Chapter 194 – Just Past Noon
The idea of formations and strategy flew right out the window. Rescuing Star had become an absolute priority.
Owen had enough sense to bestow a Chaos shield onto Star. It pushed Alexander's jaws out of her body and, even as he pressed hard enough to chip his teeth, gave her some breathing room to fly away. Countless golden tendrils of light dangled from her body like loose entrails that she desperately tried to stuff back into her wounds.
She whimpered and slammed into Owen's wings, breathing heavily. Owen wrapped his wings around her, standing on a platform of solid air. "I'll take her back!" he announced. "Hold him off—"
He couldn't hear his own commands as a Shadow Storm conjured around him, forcing him into the twister's eye.
"Star, I need a Teleport," Owen barked. "Let me Mimic one, just a quick Teleport—"
"You can't," Star whispered.
"What—"
Owen tried to move. He felt like something was tugging at him, both in body and spirit. "What is this?!"
Threads his Perceive, still trying to recover, wouldn't have seen. Energy, aura, Owen couldn't tell. Maybe both. It locked him in place and disrupted Star's Teleport.
The wall of the storm churned oddly to the right. Owen quickly ducked, narrowly dodging a full-body tackle from Alexander. He tried to retaliate with a Flamethrower. It struck the storm wall, shredded by the gales.
Golden flashes dully lit up parts of the storm. Others outside tried to disrupt it, but it wasn't strong enough. Alexander was putting everything he had into this attack—it was way stronger than Owen expected. Would his Protect last if he tried to push through, or would those threads tethering him keep him trapped in the maelstrom?
Alexander emerged again, this time grazing Owen's left wing. He grunted in frustration, swinging at nothing, and Alexander was within the gales once more.
This wasn't working. He was trapped. Did he have to endure?
In his arms, Star curled up tighter, trembling. His heart ached. She was terrified. And he was her last line of defense.
But there still had to be a way out of this. Owen could find a way. Alexander always had a tell in the way the walls of the storm shifted. It was subtle, but it was enough. If he defended long enough that his Perceive regenerated—
There!
Another shift in the storm. Owen beat his wings and narrowly dodged Alexander's dash, then brought up a Protect to block a stray blast as Alexander plunged through the purple storm wall again. He wasn't expecting Alexander to rear back and ram into his stomach.
Alexander's shadowy fangs met the softer scales of his gut, but only achieved surface wounds. Owen pivoted and thwacked him with a tail coated in Radiant light, the final golden embers singeing the Hydreigon's face. The ichor along the cracks of his body sizzled.
With his right head, Alexander clamped onto Owen's thigh and tore at a piece of his leg, leaving a long, trialing gash as he fled. Owen hissed and backed up further—the storm's winds caught his wings and throttled him along the swirling eye.
"Having trouble?"
Jaws clamped onto Owen's right arm at two different places. Something cracked and Owen broke loose with a pained snarl. He couldn't feel his arm—and based on how lopsided his flight felt, it was because Alexander had made a meal out of it. Divine prowess dulled the pain, but it was just another symbol of Owen having no advantage in the storm and no way out. Could he fly high in time? But then Alexander would pursue. He couldn't afford that. Down below? No, that… wouldn't work either.
"Are you okay, Star?" Owen asked quietly.
No response. But she was alive. His Perceive was flickering back; she was tense, heart pounding. Terrified.
"It's alright," Owen whispered, hoping she could hear over the wind. "I've got—"
He choked on a gasp.
Star had a hand to his chest, a single Hand of Creation stabbing into his core.
"St-Star… what…"
His left arm moved on its own, firing a concentrated beam of Fairy energy into the storm. Alexander shouted in alarm, halting his incoming strike.
"Star!" Owen struggled for control. "Stop, what are you doing—I can't fight like this!"
He clumsily flew through the sky, blood spattering into the twister from his right shoulder. His left palm pointed at Alexander again without his permission, firing where Owen could sense Alexander.
"Star!"
But when Owen looked down, he realized that Star was glowing—and she seemed to be in pain.
"What?!"
And then Owen remembered…
"STAR!"
Her Divine Promise. She wasn't supposed to control him. Otherwise—
"Sorry," Star said, forcing Owen to fire for a third time. "Guess in the end… I've been nothing but trouble. Huh?"
She wasn't looking at him, but he could sense her exhausted, terrified smile. Motes of light siphoned out of her body and into Owen's as the Promise broke. Owen's heartbeat thumped in his head. The whole earth rumbled at a great and unprecedented disturbance, shaking the rocks, shifting the clouds, and even wobbling the eye of Alexander's Shadow Storm.
"But where will you go?" Owen breathed out.
Star closed her eyes. Her body lost its form. But she was smiling. She had no regrets. "I don't know."
The rest of her vanished, leaving nothing but the Hands of Creation behind.
One by one, they siphoned into Owen's body, dissipating across his scales and through his spirit like a warm blanket. His arm regenerated, first with bones of light, solidifying into conjured matter. Muscles and tendons weaved around every joint, and scales covered it all in seconds like he'd never been hurt. His Perceive was back in full force—and the chaos of the storm wasn't even a bother.
He Perceived even further out. He saw Mhynt conjuring something that distorted the air behind her, roughly the size of her old Lunala self. Was she firing at the storm? All behind her, the others were blasting the storm to no avail. A few looked behind them toward something out of Owen's range.
Everything felt so distant. Time slowed to a mournful crawl. The storm's roar was only a hesitant murmur. After all that happened, Star had made that Promise as if to assure Owen she would never betray him again.
Yet she did so anyway. By running away. Breaking the Promise just to power him up. She wouldn't even get to see the results. Where had she gone? Was she just…
What was he supposed to tell Barky? What about Aster?
Alexander was preparing for another assault. Owen saw that clearly now.
No. No, this was enough. He was done. He was done with this. Star was… all because…
Alexander burst from the storm and slammed into Owen head-on. He didn't bother dodging. Instead, the Shadow Hydreigon's body scrunched up from sheer momentum, breaking open old wounds and spilling ichor over a Chaos barrier that coated his body.
"Ngh… lucky block," he snarled, pushing away. "Hrgk—!"
Owen grabbed Alexander with one hand, squeezing his throat. Even as Alexander struggled against him, his grip didn't loosen. But Alexander himself was also too malleable to do true damage this way.
"What… are you—"
Still holding Alexander, Owen breathed deeply. Then, he exhaled, blasting Alexander point-blank with a nonstop beam of Radiance. Alexander shrieked in pain as he brought his arms up to block the attack, but then his arms dissolved into the Radiance. Then his chest and face, but shortly after, Owen's hand dissolved from the blast, too, leaving not even bones behind. Alexander's body scattered into the storm… but it was coalescing again.
"Even after all that," Owen snarled, "you aren't dead?"
But this divine power had granted him a small boon. He could tell that Alexander was getting weaker. The so-called bottomless well of power… was only a reservoir. And eventually, it was due to dry up.
Golden tendrils writhed from Owen's disintegrated arm, stitching into a new hand before receding. He flexed his fingers, inspecting the scales. Good as new.
Owen could get out of the storm if Alexander retreated. He spotted the most recent flash and tucked in his wings for a dive. He conjured a dark Protect and pushed through the twisting storm. It knocked him sideways but he still managed to get past the worst of the storm. Even with his new, Divine power, emotions flaring, seeing red and gold in the corners of his vision, this storm was strong.
But he broke past it anyway, ramming directly into Migami.
"Yow! Ah! Owen!" Migami shouted, pushing him away. "You're alive!"
"Star…" Owen shook his head.
"Wh-where's…" They stared at Owen, distinctly lacking the Mew in his arms. "C'mon, we gotta—"
"Let's fuse," Owen said.
"Eh?! Just like that?!"
"We don't have time, guys!" Owen hissed.
"O-okay, okay!"
Owen held his breath. He was tense. It could go wrong. His emotions were all over the place.
But that tore it. He had to come up with a plan. He needed Mispy to help, and he needed Demitri's strength and Gahi's speed to weaken Alexander enough that the others could hold him off.
At least, that was the hope.
Owen pushed his claws into Migami's chest as their bodies melded together.
For the first time in five hundred years, The Alloy would return.
Alex silently drifted through the strange, prismatic cavern that the new Tree of Life's roots had formed. Walking beside him was Amia, hand gently on his left side. On the right was a little Mimikyu in the cloth of a Goomy—an avatar of the Worldcore.
"So, this is where I will be," Alex said. "For… forever. Will I even be… me?"
There's no telling, replied Nate. This is all theory. The outcome has never been proven. But from what I have seen in yesterday's projections, Owen will not defeat Alexander. Not without your help… Not without a spirit close enough to his that a bullet can be crafted to destroy his soul outright.
"Right. I… understand. Well… not really," Alex admitted. "But I know that my spirit is closest to my father's, and the most able."
Nate drooped sorrowfully and stopped at the edge of the underground path. Just ahead, the roots spread out into a much larger chamber, all sprawling and concentrating upward to form the cavern's ceiling. At the center was a collection of lights—like staring at a galaxy. A thousand constellations trapped within a sphere no larger than a bedroom.
If we had more time, if I could have seen more than one future, maybe I could have come up with something better, Nate lamented. But… I could not. And it seemed to tear him up inside, too.
"Well," Amia said, "if… if one future is guaranteed to fail, and another has a chance to succeed, it's an easy choice. In the world where we fail, Alex won't have to be like this for long anyway… right?"
Alex breathed softly. "Yeah." He looked down.
Amia pressed harder against Alex's side. "It's going to be okay, dear," she said. But the smile she offered didn't reach her eyes.
"…It's so cruel," Alex said with a rueful laugh. "I wouldn't be doing this if I thought we could still be together."
He regretted saying it as soon as he'd said it. But it spilled out, that thought rattling around his mind, for so long that he had to say it before meeting this hypothetical end. It was one of two regrets. No, three. And in that stunned silence Nate and Amia gave him, those regrets swirled all over again.
"Alex…" Amia held her chest with one hand. She looked pained, yet not hurt by his words. That pitying look… hurt Alex more than anything. The Shadows had taken Amia from them. What faced him today was only a recollection of what her spirit could rearrange. To anyone else… it was Amia.
But to Alex, it wasn't the same.
"I wish you could understand," Amia whispered.
"What?" Alex said.
"I…" Amia looked away. "No. It's… nothing. I'm sorry."
Nate looked between Amia and Alex. It was clear he wanted, desperately, to say something. Yet he didn't. Alex didn't know if he wanted to hear the unspoken words.
There wasn't any time. Every second wasted was another second Alexander could inflict the same pain Amia had suffered onto others. Another shattered spirit, pitifully rearranged to reforge hollow connections.
No more.
"I'm ready," Alex said. "I… I'm sorry if I won't see you again until you're far too different," he said to Amia. "I love you. I… I still do. I still do…" He loved what had been left behind.
"I…" Amia reached out to him one more time. Placed a hand on his cheek, then another behind his head. She pulled him closer. Their foreheads touched.
She was so warm.
For a moment, Alex tricked himself into thinking there was still a connection.
Maybe there was. But he told himself there wasn't. It was less painful that way.
"I'll miss you," Amia whispered, shattering his illusion. "Please wake up soon."
She let go. Alex stared at Nate, who remained silent again. In fact, the avatar of the Worldcore was completely inert. But he'd explained what had to be done already, so Alex drifted toward that constellation… and, unceremoniously, through its outer shell and into its core. He couldn't bear to look back until he'd gotten inside.
Inside, an overwhelming brightness covered all angles, with only a mumbling darkness to indicate the outside world. He saw hints of the prismatic tree roots, patches of the dark floor, and… Amia, staring at him. But he couldn't discern her expression.
"I'm ready, Nate," Alex said.
And as the constellations grew, as every star wiped away the smallest hints of the outside world… Alex thought he saw Amia reaching out toward him.
But then brilliant light blocked it all.
In the quiet that followed, Amia took a seat at the edge of the chamber, staring at the ball of light with a vice on her heart.
Nate's avatar, the little Goomy-Mimikyu, squeezed through a few tree roots and slid beside her.
Are you okay?
"…I've been better," Amia said quietly.
Do you want to return to the fight?
"…I know it's irresponsible of me," she said, "but I want to be here until I know for sure that Alex is… done."
Nate wobbled beneath the purple fabric of his false body.
I'm sorry.
"Nobody blames you."
I wish I had the power to change the rules again. I wish the gods had the time and knowledge to do the same. I wish Alexander was not so strong that these sacrifices were necessary. But…
"But that's how it turned out," Amia said.
Silence reigned again. It all felt so distant. They were too far away to feel the tremors of the battle, save for exactly once, when Nate quietly reported that Owen had dealt a strong hit, or some other great and devastating blow.
It's so hard to deal with, Nate said. I don't know how you do it.
"What is, dear?" Amia asked.
Emotions.
At that, Amia tilted her head. She glanced at Nate. "I'm sorry?"
…I was just… thinking about something. Never mind.
That gave her even more questions. One didn't think of something like that out of the blue. "You can talk to me," she offered.
Nate shifted his weight again, though Amia wasn't sure how much of that was a meaningful gesture.
Will you miss Alex?
"Oh." Amia wasn't expecting a gut punch. She glanced away. "Of course I will," she said. "I may not have all the memories sorted the right way, but… even when I was 'Evelyn,' he and I were so close. No matter what fraction of my memories are there… so is he. How can I not miss him?"
Did you think… if this was all over, everything was safe, and Alex didn't have to make this sacrifice… you would have tried again?
"I don't know how to answer that," Amia said. "Thinking about what could have been… hurts. All of this hurts. None of it's fair, I—" Her voice cracked. She took a steadying breath. Everything calmed again. "…I don't know how I truly feel about him anymore. But I know there's something that would have been worth trying again. And even if that fell apart… he would have been such a dear friend to me.
"Nothing will replace him."
Another faraway tremor knocked loose bits of dirt from the ceiling. Amia didn't mind it. She quietly prayed for good luck toward the Hearts.
Thank you for your honesty, Nate replied stiffly. He was definitely thinking a lot more. I'm sorry for asking. And… I need to do something now.
"What are you planning?" Amia pressed.
…Just doing my part as the Worldcore.
The fabric that had made up the Goomy cloth deflated. Rather than dissolve, it remained. It was merely there, now, inert and plain, made of the same material as the Tree of Life. Without thinking much of it, Amia picked up the cloth and inspected it curiously.
But Nate never came back. Left alone with her thoughts, Amia quietly closed her eyes and prayed that somehow, some way, whatever Nate was planning would give them another miracle.
"The army's thinning," Angelo's father said with a pleased huff. "And not our army, either."
"Y-yeah." Angelo's legs felt like jelly. He collapsed to the ground, barely able to keep a sitting position as his tail flopped beside him. Black paint stained the dirt all around him from countless sketches. Empty bottles of elixirs lay strewn about.
"I probably shaved off two years of my life today," Angelo whimpered. "But…" He clenched his fists. "I also feel like I've done more in this day than my whole life…"
"Nonsense." His father patted him strongly on the back, nearly flinging him into the dirt. "You've inspired countless Pokémon with your stories of heroism."
"Y-you know about… my comics?"
"Of course! Well, indirectly," he admitted. "Plenty of spirits who passed into New Kilo—ah, that's what we call our afterlife—chat about it. Always asking the most recent dead about the latest chapters."
Gods. He had fans in the afterlife? Angelo didn't know how to wrap his mind around that.
"And not just them." His father gestured to the army switching to recovery mode, exchanging healing equipment, distributing Heal Pulses and Life Dews… "I'm sure you've heard it. A few of our Hearts are shouting the same battle cries of your hero."
"…I… thought I was imagining that," Angelo admitted, heating up beneath his fur.
The senior Smeargle smiled brightly as he watched the dissipating Shadow Storm.
"You are not a fighter, son," he said. "But you're something just as important. You're someone meant for the rally."
"…Morale," Angelo completed. "Art, stories, ideas…"
"Fighting is pointless if it's not for some purpose. And not a lot of battle-born fighters are big thinkers. It could be as simple as the bond of companionship, knowing each other through an exchange of blows. But when fighting for a purpose, when fighting a war to save your home… When all darkens, morale and hope keep us marching."
Aramé had returned, looking worse for wear, as several healers gathered around her. Gira-Goodra Madeline, riddled with wounds and leaking ectoplasm from her wings, shouted orders for other Pokémon to fall back. It seemed that as the Void Shadows cleared out, the Hearts took the opportunity to regroup.
Xerneas was tired. He'd probably used his power more today than in the rest of Kilo's history. Angelo could relate…
"Void Shadows aren't showing up anymore," Angelo hummed. "Isn't that strange? I thought it was an immortal army."
"Alexander's running out of energy," Sera said.
"GAH!" Angelo flailed his arms, slapping Sera on the muzzle several times. The ghostly Zoroark was entirely unaffected.
"D-don't do that! Where were you?"
"Oh, uh, sorry. Forgot to turn off stealth mode there." She scratched her mane with a titter. "Anyway, I came to report something. Uh, while the army isn't coming, Alexander's still fighting hard. Owen's in big trouble. We don't know where Star is, and Alexander was winning up until Owen fused with Migami."
"Wait—fused? Three and one into four?" Angelo asked. He always thought such things could only happen in comic books, and yet…
"Yeah. Now they've become… something else. It's hard to get a read on it—the aura is flaring so much, and the core is all… melded together. Even aura experts can't make heads or tails of it."
"You're reporting this to us for a reason," Angelo's father said with a dutiful nod. "What is needed of us?"
"Help get the exhausted folks back to Kilo Village to recover. They're tapped out spiritually and mentally. The rest of us are gonna need one last boost before we dive in to finish off Alexander and give Migami-Owen some backup. Can y'do that?"
One last push. Angelo's heart fluttered. For the first time, he felt no fear. If anything, he was more determined than ever to make this final blessing count. He picked one of the last Elixirs in the pile, downing it in one swig.
It was time to bless the gods.
Mhynt kept her Leaf Blade always conjured. She sprinted across the ruined battlefield, hopping over mounds of Void ash, picking up speed to run past and Teleport through purple and red twisters, and finally, as the ground became more and more volatile, conjured her own shadow from the ground to give it form. The silhouette of a Lunala freed itself from its earthly prison. Mhynt stuck her Leaf Blade through the shadow's chest, but it felt no pain, and it ferried her into the skies.
She Teleported in a black fog along a thin black strand. It was the best she could do in this distorted landscape, a mocking facsimile of Ultra Wormholes in the past.
Far ahead, in one of the storms, Alexander and some powerful creature clashed. Alexander's aura alone was an overwhelming, cold knife in her chest and over her scales. This other aura was like being pelted by fiery boulders, leaving her winded and her shadow conjuration sizzling like meat over a fire. Every clash left a starburst of fissures in the ground, only to be overwritten by the next one seconds later.
This was the result of Owen's training, was it? And not just that, but blessings of so many, and the collaborative efforts of that team he'd made for himself. Team Alloy, the Trio of Mind… and Nevren's own research.
Mhynt's shadow brightened. A Chaotic blend of light and dark swirled inside of the Lunala projection; Mhynt flicked herself around the flier and onto its back. She stabbed her blade into the projection's spine as it gained altitude, flying higher and higher as they drew closer to the storm.
There!
She grasped her Leaf Blade and siphoned the Lunala into it. She was falling, but her stance was firm.
With a shout, Mhynt sliced through the air, creating a cleaving wave of energy from her blade that sliced the storm in two, disrupting its flow entirely.
"AAAAAGH!"
A direct hit on Alexander, too, as the other creature dodged it with a simple Teleport. No… not a Teleport. The other creature was simply fast enough to miss its movements with a blink.
Darkness bled out of Mhynt's scales and reformed into Lunala. She caught a wing and took a few seconds to regain a stable flight.
"Mhynt!" shouted an unfamiliar, booming voice.
"What?" Mhynt growled, climbing to the top of Lunala's shoulders. "Who are—" She gasped.
Writhing vines and flames danced on the lower half of the four-fusion abomination before her. Serious, reptilian eyes stared Mhynt down; their tusk edges bled in a way that its component Haxorus would have winced at witnessing. Four wings, powerful yet agile, stretched out behind them. Meganium, Charizard, Haxorus, Flygon.
"…What's your name?" Mhynt finally asked.
"No idea. Don't care." They turned toward Alexander. "Get on. You can't fight him like that."
The Treecko obliged, taking a position between their horns and dissipating her Shadow projection. "I'm calling you The Alloy, then."
"I'll take it." The Alloy raised their hand. Spiraling from their shoulders were countless Unown, see-through but slightly tangible. They encircled Mhynt, who suddenly found herself levitating off of The Alloy.
"You shouldn't be using Shadows," they chided.
"Diyem loaned it to me for resistance," Mhynt said.
"I know you don't like it."
"Is this really a time to debate the point?" Mhynt gestured to Alexander, who was trying to heal himself again. A huge, glowing gash remained etched on his side. Now that Mhynt thought about it… that gash was healing a lot slower than before.
"He's at his limit," The Alloy said. "But he's on guard right now."
"What?"
"I'm waiting for something."
"He's right there, how could you—"
But then a flurry of actions came all at once. Alexander, at seemingly reckless speeds, had closed the distant gap between them in less than a second, leaving shockwaves tinged in darkness behind him. The clash sent Mhynt pinwheeling backward, but the Unown stabilized her.
She ran her finger over several Unown as if flipping through files in a cabinet. She stopped at one. "Borrowing you," she muttered, grabbing an Unown that squeaked in surprise.
This was nostalgic.
She fastened her Leaf Blade to the Unown as if tying it there, and then pointed her blade at Alexander as he and The Alloy fought.
The Leaf Blade turned cold like ice, frost crawling over Mhynt's fingers. She pushed through the pain.
Just as she was about to fire, Alexander shifted positions and went behind The Alloy, who maneuvered between him and Mhynt's aim. She muttered a curse and waited… but Alexander was keenly aware of every move she was planning. How… annoying! What was he, psychic?!
Psychic. Right. She could do that. The heat of battle had left her frazzled.
Mhynt waited for Alexander and The Alloy to get into a lock with one another. She glanced at a spot behind Alexander and turned her body to point the blade away from him…
And then Teleported. In her new position, her blade pointed directly at Alexander's spine. She fired—the Unown squeaked in surprise as its Hidden Power turned the Leaf Blade into an icy dagger.
The impromptu Ice Beam-like attack froze Alexander's back solid. He roared in frustration and swiped at Mhynt, leaving a grazing blow on her chest and slapping her wrist hard enough to break it. Mhynt hissed and Teleported away again, the Unown keeping her steady.
But when she tried to aim again, Alexander already loomed over her, eyes fierce and presence blocking the sun.
And suddenly, it felt like she was in the Voidlands again, at his mercy, in a cold room or…
"Mhynt!"
The Alloy smashed into Alexander, sending him several meters away and down. Mhynt couldn't move. Her whole body had locked up; she still saw the cold obsidian of Alexander's bedroom, the withering leaves of her evolved body—
"Mhynt, get out of here," The Alloy commanded.
"What? I…"
"You can't fight him directly."
The words were like a bludgeon to her chest. They were right, they were real, but…
"I have to," Mhynt said.
"I have Mesprit's power in me, Mhynt. You can't do this right now."
"And Mispy's bluntness," Mhynt hissed, gaining enough sense to clench her fist. "I'm not backing down from—"
The Alloy suddenly roared and clawed at their own head, staring fiercely at Alexander before at Mhynt, who flinched at the abrupt mood swing. Alexander was staying away, like he was intentionally playing defense. So suddenly, too… Why the shift in attitude?
"It keeps happening," The Alloy hissed.
"He-ey!" called Sera down below. The ghostly Zoroark, riding atop an electric-yellow Pidgeot, waved them down. "Void Shadows're almost all gone! It's just Alexander now… They can't generate more while the sun's up!"
Leading ground forces was Zena, coordinating suppressive fire that kept Alexander dodging and unable to close in.
"Perfect." The Alloy looked down and sighed. "Because Owen has to go."
"Hu-wha?" Sera's mane flared, doubling her volume. "What are you talking about?! This is the finisher! You're the best person for it! Literal godslayer fusion! Are you nuts?!"
"It won't be enough. We can't predict it," The Alloy said flatly.
Mhynt stared at The Alloy. Even if only a fourth of them was Owen… she could still see the glint in their eye. Owen was not speaking out of fear or lack of confidence. He, through The Alloy, spoke with knowledge and certainty.
"And you want us to stall and try to beat him on our own until Owen deals with a separate problem. Is something powering him up?"
Alexander still wasn't coming. Occasionally, he emerged at odd intervals, only to hide again before The Alloy could get a proper blast on him. Others occasionally got chip damage with stray blasts or near-hits, but Alexander's defensive posturing was irritatingly effective.
"You could say that," The Alloy replied.
"For how long?" Sera asked.
"I need…" The Alloy glanced at the ground far below them.
Alexander was brewing something… He had the advantage now. Every second passed was a second where the sun was a little lower in the sky. A second closer to twilight when his powers would overwhelm the world.
"Two kilos. That's all," The Alloy concluded.
"Really. That's all?" Mhynt crossed her arms.
"Owen will be back by then. Can you endure that?"
"Planning anything?!" A pillar of darkness rotted the ground and spewed corroded earth like an abyssal volcano. They all scattered in different directions, though amid the chaotic blast, Alexander rushed toward Sera and fired point-blank.
"NO!" Mhynt cried.
"YES!" Sera countered, completely unharmed, as she jabbed sharp, Electrically-charged claws into Alexander's throat. "Get tazed!"
"GRRAAAAAAAGH!"
He yanked his head away and spiraled into the ground again, vanishing in a strange pool of molten Shadowy material that he'd transformed the ground into.
"T-tazed? What in the world is that?"
"Dunno, it's what Mu called that attack when I was practicing," Sera replied. "By the way, give that cute Smeargle, like, all the commendations when this is over."
"I… I see…"
The Alloy nodded. "Be careful. When Alexander gets very aggressive, go defensive. Tell everyone else the same. It's a pattern when he… gets very lucky for ninety seconds."
"Ninety…" Mhynt's eyes widened.
The Alloy nodded knowingly.
"Understood," Mhynt said. "Sera. Hold him off. More backup is coming." She glanced at the Unown spirits keeping her afloat and nodded. "Return to your host. I will be falling back." And then, as she fell and re-conjured her Lunala self, she called to Zena, "Control his options! Fire where he's looking!"
As Owen emerged from The Alloy, leaving Migami behind to keep Alexander busy, the army that remained after the Void Shadows' onslaught advanced. Zena conveyed information to other commanders while preparing a Hydro Pump to give Alexander something to think about.
It was nearly every able fighter in the world against a single Usurper.
Above them, the sun continued its slow crawl across the sky. Noon was finished. The day would only get colder from here, but the sun's radiance still bathed the world in light and powered through Alexander's storm.
They had to hold the line for two thousand seconds.
How hard could it be?