Chapter 187 – The Superpowers Shift

"My… soul," Alex whispered.

An ultimate weapon that would shatter Alexander's power, possibly outright killing him with no effort. All they needed was the soul of his kin to use as the fuel. When Alex tried to breathe out, all he did was whimper.

"It… it probably won't kill you," Xerneas said, which was the exact opposite kind of uncertainty he'd ever want to hear from Xerneas, of all people. "We aren't sure. It's experimental, uncharted territory of the Worldcore's properties. Never done before, and perhaps never to be done again.

"Only an echo of it had been attempted before with Nate's Light of Ruin. That attack requires the energy of countless lives to power it—and that comes from the spirits within Nate's Dark Orb. That is also why it takes so long for Nate to charge another. An attack of that magnitude… it exhausts all who contribute to it, spiritually and physically."

"And… the same is true for me," Alex said. "But it's that risky? What… what is the worst-case scenario for me here?" He felt selfish for asking but he had to know. Would it really…

"We don't think it would destroy you," Xerneas said. "But it may leave you… inert. For an unknown period of time. It could also drain you of all your power—but, and I mean little offense, that isn't a major concern compared to the powers around you."

Alex winced. Yes, he understood. But he'd worked hard to be a Hydreigon. Why was that now brushed aside? Even if it was for nefarious purposes by his father, his training was just as hard! And… inert for 'a while.'

If this happened, would he see Amia again? Would he cast aside his change of her recovering? She'd probably move on, find someone else. Which was fine for her. But… was he ready for that? But… the world needed this, too. He supposed in the eyes of gods, that meant little. He was just a tool to them.

…That was bitter. Was that Xander talking? Maybe he had a point…

"You don't have to do this, you know," Mhynt said in a warding manner.

"I know," Alex said. "But… but I can't deny this."

The Treecko's stare was icy. "You don't realize the gravity of this. Xerneas… you said soul." Mhynt stared directly at the god of life. "You, of all people, would not mishandle that term."

"Correct," Xerneas replied. "The… soul."

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Alex said. "Is there a technical term behind this?"

Xerneas settled until he was lying in the makeshift nest again. "Body, aura, spirit, soul. Those are the four layers that Kilo recognizes as existence. I believe you are familiar with the body, the aura, and the spirit, yes?"

"Well… yes. But spirit, soul, those are interchangeable, yes?"

"For the average person," Xerneas said. "Both are untouchable. Most people only interface with the first two, and we only really see spirits without an aura in Guardian Cores. Those golden orbs of light. But the soul is even deeper, and is entirely intangible. It is where everything projects outward, where everything is recorded. It is all that truly transfers from one realm to another; everything else is merely recreated."

"But because it is so deep," Mhynt said, "anything that would tamper with it… would be fundamental, yes? It would propagate outward. You would be the only person who can go that deep, or…"

"Or Nate, the Worldcore," stated Xerneas. "And that is what we need to do if we want to do something unprecedented. With the current rules in place, with the current way Kilo operates, I and the other gods have determined… a soul whose spirit came from Alexander is our best bet to disrupt Alexander's power on a fundamental level. Additionally, it will help us facilitate the creation of… a Soul Destruction Bullet."

Alex's breath hitched. "It… it would go that far?" he whispered. "To outright destroy…"

"To ease your guilt," Xerneas said, "a soul destroyed is… technically impossible, on the scale of the Overworld. What truly happens is you would make this realm no longer recognize that Alexander exists. A soul anchors itself to a universe, and everything else falls into place from there. So, if the soul is ignored… they can never interact with that reality. Thus, a soul destroyer."

"Then, an… exile. Of the very soul, from their reality. Entirely, and permanently?"

Xerneas nodded. "They may never return home again, and it is irrevocable, even if the gods wished to undo it. It cannot be changed without destroying and recreating the entire universe from the ground up. Which is possible, but… that's what we've been trying to avoid all this time."

"Where would my father go?" Alex asked, earning an incredulous look from Mhynt.

"Are you serious?" Mhynt asked.

Alex shrank away. He had no defense. He'd practically asked it as a reflex…

"…Well, regardless of… why you want to know," Xerneas said, "he will be shunted into the Overworld as a powerless spirit. From there, the likes of Hecto or Necrozma—Overseers—will take him in and he will no longer be a problem. Likely: they will try to rehabilitate him."

"Rehabilitate someone like that?" Mhynt hissed. "He doesn't deserve—"

"I understand." Xerneas nodded. "You're preaching to a believer. But… that is the nature of the Overworld. Nothing can die. You must carry the burdens forever, and that includes those you don't want to exist. Of course, there are workarounds. I imagine if Alexander is truly beyond repair, they'll… put another life over him and see if he becomes someone better."

"You mean they'll reincarnate him," Mhynt said. She looked uncomfortable with the thought. Alex could understand why…

"It seems to be very effective at getting rid of 'someone' when you can't truly kill them. In a sense… a few here in Kilo have already experienced such total erasure. My former life included."

"Mine as well," Yveltal added with a tinge of regret. "I have the memories and soul of 'Step,' but… that is all she is now. Memories. I do not want to go back to that sort of life… so, 'Step' is gone."

"Aside from the kids," Xerneas added quietly.

"Well… yes. There are exceptions." Yveltal said with a relaxing posture. "Though…" With that, her mood returned to somber. "I do not think Alexander will get the same luxury, should we eliminate him in this way, and should he refuse any help."

"I… I see. Okay." Alex breathed deeply this time. "…What will happen to me, then? To my 'soul' if it's… tampered with?"

"We will need to attach it to the Worldcore," Xerneas explained. "From there, your spirit may be used as a reference to directly counter Alexander's very similar spirit. It should be enough. This normally is… very difficult to pull off safely, since the child of one person is typically similar by nature, and wouldn't want to get rid of the person that bullet is meant for. But your upbringing, your experiences, everything that makes you, you today… You are so fundamentally different from your father that Nate and the other gods have already ruled out any risks related to your nature."

As Xerneas spoke, Alex felt a strange, warm pang in his chest that rose through the back of his neck. His eyes blurred and he wiped them with his left head, though even that head was crying, smushing wet, tearful scales together.

"…Did I offend you?" Xerneas asked, looking befuddled.

"No, no! I—I'm sorry. I was just… not expecting to be told that or, or trusted so immensely," he admitted.

"Hmph. You're nothing like him," Mhynt said. "You took after my daughter. And I would trust the world with her."

"Well, regardless." Xerneas shrugged it off. "This is a very grave question, Alex. And one that I am sorry for putting onto you so suddenly. You may take a day or two to consider it, because—"

"I accept."

"You do not," Xerneas said flatly. "This is not something to decide rashly. You will tell me your decision tomorrow."

Alex frowned. Mhynt was eyeing him again, gaze burning into him.

"Owen's already done this, hasn't he?" Alex asked.

"What?" Xerneas replied, taken aback. Yveltal subtly shifted her weight.

"Owen. He was part of the Worldcore for a while. Inadvertently… he did that, didn't he?"

"I don't know the full nature of it," Xerneas said. "But he did go through a similar process, yes."

"Then I won't even be alone. And… and I've dreamed of being able to do something like Owen has. To contribute to the world so boldly. I… I must do this. This is my time. Surely, you understand."

Xerneas opened his mouth but no words came. It was clear that he had no retort. Instead, he addressed Mhynt with a stare.

"You know he won't change his mind," Mhynt said plainly. "He has both selfish and selfless reasons to do this. You won't dismantle both categories."

With a grunt, Xerneas relented. "I suppose I won't. But it must still be tomorrow. You need to inform everyone close to you of the process. I will not do it in good conscience otherwise. And… I and the Kiloan gods need time to prepare anyway. You won't gain anything from insisting on doing it now."

Alex deflated. "Okay," he said. That was all reasonable, but a small part of him dreaded telling the others. "Well, send Star and Barky my regards. I suppose I could just pray to them, but… that's still strange to me…"

"…Oh. Right." Xerneas shifted again, looking somehow even more awkward. "…When I said, Kiloan gods… I didn't mean to include Barky."

"What?" Alex squinted. "But surely, he's the greatest of the gods, technically. Right?"

"Well…"

Destiny Tower's restoration was a slow but steady process. By now, most of the marble had been put back together with divine effort, and the tower was almost entirely constructed externally. Now the inside was piecing itself back together autonomously to Barky's will.

Leph drifted up the finished stairway, her golden hooves merely a few inches off the ground. Distantly, Aster and Star were playing a game of tag two floors below, and it was a bit of a high-speed one that occasionally gave the autonomous repairs more work to do.

But this evening called for a more serious conversation.

"Father."

Barky stood at the edge of the tower, overseeing the setting sun. He was alone with the wind, which blew his recently groomed fur. It was warmer even after they'd restored the planet's orbit. Leph figured it was because of spring's approach.

"Xerneas called for you, but you sent me in your place for a very important discussion. I'd finally returned from it and further planning with Nate."

"Good. How did it go?" Barky turned around, though Leph could tell he was looking past her and not in her eyes.

"It went well," Leph replied, tilting her head upward to meet his gaze. No, somehow, still no true eye contact. "Father, I've been distracted all this time with your decision to send me in your place. Even Star does not understand. Explain yourself."

For the first time, Barky properly looked at her. Leph saw… conflict and shame, which surprised her enough to break her stern tone.

"Father?"

"Gh." Barky's head flicked to the side as he glared at nothing.

"Father, did someone wrong you?"

"Do not call me Father. I understand the intent, but… it is not necessary."

Leph flinched, suddenly hurt, yet she didn't know how to articulate that.

"…It… isn't that I dislike you. It is that I'm not worthy of the title. I do not know you, Leph, not nearly as well as I should. My memories of you have become… timeworn. And your time away from me far exceeds your time with me properly. I didn't even raise you. That was Madeline, and perhaps in part Darkrai, Marshadow, and Owen…"

Leph calmed down with the explanation. It made sense, but…

"Will you still humor it?" she pressed. "I would not consider Owen nor Marshadow proper parental figures, and Darkrai is more of a friendly uncle. I understand gods do not need parents… but they are nice to have."

He didn't answer. He only turned his attention back to the horizon, drifting to the side to invite Leph to watch with him.

She sighed and humored that instead. She drifted to the edge of the tower and closed her eyes, expanding her watch over the world. From the tower, she sent her consciousness into the trees, silently noting the ones that were worse in clusters and others that were gnarled and twisted like in the Voidlands. Those could be new patches or lingering blights.

Then, she shifted to the fields of grass, the soil, and all the Pokémon within it, dead and alive. Centuries of history buried in the dirt, so many stories forgotten to time. She watched the air and the skies. Less interesting, save for the hints of vapors and particles that hint at the world's state. Distant fires, drifting seeds… even the wind had something to tell her.

"…I didn't even have to tell you," Barky said quietly.

"What?" She broke her concentration, returning to the top of Destiny Tower.

"It took centuries for me to understand how to reach into the world as you just did," Barky said. "And even I… struggle to expand my consciousness in such a way."

"You and I are alike," Leph said, puzzled. "Should it not come easily?"

"There is a resistance," Barky said. "I must channel the Hands, many of them, and then I must concentrate entirely, and for much of the evening. It isn't something to relax with. It is a deep strain."

"…I don't understand," Leph admitted.

Barky sighed, turning to fully face Leph again. She did the same.

"Is this… about the explosion?" she asked. "You were tired from the Purification, Father. As was I. It's… really okay."

"Why do you speak so formally with me?" Barky asked. "You don't always talk like this."

Leph flinched. "Must you—I mean, why are you… deconstructing me so much tonight?"

"Are you the one humoring me?" Barky asked. Despite the accusatory sentence, the tone of his voice was… feebler than she imagined Barky was capable of. This was bothering him to his core.

"Please just speak plainly with me," Leph said. "…Or… spit it out."

"We don't have mouths."

Leph sighed, without a mouth. "You know what I mean."

The smallest glint of humor sparkled in his eyes, though it was brief. But that small levity must have relaxed him enough to get to the point.

"I'm unfit for this and you demonstrated it effortlessly. I'm realizing how… you are Kilo's proper god. And I have been… the interim ruler for far too long."

"Excuse me?"

"It is your birthright," Barky said. "It's plain as day, Leph, that… by instinct, you are this world's guardian. I do not have the same plain-as-day outlook on how to protect this world that you do. The same natural ability to, with just a single Hand, undo so much divine damage. And even if it isn't enough to counter Alexander, it's already far more than I could have hoped to do myself."

"The… the Hands are merely keys to the Worldcore," Leph said. "And Alexander is a competing Worldcore of a sort, with Dark Matter's opposite but equal power. You only need one to fix something uncontested like idle energies."

"And yet I could not. That answer, which came to you so naturally, I had to study. I made this world with Star and Necrozma, and yet I do not know the first thing about it in practice. You, born from it… you are the world's natural god.

"I'm… simply an invader."

"How can a creator be an invader?" Leph said with a laugh. "Please, you're… being far too dramatic."

The sunset was beautiful today. Even if that 'sun' was merely an echo of Necrozma's divine power, the effect on a dweller of Kilo was the same. Orange streaks mingled with splotches of deep blue at the night's slow arrival. This part of Kilo sighed, enjoying a rare moment of respite.

"I want you to take my power," Barky said. "All of it. Every Hand."

She knew the request—no, the demand—was coming. Despite that, it still squeezed at her chest. She didn't want to have this conversation tonight, even if, in the back of her mind, she knew it would have come eventually.

"You would do far more with it," Barky said. "I… I'm done."

The sun over the distant fields was now little more than an orange line that the grass absorbed. Countless complex interactions with rays of light through the atmosphere turned that yellow light into a brief, wondrous flash of green just as the sun disappeared completely, leaving the moon and other false stars to keep the sky alight.

"This is so unlike you," Leph said. "What happened to the god who hated not being the largest in the room?"

Barky grunted at that but had no retort. He drifted away from the tower's edge. His back glowed with divine light…

"You clearly have been thinking about this for a while, but… it's late. And while we don't need sleep, I… want some." Leph didn't look at the light for long. "Father, do you know what will happen to you if… I took all of this?"

The light flickered. That was enough to tell Leph Barky was not thinking rationally. There was still doubt and hesitation in this; he was being hasty, trying to get it over with. Or…

"Are you trying to escape?" Leph asked.

The light nearly vanished. She'd hit it precisely.

"It's not—certain what will happen. We never really explored it and it's not like it's easy to test. But it would be the equivalent of breaking a Divine Promise." Barky looked up. "If I gave my power to you, all of it, every single Hand within me… well, then I would be devoid of divine power. But as someone who had become purely divine, I lost my connection to the natural world. I would…"

"…Disappear. And perhaps with no way to return, physically or spiritually." Leph looked at Barky. "No god has ever given up their divine power entirely. Even Necrozma retained a small portion within Valle to preserve himself, even after he was captured in the Voidlands. But to lose your divine power while in this realm? I think… you would die, Father. Perhaps even a Lockout.

"From your own world. Is that truly what you're risking? Or… is that what you were hoping?"

"This conversation was a mistake," Barky said, perhaps without thinking.

"I can't believe you," Leph hissed, earning a wince from the original god. "All that pride crumbling right before my eyes…"

"It had a series of incidents to erode it," Barky stated, looking smaller. "I'd succumbed to Ghrelle without realizing it until it was too late. Powerless against Dark Matter and Alexander, and then remembering how I'd been just as impotent before. Fits of rage that led to this whole problem in the first place… And then you undo the damage from Necrozma in seconds. Something I couldn't begin to think of how to undo—you did with such ease.

"Leph. You were supposed to rule this world from the start." Barky squeezed his eyes shut. "My fears when creating this world… it led to your birth. It led to someone who could do what I doubted. You are my fear's answer. You're this world's savior—"

"I don't want that," Leph snapped, stomping her hoof. The ethereal ring silenced all other sounds.

The fleeting beauty of the sunset finally ended. Only cold darkness remained from the skies as clouds rolled over the moon.

"This isn't the time," Leph said with a punctuated growl, "for a discussion like this. I'm not ready to take on all that when the world's already crumbling. Even if you gave me all this power, I don't think I can just… wave my hoof and fix Alexander's problem, or Ghrelle. Those are other divine domains clashing with this one. You have the raw power I do not. But…"

She sighed, relenting as her frustrations slowly drained.

"I will take one."

"One?"

"I only need one to do what I did before. Any more is… useless, just raw power. So, yes. Grant me one."

"More will still be more power," Barky said.

"One."

Barky winced. "…Very well. One."

Many of the light tendrils disappeared into his back, replaced by a singular filament that drifted forward. Leph took it in one hoof and pulled. Barky relinquished it with a wince—it seemed to truly hurt him—as the tendril swiftly disappeared into Leph's golden hoof.

"Thank you," Leph said.

"I also would like to make one more request, then," Barky said.

"What is it?" She tried to disguise her exasperation with patience. Didn't go well.

"I believe eventually, I might get second thoughts. And I may cause a whole slew of new problems again. If you are hesitant to take up your throne, and while I can still think clearly about these doubts… I wish to make a Divine Promise with you. One-sided; a contract for me to follow."

All the while, Barky avoided her eyes. His glow was a lot dimmer now that the Hands were back within his body.

"What is the Promise?"

"…That… I shall never do something for you to deem me a failure. That word, 'failure.' Declare me as one, and… I will have broken my Promise."

"Ridiculous. No."

"Please, Leph. I… I can't trust myself with this anymore!" Barky stood straighter. "Every day I think about how all of this is my fault! How with one act of anger I'd destroyed an island of innocents to smite a small group on it! How if I'd merely cooperated with the mortals, at any point before Dark Matter's rise, perhaps all of this could have been avoided. I can't get those thoughts out of my head, Leph. And I fear one day I'll… slip again. Please. Just this Promise, even if you never act on it."

"What is wrong with you?" Leph snapped.

But before she could say more, Barky parried: "That is precisely why you must accept."

Leph nearly snarled. She hated him. How weak he was. This divine disgrace was already a failure.

But as that heated thought passed… she understood, at least in part, his fear. He needed to be kept in check. And probably also wanted an 'out' from this position now that it had weighed him down so much. His haughty exterior had crumbled entirely after being humbled one too many times.

"Fine," she said, holding out her hoof. Using her new Hand, the hoof glowed a bright silver. Barky reached next.

"Do you, Arceus, Promise to never cause me to call you a failure?"

Barky looked… solemn and relieved. The silver lights along his hoof grew brighter. "I Promise," he said.

And with the chains of a Divine Promise binding them, the pact was made.

"But Sera, you're the beeest at being stealthy!" Sera muttered aloud, arms crossed as her ectoplasmic fur undulated in her mane. "Why, you have the memories of Spice, who could hide and spy on any kind of criminal, and Enet, one of the most talented Zoroark in the world! You'd be the best to find the literal person with an undo button!" She kicked a rock, which in turn kicked up more Voidland dust in the air.

Sera was alone and trying to talk to herself to stay calm. She just had to avoid being seen and avoid being caught. She had an Illusion up that masked sound, sight, and aura. Alakazam weren't known for keen senses otherwise, so she was supposed to be safe.

But when this Alakazam apparently had a trinket that let him retry anything that went wrong—and she'd have no memory of the prior attempts—how could she not be nervous? Even being hypothetically spotted could mean actually being spotted, and not remembering!

However, they needed to send someone as part of Owen's plan, or at least, the part he'd outlined before passing out from missing half his face. They needed to know exactly what Nevren was doing, and to report on it.

"Sera, report," Mhynt called on the other end.

"This is report two," Sera whispered back.

"…Interesting."

"What?"

"No resets yet."

Gods, that was uncomfortable. She had to live with the idea that she could have answered that question tens or hundreds of times and to her, each time, it would have been the first.

"Anyway, nothing yet," Sera said. "I'm getting pretty close to—" She suddenly cursed when something vile crinkled her ectoplasmic mane until it nearly receded into her skull. It instead curled around her neck like a tight scarf.

"What? Sera? No—report."

"Report three," Sera whispered. "Think I found a fragment."

"What?!"

It was faint. In Void Forest, with its blackened and gnarled trees, she could see quite far, but only intermittently depending on lucky gaps in the trunks. And in that instant, she'd seen an Altaria sliding through it, head drooping, leaving a long trail of black slime.

"We ever get info on Ano?" Sera whispered again. "Think I found Ghrelle… Do I follow?"

No reply for now. But this was bad. She was supposed to scout Alexander's area, expecting Nevren to be there based on Owen's predictions. Why was Ghrelle also there? Her song was lethal. Just a few verses could debilitate someone or worse…

She made the decision to follow for now. And just seconds later, she saw a flash of yellow past the trees. Ghrelle was staring in the same direction. Sera silently cursed and double checked that her Illusions were up. She couldn't really see them, but she could feel the illusory bubble around her. That was good enough. Like holding her breath.

Ghrelle spoke. "You—"

Nevren appeared in front of her in a flash of light and shoved a finger into her chest. Ghrelle squawked and opened her break, about to fly back. Nevren appeared behind her and blasted a purple beam of Psychic energy into the square of her back, toppling her into the soil. Ghrelle stood up and sang a single note of a song that sapped Sera's energy in an instant—

But then Nevren pinned the bird's neck to the ground and brought a spoon forward, reaching past her head. He flicked his wrist. Sera couldn't see anything else from her angle and didn't dare move. She heard something hard, like a beak, knocking against metal. And she heard desperate gasps and gurgling. Then a scream that was obstructed by metal again, and then the clanging of two spoons rattling in the same place. A sickening crack.

Sera's heart raced in her chest. Her mane pulsed with the same rhythm. Easing her breath, her mind raced through countless deaths she'd gone through as a feral, and she had to admit, what she was imagining with Ghrelle was up there.

It was quiet again. She heard… a squelch, like someone pulled free something lodged in flesh. Then another. Sera peered past the tree trunk again…

Nevren was gone. Ghrelle lay motionless in the dust; she couldn't see her face. She didn't want to. Nobody deserved that.

"Sera?" Mhynt said. Her voice was… unusually delicate. "Report."

"…R… report four," Sera said. "It wasn't four, was it?"

Mhynt didn't reply again. Sera nervously approached, but some instinct told her not to. This was death. The killer was just here and could return. A feral knew not to approach. But the rest of her wanted to at least… bury her, or something. Anything. Would that give it away? That Nevren had been seen? Did that matter?

"Sera? Report."

"Five. It's five. It's over," Sera whispered.

"What happened? We… have details from… past iterations. But Nevren never seemed to spot you."

"Ghrelle's dead," Sera said. "Do I bring back the body? Or… leave?"

"What? Dead? Just like that?" Mhynt asked.

"She's just lying there. She's dead."

"Do you see her Orb?"

"What?" Oh, that was true. If a Guardian died, their Orb would fall out somewhere nearby. But… "No. I don't see it. But she's definitely dead. No aura."

Mhynt cursed while the line was still open. "Then he took it… Nevren might be the new Poison Guardian."

"No way he did that instantly. He must have pocketed it," Sera said. "Don't you pass out when first taking one?"

"That's true. Sera, he's not resetting, so he must feel safe and is traveling. Return quickly. You've done your job. Mu will come and find you."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay… Do you have a lock on my position?" Sera asked.

"We can triangulate your signal with a few checks. You'll be fine."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay…" Sera sighed. "…How… how many times did I say report four?"

A pause again. Then, "Twenty."

Sera squinted. "It… it only took him twenty tries to kill Ghrelle. Twenty tries. That's it…"

She sank against the dead tree behind her.

"How do we fight that?" she whispered.

This time, Sera didn't receive a reply at all until Mu came to bring her home.