwardly again and said, "Right. Well…"

The god's body brightened to a blinding white and shrank down, down, down. In a pulse of wind and light, his shape changed from four legs to two, revealing a painfully familiar, lithe frame.

Lucario cleared his throat and smiled at them. Demitri tried to stand to see better, or at least pay some form of respect, but Owen's heart could only sink deeper. It was his body, but all the subtleties of his muscles and body language were… off. Distant.

It wasn't really Rhys anymore. Yet, as far as Owen could tell, he was the only one who knew. He wanted to say it right then, and yet, hearing Demitri sob with relief, hearing Gahi whisper 'Pops' under his breath… he couldn't. No amount of will would let him point it out. Not yet.

"Well," Lucario said, clapping his paws together, "shall we go home?"

Gahi disappeared and reappeared in front of him, collapsing a second later from strain.

"Ah—!" But Lucario caught him, holding him gingerly. Gahi refused to let go, squeezing him tight, and even Lucario was stunned by how open Gahi was about it.

"Missed you," Gahi murmured, shaking. "Thought y'were…"

And finally, Lucario's and Owen's eyes met. Owen wasn't sure what expression he was giving, but it was apparently horrible enough for Lucario's to shift to one of a sad, warm apology.