15th Rebirth Moon, 908 – Last Autumn Hideout, The Outlands

Within the underground of the abandoned castle, far from the prying eyes of its occupants, a laboratory sat hissing and bubbling with a myriad of concoctions that scattered fumes into the air. A toxic gathering of alchemy that would draw those who inhaled its atmosphere to a swift slumber.

The lab resembled an amphitheater complete with shelves lining the circular room, several workstations each with an alchemy set on top, and a bloodied operation table with a neat tray of tools covered and preserved for later. The lab carried a heinous stench of dried blood and chemical fumes that would make most gag from brief exposure. The walls were made of dreary gray brick with sealed lanterns lighting up the room, their flames protected from the fumes by glass coverings.

Hovering over one of his workstations, Cain Underhill busied himself with an experiment, combining potions together and taking notes on the reactions. His Vivillon assistant, Bridget, hovered over him while keeping her mouth covered with a mask. Patience the Florges swept the floors quietly.

Bridget landed on Cain's head and looked over his work. "So, this is the latest batch of Wraith?"

Cain held the potion up to the light, giving it a gentle shake. "Not just the latest batch, but version four of it. The test data we gathered from our distributors is coming along flawlessly. I may have the final batch prepared by next year. However, this one will be given to Mr. Desierto when he arrives in a couple hours."

Patience looked up from her sweeping and shot the Hypno a blank glare. "You still have your appointment with Master Terrowin later."

Cain sighed. "Of course. I need to inject him with his medicine. Hopefully his body remains stable with the new formula I concocted."

Bridget frowned. "What do you mean stable?"

"Oh, don't concern yourself over that. If nothing happens, nothing happens." Cain picked up one of the vials of Wraith, along with its activation agent. "As for these, however, we're entrusting them to Darby Tetrarch to…ensure certain matters are dealt with." He pocketed the vials in his breast pocket, then stretched his arms. "Patience, will you collect Master Terrowin and perform his physical? I'll start prepping the lab for his transfusion."

Patience set her broom aside and bowed. "By your command, Dr. Underhill." She hopped toward the lab's exit. When she opened the door, she stepped aside and bowed as a Milotic and Skuntank made their way through before letting herself out.

Sensing the new arrival, Cain extinguished his burners and wiped his hands. "Arethusa, Plouton. To what do I owe the visit? I'll be attending to Master Terrowin's appointment soon."

Arethusa grinned. "We thought you'd be happy to hear an update from your mercenaries."

He smirked. "The Deadly Seven. Finally. Do they bring good news?"

Plouton rolled his eyes before pulling the letter out of his cloak. "I wouldn't call it happy, but it is good news. It's from Babylas."

Cain snatched the note and paced around his workstation, reading the letter to himself. Bridget tried to balance atop his head to get a better look, but ended up slipping off and faceplanting onto the table. By the time she picked herself up, Cain completed his lap around and set the note aside.

"How tragic. Seems only he, Helmut, and Absalom are still alive. I have to admit, Lancaster's a lot harder to put down than I anticipated. I expected even that fool, Ulrich, to kill him. Guess I had too much faith in him."

Arethusa glared. "Does that mean we should go hunting them down instead?"

"Not necessarily, though assistance is needed. Babylas wasn't just reporting in their deaths." He grinned. "He requested a rendezvous at Knife's Edge for the transfer of Evelot Faucher."

Plouton raised his brow. "Does that mean he already captured her?"

"From the sound of his note, no, but he speaks as if he will capture her." He snickered. "Knowing Babylas, I don't doubt that. He probably left the other four to do all the dirty work to break them. What a cruel, cruel mercenary. Seems we'll finally get our hands on Ms. Faucher's secrets."

Arethusa smirked. "Ooooh~! Would you do me the honors of allowing me to intercept the transfer? If by some chance those fools follow Babylas to Knife's Edge, I would love the chance to see the misery on their faces when I snuff their lives out."

Cain chuckled. "Well, how can I deny such enthusiasm? I grant you permission to oversee Ms. Faucher's transfer."

"Oh, I am most grateful." She bowed her head. "I'm going to enjoy this for every drop of misery they can provide."

"Best to get a move on while you still can."

"Of course. Thank you, Dr. Cain. I will have her in my custody in due time." She slithered out of the laboratory.

Bridget fluttered onto Cain's head and frowned. "Hopefully everything goes well. Our supply of Rainbow is running a wee bit thin."

Cain laughed. "Indeed, though…I'm more interested in her other talents. The Fauchers are remarkable alchemists, and having her by our side would prove a magnificent boon."

Plouton glared curiously. "How remarkable are these alchemists, doctor? Can't be worth that much of our efforts."

Cain smirked. "You're a man of science, Plouton. I'm not surprised you would ask. Though they aren't secrets everyone knows. Only a privileged few could fully understand the tantalizing secrets of the ancient world."

"Care to enlighten the mind of a fellow scientist?" he asked.

Cain threw his head back and laughed. "Well, I suppose I have a little time. Bridget, gather my materials and set up a chair for Master Terrowin. I will be gone a moment." He gestured Plouton along, leading him to the other side of the lab.

Bridget looked at her tiny hands frantically before shouting, "I-I don't think I can pick up a chair!"

"My dear, you are a remarkable young lady brimming with talent. Surely, you can move a chair into the middle of the lab." Cain pressed his hand against a false stone, causing it to sink in and split the wall open, revealing a hidden entrance. He moved Plouton through and pulled a lever, causing the secret entrance to close behind them.

"…" Bridget looked around, finding no chairs within the laboratory itself. She sighed and fluttered toward the main exit. "Granny, how did you put up with these people?"

Grabbing and lighting a torch off the wall, Cain led the way down the secret passage with Plouton trailing close behind. They descended a small flight of stone steps before reaching the end of the corridor. Cain dipped the torch into a basin in the wall, causing the flames to spread inward.

Upon entering the new room, torches came to life along the walls, revealing a smaller laboratory of similar shape. Plouton covered his eyes for a moment to adjust to the light while Cain extinguished the torch and threw it aside.

"There is a vast array of secrets in this world waiting to be uncovered, and only those worthy of uncovering the truth hold fragments of that knowledge. But some of us are born with that godlike knowledge."

After his eyes adjusted, Plouton peered ahead and took in the laboratory's setting. His eyes widened, finding rows of shelves along the circular walls. Each one held jars containing scraps of flesh, bone, organs, and a variety of organic material, each one stripped from a different species of Pokémon by his guess. One contained a severed piece of a Lickitung's tongue. Another held the tail of an Ampharos. One was even filled with a magma-like substance, likely harvested from the remains of a deceased Magcargo.

Cain smirked at Plouton's stunned expression. "Too amazed for words? I don't blame you. It's quite the impressive collection."

Plouton shook his head clear and approached the Hypno's side. "Have you been dabbling in alchemy? I've never seen parts like this applied into alchemy."

Cain crossed his arms. "Indeed. Normally, within alchemy, one can apply the legally acquired pieces of another Pokémon for their brews. Things like discarded fur, scales, tears, chips of metal, and all that. Things that come and go naturally, thus finding a renewed purpose in science. However, delving deeper into the sciences, you find some fascinating practices."

"Does this concern Evelot Faucher?"

"It concerns the Faucher's legacy." Cain glared. "The Fauchers are actually one of the original arbiters that came to Virdis a thousand years ago."

"Is that right?"

"The original eight arbiters were the ones who brought knowledge to Virdis, and many of their bloodlines have died off through the years. The only ones that remain are the MacGyvers, the Fauchers, and…the Underhills." Cain plucked a jar containing a heart off a shelf. "The remnants of our legacies."

Plouton glared. "So, it's true. You and your brother are the last of your bloodline."

"Orphaned children spending their early years mucking around in an Echo Bell orphanage. Even at that age, I knew I was destined for greater things. So naturally, I cobbled together a plan to fake our deaths and move out here. We were free to live as we choose. Of course, once we were found by Terrowin, the truth of our bloodline became apparent." Cain glared. "Well, most of us, at least."

"How so?"

"It is said that the arbiter bloodlines hold great knowledge that is passed along with each generation. We Underhills were skilled in biological sciences. However, it became apparent only one of us had any natural talent. Abel was born talented. Me? I had nothing. I had to learn everything through hard work and dedication. I spent every waking moment of my life learning the principles of the biological world while everything came naturally to him. My secret was going beyond ethics in my research, something he never appreciated."

Plouton glared. "I always thought you two had some kind of sibling rivalry going on."

Cain shrugged and placed the jarred heart back on the shelf. "All in the past. As for the MacGyvers, they were granted knowledge of mechanics and machinery. A talent that becomes exceedingly dangerous with each generation, but one most useful for Last Autumn." He crossed his arms behind his waist. "Now, tell me: what do you suppose the Fauchers held?"

"…A vast understanding of alchemy."

He smirked. "Correct, and that is where my obsession with alchemy comes in." He gestured to the wall of organic material. "As it turns out, my ancestors worked closely with the original Faucher regarding the details of alchemy and biology. That is how we've come to understand the nature between alchemy and Pokémon, using scraps of loose fur and whatnot to make potions. However, my ancestor once suggested the use of…a greater mass of material. Ethics weren't a concern for science at the time, so they naturally tested their theories into something long forgotten to this world: dark alchemy."

Plouton scratched his chin. "Dark alchemy? I've heard rumors of such practices, but I never assumed them to be true."

"They are, as of now, theoretical studies, but not fantastical." Cain grinned. "See, though Abel and I never knew our parents or why we ended up in that blasted orphanage, we had pieces of our legacy given to us. Among those inheritances was a journal detailing the accounts of the study. I've read them over many times, and they may be a reality of their own."

"And what exactly does dark alchemy do?"

"Are you familiar with the practices performed by the Arcania Kingdom?"

"Yes?"

Cain smirked. "What if those same practices granted you the ability to obtain more drastic changes?"

"Drastic?"

"Have you ever wanted to have eyes like a Luxray? To peer through solid matter? Or gills or natural oxygen filtering organs to breathe underwater like any Water-Type? What about the unstable genetics of an Eevee to grant you the power of the elements?"

Plouton smirked. "Such nonsense. This is theoretical?"

Cain shrugged. "Well, maybe not entirely. There are some cases where it's…possible, but not in the way I imagine. Are you familiar with the Takigawa Clan?"

"Naturally."

"The head of the clan, Takigawa Hidekage, has the most unusual genetics. A heightened form of accelerated evolution under extreme circumstances. He's the reason I've been able to conduct research on dark alchemy. After all, he always has some corpses to spare. Because I had so much valuable material to work with, it helped me understand the bonds between alchemy and Pokémon."

"So, does that mean the Takigawa Clan possesses a natural version of dark alchemy?"

"Technically, yes, but it's entirely based on genetics and environment. It's something they can only achieve during the development process as an egg. What I'm looking into is advanced surgery to alter the body. Actually, Terrowin has been a wonderful test subject seeing as his body is rapidly becoming unstable. I might be on a breakthrough with him, assuming the mutations don't get worse."

"So, from what I understand, you're trying to alter the body in a perfect creature?"

"Exactly."

"So, where does Faucher fit into all of this?"

Cain glared. "My ancestor was merely an assistant to the project. The Fauchers, if anything, possesses the key to understanding the body. If I can get my hands on their family records, I could learn how to overcome the physical form. I may even be able to cheat death."

Plouton snickered. "How insane."

"It's not insanity, my friend. After all, if the research project was true, perhaps there's even a living, breathing example of it walking among us. An immortal body."

"An immortal walking alongside us? Yeah, sure. I need a bit more than fantastical stories to convince me of such a miraculous claim to power. After all, what is science but observing the natural world and understanding it? I can't observe your twisted stories, my friend."

Cain smirked. "Are you issuing a challenge, Plouton?"

"Depends. What do you have in mind?"

Cain leaned against the wall. "You're not above experimenting on yourself. Your entire body is one large chemical reaction waiting to go off. It's a miracle you're still alive." He chuckled. "I have a rough estimate of utilizing dark alchemy, but it's still in the unstable stages. I haven't even fully tested the full extent of my knowledge. I did use one of Takigawa's disposable children as a test subject, but…well, the results were a bit messy. But you? Your body isn't normal, either. You've survived countless self-experimentations, and you're still alive."

Plouton scratched his chin. "Intriguing. Are you proposing putting me under for surgery and testing your current dark alchemy theory?"

"Well, we could always wait for Arethusa to return with Ms. Faucher and perfect the dark alchemy. After all, the results as they are could…well, be deadly."

Plouton laughed. "Why would I waste an opportunity like this? A chance to subject myself to such disastrous, theoretical sciences? I wouldn't miss it." He smirked. "My body is perfectly capable of withstanding whatever volatile surgery you have to offer. I would be honored to partake in this experiment in the name of science."

Cain laughed in return. "You're as mad as me! I'm literally telling you this surgery could kill you."

Plouton stood up on his hindlegs and looked the doctor in the eyes. "And I'm telling you that I will survive."

Cain smirked. "Absolutely maddening. You've convinced me." He extended his hand. "Very well. Shall we schedule you in for next week?"

"Oh, why wait?" He grabbed the Hypno's hand and shook it. "Put me under tonight. I can't wait a second longer."

"You may just prove to be a valuable asset in my research, Plouton. I look forward to seeing what kind of monster is born from your abnormal body."

Plouton smirked, hissing with noxious fumes through his teeth. "All in the name of science."

"All in the name of science."

13th Rebirth Moon, 908 – Skeleton Water, Night

Scrounging through the ruins of Skeleton Water's local tavern, Babylas managed to procure a bottle of undamaged ale. He popped the cork off, grabbed a couple of damaged tankards, and poured a drink for himself and Vilgot. He threw the bottle aside, smashing it against some rubble, and slid a tankard across the slab of marble that was once a bar counter.

Vilgot caught the drink, staring into it unsurely. "We really shouldn't be wasting our time like this. They're getting further and further away—"

"Lighten up," Babylas said before unzipping his mouth. "Indulge a bit." He sipped from his tankard, smacking his lips together in satisfaction. "They can't escape me."

Vilgot glared before taking a hesitant sip of his ale. "It's funny to think you've been around just as recently as us, yet you've earned your marks under Absalom. What's your secret?"

"Pure grit and skill. I can just see everything a bit more clearly than the likes of you." Babylas sipped his ale again and sighed. "I worked hard to get to where I am, and I've had a few advantages to get me by. Doesn't excuse laziness. You must never lose sight of what set you on your path to begin with, lest you lose that part of your motivation."

"Why did you become a mercenary?"

"Same reason as everyone else: I wanted money. I just happened to be good at killing." Babylas ran his finger around the rim of his tankard. "Though, I did take on more honest work, or as honest as you can get out here. I used to do a bit of security work for this one company, but it ended up not working out. So, I turned back to my usual shtick until I decided to kill the previous Greed."

"Just…decided?"

"I saw something I wanted, so I took it. Simple."

Vilgot grimaced. "Of all the people to match their sin, you surely stand on top."

"It's a hard life being so unfathomably greedy. It's a curse, even. Obtaining knowledge itself isn't the curse, but the fact that detrimental curiosity knows we will never know everything. I could probably outlast several great minds desiring the secrets to everything, but even I will eventually fall to the ravages of time. A sad fact we must all accept, no matter how often the fear restrains us." He laughed. "A shame, too. Not like the old legends. Have you heard this one before?"

Vilgot raised his brow. "What legend?"

"It's an old story back before Virdis was discovered by the arbiters. Now, that alone makes you wonder: how can there be stories recorded during a time of savagery? Well, that's where the topic of discussion comes into play. There's a legend about a savage who obtained secrets of the universe just by chance. Never asked for them, never expected them. They were considered the apex of the savage world, being able to outthink their simple minds. Eventually, their knowledge extended to something greater. A greater understanding of the universe. They found a way to cheat death."

Vilgot glared. "What?"

"They say the former savage found a way to make themselves immortal. Eventually, they were able to walk among the savages for several generations. They say the remnants of the immortal's time on this world were left carved and painted across various points of Virdis. That is where the legend starts from. We only have cave paintings and odd little artifacts to tell the story. Some say the immortal continues to walk among us."

Vilgot groaned. "That sounds like a fairytale. No one creature can be immortal, not even Ghost-Types."

Babylas smirked. "Stranger things have happened. Who knows? Maybe there was some truth to the immortal's existence. Maybe they had to disappear for a while, or maybe they're closer than you think."

"…Wait, you're not the immortal, right?"

"Heh. I thought you weren't a believer."

Vilgot rolled his eyes. "N-No, I was just—"

Babylas snickered to himself before taking another swig of his ale. "Relax. No, I'm not the immortal. Sometimes I wish I was, but I'm not. Still, it's an admirable lifestyle. Someone who has seen it all. To understand the greater parts of our history through an immortal perspective. It tickles the fancy trying to understand the muddied history and the depths of its truth. All history is embellished in some way because either the truth isn't quite as clear, or someone doesn't want that truth to be remembered. But truth can be a greater motivator."

"…I suppose." Vilgot sipped his ale. "So, what was the point of that story?"

"You wanted a point? I just wanted to tell you a story." Babylas finished his ale and threw the tankard aside. "Though, I suppose if there was a point to my tale, it's that we're not immortal." He tilted his head toward the Flapple, his uncovered eye twinkling in a spectral purple. "And our lives can be cut down quickly because of our hubris."

Vilgot started to get uncomfortable. "Uh, wha—"

"Let's talk about your little revenge fantasy directed at Ms. Faucher." Babylas slid out of his chair and approached Vilgot. His squad of ten Shedinja appeared out from behind him, floating ominously over the cowering Flapple. "I hope you understand that such thoughts will not be allowed around me."

Vilgot immediately hopped out of his seat and placed some distance between himself and the Banette. "W-Whoa, hold on a moment!"

"What's the matter? You seemed so excited about talking about the ways you would torture her to get your revenge against Ms. Burkhard. Isn't that true?"

Vilgot clenched his teeth. "W-What does that matter?"

"Well, for one, Faucher is our primary target, and I doubt causing her undo stress and physical harm would benefit us. Even if her mind is required, there in lies the second issue I take with this: you think I would just stand by and accept your threats without retaliation?"

"H-Huh?"

Babylas zipped his mouth shut and laughed. "Don't take this personally, but I have some strong reservations against you laying a hand on Ms. Faucher. I find your lack of empathy quite appalling, and I've killed many without a shred of remorse. But I don't go out of my way to prolong someone's death. Mercenary work requires efficiency. You desire something akin to a sadist, and I will not stand idly by so you can fulfill your little hate fantasy."

Vilgot clenched his teeth. "Do you even understand what the Fauchers were responsible for? What does it matter if I mess with their last surviving member a bit? They've done far worse beyond the likes of the Outlands. Even you know what their actions led to. They brought her into the criminal underworld."

Babylas chuckled. "Perhaps."

"They created a monster without even realizing, because that's the kind of people the Fauchers are. They care about the pursuit of alchemy to such a nauseating degree that they'd risk the world first before their own knowledge." Vilgot snarled. "And now look where it got me. My best friend died because of her alchemical knowledge, and her bitchy friend went to town slaughtering me. These people do not deserve our sympathy!"

"Perhaps."

"And now you stand here saying I'm in the wrong?! She's a threat to all of us. The least we can do is remind stuck-up elitists like her what the rough and tough parts of the Outlands are truly about! If that means torturing her until she understands true pain, then so be it!"

"…Perhaps—"

"Stop saying perhaps!"

Babylas laughed. "You have such a backwards way of expressing anger, but never you mind that. Regardless of how you feel for Ms. Faucher's bloodline, that doesn't change the fact I can't accept this inane scheme of yours."

Vilgot sneered. "Then what are you going to do about it?"

"I offer you a duel."

"A duel?"

Babylas smirked. "It's quite simple. All you need to do is land a single hit on me, and I'll let you do as you please. However, fail to do so in time, I'll kill you."

"…" Vilgot glared. "What is this?"

"A threat. I am willing to forgive you, but I will take your acceptance to the duel as confirmation you'll go through with your revenge scheme. The choice is yours. Are you confident enough in your weakness that you can contend with the likes of me? You, the weakest of the sins?"

Vilgot gnashed his teeth together. "I am sick and tired of everyone calling me the weakest sin."

"Then prove us wrong." Babylas tucked a finger under his eyepatch. "Hit me with everything you can muster."

It was an obvious bait. Even Vilgot could understand that. Babylas was pushing him to do something irrationally and line himself up for death. It would've been smarter to back down then and there, forget his rage, and move on with the original plan. He was offered a chance for forgiveness, no strings attached. He just had to bow his head in forgiveness and walk away.

…But all he had to do was land one hit, right?

"You'll regret underestimating me, Greed." Vilgot pulled out whatever seeds he had left stashed away on him and grew them into full-sized berries. "Do you really think so little of me that you give me such a basic condition to your compliance? You're the arrogant one here. You have no right to dictate me as the weakest. I'll show you the follies of your arrogance as the true Sin of Pride!"

He shoveled the berries into his mouth, grinding them down and swallowing. He felt his stomach swelling with power, feeling the effects of the berries coursing through his shot nerves. Though his body was mangled from his previous battle, he had just enough strength left for one devastating attack.

"All I need is one strike, right? You'll regret your decision!"

It was just one hit. Just one. He can do this. He will prove to them all that he wasn't the weakest. He'll prove himself the superior sin, then he'll be the one to overthrow Absalom and take command of the Outlands and the whole of Virdis. Everything will comply with his design. He'll show them all. He'll show them the depths of his power.

Vilgot launched across the ruined tavern. "This is my true strength! Remember it well, Sin of Greed! Envy Devastation—"

SHING, SHING, SHING!

Vilgot froze midair as three hot slashes ripped across his body, two striking diagonally and one down the middle. His eyes frantically flickered around, seeing that he was succumbed in a blanket of darkness for a moment, one that appeared the second he blinked. As the darkness receded within that same second, he looked through his peripherals and saw Babylas standing behind him, pulling his eyepatch back on.

In his hand was a chipped katana, its blade resembling cracked obsidian, with flames wreathed around the sharp edge. He flicked the blade, then drew a cloth across its surface, wiping away the bloodstains.

That was the last thing Vilgot could perceive before his body split apart into six pieces and scattered over the ground. The wounds were charred black, and blood exploded into vapor from the intense heat that was delivered within the span of a second. The berries he had just consumed seconds prior spilled from his slashed stomach mixed with his stomach acids.

Babylas lifted the katana toward a nearby Shedinja, allowing it to absorb the weapon back into the shadows. "They never take that warning seriously." He reached through the Shedinja's back again and pulled out some parchment and a stick of charcoal. He took his seat back at the broken-down bar counter.

He smoothed the parchment out and proceeded to pen a letter, intending to reach out to Cain Underhill about the inevitable capture of Evelot Faucher. It seemed arrogant to declare capture so early, but he guaranteed Evelot will be in his custody by the time they reach their next destination.

"Helmut should be able to stall them long enough for my arrival. If not, he'll definitely wither them down just a bit more." He glared. "After that, I can finally get Evelot out of the Outlands and away from all this crazy. In the hands of Last Autumn…is better than her figuring out the truth of that day."

Year 898

"You understand the importance of your employment under the Broken Glass Alchemical Company?"

"Yes, I do. To protect the youngest daughter of your family. I understand my role clearly."

"You will be serving alongside a number of other mercenaries hired to protect our individual children, so I expect you to cooperate when the need arises."

"I understand."

"Ricwin, I have my doubts about this."

"I know he's young, Ayleen, but he's one of the best mercenaries around the Outlands. If anyone can keep Evelot safe, it's him."

"Still…"

"Give it a chance."

"…Alright. I'll trust you."

"Very good. Well, everything seems to be in order. Welcome to the Broken Glass Alchemical Company, Babylas Marchand."

The Banette bowed to the Mimikyu and Chandelure couple. "Happy to lend my services, Mr. and Mrs. Faucher." With that, he turned toward the fourteen-year-old Mimikyu who cowered behind the doorframe of her parents' office. He chuckled. "Well, looks like you and I will be spending a lot of time together, Ms. Faucher."

"…" Evelot shuffled out from behind cover. "H…Hi…"

Babylas approached cautiously, then bowed to her. "I give my word. So long as I remain under your company's services, I shall do everything in my power to protect you. You will never know fear as long as I'm here."