The following are notes on the dungeon known as "Lost Soul Dungeon." This document is classified and intended for authorized personnel only. Unauthorized access is strictly prohibited.
18th Day of the Frostmoon, Year 742 of the Luminous Age.
A new mystery dungeon had appeared on the Mist Continent, located in a rocky mountain range.
Eager to uncover potentially valuable resources and secrets, the Guildmaster of Mistridge Village, Electivire, immediately dispatched an exploration team to investigate. Given the gravity of the situation, he entrusted the mission to one of his most promising teams.
Team BlazingAura—consisting of a Riolu and Vulpix—had quickly risen to Platinum Rank, their exploits already sending shock-waves through the guild. Despite their unevolved forms, they possessed a tenacity and strength that rivaled veteran teams. Electivire had no reason to doubt their success. He had every confidence they'd return triumphant, carrying new discoveries with them.
It has now been one year since they entered what has been christened 'Lost Soul Dungeon.'
The following logs are taken from Guildmaster Electivire's personal journal. They contain only parts that have been deemed relevant to the case.
Guildmaster's Log #1:
It has been a full day since Team BlazingAura set out for the new, unexplored dungeon. They packed more than enough provisions for a full week's excursion. The trip should be straightforward; no more than five days at most. Two days to reach the dungeon, a day for exploration, and two days to return.
Losing one of my all-star teams, even for a few days, will certainly strain the guild's operations. Team BlazingAura has been instrumental in handling high-priority missions. However, this is an important task—and a test of their capabilities. If all goes according to plan, they may very well return with a shiny new Diamond Rank.
In the meantime, Team NoiseHound will need to step up and take on some of their assignments. Fortunately, the past month has been relatively calm.
Yet, something gnaws at me. I can't help shake this feeling… Call it a gut intuition. Something that has helped me in my Guildmaster position many times. Still, I have faith in BlazingAura. They'll bring back something valuable, maybe even uncover some new resources that could help with the berry shortage.
Speaking of which, berry supplies have dwindled again. I'll need to reassign some teams to dedicated harvesting duties soon. There's always something to manage, it seems. The work of a Guildmaster is never done.
Guildmaster's Log #2:
Well, so much for relative calm. Me and my big mouth.
A rather nasty earthquake hit earlier this morning. Thankfully, the guild is built to last—strong enough that not even Tornadus or Groudon could tear it down. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for many of the buildings in town. Teams are scrambling to help those affected, clearing rubble and tending to the injured. It's chaos, but we're managing... for now.
This certainly hasn't helped the berry shortage, either. We're fortunate the guild's stockpile remains untouched, but we'll need to share with the townsfolk for the time being. No telling when a shipment from another town will arrive with things in such disarray.
I knew I had a bad feeling. I just hope this earthquake didn't reach Team BlazingAura. Arceus forbid it struck while they were in that dungeon. Reports from the Pelipper Delivery Service are starting to come in, and it sounds like the earthquake was felt across the entire continent. That's... troubling.
I want to send a team to check on them, but my hands are tied here. The town needs us now. I've reached out to the Expedition Society, though I imagine they're just as overwhelmed with damage control.
What a mess.
Guildmaster's Log #3:
I think my worst fears are starting to come true.
It's been a full week since BlazingAura set out for the new dungeon. They have yet to return.
The earthquake is undoubtedly tied to this. I can only hope it hit before they entered the dungeon—or after they had safely left. If it struck while they were inside... I don't even want to imagine the consequences. We've never truly documented what happens to a mystery dungeon during a natural disaster. There are some scattered accounts, but no one really knows what becomes of the dungeon itself. Maybe it warps, maybe it collapses. Maybe something far worse.
But at the end of the day, it's still a cave. Even without the dungeon's unpredictable nature, it could easily become their tomb.
Things are finally beginning to calm down here in Mistridge. The Conkeldurr Construction Corps have started rebuilding, salvaging whatever they can from the rubble. Resources, though, are thinning rapidly. It's all paws on deck now for berry retrieval. We're scraping by, but only just. A week without proper rations is starting to weigh on everyone.
But BlazingAura… They should've returned by now.
I pray to Arceus they've been delayed by something as simple as assisting those affected by the earthquake on their journey. That they're still out there, helping others like they always do. It's the only explanation I can cling to.
Still... this unease is growing. If something's gone wrong... no, I can't think like that. Not yet.
Guildmaster's Log #4:
It's been two weeks.
I can't deny it any longer—something has happened to BlazingAura. Whether it was in the dungeon itself or somewhere along the way, I should have realized sooner. I should have acted the second they didn't return on time. But this berry famine… it's consumed too much of my attention.
I wish Wigglytuff were here. They'd know how to manage this better than I could. They always had a way of handling crises with that strange, disarming confidence. I've been trying to keep it together, but this is different.
The chaos from the earthquake is finally starting to settle. Guilds from the other continents have sent help with recovery efforts, and I'm grateful for the extra hands. With the town more stable now, I'm finally able to do what I should have done earlier.
I've assigned Team Dragon Raid to search for them. Dragonite and Salamence are the best we have, their ability to fly giving them a huge advantage. They'll get there fast, and from the air, they'll have a better chance of spotting anything—any sign of BlazingAura.
But deep down, I can't shake the fear that this may not be a rescue mission at all. I have to prepare myself for the possibility…
The thought twists my stomach, but I still hold on to the smallest sliver of hope. Maybe—just maybe—they're out there, waiting to be found. Maybe they're still alive.
But if not… I can't help but feel responsible.
Guildmaster's Log #5:
The entrance is gone.
When Team Dragon Raid reported this to me, my first thought was that the entrance must have collapsed. A landslide, a cave-in—something natural. That, at least, would make sense. But that's not what they meant.
The entrance to the dungeon is straight up gone.
I don't even know how to process this. My immediate reaction was to assume they had gone to the wrong place. Maybe the quake shifted the terrain, or they were mistaken. But Dragonite and Salamence were adamant—they had gone to the exact coordinates, the precise spot where the dungeon was reported. And yet, all they found was smooth mountain rock. As if the dungeon had never existed in the first place.
I wanted to push harder, to find some flaw in their story. But I know Team Dragon Raid. They don't make mistakes. If they say the entrance has disappeared, then I have no choice but to believe them.
And that terrifies me.
The only rational explanation I can cling to is that this was all some elaborate hoax. Maybe someone thought it would be clever to fabricate a dungeon sighting and drain the guild's already stretched resources. But even that doesn't make sense. If it was a hoax, where in Giratina's name is BlazingAura?
Dragon Raid is going to expand their search, combing the routes BlazingAura likely took to reach the dungeon. I've also sent word to a dedicated Rescue Team guild—some of their best trackers are en route. It cost a fortune, but right now, money is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is finding BlazingAura.
I'm trying to keep my mind focused on practical solutions, but something about this whole situation feels... wrong. Mystery dungeons don't just vanish. There's always something left—a trace, an echo. But if Team Dragon Raid is right, and the dungeon was there one moment and gone the next…
I don't want to think about what that means. But I can't ignore the sinking feeling that this is only the beginning of something far worse.
Guildmaster's Log #6:
I…
I don't even know how to start this journal entry.
The trackers from the Rescue Guild arrived a few days ago. I have to admit, they're impressive—spotting small details that would've gone unnoticed by anyone else. Even though it's been weeks, they managed to find traces of BlazingAura's path. Faint claw marks, strands of fur… little things that all lead to one place.
The cliff face.
The cliff face where the dungeon was supposed to be.
Right now, the leading theory is that the earthquake might've caused them to plummet off the mountain into the valley below. But that doesn't make any sense! We have teams scouring the mountain as we speak, and there isn't even a single sign of a rockslide. The earthquake didn't leave a mark. And that, in itself, raises more questions than answers.
No signs of a struggle. No obvious dangers. Just... nothing. What disturbs me the most is that every single trace points to them making it to the "dungeon." But there's no evidence they ever began to make their way back.
As impossible as it sounds, all signs are pointing to one conclusion: there was a dungeon there. At some point, it existed. And I'm certain BlazingAura went in before the earthquake struck. But now? It's as if the mountain itself swallowed them whole.
I've decided to hire an Excadrill digging squad. I'm going with them to the mountain. We're going to dig, we're going to search, and we're going to find that dungeon.
I'm sorry, Dragon Raid. But one way or another, we will find evidence of this dungeon. I don't care if we have to tear down the entire mountain to do it.
Guildmaster's Log #7:
The Excadrill digging squad is here. We're getting ready for the trek to where the dungeon should have been—or was. Unfortunately, though predictably, one of the parents of the missing team members showed up at the guild today. It's been two months since BlazingAura disappeared. We've done our best to keep this under wraps, or at least contained to the Mist Continent. But as it turns out, the Riolu on the team regularly wrote letters to his mother—a Lucario who lives all the way on the Water Continent. When the letters stopped arriving, it wasn't long before she grew suspicious.
Naturally, she didn't take the news well. She came storming in, desperate for answers. And when I told her her son was missing, I could see the light in her eyes go out. It's one of the hardest parts of this job—telling a family that their loved one is missing in the line of duty. Dungeon exploration has its dangers, everyone knows that. But saying it out loud to someone's mother? It hits different.
She was near a full panic attack. I did my best to console her, to reassure her that we're doing everything we can. But how do you comfort a mother whose child has disappeared without a trace in a place that might not even exist anymore? I barely got her to leave my office in one piece.
The camps are set up at the base of the mountain now. Search parties are still combing the valley, almost as if they refuse to accept what the evidence is screaming at us—that something far stranger than a simple disappearance has happened here.
I'm planning on setting up our camp right outside the supposed entrance to the dungeon. We'll start digging as soon as everything is in place. Part of me hopes we find something, anything that can explain this mess. I-
Sorry for the abrupt sentence cut-off in this log. As I was writing the above, the Riolu's mother came storming back into my office, determined and unshaken. She insisted on joining the expedition, despite every argument I threw at her. No matter what I said about the dangers or how this was guild business, she wouldn't hear it. She's a mother on a mission. Nothing is going to stop her from finding her son.
It completely derailed my original train of thought. But, honestly? This might be a blessing in disguise. A Lucario can sense aura through almost anything. If anyone could find a trace of BlazingAura—or even confirm if the dungeon still exists—it's her.
Though, thinking about it… Why has no one tried this already?
Guildmaster's Log #8:
The trek to the mountains has been going pretty smoothly. We've encountered some of the search parties for BlazingAura along the way. I can see many of them losing hope, but given that we have one of the missing team member's mothers with us, they did their best not to show it.
As dusk approached, we stopped to rest, despite the mother's protests. I had to explain to her that arriving at the site exhausted wouldn't help anyone. It's one of the fundamental principles the guild drills into us: work well, eat well, rest well.
As we finished setting up a light camping site, I found myself by the campfire with the leader of the Excadrill digging squad and the Riolu's mother. We had a long conversation—one I don't think I'll ever forget. I won't transcribe the entire thing, but it hit me in a way I never anticipated.
I'd tried, once again, to offer her some comfort. She seemed calmer than when we were back at the guild, but the worry in her eyes hadn't diminished. She admitted that she wished her son had chosen a safer line of work. Something that didn't involve dungeons. Her boy, like so many others, had dreams of becoming a legendary hero, inspired by guild members of the past. But that wasn't what made her relent and allow him to join the guild.
She'd actually tried to find him a safer job. Something that wouldn't lead him into danger. But, as she told it, it didn't take long before she realized just how limited his options were.
Her family was old-fashioned in the sense that males were the primary breadwinners, while females took care of the home. She told me she didn't mind this—an unconventional role for a Lucario, perhaps, but she found peace in it. She enjoyed housekeeping and having the freedom to spend time with others. But it also left her unaware of what the job market was really like.
Her husband, a Blaziken, had been a high-ranking member of the guild. They'd built a comfortable nest egg before his passing, but even that wasn't enough to support both her and her son indefinitely. And as much as she didn't want to lose him to the dangers of the guild, she soon found that every safe job she sought for him was either already filled or required specific skills and types that her son didn't possess.
Even the Kecleon merchants turned him down. Apparently, Kecleon are just born salesmon, and there's little room for anyone else in that line of work.
At this, the Excadrill squad leader chimed in, mentioning how fortunate he was to be a Ground type with a specialized skill set—digging was always in demand, whether for construction or mining. The Riolu's mother could only sigh, lamenting how Fighting types weren't quite so lucky.
That comment struck me. I hadn't really thought about it before. I'd joined the guild willingly when I was still just an Elekid, worked my way up, and eventually became Guildmaster. It always felt natural to me. But listening to her, I started to realize how much I'd taken for granted.
Most of the non-guild jobs are monopolized by certain species. Kecleons run the merchant stalls. Kangaskhans manage the inns. Chanseys and Audinos handle medical care. Beyond that, the options for Pokémon like Riolu are few and far between.
And then it hit me: everyone else gets funneled into the guild. For many, it's not a choice. It's the only viable path left to them. Joining a guild means venturing into dungeons, into life-threatening situations, just to make a living. And the worst part? Most don't even get the glory of being considered heroes.
This seems strange coming from a Guildmaster, but… I wonder how many of my own members joined this guild willingly. I've always assumed they were here out of passion for the work, like I was. But now, I'm not so sure.
BlazingAura, they wanted to be heroes, but maybe if they'd had more choices… maybe they wouldn't be in this mess.
Guildmaster's Log #9:
We made it to the mountains and are currently setting up camp outside of where the dungeon supposedly was. It feels… unnerving, though I can't say for sure if it's the altitude getting to me or just being this close to where the dungeon once stood. It's strange—this place feels heavy with something unseen, something wrong. As if the air itself is holding a secret, just waiting to be revealed.
This will likely be a shorter log. We're still getting the tents up as I write this, but I wanted to capture the moment—this quiet before we start digging into the unknown.
Team Dragon Raid was right. Where the dungeon should be, there's nothing but smooth mountain rock. It's as if the dungeon was never here at all. Just blank stone, cold and solid, taunting us with its stillness. But I know… I know there's more to this. Something about it feels off, like a door hidden in plain sight, waiting to be opened.
Whatever secrets this mountain is hiding, we're going to uncover them. I owe it to BlazingAura… and to everyone who still hopes we'll bring them home. No matter what.
Guildmaster's Log #10:
We've only been here a day, and already things are proving to be far stranger than I anticipated. As eager as everyone was to get started, I insisted we rest first. Maybe it was my desire to make sure we were all ready for whatever awaited us, or maybe it was just the lingering pit in my stomach. I can't say for certain.
I had a strange dream last night. I was standing in a thick fog, unable to see anything clearly. Shapes shifted in the mist, always just out of reach. I called out to them, hoping for an answer, but all I could hear was an unsettling silence.
After what felt like an eternity, I saw a flicker of movement. A faint silhouette emerged—small and familiar, a Vulpix. I couldn't make out her features, but I knew it was her. She stood perfectly still, staring back at me with… something. Her expression was unclear, neither relieved nor frightened. She didn't speak, and I couldn't either. We were just… there, standing in the fog.
And then, she turned and walked away, disappearing back into the mist.
I woke up feeling uneasy. I'm not sure what it means. Maybe it's my mind playing tricks on me, or the stress of all this weighing on me. Still, I can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong.
I tried to distract myself shortly after waking up. Went to check on the Riolu's mother. I got close to her tent but stopped when I heard her sobbing. I think the reality of it all is finally hitting her, too. I didn't disturb her. She needs time to grieve.
I hoped, after a night like that, the morning would offer some clarity. But…
Guildmaster's Log #11:
Arceus above.
She had the same dream. About the Riolu. Almost exactly. She described him in the same manner as I saw the Vulpix. The dense fog, wanting to call out to him, but unable to speak. His disappearance into the mist...
What in the name of Arceus is happening to us?
Guildmaster's Log #12:
I've been struggling to figure out how to open this one. Try as I might, there's only one phrase that keeps repeating in my mind.
What the actual fuck!?
Me and my stupid, bright ideas.
After that unpleasant dream, my original plan of having the Riolu's mother sense where the dungeon's caverns may be was put on hold. Right away, the Excadrill squad began to dig into the rock. And shortly afterward, the injuries began to pile up. Thankfully, nothing serious—some dented claws, scrapes, and bruises—but that by itself is alarming.
There is nothing an Excadrill shouldn't be able to drill through. I've heard stories of them breaking through solid diamond without breaking a sweat. Even the leader of the squad seemed flabbergasted by the mounting injuries. It's as if the mountain itself is resisting us.
They've been formulating a new plan of attack. They would work in shifts. One would chip away at the rock while the others recovered from their wounds. If that one were to injure themselves, the least injured would take over for them. I couldn't help but find this a bit off-putting, but when I brought it up, they were surprisingly casual about it—almost excited. Like it's a challenge they're eager to face.
But durable rock in the spot where a dungeon once stood is one thing. What happened next… Arceus, I shouldn't have pushed her to try and sense for the dungeon.
Once she had calmed down from the dream, I asked the Riolu's mother if she could use her aura to sense anything below us. If we couldn't see the dungeon, maybe she could feel the Pokémon inside it.
It started off normal. She closed her eyes and entered a trance. I asked if she could sense anything. She didn't respond at first, but I saw something shift in her expression—subtle, but it was there. Her brows furrowed, and she mouthed a 'what,' confusion crossing her features. Then, without warning, she froze, her eyes wide in shock.
And then she screamed.
It wasn't just a cry of fear—it was a horrid, guttural shriek, like nothing I've ever heard before. The sound tore through the camp, sending everyone scrambling. Her body went rigid, and before I knew it, she collapsed, convulsing violently. Her limbs jerked uncontrollably, eyes rolling back as foam gathered at the corners of her mouth. I barely had the presence of mind to roll her onto her side, making sure she wouldn't choke.
Chaos erupted around us. Pokémon rushed down the mountain, calling for help, but all I could focus on was the sound of her breathing—rasping, shallow, like something was draining her from the inside out.
She's unconscious now, recovering at the base of the mountain. The medics say she's stable, but still… this does nothing to calm my nerves. I don't know what she saw. I don't know what could've done this to her. But whatever it is, it's down there. And we're getting too close.
I've never felt so unnerved on a mission before. There's something wrong with this mountain.
I'm seriously considering bringing in more teams. I'm not sure we're equipped for this.
Guildmaster's Log #13:
The Riolu's mother has woken up. However, this has done little to comfort us. She doesn't remember a thing. Who she is, how she got here, or even her own son. On one hand, perhaps this is for the best after... whatever she had seen. I shudder to think what her reaction would have been when we discovered the body of her child.
But still, seeing her now—wandering the camp like a lost soul, her eyes vacant—it fills me with a sadness I can't express in words. To see someone stripped of everything that made them whole, someone who just days ago was desperate for answers, and now... she doesn't even know the questions. It feels like the mountain itself has taken something from her, something intangible yet vital. We're working on getting the proper authorities to help her, but in the meantime, the only thing I can do is focus on getting into this dungeon. I have to.
We now have a squad of healers with us, mostly Audino, tending to the wounds the Excadrill keep sustaining. I can tell the stress is getting to all of us. The diggers keep talking about oddities—fragments of rock they know they chipped off somehow appearing back in place, like the mountain is repairing itself when no one's looking. They try to brush it off as a trick of the mind, but I see the fear in their eyes when they think I'm not watching. Even the Audino seem rattled. There's something wrong here, something none of us can quite understand, and it's only getting worse.
As a Guildmaster, I've never felt so powerless. There have been moments where I've wanted to just march up to that cave the Excadrill have been digging into and punch it myself, to do something. But if the Excadrill, with their steel claws, are getting hurt, I'd only break my fist. Every time I walk past that cave entrance, I feel a strange pull in my gut, like the mountain is mocking us, daring us to try harder. Daring us to fail.
I can't ignore the fact that the search parties below are just going through the motions now, looking for something they already know isn't there. We all know it—everyone knows it—but no one wants to admit it out loud. Admitting it would mean accepting what this has all become: a recovery mission, not a rescue. I see the desperation in the way they comb the valley, repeating the same areas over and over, as if by some miracle they'll find a clue we missed. But miracles are in short supply these days.
Until we break into that dungeon, there's nothing more we can do. And I'm starting to wonder... maybe we're not meant to.
Guildmaster's Log #14:
Another dream. Or perhaps... a nightmare.
I saw them again. Team BlazingAura.
They were outside the cave, almost jovial. The Riolu pumped his fist in excitement at the thought of unexplored territory, though I could tell the Vulpix was far more reserved, hesitant even. Her tails twitched with unease, and her eyes darted toward the cave, like she could sense something wasn't right. Still, all it took was a comforting smirk from the Riolu to lift her spirit. Her tension eased, and though her fur masked it, I knew she was blushing. There was an unspoken mutual attraction between them—one we all saw, even if they were too naive to realize it themselves.
They entered the dungeon's entrance as they had done for countless others. I wanted to scream, to call out, don't go in! Not this time! But I was without voice, without body, bound to watch them walk straight toward their doom. The crushing weight of knowing what awaited them, the horror of being helpless, was unbearable. I wanted to cry, but with no eyes, I was left with nothing but an overwhelming sense of despair I couldn't release.
Then, it happened—the earthquake. The ground rumbled, and in the distance, I saw the entrance begin to close. But the rock didn't crumble or collapse. No, it was worse. It moved. It molded itself shut, like a wound healing over, sealing them inside. There was something alive about the way the stone flowed, as if the mountain itself was conscious, hiding something from the world.
I awoke, drenched in sweat, my fur matted with tears. I had felt their terror, their last moments of hope before it was snuffed out, and I could still feel that raw panic clinging to me like a fog. I went outside for air, hoping the cool night would soothe my nerves. The pale moonlight illuminated the cliff face, and that's when I saw her.
The Riolu's mother.
She stood unnaturally still, like a statue carved into the rock, staring into the abyss of the cave entrance. The light of the moon cast long shadows over her face, making her expression unreadable, but I could hear her muttering, something frantic and incoherent. I approached cautiously, calling out to her, but she didn't respond—didn't even blink. It was only when I touched her shoulder that she broke from her trance, collapsing into my arms, utterly confused as to how she had gotten there.
I'm still trying to process it all. As insane as it sounds, I don't think that dream was just a dream. It felt real, like I had somehow glimpsed into the past, seen the exact moment when they entered the dungeon... and when it shut them inside.
This is beyond anything we're capable of handling. I have no doubt now—we're dealing with something far bigger than we ever imagined. I've started reaching out to every guild I know, but I'm not even sure the most powerful among us would be able to manage this. This isn't just a guild matter anymore. The Legendary Pokémon need to be aware of this.
Whatever force we're facing... I fear even the highest-ranking members of the guilds would fall before it. We need more than just power. We need divine intervention.
Arceus above, please grant us your blessing. We're going to need it.
Guildmaster's Log #15:
It's healing.
I hate it. But we now have confirmation that the mountain is straight up healing itself.
One of the Excadrill squad members couldn't take it anymore. He knew something was off about this place—about the cave. We had all heard the reports: stones chipped off one day, seemingly back in place the next, as if the mountain were swallowing up the damage we'd done. The walls even felt like they were closing in on them, constricting, as though the mountain itself was alive. So yesterday, after the squad called it a day, he decided to test it. He placed a red scarf on the rock wall, draping it over a jagged protrusion—something unmistakable.
This morning, they didn't find the scarf until they started digging again.
It was embedded inside the rock. Like it had been absorbed.
The panic that followed was immediate. The Excadrill were in disarray, freaking out at the sight, shouting to one another, convinced they were hallucinating or under some curse. It took their leader's booming voice to rein them in, but even then, you could see the fear in their eyes. This wasn't just an anomaly—it was something none of us could explain. The mountain wasn't just resisting us—it was fighting back. Rebuilding itself, regenerating like a living creature.
Even the most stoic of my guild members have been unnerved by the revelation. We've all had doubts about this expedition, but this? This goes beyond unexplained. This is unnatural. And while a few still remain dedicated to uncovering the mystery, I see the cracks in their resolve. We are all questioning now: What the Girantina have we unearthed?
The Legendaries can't get here soon enough. We need their strength, their wisdom—something far beyond our power. I've sent out urgent messages to every guild I can, but they've been slow to respond. As much as we pride ourselves on our abilities, I know when we're outmatched. And this is beyond us. It feels like we've awakened something—something ancient, something foul. I don't know what it is yet, but it's not just a dungeon we're dealing with anymore.
Arceus, if you are hearing me, I beg of you—strike down your judgment upon this mountain. Cleanse it of whatever demon or curse festers within it. For the safety of everyone here, we need your divine intervention.
Guildmaster's Log 16:
Praise Arceus. Some of the Legendaries have heard our prayers.
This morning, a handful of them made touchdown at the camp. While many are still preoccupied with the greater threats of the world, a few have managed to break away to aid in our case. Mewtwo, the Lati twins, and the envoys of Arceus—Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf—have graced us with their presence. Their arrival has brought a palpable sense of relief. The Excadrill, once jittery and on edge, seem steadier now, and even my own guild members have been comforted by their presence.
But I'm not so sure.
I should be ecstatic, I know. These Legendaries—beings of myth and awe—are here to help us. Yet something lingers in the air, something that still feels deeply… wrong.
I suppose I should give an update on the cave—or whatever it is. It no longer feels right to call it a cave after what we've discovered. No one wants to head back inside now that we know it's healing itself. Yet, we also know we cannot stop. Months of hard work—lives, even—are tied to this operation. If we abandon it now, all will have been in vain. And the longer we wait, the more I feel this mountain will continue to devour itself, growing stronger, sealing its secrets tighter.
So we've reached a compromise. We've begun fortifying the entrance like it's a mine shaft, using thick wooden boards and entire tree logs to hold the walls at bay. For now, it seems to be working. But every time the wood groans or creaks, a shiver runs down my spine.
Mewtwo, ever the picture of calm arrogance, assures us there's nothing to worry about. "Whatever lurks inside," he said, "will be no match for me." I want to believe him. His psychic power is unmatched by most of the world's beings. And yet, I can't shake the feeling that this is something beyond even him. Something not of this world.
Nevertheless, their arrival has given us the time we so desperately needed to breathe. They've begun forming a plan of attack, one that involves drilling deeper into the mountain tomorrow. For once since this whole nightmare began, I might actually get some rest tonight.
Still... I find myself staring at the cave from my tent, watching as the moonlight hits its unnatural, jagged opening. The air around it seems to shimmer, as if the mountain itself knows we're coming. And it's waiting.
Guildmaster's Log 17:
This morning, Mewtwo entered the cave by himself to inspect what we've accomplished so far. He insisted the Excadrill stay back, just in case he needed to fight.
The sun is currently setting now, and he hasn't returned.
We've sent an expedition into the cave. But nothing seems amiss. It's a fairly straightforward path, ending right where the Excadrill stopped digging before the Legendaries arrived. No hidden passageways, no strange distortions, no signs of struggle. It's like he just vanished into thin air.
The remaining Legendaries aren't concerned—at least not outwardly. Latias is convinced Mewtwo is simply playing a prank, perhaps trying to lighten the mood. After all, he can teleport. He could be anywhere.
But a prank? Now? After everything we've been through? It feels off. Tasteless, even for Mewtwo. He has an ego, sure, but this… this isn't his style. Especially not with the seriousness of our situation.
The others' nonchalance has left me uneasy. Latias laughs it off, Mesprit gives a gentle shrug, and Uxie remains as unreadable as ever. But in their motions, there's no real concern. As if Mewtwo, this force of nature, is invincible. Perhaps they're right. Perhaps he's toying with us, playing a joke to break the tension.
But deep down, I can't shake the feeling that something happened.
It's strange—the cave hasn't changed, and yet, it feels different. The air is heavier, denser, like it's pushing back at us. It reminds me of the first night we set up camp here, when I stood outside where the cave would be dug, feeling the weight of something watching us. It feels as though we're being... toyed with. Not by Mewtwo, but by something older, something darker.
The others can laugh off the notion of a joke, but I can't help but wonder if the mountain is doing something. First, healing itself. Now, making Pokémon vanish?
The remaining Legendaries insist we should wait. "Mewtwo will return in his own time," Azelf reassured me. But as the night closes in, I can't shake the pit growing in my stomach.
I just hope they're right. Because if something happened to Mewtwo in there... Arceus help us all.
Guildmaster's Log #18:
We have the Riolu's mother restrained right now. Arceus, the fur on the back of my neck is still sticking straight up even thinking about it.
The night of Mewtwo's disappearance, I had another nightmare. This time, it was about him.
It started as it always does. Me, disembodied, helpless, watching the scene unfold. Mewtwo ventured into the cave, his movements calculated and cautious as he surveyed our handiwork.
But when he reached the point where the wooden walls should have marked the end of the excavation, there was something more—something we hadn't dug. A passageway, narrow and unnatural, that seemed to beckon him further.
Mewtwo paused, unsure. He huffed, dismissing it as something we had failed to mention in our panic, and continued on. And, unwillingly, I followed.
As he pressed on, the tunnel grew darker. Much darker. The light from the aura sphere he conjured, which had always burned steady, now flickered, struggling against the void. The walls, unnervingly smooth, began to close in, tighter with each step. His confident stride faltered, just for a second—a brief hesitation, quickly masked.
Then, something flickered at the edge of the darkness. The faint outline of a figure.
A Vulpix.
Her.
I knew it was her the moment I saw her. Mewtwo did too. He called out, his voice echoing off the stone, but she darted further into the tunnel. And he gave chase.
The passage constricted as they went, the walls absorbing the light from his aura sphere as though the darkness itself was feeding off it. The once open tunnel became a claustrophobic crawlspace, forcing Mewtwo to drop onto all fours.
He crawled, forcing himself forward, but the walls kept closing in. His breathing grew shallow. So did mine. I wanted to scream, to beg him to turn back—but it was too late.
Soon, Mewtwo was on his stomach, an arm pinned at his side, his legs unable to move. His aura sphere flickered, and then, with a soft hiss, it extinguished.
He was trapped.
He let out a frustrated grunt, eyes glowing bright as he tried to teleport—but nothing happened. No flash, no shift in space, nothing. His expression twisted from irritation to confusion. He tried again, and again, energy crackling at the edges of his eyes. But still, nothing.
That's when I saw it—the fear. Genuine fear. His eyes widened as he fought, wriggling and squirming, his free paw clawing at the stone, his once-calm demeanor unraveling into raw panic. The cave was tightening. Squeezing. Crushing.
The stone around him seemed to move like a living thing, pressing harder with each labored breath. His legs could barely twitch. His arm, still stretched forward, was slowly being swallowed by the rock. His free paw, pinned to his side, began to tremble.
He tried to scream, but the cave was choking him. The sound barely escaped his throat as his body was swallowed by the mountain. I heard the snap of bones, saw his chest heave with desperate, gasping breaths. His eyes glowed one last time, full of anguish, before they flickered and went dark.
I woke, coughing, gasping for air like I had been the one suffocating. My fur was drenched in sweat, clinging to my skin as I tried to get a hold of myself. But when I opened my eyes, my nightmare hadn't ended.
The Riolu's mother was standing over me, her face inches from mine. Her vacant, white eyes bore into me.
I screamed. A scream that damn near woke the whole camp. She bolted from the tent, wild and erratic, her movements nothing like the dazed woman we had been caring for.
By the time I staggered out of my tent, the camp was in chaos. The Latis had subdued her by the entrance to the cave, but she wasn't the same. She snarled and snapped like a feral Pokémon, her teeth bared, her body trembling with rage. She tried to charge the cave, over and over, until they finally restrained her.
Even now, hours later, my heart hasn't stopped racing. It's not just the nightmare or her feral state that haunts me. No, what truly terrifies me is that she shouldn't have been here at all.
She had left the continent almost a month ago.
Guildmaster's Log #19:
I haven't yet fully recovered. My hand still trembles as I write this. I informed the Legendaries about the dreams I've been having. The horrid recounting of what has been happening to those who venture into the cave. How the Riolu's mother shouldn't be here—how she had been escorted off the continent a month ago.
They looked at me with concern. I could tell they thought the stress was getting to me, and I'll fully admit that it was. But they could not deny the fact that Mewtwo has yet to return, that this is simply not a prank. That something had happened. That my dreams hinted at his fate.
But why me? Why was it I who has been cursed with these visions? Was it because I led the charge into this beast? That this was its twisted way of getting back at me for disturbing it, for harming it? Was the mountain alive—aware—and was it punishing us?
The Latis have ventured into the cave in search of Mewtwo. I begged them—pleaded with them—not to go. Latios, ever the braver of the two, insisted on moving forward, but I saw the hesitation in his eyes. Latias lingered behind him, stealing one last glance at us before they vanished into the darkness. They knew. They had to know the danger that awaited them.
They ordered us to stay behind, to remain outside the cave while they searched. I knew what that really meant.
They didn't expect to return.
Hours passed. Time stretched on like a noose tightening around my neck. We watched the entrance, unable to move, speak, or breathe.
Then, around half past noon, I saw her. Latias came bursting out of the cave, her body a blur of panic. She was sobbing, flying erratically, her usual grace shattered into fragments.
Blubbering. Inconsolable.
Latios is still nowhere to be found.
But I knew. And Latias knew.
We didn't need to hear the words. His fate was sealed the moment they stepped inside. The mountain had swallowed him whole, just as it had Mewtwo.
Now, as I write this, I can hear her weeping even now. The envoys of Arceus are trying to comfort her, but there is no solace to be found. Not for her. Not for any of us.
The darkness from the cave is seeping into our camp, infecting everything. I feel its weight in the air, like a pressure I can't escape.
I do not wish to dream again. I do not want to see Latios' last moments—his final breath crushed beneath the weight of that cursed mountain.
As tired as I am, I'm not going to sleep. Not until exhaustion finally takes me. But even then, I know it's only a matter of time before the dreams return.
Because it's watching. It's always watching.
And it knows I'm next.
Guildmaster's Log #20:
I've been awake for several days now. I am so very tired.
It took some time, but Latias is finally recounting what happened while she and Latios were in the cave—how she had only just managed to escape with her life, thanks to the love and sacrifice of her brother.
But I did not listen. I did not want to listen. I already knew what had likely happened. I had seen it in my nightmares, felt it suffocating me in the dark. I couldn't bear to hear the details spoken aloud, to have that final confirmation of the horror we'd unleashed.
The envoys of Arceus have given the order: we are leaving today. The entrance to the cave is being sealed, boarded up as if that could contain whatever foul force resides within. Good riddance, I say. I hope Arceus reduces the entire mountain to a smoldering crater, wipes it from existence so that no one ever has to see that cursed place again.
We're packing up now, the sounds of tents being taken down and supplies hastily gathered filling the air. I'm too exhausted to help. My hands tremble, my legs feel like they could give out at any moment, and I haven't had a proper meal in days.
I'm sorry, BlazingAura. Forgive your foolish Guildmaster. I led us into this nightmare, chasing a curiosity that should have been left buried. This will be my last log as the Guildmaster of Mistridge Village. I don't want to be part of a profession that can uncover horrors like this—horrors that take lives, that warp the very fabric of reality, that leave nothing but fear in their wake.
When I return to town, I'll be resigning. The guild needs someone stronger, someone who won't lead them into the mouth of a beast.
I can only hope that once I'm far away from this place, far away from the mountain and its malevolent presence, the nightmares will finally end. That I'll be able to close my eyes without seeing the twisted fate of those who ventured too far.
But deep down, I know the truth. The nightmares won't stop. They'll follow me, just as they followed the others. The mountain won't let me go, no matter how far I run.
I fear I'll never be free of it.
This is the end of the Guildmaster's journal. However, it is not the last thing written inside. Several pages have been defaced by hastily scribbled words and sentences. Most of it is undecipherable, letters scrawled over one another in frantic black ink, as if written in a panic or by an unsteady hand. Among the chaos, we can make out at least one sentence that is repeated over and over, etched so deeply into the paper that the ink bleeds through to the other side.
'It won't end.'
Toward the back of the journal, a single note is written in shaky handwriting, the words trembling on the page like a final, desperate confession.
'I'm sorry.'
The Guildmaster's journal was found outside the entrance to the cave. The boards that had been placed to seal it shut were smashed to splinters, as if something—or someone—had forcefully broken through them. The Guildmaster's location is currently unknown, and no traces of him have been found since.
Shortly after the journal's retrieval, a massive pillar of light descended upon the mountain, reducing it to rubble in an instant. The official explanation points to a freak astronomical phenomenon—a meteor impact—but few believe that. Whispers circulate among the guilds, claiming it was Arceus' judgment, divine wrath rained down upon a place that had become too dangerous for mortal hands to touch.
It has been a full year since that day. The incident, which claimed multiple lives and left so many questions unanswered, has left a scar on the guilds. The location where it all unfolded has since been christened The Lost Soul Dungeon in honor of those who vanished within its depths, never to return.
The official reports say that Mewtwo and Latias have resumed their duties, though few have claimed to have seen them since, and the verification came from the envoys themselves. As for the Guildmaster, it is assumed by most that he resigned in shame, leaving to live as a hermit in some distant land, far from the guilds and the memories of the mountain.
Team BlazingAura, a once promising up and coming explorer team, has been legally declared dead.
The mother of the Riolu remains missing. Her last known location was the jail located in Lively Town. She vanished a month after being placed there.
A month ago, a powerful earthquake rocked the Grass Continent, devastating Treasure Town and leaving it in ruins. Only now is the town beginning to recover. However, the earthquake did more than just damage the surface. Deep beneath the continent, the shifting tectonic plates have revealed the entrance to a new Mystery Dungeon.
Reports from nearby explorers tell of strange sightings at the dungeon's entrance. Figures in the shadows, watching from a distance. Those of a Riolu, and… a Vulpix.
But no one knows for certain what lies within. And no one has been brave enough to enter…
… yet.
