…

…this was different.

This didn't feel like the other memories I'd seen. But at the same time… I wasn't sure what I was looking at or what was supposed to be happening. It was all a blurry haze of dreamscape. Was I trying to remember what came after…?

I blinked, and the scene had suddenly changed. My breath hitched in my throat.

This wasn't what I'd seen in my memories. My home had been small, ramshackle, lit by lanterns. This was clean, spacious, comfortable; like nothing had ever happened that made the opposite the norm. The people around me were clean, unbattered, happy…

"You've got everything, right? Your phone, your Pokéballs?" my father asked. At least, I believed he was.

"Yes, dad, yes, we've been over this," I rolled my eyes with a little smile.

"Just making sure. Bianca forgot half her things when we started our journey, I had to lend her mine."

"I know, dad."

"Alright, alright. You and Wilsa be careful out there, and if you see anything suspicious? Call me."

"We will. Promise."

"Alright. Your mother and I love you, Sam, don't forget that."

"Yeah. Love you too. I'll call when we get to Accumula," I nodded, going in for a quick hug before I headed out the door. Waiting just outside was my best friend, already putting the first of our journey's logs in her phone.

"Starlog, September 21, 2057. Today's the day. We're setting out to fight Unova, and we will begin with me catching big dorky's starter for him," she said dramatically into the mic.

"Oh, shut up," I elbowed her as we started towards Nuvema's city limits.

Nuvema? Mobile phones? Pokeballs? Starters? What…? This wasn't right. A moment of lucidity hit me as I blinked, looking around confusedly.

"What… what happened? I thought the Ruin ended the world, and…?" I managed out. Wilsa just looked at me confusedly.

"Ruin? Sam, cmon, the world hasn't ended yet, it's not allowed to till we've finished the circuit! That's the law!" she grinned as we paused at the town limits. "We're gonna step out at the same time like your dad did, on three! One, two…"

…was this…? This was what I had missed out on? What things could have been like?

I stared off distantly before taking a breath and stepping out onto the route…

"Beck?"

I groaned as I blinked awake, staring at nothing as I slowly recalled where I was. I was lying on a bunk in the local Guild's barracks. We were still in Pillaferry. It had only been fantasy.

"W-we're about to head out, whenever you're ready," Rye said, squatting down over me.

"Y-yeah. Akay," I muttered. As Rye turned to start gathering his things, I stayed there, quietly going over the dream I had had.

…there was no way to know that was what it'd be like. My brain couldn't possibly actually know that. But still…

I frowned to myself before standing to get ready for the day.

It wasn't long before I was out on the street with my traveling partners, metaphorical weight still pressing on my shoulders. Every sound stood out to me— the creaking of the pier street beneath my feet, the splashing of breaching Water-types to the sides, the chatter of the landborne populace around me, the street band's horns in the center of the square, the chiming of temple bells in the distance, the faint groans and flapping sails of ships on the sea…

Had Bert just said something about ingenuity? Something about the designers of the city? I couldn't be sure. All of it just melded together in my head. How couldn't it? That pit in my stomach was deeper than ever, and every yawn from it sucked up everything else in me. Rye's worried looks weren't helping, either— I hadn't talked to him much the last day, but for good reason, I felt. I knew that no one would understand if I went to them for help, they'd probably just get upset for some condescending— Wait, what? No, I just… didn't want to drag them into that pit with me… What…?

"Th-this is supposed to be a guildhall?" Rye's snout scrunched up from the smell as we entered the building we'd been pointed to. The Sharpedo manning the guild proper here had been quite helpful, but he appeared to have just pointed us to the local saloon. The stench of alcohol hung in the air as lively chatter rang about, though the board of outlaws taking up the whole left wall suggested this place wasn't just for drinks. Whatever the case, Bert cleared his throat as we approached the bar.

"Gimme a moment, this isn't my first joint," he said, climbing up onto a barstool and hailing the Espeon behind the bar in some foreign language. What was that, Paldean? No, the accent sounded Orrean, that'd make sense. Bert and the bartender spoke back and forth for a moment before the Wartortle turned around. "The Head Agent's just up there, he's willing to speak with us."

"H-head agent?" Rye asked.

"This is the Bounty Hunters Corp, kid. The Guild's got the knowhow of the rivers and sea routes, but if we wanna find a Psychic good enough to get us back, then this is our best bet," Bert said.

"Th-these don't look like bounty hunters," Rye glanced back at the trio of unassuming Pikachus heading out the door with a wanted poster in hand.

"They aren't all big gruff assholes? Yeah, of course. You're a bounty hunter when you think about it. Just not in name," Bert said matter-of-factly as the Espeon let us behind the bar, pointing us up the stairs.

"Oh," Rye coughed, remaining quiet as we followed Bert up.

The door creaked as we walked into the main office of the establishment, taking a good look around. Grimy glass windows lined the walls to our left and right, cozy furnishings making way to the spacious desk at the end of the room. Sitting in front of a balcony taking up the back wall was… that couldn't be right?

The Xatu at the desk glanced up. "Good morning," he said in a sickeningly familiar neutral tone. I admittedly screamed out loud and scrambled back, my mind hurriedly rushing to figure out what was happening.

'How on God's earth did… Nono, no. No, they'd have caught him if this was that Xatu. They aren't dumb. He's not that Xatu. You're fine. …And he's shiny. That Xatu doesn't have orange feathers. Idiot.'

"Ahem. S-sorry, we, um…" Rye coughed.

"I am aware," the Xatu sighed, pushing aside a paper. "I am Head Agent Xatu. Gold River Bounty Corps. You are the ones from Gray Proper?"

"Yes, sir," Bert nodded as I recomposed myself. "We hit a bit of a bust here, and we need quick passage back. Ideally a teleport."

The Xatu sighed as he looked away from us to return to his work. "The Corps are not a charity like your Guilds. We do not offer free passage, even for our brothers in arms."

"B-but sir, it's important—" Rye started.

"Child," the Xatu sighed commandingly.

"I-if we don't get back quick, th-then that's all the more chance for Xatu to get what he wants, a-and he's gonna…" the Treecko trailed off. With that, the bird blinked and looked up, his brow furrowing.

"...I know you," he noted, floating a file from his drawers. "Surveyment and Public Service Team Reach, Arcanine's Guild of Impetus Town and the Edelwood Valley?"

"...y-yes," Rye coughed. The Xatu stared at the file just a moment longer before sighing and setting it down.

"I see. Where will you be going, then?" he asked.

"Scuse me?" Bert raised an eyebrow. "What was all that about charity, then?"

"I am sorry, is that where you will be going?" the shiny snapped back.

"No. Er, Impetus if possible," Bert pursed his lips, evidently choosing to not look the gift Mudsbray in the mouth.

"Good. I am not as powerful a teleport as others of these Corps, I will have to pause a day in Gray Orient," Xatu nodded.

"Y-you?" Rye blinked. "Why not… o-one of those psychics? And like Mr. Bert was asking, y-you, um, changed your mind quick. N-no offense."

"They are on business. And it is in my best interest for personal matters," the bird looked over at us, a shiver still running down my spine at his gaze. Personal—? …Oh. Oh, that was why.

"...Ah. I-I'm sorry," Rye squeaked. "And, um, thank you, Mr…?"

"Xatu will suffice," the bird said, gesturing to the map on his wall. "I cannot take you to Impetus Town; I have never been. Westgrove-on-Sea or Vale Keep will have to suffice. And I cannot make the entire trip in one day, I can take you as far as Seekers' Plateau, or the eastern foothills of the Twists should I push it. I will be notifying my First Officer that I will be away; find where you are willing to stay the night."

"Of course," Bert nodded. Xatu nodded and teleported away with a pop of wind as the three of us gathered around the map.

"H-he can't take us into the Twists? There's… b-barely anyone out there…" Rye frowned.

"There's plenty of mons out there," Bert crossed his arms.

"Sorry," Rye said. "Just. I'm from the Twists, the eastern hills have a, um… r-reputation, and I don't know anywhere we'd really be welcome…"

I clicked my tongue, skimming over the map with Rye as I tried to find any larger cities; maybe I'd heard of some hidden gem out there in passing. My search for any metropolises suddenly stopped, though, as my eyes fell on one mark in particular. I hesitated a bit before putting a claw on that spot.

"...wh-what?" Rye asked. I didn't answer, though I clearly didn't need to, as Rye's face lit up in understanding as I slowly held up Rocky Mavy.

Family near Granite Abode, he'd said…

The wind died down as our feet touched solid ground once again. I staggered in place, my stomach churning— apparently it wasn't just Alakazam back home, teleportation just really was that rough.

"You kids good?" Bert knelt down.

"F-fine," Rye groaned as he leaned against me for support.

"Xatu, how bout you?" he turned to our ride. The bird was visibly exhausted, putting a wing against a nearby pole. I wasn't sure why my mind immediately went to how jacked he was under those wings— relatively speaking for a psychic, of course.

"Just take us to the contact, please," Xatu… er, Mr. Xatu hissed under his breath.

"Fine by me," Bert turned towards me. "You know where this place is exactly, kid?"

"Nah. Jasht away," I shook my head as I looked around. The road we stood on led straight towards a towering cliff face and snaked on into tunnels going inside— the town was inside the plateau, I could only assume. That in mind, I pointed the opposite way and started waddling.

Like most other towns I'd seen, the town itself was surrounded by acres upon acres of farmland, corn and grain growing healthy in the summer heat. In a day and age without the luxuries of refrigeration, I supposed this much was necessary. Between the beginning of the fields and the undisturbed forest bordering the town, though, sat a spacious fenced property, where a trio of Pokémon were busy at work on the fence. Glancing back to the others, I led the way towards the three mons.

Among the two Bidoofs and the Bibarel, the larger Bidoof gnawing posts into shape seemed to notice us first, giving a sniff as we approached. "Pa, we got travelers," he said. Her father didn't look up, just continuing to hammer away. "...PA," she repeated louder.

"Hm?" The Bibarel finally glanced up to see us. "Oh, ah. Howdy there, sorry bout that! Don't mind us, just fixin' up the property. Zygarde help us, an Excadrill ran into the fence down there, heh."

"Oh, damn. Anyone hurt?" Bert asked.

"Sorry?" The Bibarel cocked his head, sticking his ear up.

"Naw, real pain, though," the Bidoof sighed. "Happens once or twice a year, nothin' new."

"You are aware that daffodils repel moles, correct?" Mr. Xatu asked.

"What repels—" the Bibarel started.

"Daffodils, Pa," his daughter sighed.

"Ahh, gotcha, gotcha. We'll keep that in mind, thank you," the elder beaver rumbled, leaning over the fence. "Well, what can we do for y'all?"

"We, um, need a p-place to stay the night. Our friend said he had family around here?" Rye asked.

"Who's your friend?" Bibarel asked.

"Well…" Rye started, pausing as I held up Mavy's effigy. It was apparently enough to get the message across, as the Bibarel rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Wisteria's kid?" the Bibarel blinked. "Well, small world, she's Harper and Radu's auntie here! We can lend some beds for the night, always got some guest beds vacant! Figure you can pay us back with some quick chores; nothing too bad, you'll be back on the road real fast."

"Dad," the Bidoof groaned. Her smaller brother glanced up at us quietly, shrinking away as Bibarel stood up.

"Be nice, Harper," he chided. "Radu, why don't you head inside and tell your mother to get some extra dishes ready?" The smaller Bidoof gave a little nod and quietly scurried towards the farmhouse, his tail tucked between his hinds. His… black, fluffy tail.

"Is that a Zorua?" Bert squinted.

"He is," Bibarel sniffed. "What bout it?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just. Yknow," Bert muttered.

"No, we don't know. There something wrong with my little brother?" Harper spat.

"No, no, of course not. Bad experiences, that's all," Bert's head shrank a bit into his shell.

Her face reddening, Harper opened her mouth to retort, though Bibarel put a paw on her shoulder to stop her. "Yeah, lotta mons have those. Few bad apples don't mean he ain't worth it. He's a little gem when you git to know him," he sighed. "Come on in, feathers there looks tired."

"I would appreciate that you never call me that again," Mr. Xatu frowned as Bibarel opened the fence gate for us.

As we started for the farmhouse, I couldn't help but stare after the smaller Bidoof, his illusion wavering as he slipped inside. Don't get me wrong, I respected Bert as much as anyone could, but his words about the kid felt all too familiar. It wasn't fair; he couldn't help his nature, could he? It was nice he had a presumably adoptive family to support him, but still… I'd have to talk with him later. Maybe not about my situation or anything of the sort, just a chance to sit down with a kindred spirit for a change. It'd be good distraction, at least— I figured that much as I waddled inside.

"—and may our guests here today be favored in the circle. Bless them with good fortune as they leave us here today. We thank you for this nourishment, great Zygarde. Glory be."

I gave a little nod along with the others as they started on their food. The table was set modestly, simple dishes of berry stew and milk that I could only assume were made on site set out in front of us. Bert had already started wolfing his down while Rye tried his best to keep up, occasionally glancing between Mr. Xatu's empty seat and the family. Harper did her best to not look us in the eye while her younger brother sat next to his mother, barely touching his food. Radu had dropped his illusion entirely by now, revealing the little Zorua underneath. The fox's ears twitched with every glance up at us.

"So what brings you round these parts?" the Greedent at the head of the table asked. "Can't imagine it's to see the homestead."

"Chasing a lead, th-that's all," Rye said. "Guild thing."

"Guild business? Must be important if you're all the way out there," Greedent nodded. "S'it anything to do with recent events?"

"Define recent events," Bert swallowed.

"Well, the Guild war against them terrorists, we done heard of that down the vine. The merchants on this route just yesterday came by sayin' they was attacked, and Wisteria wrote to us freakin' out 'bout Maverick. Is he okay?" Bibarel asked, leaning over.

"H-he's recovering. It was… y-yeah," Rye coughed.

"That's good to hear," Greedent smiled, ignoring a mutter from her daughter. "And with all the gossip from town bout that Society expedition out in the wildlands… y'all know anything about that?"

Rye and I briefly glanced to each other. "N-no," the Treecko lied.

"Weird, woulda thought that'd be news. Only heard tidbits, but 'ppurently they found some legend-type caves up north past the plateau, sent a bunch from Proper up there to look into it, and the whole expedition fell apart after they got jumped. No one knows what they found in there," Greedent recounted.

"Mom, don't say it like that, you'll freak them out," Harper murmured. Radu opened his mouth to give his input, but apparently decided against it.

"And with where they keep finding that bunch doin' their thing? Ports, storehouses, merchants, personal collections?" Greedent said. "Harper and Radu here think they was lookin' fer something in those caves. And they're still looking."

"Mom," Harper groaned. I nodded along— they weren't far off. Smart kids, they were.

"That's… um, r-really interesting," Rye nodded.

"Sure a word for it," Bert pursed his lips.

"But, yknow," Greedent laid back on her tail like a big pillow. "We prefer not to think 'bout it too hard. We can't do nothing to change it, so no point in stressin'. Better for the soul."

"Wish we could do that. But maybe eventually," Bert replied.

"I'm sure of it. Whatever Zygarde thinks is best for all things," Bibarel smiled. I glanced away at that.

The dinner went by without much note past that, with only the occasional question on Mavy being raised. As Rye and Bert went upstairs to settle in, I found myself wandering into the kitchen, taking a glance around. Standing over a tub of soapy water was Harper and Radu, the Bidoof and Zorua busy washing dishes and sharing a laugh.

"What'd she tell you next, Radu?" Harper grinned.

"Um, um, she said…" the Zorua tapped his paw before a puff of gray smoke appeared around him, quickly clearing to reveal a Minccino. "You can't clean dishes, w-with your tail, your fur's too dark, everyone'll see!"

"And what'd you tell her?" the Bidoof asked.

"Um… g-get black dishes," the illusory Minccino smiled nervously.

"That's my brother," Harper smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"I, um, had r-really good help," Radu blushed a bit, only by that point looking up. His smile and illusion quickly fizzled out as the little Zorua nervously returned to washing dishes, his sister turning to cross her arms at me.

"Hey. Er, Hah-peh, yeah?" I asked. "And Rahduh?"

"Yeah. That's us," the beaver said. My ear twitched as I tried to think of something to break the ice.

"...can halp?" I eventually asked, pointing to the dishes.

"Knock yerself out, I reckon," Harper shrugged. I gave an awkward little nod before picking up a dishcloth to start scrubbing next to Radu, the little Zorua clearly doing his best to not shoot me nervous looks.

"...was good eh… elluhsha," I finally brought up.

"...i-illusion? Um… o-okay," Radu muttered.

"Rehlly. Nathin teh be a… asha- ashamd af," I managed out, briefly cursing my stupid feral tongue once again.

"No one means that when they say it," Radu said quietly.

"Hey, I, uh… reckon he knows wut he's talkin' bout," Harper whispered, having apparently caught on to my feral lisp.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Is, er. Not easy, but…nathing wrong with yeh."

"Everyone says there is," the Zorua hung his head.

"Fack— ahem, er, sh-shcrah them. Is why yeh show em," I said.

"Th-they're right, though. I-I just… I can't change that I'm a Zorua. N-not really. And I can't talk to anyone well. I-I'll always just be different," Radu frowned.

"Eh. Jasht makes yeh int… ahem, intweshting," I shrugged. The Zorua seemed to consider this a moment before giving a little nod, his tail wagging a bit. It was fleeting, but it was there. Harper watched us closely as we resumed scrubbing, her arms still crossed but her gait less on edge.

"...he appreciates it. He don't really show it right away, but he really does," she said softly. "Thanks."

"Yeh," I gave a little smile back at her.

"I just got one question," she sniffed. "How in distortion'd you get Mavy of all mons as a friend?"

My ear twitched. "Not thaht bad."

"Oh, he is. Like this one time when he and Uncle Coop was visiting, his dumb ass went out to the cowshed 'n somehow got his whole head stuck up one of the buckets. Was still stuck on there when he left," the Bidoof groaned.

"...yeah, thah's Mavy," I chuckled.

"You ain't even heard the half of it," she started as she grabbed a washcloth to join us.

This again.

What was this? I knew for sure it wasn't a memory. I couldn't be looking into some parallel universe; Palkia didn't seem the type to show me these sorts of things, the apathetic bastard. My brain couldn't just… dream it up, could it?

Whatever the case, things came into focus around me. I recognized this place— it was the old Gym in Striaton, wasn't it? I'd only peered through the windows a couple times as far as I could remember, it'd been looted clean long before I was born. That… wasn't what I saw here. The restaurant was clean and immaculate, gourmet food still steaming on the tables. Around me, the battlefield was still intact, the masonry sharp and clean as I faced down the gym leader. What had his name been? I'd never remembered, I always mixed the three up. I could make out Wilsa cheering me on from the sidelines as my Scraggy starter held up her pants defensively, staring down the Pansage across from us. It was going to be a good fight, it looked like.

Only everything around me was frozen. I could move fine, but everything else just hung there. Fragrant steam hung frozen in the air over dishes, my Scraggy's foot hung ready for a little stomp that would never come, and Wilsa's mouth was frozen mid-whoop, a cheer permanently frozen in her throat.

"...hello?" I sputtered out. This… wasn't right. Where was I? I was… Beck. This was a dream. Right?

Boom. The world around me jolted as if something had slammed hard into the building. I was thrown off my feet, landing hard on my shoulder as I looked around for the source.

Boom. Cracks erupted from the point of impact, something shining from them. The closest word I had to it was light, but…

Boom. The room around me cracked like porcelain; the walls, the ceiling, the tables, even the people. I instinctively grabbed for my Scraggy, though my hands just passed straight through her as she crumbled apart. "Wh-what is this?" I yelled.

Boom, boom. I could make out voices through the cracks— no, voices wasn't right. Influences? Something competing. I scrambled back as the room around me fell apart.

Boom. I curled up into a ball, gritting my teeth as the voices grew unbearably loud in my head…

And then it was quiet.

My eyes fluttering open, I sat up only to be met with the gaze of Mr. Xatu down at me.

"...wh-what the fack was—" I began accusingly.

"Are you aware that there has been a dream eater following you since last night?" Mr. Xatu asked matter-of-factly. I stared at him incredulously.

"...what?" I demanded, looking around just to make sure this was real. Rye and Bert had apparently been awoken by the commotion, staring at me with concern.

"A… dream eater, what? Why in distortion would—?" Bert blinked.

"Beck, what's happening?" Rye asked.

"Nathing," I said.

"Beck. I'm your friend, I'm here to talk, i-if there's something going on—" the Treecko frowned.

"I'm fine, dammit! Fack's sake, jasht…" I snapped. Rye flinched hard, taking in a breath. "...s-sahry, I'm sahry…"

I could only watch as Rye shrank underneath his covers, shuddering underneath. Bert pursed his lips before getting up and tromping over.

"...we're talking about this tomorrow, and you are going to apologize proper to Rye there," the Wartortle said in a tone I'd never heard from him. "I love ya, but I draw the line somewhere. I like to think I'm a patient mon. You best not take that for me tolerating this kinda Tauroshit. Understood?"

"Y-yessir," I squeaked. Bert glowered at me a moment before taking a breath and returning to his bed. I just stared after the two for a moment before turning a death glare up to Mr. Xatu and rolling over to sleep, doing my best to hide a series of sobs from the bird.

As I heard the Xatu turn to slowly walk back to his room, I couldn't help but note something in my head. A phrase just barely hanging on to my short-term memory, the last hazy detail I'd made out from the chaos of the dream. It wasn't Mr. Xatu's voice; it was whatever he had chased off.

"Tanner's Road back in Impetus, fourth building to the left from town square. The guys there won't ask anything of you. They're good conversation if you need it."

…

May and Pike were starting to get concerned, Arden knew that much. Even Zigzagoon was starting to ask if he was okay. He felt he was only a couple of days from an intervention. But he was close. He could feel it.

The Quilava must have gone through half the records this damned Guild had to offer. His eyes were bloodshot— he'd taken to coming in at night, too. Who would stop him? The sooner he found what he was looking for, the better.

Stacks on stacks of documents surrounded him; he'd given up taking the time to put them back as he read them. They all bled together, read the same. He'd never be able to look at Cinccino's handwriting again without wanting to pluck his eyeballs out.

But it would be worth it. He needed to do this. He owed it to the world. It was his responsibility.

Now. The thirteenth file under Special Affairs. The nine hundred sixty-eighth overall. What fun. More disappointment, he was sure of…?

"...oh. Oh! Ooh!" he hooted ecstatically, vents lighting up as he cackled and shook his fists at the heavens. The firelight showed it without a trace of a doubt. The exploratory expedition to the Caverns of Being. 10th-11th of Zygarde's Moon 1540. For the Societies' eyes only.

Catching his breath, Arden opened up the file. "Alright, motherfucker. Alright, motherfucker, what the hell've you been hiding this well?" he muttered to himself as he flipped to the latter section on the dive summary. Team Reach's encounter with the Phoenixes in the rest area. They wanted Beck to help with their mission; he could figure that much out. Their plan with him, of course, being…

…He read over it again.

And then he read it again.

And then he read it again.

…The papers slipped out of the Quilava's paws, scattering across the floor as he staggered backwards with rapid breaths, the jubilation in his face now replaced with pure, guttural terror.

"...oh, Jesus Christ..."