23rd Rebirth Moon, 908 – Last Autumn Hideout

Nearly a week since his deal with Plouton, Cain was on the verge of completing his experiment. True to his word, Plouton willingly subjected himself to whatever tests and drugs the mad doctor had at his disposal. Plouton was barely conscious throughout the week, going in and out from the pain alone, yet stayed strong by the excitement of what would unfold from the results.

Cain finished injecting a serum into the Skuntank, who sat idly on the operation table draped in a heavy cloak. His fur had turned darker over the week, and what little of his eyes that could be seen were visibly bloodshot. His breathing was ragged, and he had a convulsive urge to scratch himself. His skin felt like it was on fire. It was almost unbearable. It would've driven any other man to madness.

But not Plouton. All he could do was grin.

"S-So…how are we looking, Doc?"

Cain took a step back to admire his handiwork. He grinned as well. "You're still alive. I'm impressed. I thought for sure you would've imploded by now. Seems I've worked out the kinks."

Plouton slid off the table, clumsily stumbling about. "Uuugh. I do feel kind of queasy." He shook his head. "What exactly did you do to me?"

"Heh. Well, those are my secrets for the time being. I just need to see what would happen if they were done forcefully."

"Pardon?"

Cain sighed. "It's a phenomenon called Symbiotic Reincarnation. Or at least that's the translation I got from what remains of my ancestor's notes."

Plouton viciously scratched his neck. "And what is this Symbiotic Reincarnation?"

"…" Cain smirked. "Well, it's a bit difficult to explain, but it's a little secret that's been lost to time with Logos. You could say you're undergoing a metamorphosis of sorts."

"Hmm."

"The catch is, the true method is a bit more…cooperative. So, I wanted to see what would happen if it was performed through science. Through dark alchemy. Results were dicey, but you are my first living patient that survived the procedure. I'd offer you a medal, but you proudly displaying my handiwork is worth more than a chunk of metal on a necklace."

Plouton groaned, scratching at his stomach and using his hindleg to scratch his side. "Are you sure about that whole not imploding thing?"

"Well, fifty-fifty. Too late to go back on it now. This process cannot be undone once it has been implemented."

Plouton found relief for the moment and sat himself back on the operating table. "The secrets locked away in that mind of yours fascinate me. I do not feel too different beyond the procedure itself, yet I feel stronger somehow."

Cain laughed softly. "Are you familiar with an old legend regarding Virdis? Back before it was discovered by the arbiters?"

"What legend?"

"There existed rumors of an immortal who roamed these lands among the savages. Now, this wouldn't be a topic for concern considering strong-willed Ghost-Types can live for tremendous stretches of time. Some dragons, too. However, by all accounts, it was neither. Peculiar phenomenon. And even regarding those examples, nothing lives forever. It's fascinating, really, to think we're scratching the threshold of history, yet we're so far from uncovering the untold secrets of this world. I'd say Logos is the key to understanding everything."

Plouton glared. "And the legend of this immortal…?"

"Can't confirm. Though, I have seen my fair share of contenders. For example, I happen to know a fellow who is over…say, two hundred and fifty-years-old."

"Impossible. Even most Ghost-Types can't live that long."

"Will is a strong motivator, though you are correct. But his life has been extended through…divine means, we'll say for now. My point is that the secrets to immortality are locked behind either genetics or secrets waiting to be discovered." Cain chuckled. "Imagine that. The possibilities of immortality. Ever had feelings like that, Plouton?"

"…" The skunk scoffed, then laughed. "Have you seen the crap I've done to my body? All I care about is breaking the foundations of science, even if it means I die in the process. As long as my research leaves a mark for the future."

Cain smirked. "Spoken like a true innovator. That's why I like you, Plouton. You understand the joy of discovering something yet to be researched or explored. Even if through unethical means, all pales in the pursuit of understanding. But I wish to herald the age of innovation throughout time. If I can crack the secrets of immortality, I will become a visionary across time and space. To dare be cursed not to inherit my ancestor's knowledge, I defy my fate to become something greater. The Fauchers understand this. The MacGyvers understand this. The arbiters created the Virdis we know now, dragging it out from that savage time that had been lost to the current age of the world. We're just finishing the puzzle that had been left to the next generation, but I wish to complete it, even if it takes a thousand more years."

Plouton smirked. "You're starting to sound like Vlad."

"Vlad wouldn't be able to hold a candle to my brilliance, but he's good enough company to hold a conversation."

Plouton scratched his neck again. "So, this procedure should make me immortal?"

"That awaits to be seen, at least. We won't know until you've died once." Cain smirked. "But that shouldn't be too hard for you. I noticed what you did to your Aftermath ability."

Plouton smirked. "Fighting is so risky nowadays with how volatile my ability has become."

"But if you trust my work, that's a worthwhile risk, correct?"

"All that leaves is for me to test it on someone. Anyone you have in mind?"

"…" Cain scratched his chin. "The Foresters would be a good pick. They've been a nuisance recently." He glared for a moment. "…Though, if things go awry, I may need you to change your profession to an assassin."

"Have someone in mind?"

"You remember Babylas, correct?"

"The shifty Banette from the Deadly Seven?"

Cain crossed his arms. "Per our agreement, Evelot Faucher is to be brought into Last Autumn as my newest assistant in exchange for her safety." He grimaced. "I can't deny the fact I'm the one being held hostage in this agreement. Something always struck me as odd about Babylas. He was there when the Fauchers were killed, and he joined the Deadly Seven months after. He couldn't have been ignorant of their connection with us. On top of that, his skill isn't to be underestimated."

Plouton glared. "What would you have me do?"

"…Arethusa will be expecting a teleporter to retrieve her and Faucher. I want you to go along. If anything goes awry, take out anyone who interferes with our plans. Especially Babylas."

Meanwhile, in the plains of the Outlands…

With little in the way of time, the remains of the Broken Glass Alchemical Company hurried through the desolate landscape in search of their missing friend. With only a single lead to work off of, and what amounted to a half-baked plan of rescue, they set forth in the remains of their carriage with Magni restlessly racing towards Knife's Edge.

Phoebe poked her head out of the gaping hole in the carriage's side, looking upon the Scolipede in concern. "Mags, you've been running for nearly two days. We should probably stop for a bit."

Magni, though visibly tired based off his bloodshot eyes, shook his head. "Keep running. Save Evelot. I not stop."

She frowned. "Mags, you won't be in any condition to fight if you don't at least get some sleep. That would do Evelot better, right?"

"…" Magni focused on the road ahead. "Sleep…when we close."

She sighed. "Good enough. Don't push yourself too much, please." She ducked back inside the carriage, carefully walking over to the dining table where her rifle rested. She sat down and returned to fiddling with her supply of bullets. "We can't afford to charge in recklessly."

"We weren't prepared last time." She glanced over at Amos as he polished his mechanical pincer. He glared solemnly. "Next time we see him, he's as good as dead."

"…" Phoebe leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Do you believe that?"

"We have a plan, right?"

"A plan that requires us to get a bullet off. A bullet. One. One bullet. And even then, that's barely going to affect him." She massaged her eye, wiping away the sleep. "I shouldn't have thought we had a chance."

Amos glared. "Give yourself more credit. I don't know anyone more chaotic than you."

"Heh. Appreciated, but hardly worth shit." She grimaced. "No, Babylas is good. Really good. You saw that yourself. I'll be honest. I don't like our chances, and we won't be able to pull your healing bullet trick off a second time."

Amos placed his cleaning rag down and glanced at the Aipom. "Why does Babylas want to protect Evelot so badly? What does he get out of this?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? He's always been a mercenary at heart. Does everything by the rules of the contract and shit. He's not getting paid for this." She frowned. "Then again, he could just be pissed with the raid in general. What he said before…"

"…" Amos closed his eyes. "Phoebe, the things he said about what he was doing these last few years? Does that mean…?"

"…" She sighed. "Yeah. It was her. That woman."

"Spring-Loaded Harriet."

She nodded. "I was outside when the raid happened, but…remember how I said I was only outside?"

"Yeah?"

"That's not entirely true. I didn't want Evelot asking me anything, so I said I witnessed everything from outside. I went to get some fresh air that night, thinking about life and whatever, when I saw what was going on. I was afraid to check it out, but…well, Evelot's my friend, right? So, I did end up going inside."

"And…"

"I saw Babylas getting the shit kicked out of him. Heh. That guy. He absolutely trounced us. He would've trounced us back then, too. That guy…didn't stand a chance against Harriet. He couldn't do anything to her. It was like his weapons couldn't touch her. And the way she moved, it was…graceful, yet terrifying. None of her disciples held a candle to her skill. They moved with great speed. She flowed like the wind."

Amos sat up. "Did you confront her?"

"Heh. Didn't really have a choice seeing as she had her sights on me. I would've been killed had I not looked so pathetic in the moment." She clenched her teeth. "Her eyes. There have only been two people in the world who terrified me with their eyes alone. My father, eyes filled with carnal desire and malice. Harriet? Like staring into the abyss. Emotionless, yet cruel. Dark, yet radiant with power. Graceful, yet wicked."

Amos glared. "Spring-Loaded Harriet. She's been around for a long time."

"Her influence across Virdis cannot be undersold. You think your boss had connections to the criminal underworld? That woman…may as well be the progenitor of today's criminal underworld."

Amos leaned back on his bed, arms crossed. "And you're worried Evelot will hunt her down?"

"…" Phoebe clenched her teeth. "You didn't see what I saw. Evelot tore down the entire hideout singlehandedly. Babylas threw me out of the hideout before everything came tumbling down, but I saw it. I saw Evelot destroying everything. And now I find out she has this Inherited Will crap! If she figures out how to access that power, she will go after Harriet." She sighed. "Evelot tries to act sweet and kind, but I know there's a darkness festering inside her. And being out in the Outlands has made it worse. Seeing so much disgusting behavior and repulsive acts against pokemanity—"

"It's wearing on her spirit," Amos guessed.

"…I know for a fact that if she finds out who killed her family, she will break. That day traumatized her, and living out here has not helped make the pain go away." She looked aside, her face filled with sorrow. "She wants to believe there's good in the world because she wants to deny that hatred inside her."

"…Is that why she saved me?"

"Heh. To prove to herself she was still a good person at heart? Maybe." She smiled bitterly. "But no, Evelot's not that shallow. Truth is, I think she wanted to prove kindness was superior. She was always stubborn, believing the Outlands could change. That goodness will prevail."

Amos sighed. "So childish."

"Yeah…"

"Do you believe her?"

"Not one bit." She shook her head, frowning at the floor. "Though, to say the idea isn't tempting…"

"…" Amos glared at the ceiling. "She really believes someone as blackhearted as me could do good?"

"Heh. She's not wrong. You're the one spearheading this rescue mission, right?"

"…" He sighed. "It's childish, but…a world like that is preferable."

"Agreed."

"What do we do after we find Evelot?"

"Heh, who knows? We either beg Babylas to reconsider his escape Virdis offer, or we live the rest of our lives on the run until someone mans up and topples Last Autumn."

Amos smiled bitterly. "Ah. So, we're screwed."

"Most definitely."

He stretched his arms and sighed. "Well, I lived a good life. Better than rotting in prison."

Phoebe chuckled softly before shooting the Gligar a stern glare. "Amos."

"…"

"We will rescue her. We will."

"…" He sighed, glaring down at his mechanical pincer. He stared into the reflection of the withered Gligar glaring back at him. A face that belonged to a heartless, good-for-nothing mercenary who sold his soul for revenge. The nightmare that clung to his soulless body felt like a distant memory.

His drive to find his old team, and the charity imparted onto him by Evelot…

When was the last time he allowed himself to accept love into his heart?

All the self-hating and misery he kept close…

For once in his life, maybe he was allowed to be happy.

"Yeah. Yeah, we will. No matter what."

Faucher Hideout, Knife's Edge

Slipping through the shadows, Babylas traveled down to the lower floors of the hideout and made his way to Evelot's room. Arethusa was to take her back to Last Autumn in the next couple of days, and Babylas had hoped the time would give Evelot room to adjust to the events that transpired.

For the most part, she seemed to be mellowing out, though he couldn't help noticing just how distant she had been acting. She was eating fine, but hardly had the energy to talk to him. She gave nothing more than one or two-worded answers. He couldn't get a good read on her as she would bunker herself deep within her costume.

It pained him to see her like this, but what's done is done.

He arrived at her doorframe and knocked twice before letting himself in. "Kitten? You awake?" He peered ahead at the bed, spotting the lump hiding under the blankets. "Evelot?" He sighed and scratched behind his head as he approached her bedside. "You feeling alright?"

No response came.

"Hmm. Well, hey, I think you've been cooped up down here for too long. I know I said it'd be best to lay low for a little while, but some fresh air would do you some good. I'm sure your friends would've wanted you to face the sun with hope in your heart, right?"

When he continued to get no replies, he raised his brow and reached for the sheets. Tossing them off, he didn't find the Mimikyu buried underneath, only a stack of tattered pillows.

"What the—"

"RAAAAAH!"

Babylas spun around and effortlessly caught his attacker, disarming them of the broken flask they were wielding. However, to his surprise, it was Evelot who tried to attack him.

"Evelot?!"

"GAAAH!" She flailed angrily in his grip. "MURDERER!" She extended her arms and swiped at him.

He tossed her over his shoulder, throwing her back onto the bed. "Whoa, Evelot! Calm down, it's just me—"

"RAAAH!" She pulled out a bear trap and tossed it at him.

He casually sidestepped it, letting it snap shut on the ground. "Evelot, seriously, what's gotten into—"

She faced him with hot tears pouring from her costume's eyeholes. "Drop the act, Babylas! I know about what really happened back in Dead Man's Field!"

"Huh…?"

"How could you?! I trusted you! You…You…big JERK!"

He backed away and held his hands up. "Eve. Take a deep breath. You're not thinking straight—"

"I heard everything you said to that Milotic upstairs! The one who's going to take me to Last Autumn, right?!"

Babylas' eye widened. "How did you…?"

She covered her right eye, shaking with fear and anger. "What…did you do to me?! Why can I see everything you're seeing?"

"…" Babylas hovered his hand over his eye patch. "Seeing everything I…" He sighed. "It must've happened when I brought you into my shadow. They're finally reacting to each other."

"Who's reacting to what?! Babylas, what did you do to me?!"

"…" He glared. "Saved your life."

"Huh?!"

He groaned. "Evelot, look, about what happened—"

"You killed them. Phoebe, Amos, Caractacus, Magni. You killed all of them, then you lied to me. You made me feel sorry for you!" she screamed, her voice cracking in her sobs. "I trusted you! I trusted you did everything to protect them, but you did it! You killed them! Why?!"

He sighed. "Evelot, you and your friends had no idea what you were getting yourselves into. I gave you one out to get away from this conspiracy nonsense, but just couldn't leave well enough alone. I'm doing what your parents hired me to do: keep you safe."

She scowled. "Is that what this is about? Ridiculous! Your contract expired the day my parents died! You only stayed because you needed something from me, right?!"

"…"

"You're just like those pepper brothers. They sought out my family because they needed the Book of Faucher. They wanted to understand the secrets of life and death, but I know how dangerous my family's research is. Is that what you were after? You wanted immortality?!"

"…" He sighed. "Yes. I answered their request for a bodyguard because I knew it would get me closer to learning the secrets of immortality. Sad as it is, even we Ghost-Types have our mortal limits. But Evelot, that wasn't the only—"

"That's the only reason I need." She turned her back to him and covered her eyes. "I can't…believe you. To manipulate me like this…"

He glared. "Evelot, none of you were ready to deal with Last Autumn."

She shot her head around and growled, "So, bringing me to them was your big plan?!"

"If you're not a threat to them, then yes. You're better to them alive than as an enemy. They need Rainbow, and you're the only creature in the world left who knows how to make it. The secrets in your head are the only thing keeping you alive." He scowled. "Of course, I'm also doing this because she won't hesitate to kill you."

"Again with her! I'm not a child! I can handle the truth!" she cried. "But no, everyone keeps acting like I'm a weak, defenseless child who needs someone to hold her hand."

"That's not why we're—"

"I'm sick of it! I'm sick of the Outlands! I try so hard to stay positive, but I'm surrounded by despair and anguish at every turn! Does nothing I stand for matter?! Am I just wasting my time believing in the good of this world?!"

"…" He sighed. "The world outside the Outlands is a lot more complicated than you think. You've never ventured that far, and some parts of it may be more volatile than the Outlands itself."

She scowled. "Well, I'll make that decision for myself." A portal of darkness opened up under her. "And you can't stop me!"

Babylas crossed his arms. "Evelot—"

"I'm done listening to you, Babylas! If you want to stop me from leaving, you'll have to do it by force!" She plunged into her portal, closing it behind her.

"…" Babylas sighed. Without uncrossing his arms, he raised a single finger.

A ripple came off the shadows across the wall, and Evelot was flung back into the bedroom. She crashed atop her bed, jolting up with a gasp. "W-What?!" She looked back at Babylas before jumping into another portal.

Babylas wagged his finger again, causing her to jettison from the shadows under her bed. She slid across the floor, hurriedly scrambled to her feet, and jumped into another portal. Once again, she fell out through another shadow, safely crashing across the floor.

"W-What's going on?!" she gasped.

"Endless Darkness."

Evelot paused, then looked back at the Banette in alarm. "W-What?"

Babylas pulled back his eye band, showing off the swirling vortex of light that was his eye. "I've had a lot of time to come to terms with this newfound power I was gifted. You never understood just what those two were capable of."

"…" Her eyes widened. "17 and 24."

"You wouldn't be alive if it weren't for them. Of course, they wanted to make sure you were safe, so they asked me to help. You and I possess a power granted by beings beyond our understanding, Evelot: an Inherited Will."

She blinked twice, then covered her right eye. "Y-You mean…?"

"Didn't Phoebe tell you that you were stuck in a coma for a few days? That's why. Your body was healing. When you destroyed the hideout, the right side of your body was crushed under the debris. Fortunately, the damage was minimized in your rampage, but you would've died had they not interfered."

"…" She clutched at the eyehole. "I…"

"As for why you can't escape, it's my Phantom Force. It's been empowered beyond its normal capabilities, allowing me to project my will onto the shadows itself. That also includes your shadows. I'm overriding your Phantom Force with my own. Seems you're finally reaching for that power dormant within you, but I've had years to perfect it. In darkness, I reign supreme."

Evelot trembled, clawing at her costume. "B-Babylas…"

"I'm sorry, Evelot, but this really is for your own good. I just need to keep you safe until the end of the month, but we will be going Last Autumn soon. You can try and escape all you want, but I'm still honoring my contract with your parents. You're not going anywhere."

"…" She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and growled at him. "I hate you."

He sighed and stepped back. "I promise not to peer through your right eye for the remainder of our stay. I'll give you some privacy."

"Don't you dare leave! We're not done yet!" She lunged across the room, but it was too late. Babylas sunk into the shadows, and she crashed into the wall. "Ow…"

She slid to the ground, cradling her aching face, and scowled at the shadow. In frustration, she roared and slashed at the wall. She didn't even question the darkness that coated her claws in the moment as she tore through the decrepit wall in a single strike. Dust scattered into the hallway over, crumbs of debris raining over her head.

She took a breath, picked herself up, and shuffled back to her bed. She sat down and sighed, wiping the wetness from her eyes.

"I never asked for any of this…" she mumbled.

She glanced at the nightstand by her bedside, something she hadn't bothered to scour through during her stay. Curious and frustrated by the silence, she opened the drawer and dug through what remnants of her childhood remained.

Memories came back from the myriads of random trinkets and tools she kept in her bedroom during her days as an apprentice alchemist. She collected a variety of ingredients that intrigued her, wondering of their components that made up the vast ocean of potions her family crafted. Alchemists will use anything in the name of science, especially the charitably acquired materials of Pokémon. Fur, claws, scales, blood, and more. So long as it wasn't anything that would be missed or vital to life, nothing was beyond alchemy's reach.

Evelot dug deeper into her drawer before grasping something familiar. It was a rough, curved item with a pointed tip. Pulling out into the low light, she saw it was a sharpened fang as white as fresh snow. Even after the years lost beneath the drawer of junk in the ashes of her former home, she recalled its luster in awe.

It was one of the first of her trinkets as she came of age to study alchemy. Though sharp and capable of tearing flesh, it felt smooth and cool to the touch. She twirled it between her fingers, remembering the joy she felt when she first took hold of the little tooth. Though just a mere ingredient, she took great care to maintain its sheen and shine. It was a token of her passion with her work.

Such simpler times, those were.

She sighed. "I wish I could go back to those times." She glared. "But no. It all had to be taken away. Why do I deserve to be tormented? Why am I being hunted for something I didn't do? Why did any of this have to happen?" She closed her eyes and shuddered. "Why…? Why can't the world just let me live peacefully—"

She paused, feeling a chill across the air. For a moment, she thought it was Babylas coming to bother her again. She just about nearly turned around to snap at the ghostly puppet, but something stopped her. Right as she turned her head, she felt a more…foreboding presence emanating from behind her. It was something crueler. Something laced with malice. Hatred, wickedness, and disdain that plagued the air.

And yet, she felt herself beckoned to the presence.

She dared to look behind herself. She was stunned at what stood before her.

An indistinguishable shade stood a foot away from her bed, staring at her with hazy red eyes. It had a rounded shape to its body, and she could tell it was some kind of bipedal creature with crazy hair that stood on end. Though she couldn't immediately place a face, the presence it gave off was familiar.

"You…" She narrowed her eyes. "You look like…are you Absalom?"

The shade said nothing, continuing to stare at her emotionlessly.

Evelot didn't feel intimidated by the shade. She had a plethora of questions as to why she was seeing what she was seeing. Was Absalom somewhere in the building? Was he nearby? Was this really him, or was she imagining it? If this was real, what was she seeing? How long was she down in the hideout to be experiencing vivid hallucinations?

All of that, and that wasn't the question that was spoken into existence.

"What…happens on the 31st of the Rebirth Moon?" she asked mechanically.

The shade's eyes narrowed. It lifted its hand and pointed toward the ceiling just above her bed. She followed its hand, but obviously couldn't see much beyond her stony prison.

"What are you trying to tell me?" she whispered. "Where is there?"

The shade said nothing. Its body collapsed into a mass of dark fog, disappearing along the floor. Evelot shuffled to the edge of her bed right as the fog dissipated. The image of the shade burned into her mind as she stared intensely in the direction it was pointing.

What stood beyond the walls of her former home?

A destiny yearning to be heeded?

24th Rebirth Moon, 908 – Middle of Nowhere, Outlands

Supplies were low. The air was frigid. His legs ached from the days of endless travel. His stomach growled for sustenance. His focus? Single-mindedly pointing forward.

Caractacus had lost all sense of time since his departure from the Broken Glass Alchemical Company. He dared not look back, wishing to separate himself from the troublesome imps that brought him closer to death. Though his destination was mostly unclear, as he wasn't sure of his safety returning to Copper Gorge, anywhere was better than dealing with Last Autumn.

Though, in his haste, he hadn't packed as sufficiently as he would've liked. He already downed a good chunk of his rations, and whatever remained wouldn't last him the next few hours. His best bet was trudging forward and hoping he stumbled upon one of the less problematic towns in the Outlands. A trading town would do him some good. Aside from cutthroats and thieves, there wasn't nearly as many violent miscreants to contend with.

The low chirps and hums of Alpha flowing alongside him stirred the Boltund from his dreary state. He glared at the cube. "Oh hush. I'm not crawling back to those suicidal idiots. If they want to get their heads blown off to play hero, that's fine by me."

Alpha responded with chirps and static.

"Can't rest. Need to keep moving." However, despite himself, his legs started to slow down. "Got…to get…somewhere…"

Weakness overtook the half-metal Boltund. His legs trembled, bringing him to pause as he caught his breath. Every breath felt like fire rushing through his throat. His stomach churned with a hunger so mighty that he felt he would vomit. The cold air sapped his strength, lulling him to a slumber in vain to conserve his energy.

"Not…yet…" he grunted. "Can't…stop…"

He lifted his gaze, hoping to see a town above the horizon. However, much to his dismay, he saw something else. A dark figure trekking through the snow-covered sand, hobbling along with a staff. Alone in the Outlands was a dangerous journey, but being alone with a stranger in the Outlands was a bad omen. The figure seemed to be approaching Caractacus with intent.

He gritted his teeth. "Malchance…" His strength gave out, and he plopped face first onto the sand. Ugh. Either I'm…getting my organs harvested…or this guy knows who I am. Either way…screw this.

Alpha hovered attentively by the fallen Boltund, but made no motion to act against the stranger as they stopped before the fallen hound. They stared down at Caractacus' unconscious form before glancing at Alpha. Wordlessly, the figure placed their hand upon the cube and gently patted it.

A silent conversation was held between the two. Without hesitance, the figure picked Caractacus up and set them upon Alpha like a mobile stretcher. They pointed their staff into the distance before walking back the way they came. Alpha followed behind.

"How curious," the stranger mumbled. "So, it seems the young Growlithe wasn't the only MacGyver left. Well then…"

The figure pulled back his hood, letting the afternoon sun wash across his rough hide. The aged Nidoking chuckled softly to himself.

"Fate has a curious way of pulling our strings."