Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Centurnum

Chapter 3

Fitness

It had been an eventful day so far for Hachi, she herself mused.

Just early in the morning, before the sun could even cusp the horizon and deliver rays of golden light into Ecruteak village's dew-laden fields and cornered shadows, she had been alert and awake for hours before sunlight crested her. In keeping with her duties as the Illumini- the divinely chosen emissary of the Sacred Fire, Ho-Oh- she found herself occupied with dull, tedious work early in the day.

The usual fare had been for her to sit idly like a statue at the top of a decorated platform, serving to do little else other than be a good idol as the people of Ecruteak trinkled in throughout the day like a modest stream and offered onto her earnest prayers and wishes for their benevolent god.

Hachi usually had observed the world as it passed by her- each moment bleeding into the next as days became mirrors of the ones prior; sun and moon both rising and falling from the world's crest. She need not have done more than this. Simply sitting with her back straight, tails dancing to an endless, silent rhythm, and eyes fixated patiently onto the crowd was enough to please them.

That had been the usual fare.

Today, she had found herself the center of yet another ceremony, but one uncommon to her even within her year that she had spent living in the steepled village. As usual, Pokemon had taken to the village once daylight encroached, scurrying carelessly across the ground through the feet of unminding people and perching on the tiled rooftops to preen themselves. Yet beyond that, the commonplace red streamers and modest torchlight of the village had been momentarily exchanged for more joyful and colorful alternatives: pink and white tapestries cloaked each and every wall around her, as did the scent of warm, sweet bread. Even her usual crimson garment that had clung to her like a second skin had been replaced with a one of a pecha-hue and adorned with lively flowers. The people here now were not deep in prayer, but seemed transfixed on two others who stood before her, all dressed far more particularly than usual. It had been no ordinary ceremony she had grown accustomed to- it was a marriage.

This day had caught her attention, breaking the cycle of passage that had ensnared her. Serving as the exalted witness to the two humans' eternal vows, Hachi did as she always had and patiently observed the crowd before her. But now, she was not just feigning concentration, she was intently watching the event unfold before her curiously. The man and the woman both seemed so happy. An infectious smile made plain on both had confused Hachi, as did the red ball of string held between them.

The man had carefully unwoven a modest length of red string, and cut it off, then split again in its middle. Using the two threads, the couple both had taken a piece and wound it around a finger, tying it with an almost trance-like serenity shared between the two as the crowd watched quietly. This destiny knot- so as Hachi had heard often this day- was supposed to eternally declare an unshatterable bond between these two, even in their lives that would come after in their cycle of return.

She had thought it strange, a contemplative frown falling onto her face. Such pleasantries were wholly unnecessary; if the two wished to pair, why would a little red thread be needed for that? Yet only were they here engaging in such charades, but a whole crowd too, every one of them pulling themselves away from harvesting the fields or milling wheat for food to attend this celebration of love for their fellow family.

The ninetales sighed. Perhaps this idea of many this human culture has demonstrated to her would remain elusive.

As the hours steadily passed, as clouds and sun rose and crossed the sky, the inky-black darkness of night had enshrouded the village once more like a familiar blanket. As was tradition, a robed man with a plump face and a smile took small, cautious steps up the stairs to her, a diligently cleaned plate laden with a colorful assortment of fruits in his hands. A familiar, small child was by his side. Respectfully, he offered the plate of food to her, bowed, and left as slowly as he came- that was, until the child ran past him towards her. An arm was thrown out to stop him, but the child had already made his way to Hachi, an earnest smile known to her on the boy's face. As expected, he reached out his hand and began petting the top of her head, making her feel warm inside. Though she was too proud to admit it to herself, she recently had come to enjoy the child's affection and made no attempt to pull away from him- though she certainly tried to conceal that one of her many tails was sliding back and forth across the floor behind her. The man ran back up the steps in a hurry, clasping the child's arm and pulling him away, fervently offering a hectic mixture of apologies and scoldings clumsily split between the boy and her as the two left into the night.

Hachi found herself finally alone once again on the podium she knew all too well, an offering of food left before her. Bending down, she sniffed the meal and wrinkled her nose. More pecha and leppa berries- a taste that had more than wore out its welcome to her palette over these long months.

Sniffing the air with a wet nose, she caught no scent of man or other close by.

Free, if for a small time.

Standing on stiff legs, her back arched and her limbs stretched to return any semblance of motion to them. Grabbing the stems of the fruit with her jaw, she glided down the carpeted steps and quietly made her way across the kempt floor boards, passing between two of many pillars that led outside. Like many nights before that she left her post, the dark mountains that crowned the murky horizon had provided for a temperate, mild late evening here. Save for the occasional hoot from golden treetops, or musical tones of strung windchimes dangling from some abodes, a tranquil serenity once again had lulled the land to an inviting peace.

She knew well-enough that the villagers would object to her absence, and made sure that none could witness her through her adept hearing and nose. They likely would have someone keep a watchful eye on their emissary to their god if they found them missing at night, and her nightly escapes would end right then and there. That was one possibility. Another terrible reason to ensure she was never seen had burrowed into her mind as well, making her body quake and her jaws tighten at the thought. If her leaving her post for even a moment had been discovered by Ho-Oh- Hachi shook her head, dispelling the thoughts. She had done this many times before by now, and never had encountered any issues. This would not change.

Crossing the kempt path to a crumbling well of old stones and chipped mortar she had visited countless times before, Hachi rose up and planted her front legs on the well's edge, dangling the fruits from her mouth over the deep hole and letting them plummet to their doom to join their ilk. She had no need for measly fruits tonight, she thought to herself as she turned to the village's outskirts; tonight, she would hunt. That was until faint pips and squeaks had made her ears stand and swivel behind her. Just on the well's stony rim stood a brightly yellow electric mouse: a pikachu, and too-well-fed by the looks of it. She had humored the idea of catching it many times before, but she had come to be fond of the round fellow as of late, appreciating the mouse as a sort of familiar, welcome sight in this village. That, and she knew the pet-happy child who hovered around her would be devastated to not find the pikachu anywhere. The pikachu looked saddened as it gazed down the well, a frown made plain across its red cheeks as small bolts of static shot off from them glumly. Dejected, it hopped off the well and scurried behind the corner of a house, disappearing from sight.

That had stirred a thought in her; perhaps she was too hasty in ridding the unwanted fruits- unwanted by her, anyhow. She focused her attention back to the road ahead, spying the furthest reaches of Ecruteak's boundaries marked by a ring of diminishing torchlight. She had a night to herself.

—-

Flooded rice fields marked the furthest reaches of where these humans had dared to inhabit. Even months after becoming thrusted to this place, Hachi had found the sights offered here before the break of forestry to be mesmerizing. Often, on clear, calm nights that frequently visited the small nestled village, the moon and heavenly bodies above shined so brightly down below onto the glistening fields of stalks and cane. Even broken up by the smallest of ripples on the field's surface, or by the many lines of fuzzed grain so densely packed it were like fur, it was like peering into a second starry night that graced the world from below. So lovingly that Hachi had found herself surrounded by shining moonlight from all directions, the ninetales had allowed herself- as many times before- to take a moment of repose and respite, resting on a small dry island of grass and flowers that rested above the shallow pond's surface. Nothing would ever trouble her whilst she engraved herself into the rhythm of the world around her, ears turning every so often to pick up every detail, every muted, far-distant hoot or the hum of wind.

Here, she was home.

For a time, maybe minutes, maybe hours, she rested. For a good night, she would need to be intuned with the world around her. That was the intention, at least before a crackling, sickening snap shattered that rhythm into unrecognizable pieces, and had gotten her to open her eyes for the first time in a while.

Further outside the village, burrowing itself like a tick into the dark forest she had planned to stalk in, was a strange ball. One she had never seen before, nor could she draw any close comparisons to. It was enormous, bigger than any of the houses in Ecruteak, and churning with malice: a hatred of the world it was unwanted in, scarred by wicked bolts and swirling streaks. A flock of round birds- hoothoots, likely- all blotted the sky like a swarm and fled from the terrible sight. Though she had never seen anything like it before, a tinge of recollection crossed her mind: Ho-Oh had spoken about these at length some an amount of times before she was chained to this village. Dimensional rifts, or tumors of the world, they called them. These were the object of Ho-Oh's curiosity, and why they had sought out a champion- sought out her- so that they could freely investigate these strange baubles whilst Hachi maintained a fervent faith in a population. And one was, clinging to the forest she frequented like a ghost.

It was foreign, alien, clearly not meant for this world. Worse yet, it occupied her hunting grounds. Such an affront to nature likely already startled away any prey with its sickening crack through the air. There would be little there for her, save for the tumor of space itself; only Ho-Oh would care for it, she thought. The terrible phoenix was likely scouring the land now, as distant as a ray of the sun beaming across the horizon, searching for wanted answers for unwanted questions. If there was any good to be found from these distortions, any glory or adoration, it would be inside their churning walls. Not for her.

And that was when a thought crept into Hachi's mind, tilting her head as she weighed it. Her life here for the past eleven moons has been a routine: prayer, service, eat, sleep, and repeat, all in repetition like a flat circle. To do less would only invite gnarled talons tearing through her. Only these hunts were all she found herself in control of. Creeping through tall grass, stalking as a shadow, feeling her heart race with each measured step toward a filling reward or humbling failure- there were no other simple joys like it. Staring at the oddity ahead of her, another avenue of freedom called to her.

Standing herself up, the ninetales made her way across the moon-struck field of stalk and grain, caring little for the splashes of water she kicked up as she hurried to the crackling distortion. It was not long before she found herself before the terrible thing. Her pace had slowed from a run to a gait, then from a gait to a walk, then to a stop. Just a modest branch's distance away from her was a hissing wall of sickening resentment, lashing out at the ground and trees near it with violet bolts from its twisting surface, leaving them scarred with scorched scabs. Every golden her on her body stood on end, knowing better than her- screaming at her- that this was a horrid mystery. Nothing in her earned wisdom or tempered body could anticipate what stepping into such whirling disaster might do. Ho-Oh would most certainly object, as well.

Such a feeling was not unknown to her. Often times she was told similarly from feelings within her that she could not do whatever it was she had planned to, a foreign force gripping around her limbs and breath to hold her back. It happened many times before: when she was a vulpix, she felt it first when she stood hungrily at the mouth of a cave that sheltered her from a terrible blizzard, awaiting a mother that would never return. It was there she learned to feed herself. Or when she had stalked a hulking tyranitar back to its lair, finding a trove of stowed berries within- as well as an exhausting escape. It was a feeling she had learned to rebel against, to find favor in reward over risk. And now here it was in a pair, a feeling and a command both telling her to flee back towards safety and comfort.

She stepped inside the dividing wall.

Pushing past the ethereal boundary with eyes focused, feeling as waves of disturbing pulses slid coldly over her figure, she emerged from the divide into the world beyond. It took a moment for her senses to return to her, still reeling, tingling, from the grip of the wall. Shaking off the spinning world around her, her smell was the first to make itself known again. It was strong; an acrid, bitter stench wrinkled her nose and burned her lungs. Only after she wretched could she feel a cold, slick liquid beneath her. Looking down, she found the culprit: she was standing in a black ooze-like substance that had pooled around her paws, faintly shimmering like a rainbow. She had never seen anything like it.

Trodding off the oily substance, she investigated her surroundings further with a rigored curiosity. It was a sea of sand and rocks here, an environment she had never found herself in before. From the border of the corrupted wall she had entered to as far as she could spy, it was rolling hills of sand all around her, more glistening black pools staining a few of them and flecks of irritable grains flying through the air within this enormous dome. Littering the ground were shiny stones and enormous metal studs sticking from the ground, a myriad of colors dotting the desert from their intrusion. She even recognized one stone as a fire stone like one she had found some years ago in an abandoned cart.

Even more curious, strange skeletal towers of metal and iron were erected all around, many of them collapsed onto their sides in heaps of disrepair. Each of these oddities were connected to each other by thick lengths of rope- though admittedly, this rope was a type she was not familiar with. It was far too smooth to be comfortable with, broken patches on them revealing many shiny copper strands within them.

Hachi continued onward, weaving through the metal beams and climbing atop one of the hills, eyes cast upward. In the air above, near the whirring ceiling, were strange… creatures floating above the mess below. A trio of brown beings hovered far above the air, all of them shaped strangely, almost like tall bells with limbs attached to them. Even far below them, she could see their collective green eyes peering down at her, flickering lights at their fingertips being traded amongst one another. Forming a fiery ball within her maw, she shot a flame burst high up into the sky that boomed in the air beside them, sending sparks and embers flying as the strange creatures reeled away, quickly floating to a distant location beyond her reach. There would be no point in pursuing them, she huffed; she would need to find another mark.

Making her way down a black slick slope, the sand in the air began to grow thicker, more intense. It was not long until she felt her fur being pelted by the grains, though thankfully the storm did little else other than make it difficult to see. Though as she peered through the veil of biting wind, a distant figure she did recognize trodded through the plains to her. A hulking mass of green and muscle, the tyrant of mountains: a tyranitar. The figure, though distant and difficult to see, had obviously failed to spot her yet as it lumbered over towards one of the fallen towers. She could feel her heart pound.

This would be an exhilarating fight.

Staying low, she crept towards the shrouded figure, careful to not be seen nor heard. Drawing closer still, her target grew in size as she approached its exposed back. It hunched down towards one of the loose black ropes. A fiery sensation filled her mouth, teeth bared with glaring heat as she leered towards her vulnerable prey, so close to it now. So close she was to where the armor on the beast was the weakest, right at the back of its neck.

She froze.

Tyranitars were massive beasts, cloaked in rugged green armor that often served to blend them into the untamed wilderness they lorded over. From their bulking frames, they poured out whipping storms of sand that shielded them, hid them. They were easily recognizable.

This tyranitar fit none of those descriptions. It was middling in size, smaller than what she had seen before on the mountains, hardly imposing as a lord. Its distinct bulging armor of stone was not present. Rather than blotted tones of brush that lended to blending in with the mountains, this set of armor was shiny, metallic, smooth. Asymmetrical grooves were replaced by perfectly mirrored components no different from their opposite side. And it was not sand that filtered out from the pores on its body, but a strange green fire- if it could even be called fire. The fire pulsed but did not shed embers or smoke or smolder, almost as if it were whole, shaped like thorns on a bush.

Some red lights seemed to flash softly ahead past the thing's head, a quiet deep chirp unlike anything heard before began to play in repetition ahead as well, almost as if the lights and sounds were coming from it itself. The head of the impersonating creature swiveled- not turned- around its neck to face her. She had hesitated, she realized too late, her presence becoming known. Frayed strands of the black rope were in the process of being crushed in the beast's unnatural jaw, sending sparks and flinging wicked bolts from its gnashed form as it stared at her with flat, soulless eyes.

It moved to fight.

The tyranitar-like creature- though lacking any obvious semblance of muscle- had hunched itself down as it swung its body around to face her; an obvious indication for an attack. What she had expected was summoned stones being launched to her or the very earth to threaten to swallow her whole, as was the case with many tyranitar attacks, which could easily be deftly avoided by her if she saw them coming. What she did not expect was for the iron-clad beast to belch out a reverberating howl and a fierce glow building within its open mouth, leering at her. She knew instantly what that had meant and flung herself to the side, twirling through the air as a wicked thunderbolt erupted from its mouth, tracing along the sand in a monstrous roar after her until it fizzled out.

As she gracefully slid to a stop, a peculiar sight caught her attention: left behind in the bolt's wake was a ruinous curtain of red-hot glass standing where the bolt had scorched the sand. It was smooth like the craft of human hands, but jagged, crooked, and flimsy standing between her and it on grains. Perfect.

Summoning a torrent of heat within her throat, she directed its raging course to the crude glass pillars and blew them into glistening shards with a persisting stream of fire. The fragments of glass bursted out towards the mechanical tyranitar; many simply glanced off its smooth hide, but some found their marks and embedded themselves into nooks and gaps of its armor, having it reel back in pain and howl.

Seeing her success, a familiar spark was ignited and made itself known to her. A fire had been kindled within her; the motions of battle invigorating her soul. Adrenaline seeped into every corner, every fiber of her body like a cure, driving her every thought into fluid motion. Rattatas in the forests could not fight back, could offer no challenge, nor did any other wild animal she had preyed upon from months past. Here, she was not the propped Illumini for the Sacred Fire's whims- she was herself, a ninetales who felt at home in the field and alive in the heat of survival. Fulfillment. Purpose. This is what she had missed.

Pressing her advantage, Hachi leapt off the sand onto its exposed back as it began flailing its arms and tail wildly, trying to fling her off. Despite its best efforts, Hachi clung firmly to it, eyes fixed and fangs burning hot as she stared hungrily at the back of its exposed neck. Thrusting her fiery maw forward, she chomped down.

What should have been a satisfying, finishing bite through thin rock into packed flesh was instead stopped. Her pointed teeth had been planted into cold, unbending steel, leaving her stuck as she tried in vain to pull away. As she struggled, pulling her neck and thrashing her head to break free, the head slowly swiveled towards her, looking at her with flat, fragmented eyes.

Trying once more, she tried exhaling burning hot fire into its neck, breathing out and out until she grew breathless. It did not even blink; the attack was ineffective. The iron tyranitar roared deeply as a crackling hum began to charge around its body with green sparks and crackling bolts, building in pitch and ferocity, coating her in a bright green glow as seconds glacially passed by. She frantically thought of everything she could do to escape: fire, a feint attack, lunging away, but she could do none of these with how stuck she was now. Even now, she could feel the burn of fire scorch beneath- and not her own. She was normally immune to such heat, even empowered by it. But the green flares that rose from the beast's openings were different, another matter entirely she realized far too late as she writhed. In one last desperate maneuver, she focused any amount of willpower or energy into any attack, anything she could use, hoping for something- anything.

As if to answer her pleas, she could see past her furrowed brows a strange green light appearing beneath them: a small glowing bulb of a plant had suddenly sprouted by the false tyranitar's feet, smooth leaves twisting into a small ball. It pulsed a verdant hue from its round shape, a dazzling shimmer radiating from its growing, robust petals. Then as quickly as it had taken root, it bloated, then burst in a resounding boom that knocked the creature's feet out from under it in a sandy bloom, topping the both of them over.

The sudden drop to the ground had been just what she needed to unwedge her fangs and roll away as flashing lights and beeps blared out from the thorny beast; that attack had been far more effective than she had anticipated, whatever it was. She shook off her curiosity of whatever that had been and refocused her attention to the recovering opponent. In the time it had taken for herself to push herself off the dune's surface, so had her enemy, who wore a deathly glare.

Its legs trembled fiercely as it focused its power, then stomping down once then twice in earth-shaking slams that blew sand over the area, blinding Hachi in the shower. But the shaking did not stop. Beneath her legs, the ground shook and shook, sifting the sand and burying her paws as the shockwaves grew and grew. She knew what came next. Sparing no time, she hurled herself to the side as a large, jagged rock erupted out from the ground below, piercing the air where she just was. As she landed, she felt as the reverberations continued underfoot. She leapt away again, but without any time to ready an adequate jump, she went far slower than she knew she needed. Another stone's edge burst from the dune below her, shooting past her side in a painful glancing blow that only just hit her. She was launched away, face grimacing as she rolled down a slope and slid to a stop on her side. Leveling herself up, she did not have to look to know that she was bleeding- the lingering ache was more than enough to know. As she steadied her breath, she noticed something: something was rumbling beside her, a hollow gurgle bellowing away in a deep rumble.

It was one of those large metal studs. Though she had never seen anything like it, it was obviously the work of man. From the rattling metal bolts and groaning metal sprayed more of the black oily liquid she had seen within here, pooling around the strange object.

She did not have any more time to think before the iron tyrant belched an echoing howl at her, stomping up the ridge she had tumbled down. Cloaking itself in a blazing emerald glow of crackling electricity, it flung its whole shining body into the whipping air above and fell to her in a wild charge. She had no time to move as she glared at the impending attack, and could only tense to brace for the thundering impact, looking away.

A loud, horrific crash rang through the air as a terrible collision boomed. So devastating it was that chunks and shards of rock and steel were sent flying from the impact, raining down below in a bludgeoning downpour of mayhem.

After a brief, aching moment, Hachi peaked through narrowed eyes. She was still standing, unmoved from the seconds before- untouched. A smoldering plate of olive-colored iron planted itself into the sand beside her with a hearty thunk, having fallen from the sky. Then another metal piece, and another. Gazing up, she became absent of thought, becoming frozen.

The iron-tyranitar she had been struggling against was now raised high in the air above her, grasped by a pair of thick talons that thrashed it violently as if they were toy; carried by crimson wings. Ho-Oh was here, and angry. Breathing in deeply, the Sacred Fire roared out a deafening, divine cry that pierced the whole area with its awe and scope. Ho-Oh slammed the steeled tyranitar to the dunes below, smothering it in sand before raising it up and repeating the process several more times, sending more bits of metal everywhere whilst Hachi could only evade what flew her way. Once Ho-Oh was finished, they picked up the broken body once more, glaring at its feebly moving form: dim, fluttering lights, and a low, hollow groan were all it could muster through mangled parts, unable to even close its misshapen jaw now.

A scoff reverberated out of Ho-Oh's throat. With little effort, they tossed the mess aside, crashing it into the metal protrusion beside Hachi. The structure burst instantly at the heavy impact, its integrity shattered by the force and a geyser of an oily substance sprouting with a roar from where it once stood, drenching Hachi in the bitter-smelling liquid and dousing the area. Satisfied, Ho-Oh' great form flew over Hachi and grabbed her in their talons, ferrying them further and further from the shrinking ground with each grand beat of wings.

Grasped, the stinging prick of daggered claws in her sides, Hachi made no attempt to move, no attempt to resist. She knew better.

As they flew further and further, something caught Ho-Oh's eye as they looked back, slowing them down. It had been near the sprout they left behind. A shulking, broken form slicked in black shambled forth from the oily deluge, a dull charge humming from bent pores on its body . The cursed thing was still alive; a notion that put a stern frown on the Sacred Fire's face.

A long, drawn breath was sucked in by Ho-Oh as a blinding, scorching light built itself within their throat. Lurching forward, a torrent of azure fire erupted out from their beak in a deafening roar, flooding the desert below in a glowing sea of sapphire blaze, the immolating heat of which felt even so far above.

Engulfed, the iron tyranitar could not be seen no more.

The geyser of oil was instantaneously engulfed in the flame, transforming into a fountain of fire that traveled back down into the ground it had emerged from, burning to the source beneath the sands.

A blinding flash flared out from vaporizing sand. Rippling waves shook the air. Hachi could only hear an instance of thunder painfully boom in her ears before she could hear nothing at all, save for a lingering pitched buzz that would not leave her. Her eyes still blinded by a shifting black blotch where she had seen the explosion, her senses of orientation and sound eradicated for a team, she was left spinning in her head, unable to grasp where she was, where she was going. Only one thing had been certain:

Nothing could have survived that.

In the throes of motion, the world a blur around her, they left. The shining sea of fire became distant, blotched out by the growing, granular curtain. In time, they had passed the churning divide she had entered some time before, emerging into the cool, quiet night.

Ho-Oh glided them over the rich canopies, steadily lowering the two of them closer to the ground until Hachi's tails draped along it.

Then Ho-Oh dropped her, letting her thud against the grass.

Hachi picked herself back up. She felt terrible. Her ears were still ringing, her eyes still recovering, and she still felt as though the world spun around her, even as she lay still on firm earth. In the distance was a large, round silhouette, blocked by rows and rows of trees and foliage. They had exited the distortion. From what she could see- blurry as it was- Ho-Oh had landed close by, folding their wings. They had wanted to speak, and the crooked look on them only served to betray their dire intent.

'Has my gift, my mercy meant anything to you?' a voice entered Hachi's mind.

She shook her head- not in disagreement, but out of confusion. She lowered her head down and began pawing at her own ears. She had thought she could not hear; even now, the cacophony of a deafening buzz was all she could recognize.

Ho-Oh's beak cracked open in a scoff- though she could not hear it, that familiar look of superiority and agitation had always been entwined with that face. 'I suppose a circumstance such as this would elude a foolish thing like you. Telepathy has no need for ears; you will hear me and my divine words no matter how deaf you are.' That had not soothed the ninetales. She still remained feebly batting at her own pointed ears. The ringing had diminished, but it still was not something she was comfortable with. 'Must you pointlessly try? Slapping around your ears will not fix them. Your hearing will return in time.' Brandishing their wings in full, Ho-Oh took one beat of their wings and slammed down in front of Hachi, looming over her as she slunk back. They leered forward, their face cloaked in shadow, the glint of a golden, pointed beak pressing against her chest. 'If there is time for you, of course. You have forsaken the role I have so graciously given to you, and for what?'

Hachi spoke, a single bark conveying all she could. 'Please,' she begged. 'Have patience.'

Ho-Oh's brows sunk, borrowing down. 'Patience?' they repeated. 'Patience?!' A talon shot out from Ho-Oh, grappling around Hachi's small throat and crushing it, holding the sputtering ninetales in the air. 'Have I not shown infinite patience for you already? Is this not the second time I have deemed to save you? Your life had already ended when I found you; you have no right to dawdle when this life is something I have given you. I ask of you the most simplest of tasks: all you need to do is sit still for the people whom adore me so, nod to their questions and bolster my earned faith- my adoration!'

A choked whimper was all Hachi could respond with. 'They still love you.'

That had given Ho-Oh pause. They glanced back, over the flooded rice fields and towards the darkened houses standing against the moonlight. The many colored banners and lovingly-crafted windchimes in the image of the Sacred Fire still swung proudly in the night wind. 'So they do.' Ho-Oh released Hachi, letting her drop to the ground as she gasped for air. Turning their back to her, they began pacing the soil, their head swimming in thoughts. 'If the people still hold me within their small hearts, then I suppose you have failed me not as of yet. What is it you were doing in there?' They pointed with their beak towards the whirling distortion. 'You know well-enough these tumors of my land are under my investigation. What has compelled you so to take leave in the middle of the night to one?'

'The hunt,' Hachi breathed out. 'The forests. So lively. So fulfilling.' She looked to the great phoenix, hoping to convey her meaning. 'Not confined. Alive.'

'Is that it, now? You take leave as you please, going off into the forest to play with all the little critters? And now, you had just willingly pranced into an abhorrent rift that is an affront to nature? That is your reasoning?' They ruffled their crimson feathers, a puff of smoke evacuating their nostrils. 'I will never understand your kind. Regardless, I had returned here with the intent of sharing my findings, and a question. No doubt you will be most intrigued, as all are of my being.' A contemplative frown weighed itself on Ho-Oh's beak as they thought how best to explain. 'These tumors that grow across my land fester like a blight; even I was foolish once to believe these terrible boils were contained here and here alone. But through my eyes as I traveled carried by wind, having been freed to take leave whilst you served for me, venturing further and further still, I see that it would be more apt to compare these occurrences to a devilish, consuming disease, and not debilitating happenstance localized in one place. They seem to have spread, or rather, have they spread to here? It matters not now. What has been revealed to me is that these cursed things are present in foreign lands as well; were it comforting to say to know that I am not in alone in being troubled by these curiosities.' Casting a gaze to the one a distance away from them, they raised a great crimson wing to it, sizing the distortion up and down. 'You've seen it, haven't you? Inside each and every one of these things is like another world, unbeholden to ours. I hold no proof, no brand of evidence, so call this divination if you must: but I suspect that these tears across worlds are but glimpse into other times, other places. We offer our own land for a glimpse of another, before the rift closes and each world is given back their hold. Would I have a skilled team of my own, resources and helping hands to answer my every beck and call, I might be able to source this mystery to its roots, and rid these holes once and forever. But I have seen the stock offered to me: many of my followers are dull farmhands and stumbling fools who've no chance of grasping my intent without becoming awed at the sight of me. I adore these looks they hold onto me, but slack-jaws make for poor hands. And so, that has brought me back to you.'

Hachi's head perked up. 'Me?'

Ho-Oh rolled their eyes heavily, like lead balls. 'Yes, you, you fool. Who else might I be conveying to? My work in investigating has slowed considerably, and overseas, I have found a most peculiar thing that has left me pondering a change I may enjoy. There is a land far west of here, nestled in the ocean and filled with a great many people. But there, I sense something… dreadful. Evil. Objects of ill-intent that I wish to further investigate, that have come to occupy this foreign land. And so, I have come here to ask you a simple question.' They loomed closer, dark eyes reflecting starlight peering into Hachi's soul. 'What are these humans that you have come to shepherd to you?'

'These humans?' she huffed back. She had thought of them as inconsequential, animals who held no power and cowered inside houses. That they only lived day to day with no grander purpose. But that was some time ago. Now, she looked at them more tolerantly. It was still true they were weak, but they harbored a pack, a family, that had formed a community of progress and embrace with each other, and had accepted her so readily when she not them. A foolish, naive trait. And one she held some fondness for. 'They survive, no greater plan. A pack without purpose. A pack happy with their toil.'

A proud smile grew on Ho-Oh's beak, craning upwards. 'Yes, you see it as well. They are simple things, devoid of a grander purpose than to celebrate me. They are fickle and frail, but at the very least, they recognize their place.'

Hachi did her best to smother a frown; she knew better than to argue.

'That had been all I wished to relay to you. I must ponder what I must do going towards the future, and weigh your answer in full. I may have another gift for you then.' Brandishing their wings in full, they took to beating them, rising above the ground and hovering above her. 'I might fly over the village as a treat for the stargazing few as I take my leave once more. They do oh-so love their fleeting sights of me. As for you: go clean yourself. You look terrible, and I expect my Illumini to be at the very least kempt and shining when representing me.' Hachi's attention turned to herself. Just as Ho-Oh had said, she had looked awful. Layers of sand had found their way under her coat, leaving irritating grains that itched her and fell with every step she took; a mixture of that black oily liquid and a dark red from her own drying blood had matted her fur on her side. She was a mess. 'Know this, my champion,' Ho-Oh continued. 'Be wise and cautious if you are to galivant these nights further when my duties come to rest: though I have revived you once, do not expect so again should you fall. A merciful god may grant second chances, but only a foolish one would deal a third.'

—-

The constant, unyielding pattering of rain pelts an array of drabbed pitched tents, warm light flooding from each out onto pools of puddles and mud outside. Only this brief respite to take comfort in for many. A line of suffocating smoke seems to rise from one large shelter in particular, a gathering of cloaked men inside, all hunched over a table strewn with a mess of papers and maps, plans and actions. Brothers in arms they were, each knowing one another. Hand-held lanterns and ash trays both have been made to double as paper weights here, pinning what papers they can against wind that has snaked its way inside. It has been a long day.

Hastily making his way through the storm clinging to his coat and a tucked package, his boots splashing against cold puddles, arrives a helmeted man soaked to the bone. Spotting the tent like none other, he knows his location, and emerges. All turn to see him, save for one man more heavily layered than the others, his attention still anchored to the sea of information in front of him.

"General, sir," the carrier finally speaks, holding out the wrapped parcel. "For you."

Taking a long draw of a cigar, Anton turned around, eyeing the package. 'Anton W.' it was labeled. "What have they said?" he asked casually through smoke, his light still hanging from his mouth. Taking the package from the deliverer, he deftly peeled back the sodden paper and fished for the object inside.

"Nothing, sir. At the very least, that's what's been relayed to me. They can't make heads or tails of it."

He felt something small, rigid, and metallic. Pulling the item out, Anton produced a familiar metal badge, the one he had found buried in deep snow back within Johto from a distortion's aftermath. The unfamiliar insignia of a shield backed with overlapped swords and engraved with unknowable text had eluded its meaning to him; and to his scholars and scientists back home. An old, weathered frown crossed his face. He did not like not knowing. "You are excused." With a wave of his hand, the messenger was dispelled from the tent after presenting a proud salute.

A sergeant at his side caught a glimpse of the badge before it was shoved into Anton's pocket. He had seen it momentarily months before, and had known where it had been found. "Still chasing ghosts" he asked, words stenched with smoke. "Call me a fool if you must, but I don't understand your fixation for these distortions and whatever trinkets they leave behind, brother. We've been far too preoccupied managing your plans to take notice of these baubles."

"Then you are a fool," Anton simply stated. Turning back towards a map, he unburied it from a grave of other topographies and plans, bringing it to the top. On its charted lines were sketched red circles: areas which they had confirmed the prior presence of the distortions. Under his command, he had leveraged much of his influence to send teams of the finest minds and agents to each distortion as they found them, and the information they had sourced- scarce as it was- had been enlightening. "These distortions are not mere happenstance, not simple rifts of randomized contents. They are spacial-temporal anomalies, that we can confirm. From evidence we've gathered inside many of the rifts, we've been able to cross-reference geological fragments, plants, wildlife, entire ecosystems, anything to what we know and have found very likely locations they had originated from. Two areas, separated by both distance and time, yet they come to trade hats for a small while." Anton pinched his cigar between fingers, taking a droll inhale of smoke. "That sounds interesting to me. Doesn't it to you?"

"These interests don't help us to conquer."

A sly, dismissive stare was levied onto the man. "They will in time. If we are the first to understand these distortions in full, then subsequently become the first to grasp them as a tool, we can win battles without even fighting them. Victory through dominance. Take for example, these maps." Gesturing his hand over a sample of papers, he identified the ones most similar and placed them in view of all. Each one was starkly close in resemblance to the other, but different in some ways. Some paths winded east instead of west; other maps had rising hills where others had low plains. They were universally cryptic; no paths made sense.

"And what does this prove?" he asked. "That we have scouts surveying a region?"

"Even better. These maps are one and the same of a single locale: a forest overseas where one such distortion had been some time ago."

That had given the sergeant some pause. "I'm sorry?"

"Yes, you are. But back to the topic of these maps: Each one of these maps had been redrawn over the period of weeks. When the distortion had collapsed and left the land stolen back in our world once more, it wasn't perfect in its placement. Exits become dead-ends, long marches become short detours, and what was known is again lost. Dispute it all you wish, sergeant, but these are factors we and the world will contend with in the future to come. There is also the matter of what occurs within these rifts as well." Reaching over the table, he picked up a water stone that had come to be used as a paperweight. Placing it front and center, its azure, bubbly texture shimmered in the light of the room. "Like children's playthings, messes of these evolutionary stones and peculiar object seem to litter these distortions. I cannot even begin to fathom as to why, but these precious resources are worth gathering just the same- as are the creatures found alongside them." He looked over to a speckled man opposite the table. "If you would, brother."

Heeding Anton's instruction, the man hastily thumbed through a folder, counting under his breath page numbers he knew too well as of late. He stopped rifling through the papers and pulled out a battered sheet, handing it to Anton.

"Thank you." Straightening the paper, he laid it flat across the table. It had been a worn piece of parchment; tears and freckled stains had made their home on it. Drawn crudely on its crumpled form was a simple picture of a donphan: its trunk, low bulky frame, and stout legs could give that away even with their terrible presentation. But something was different about it, difficult to describe. Had something been truly off about it, or whether those subtle differences could be attributed to the poor drawing could not be decided. "Given the temporal aspect of these rifts, not excluding the spacial component as well, I suppose it makes perfect sense that those caught within its radius are to be transported with the distortion to a new time and place. Take for example this donphan," he said, tapping the paper.

Many leaned forward to examine the drawing closer. Upon a closer look, peculiarities had made themselves known, small as they were. The tusks were rather larger, larger than usual; small rivets snaking along the back had not been poor stylistic choices by the creator, but rather a had meant to convey something. And was that a tail?

"Inside one of these distortions, one of our scientists had stumbled upon this fellow and hastily captured its likeness for us to find, stowing it away in the terrain. At the very least, that's what we believe."

"You believe?" the sergeant repeated.

"It's what we believe; it's difficult to confirm the exact events without the man himself. what we believe to be a regional variation of a donphan, yet strangely enough, we've no records of it in any place. But imagine that: times where what we know has been twisted into hulking monstrosities with freakish strength; untamed and without peer. I've also heard talk of rumors. As if these rifts could be any more strange, machines- if you can call them that- bearing eerily similar resemblances have also been seen by an unlucky few. They are utterly foreign to our world, nowhere, no place, no nation we know of could have made them. They are small, compact, and perfected. Perfectly symmetrical bodies housing terrible power. That is why we must study these distortions: to be ahead of the curve."

"Even when we lose precious men to them when they're still inside these things as they close?" Anton did not respond; his authoritative, unmakeable stare was more than enough to answer. A low grumble rumbled out of the sergeant's throat. Picking up a lonesome cigar from an ashtray, he held it up to his mouth but stopped, and put it back down.

"There is no greater death than in the service of our great nation, brother," Anton continued, patting the sergeant's back. "And don't fret about the manpower." He pointed to a map tucked in a corner of the table. It had been a full-scale map of their homeland, the Paldea region, their empire. Surrounding the west coast, entrapping a length of desert land, was a bold black circle. It had been territory they were not in possession of; the neighboring small nation of Marea. It had become a satellite-state thanks to strong-armed diplomacy in the face of the Paldean Empire. "We've been starved of new recruits as of late I think you'll agree; we've exhausted all able-bodied men we could in Paldea. We'll need more hands soon if we are to continue these campaigns and to better understand these dimensional holes. Why not take a short jaunt down to our good friends some time, and see what we find?"

"Very well, so long as it helps us. I'll hold fast with you at the helm." the sergeant finally spoke. "Oh, and one other thing: word is you aren't the only nutcase looking around for these things."

"So I'm aware." Anton tapped his smoking bud, dispelling loose ash onto the floor. "It was some beast called 'Ho-Oh,' was it not?"

"That's what they're saying. There's been reports over this month of a giant red bird flying in from the east, and it seems to loiter around our established sites for distortions."

Anton waved his hand in the air dismissively, wafting away the stench of cigar smoke. "I've been aware for some time. I am not a fool; we need not see it further to know that it is a powerful threat. If it is a enormous phoenix, we can safely assume it to be devastating in force." Shifting through the mountain of papers before them, he searched for a series of drafts he had penned some time ago, prior to this night. Sliding away outdated maps, inventory sheets, and general notes, he found it: his list of demands and plans. "Which is why I have created this," he explained, passing the papers to the man opposite to him. His eyes became glued to each line, running through the document as his expression grew to one of awe before passing it to another beside him, repeating the cycle as murmurs grew. "We can recount the men lost to the Black Veil of the Tundra in southern Galar. Just one beast, one mare cloaked in shadow, had nearly ruined our operation there. I won't allow us to be reactive to such a threat now; we shall be proactive."

The papers finally arrived into the hands of the sergeant. Like all before him, his eyes seemed to rigidly, yet swiftly follow the lines with no stop, like a train to rails. It was a request to consider the possibility of invading Johto to prevent 'dire consequences' to the Paldean Empire. Buried behind the first page was an inventory sheet of requested items for use in Paldea against an 'overwhelming force.' A request of portable cannons to be designed to fire customized ammunition of highly-conductive steel wires tethered to skewers; crossbows to be fitted with wider frames and capable of holding broader projectiles; a list of desirable Pokémon to be tamed and deployed alongside a battalion of men; a large quantity of their electric and rock tera supplies; and an object of great value to be chosen personally by Anton himself, its true name blotted out by thick black ink. Each line carried with it an expected cost, a brief explanation for its purpose, and a signature from Anton himself. The sum at the end was devastating. Before he could speak, Anton had reached over and retrieved the list from him, a proud smile present. "That was far too many zeroes at the end of that statement, general."

"I expect only the best equipment and operations for our forces; I would spare nothing less."

"And we thank you for that, but how will you get the emperor to agree to this, let alone the House of Defense? It isn't exactly a controversial thing to say now that you've been a big hole for our treasury over the years, but this? It's a chasm. And we are to consider conquering Johto so soon?"

"Don't you worry, I have it all in hand. And besides, for every nation I've led to us to waving a flag over, we've come to acquire more resources than we've lost. I've an inkling of a guess as to what this creature has sensed, what it is looking for, and so we shall use that as bait. But I could be wrong. What if this Ho-Oh is preluding an invasion to our homeland, possibly scouting us? We stand to lose far more. I will not allow this nation to suffer the interference of a giant red chicken, to wait until we are attacked. Either way, it must be dealt with."

The sergeant leaned forward, planting his hands on the table and an almost sarcastic smile on his face. "Chicken?" he repeated. "Many in Johto regard this Ho-Oh as 'the Sacred Fire,' a piece of the sun given form, a guardian to the life after!" He leaned forward. "They consider it a god."

A small, deep chuckle rumbled out of Anton's throat.

"Very well then," he said, taking a puff of his exhausted cigar.

"Then I shall lay a trap for god."