Rebeca’s eyes followed the other Avatar until he passed from view, then brought her attention back to Mihkail and Maya. Vuduin might consider a hug sufficient, but she did not; one day, she would repay that debt, and until then she would be sure to keep an eye out for that opportunity.

Speaking of debts… Her eyes narrowed as she took in the patches on the two Pokemon, I still owe somebody a beating for this. What happened?

Mihkail snorted. That Tantalus fellow. I was looking for you, figured those two big explosions were connected. When I got there, you were on the ground, and he was doing something to you. He glanced to the side. Things… escalated from there, and I got shot in the head. Next thing I remember is waking up in here. His gaze returned to hers, and she could tell that he was in no way apologizing. He threatened to kill you once. I wasn’t going to give him the opportunity.

For a long moment, Rebeca remained silent, though the air did heat up a fair bit. He is going to die.

He will. He’s also dangerous. A soft rumble came from Mihkail’s throat. We need to be smart about this.

Sighing, Rebeca nodded and leaned against the bed. Yeah. Just being able to take him isn’t going to be good enough. We have to wreck him. She winced, pressing her hand to her stomach. And I’m not in the best shape right now.

“You should be in bed.” Rebeca’s head jerked up as a nurse came into the room, seizing her arm and inspecting it closely. “Avatar or not, you had some very serious injuries. And you certainly shouldn’t be tearing out IV’s.” The nurse glared up at her. “What if you had broken off the needle in your arm? Hmm?”

Rebeca had been in a lot of fights over her life. She had once broken her hand because she made the mistake of punching Jimmy Farrow, who had been four years older than her at the time, in the forehead. When she was eight she had passed out after insisting on fighting Jeremiah Berkan and his entire gang at once (one of the few fights that she was still proud of winning). A little over a year ago she had had to stuff her guts back into herself after accidentally getting between an Ursaring and Teddiursa. In precisely none of those situations had she been remotely frightened. Cautious, certainly. And the hallucinations from that last injury getting infected had not been fun at all. But frightened? No.

But staring down at the short nurse holding her arm, only one thought was going through her mind: Damn, she’s scary. “Uuuh…”

The nurse huffed and went back to looking her over. “Well, since you’re on your feet, you must be feeling better. Your injuries look much better as well.”

Ignoring the mocking chuckles that echoed in her head, Rebeca scratched her neck, uncertain how to process this. “Um, yeah.”

“Well, I’d still like for Dr. Adams to look you over, and you’ll still have to fill out some paperwork, but otherwise, there shouldn’t be any other reason for you to stay here.” She glared up at the avatar again. “Provided you don’t get blown up by another Golem.”

I’m sorry, what?

Rebeca winced. Awe, crap.

You got what by a WHAT?

Sighing, Rebeca rubbed her eyes. Really wish she hadn’t said that. Look, can we talk about this later? “I’ll remember that for next time.”

The nurse gave her a slightly concerned look, her eyes flicking between the avatar and the Rhyhorn who now bore what could have been a very reproachful expression, then turned to leave. “By the way, a girl had dropped off a backpack, said she thought it was yours. It’s in your room.”

Rebeca nodded and followed her out, keenly aware of the glare Mihkail was giving her. Sure enough, her backpack was sitting in the corner of her room, and she immediately began rifling through it. Since she had burned up her previous set of clothes (and she had actually liked that shirt), all she was left with now was a light jacket and a pair of climbing shorts. Apparently she needed to go on a little shopping trip.

---

Emerging from the elevator (Maya comfortably ensconced in her backpack), Rebeca stepped out into the lobby, grimacing. Are you going to glare at me like that all day?

Until you explain the whole “got blown up by a Golem” bit.

Uuugh. He was going to explode anyway! I just made sure he didn’t blow up everything!

You’re still an idiot! You don’t go and get yourself blown up!

Mihkaaail. You’re making this a bigger deal then it actually is.

No, I think I’m making this exactly the right size of deal that it is. And the deal is that you are an idiot!

Rolling her eyes, Rebeca shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and headed off, Mihkail following her. And you’re a stubborn stone-head. There was just no arguing with her brother. And, if she was being honest with herself, she knew why he was angry with her. Getting blown up hadn’t been the smartest idea, but it had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, and there hadn’t been a lot of that to think with. She was still alive, still walking around, so she wasn’t going to waste time worrying about it.

Hearing a commotion, she paused and looked around, spying the crowd nearby. Huh. Wonder what that is about.

Mihkail came to stop behind her, following her gaze. I don’t know. He glared up at her. You’re still an idiot though.

Yeah, yeah, sure. Rebeca sighed, rubbing her head again. Well, they’re between us and the door. Guess we have to go through them.

@Eklispe@Salrynn@Zanavy

Tyson blinked in mild surprise at red-clad woman. He wasn't used to such curt responses to his flirting. But it only bothered the model for a second-- there were plenty of other pretty women in the world. The Avatar of Kyogre started to turn back toward the exit but froze when something... someone... caught his eye.

The red markings on Tyson's bulging arms flashed for an instant as he met the bold eyes of a tall woman in a jacket and shorts. His face burned with an uncomfortably warm flush, and his throat grew dry and tight. The blonde wrinkled his nose in an involuntary look of disgust. For that moment, it felt like he and that woman were the only people in the world... and even then, the world was too crowded.

That thing is weak now, Tyson found himself thinking. End it.

"What's with that weird look?" Marina's telepathic voice cut through. "Omigosh... is that your thinking face?"

Tyson blinked hard, the Wooper's verbal jab snapping him out of his trance. He immediately looked away, his expression turning to one of horror. How could he think such vicious things about a person, let alone someone he didn't even know? Those musings felt somehow... alien to him. The model had no idea what was going on here, but he knew it was really weird and he wanted it to go away.

The avatar quickly strode to the door, visibly shaken. Unfortunately, his getaway was foiled by the pack of squealing fangirls who had followed him inside. Tyson halfheartedly greeted and posed for the impenetrable barricade of women. All the while, he strained against the urge to look back at the stranger who felt like his enemy.

Vuduin was surprised by the large amount of people in the lobby, most of them swarming around some sort of model with impressive looking tattoos. Regardless it was of no concern to Vuduin, crowds never were. He was about to say something when a... impressive young women in a red dress that made him slightly uncomfortable merely looking at it and had eyes that were a startling shade of blue. "Excuse me, goodbye for now Rebecca." Vuduin said quickly and passed the girl, leaving her to her conversation with Rebecca. Vuduin walked past the model man, ghosting through the crowd, literally at times. He was going to his room, it had been a long day and he wanted to be somewhere quiet and alone.

Rebeca met the blonde man's gaze, and frowned as he pulled a face, like he had bitten into a long over-ripe Rawst Berry. Sheesh, what's HIS problem?

Mihkail watched as he attempted to leave, but was nearly mobbed by the crowd of girls. Dunno. You see those markings on his skin though? They flashed. He rumbled in his throat. Remind you of anyone?

Rolling her eyes, Rebeca shook her head. Another one, huh? Guess this place really is pulling them all out of the woodwork.

"Urm... excuse me, sorry for disturbing you. But I don't know where the toilet is, do you know where it is?"

She turned in surprise, and stopped dead. Her mouth suddenly went dry, and she found herself staring at the very, very, pretty blonde girl in the red dress gazing up at her. "Uuuh... I'm sorry, what?"

For a moment, Mihkail looked at the girl, then very slowly turned his gaze on his sister.

@Salrynn

Rebeca blinked, and her head jerked up to look around, her height turning out to be an advantage for once. "Right! Bathroom! Uuuhhh, iiittt'sss riiight..." she craned her neck, finally catching sight of the universal signs, "Over there."

Her eyes followed the girl as she hurried away. Huh. Must have really needed to go. An odd feeling began to filter through her mind, and she glanced down at a Mihkail, frowning as she noticed the intense way he was staring up at her. What're you staring at?

Mihkail slowly blinked. What was that?

What was what?

That.

She was asking where the bathroom was. So I told her.

Before that. The part where you forgot how to do words.

She surprised me, is all. Again, that odd feeling began to filter through Rebeca's thoughts, and was soon accompanied by echoing laughter. She glanced down again, glaring at her brother. What?

A low rumble came from the Rhyhorn's throat, like he was gargling gravel. You LIKE her!

Rebeca rolled her eyes. Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me. I just met her!

You know, I don't really see it myself. Too skinny. Girl needs to have some heft to her.

Shut up!

@Salrynn

Rebeca was in the middle of shouting down Mihkail in her head when the woman came back, and she swallowed. She really was pretty. Shaking her head, trying to ignore the mocking laughter, she put on a polite smile. It felt... unnatural. "Uh, sure, I guess. I don't really know my way around that well, but, if you wanted to join me that's fine. I was just heading out to get some stuff to wear. Mine kind of..." She hesitated, scratching at the back of her head. "got burned." Man, I really am shit at this, aren't I.

Yep.

Oh, shut up. Jabbing the Rhyhorn's side with her foot, she smiled again, then glanced towards the throng of girls blockading the door. "I think we may need to fight our way out though."

Your name.

What?

When a human gives you their name and asks for yours, it is usually considered polite to give yours.

Oh! Shit! "Uh, I'm Rebeca. Nice to meet you?" She winced inwardly, not meaning it to sound like a question.

You really are hopeless.

So help me, Mihkail, if you don't shut up I will put another crack in your skull.

@Salrynn

The trail of blood that had cascaded through the distorted space, acted as a strange pathway back to the real world it floated slowly, as you would expect a liquid to do in the depths of space.
Giratina let out a triumphant roar, that shook the very rocks that made up the land mass of this desolate place - finally he had taught that cocky Pokémon a lesson, one he would not learn anything from of course- as he would be dead.
The Pokémon of life, there were limits to even what that could achieve; the human body that it inhabited was equally arrogant, and as such the loss of Tantalus would have little effect on the world.

Giratina essentially sauntered back to the portal, if such a way of movement was possible with his graceless form - he was basking in his victory up until he peered back through the portal into the real world - there he spotted the top half of Xerneas’ body splattered upon the ground floor of Mauville like an ant after it met the boot of its better.
But, he could not confirm the end to his foes life without being above the body itself, he would not leave this to chance.
As his golden crown pierced through the portal, and closely followed by the rest of his colossal form, his eyes narrowed at a beam of light that came from below- time seemed to freeze still.
Thoughts raced across his mind, and they all lead to the inconceivable notion that Xerneas had managed to survive; but not only survive but have the necessary energy and power to yet cast another attack at him - but that wasn’t the reason he was in a state of shock and absolute horror of the situation that he was faced with - he was mid transit through his portal - it was unavoidable, this attack could have a cataclysmic effect on him and from what he had seen from Xerneas and even his former owner- Tantalus, that insolent wretch would have put everything in that last attack, even the energy needed to survive, just to spite him - just to have that last say.
The problem here, was that it would have that effect…
This was it. The end. Game over…

And then. It happened, as time resumed its natural course, another stream of energy hit Xerneas’ attack , and it had came from a small child that he now recognised as Kaze- the once dazzling intense energy dimmed considerably, it had lost a lot of power as a direct result of this and once it struck Giratina, square in his chitinous hide on his underbelly it exploded with a burst of fluorescence energy that was excruciating, the bastard had somehow managed to form an Ice based attack, if that had been at full strength, he feared as to just what would have happened.
Kaze, would never understand his mistake.

The sheer naivety of his actions had two very real consequences: One, Giratina had likely survived because of it - he was now indebted to the little boy in time, he would pay it back.
And two - the death of Xerneas, there was a chance that Xerneas could have escaped all this despite being in half, and lived; but now, his fate was sealed.

After Giratina had shaken off the attack; the pain still throbbing through his body, he made his way down to the building and stopped above his pray.

---

It took every ounce of energy left to remain conscious after that last attack. A singular spiraling strand of varicoloured light streaked up into the sky and the dark, gaping maw above. Swelling pride and anticipation began to build, as the beam drew closer to it’s target.

You know what they say about pride before a fall.

The all-too mortal heart within his frame lurched, as Xerneas watched multiple small blue-white spheres crash into the stream of light, creating a whirlwind explosion of colours which bathed the entire area with a mind-bendingly gorgeous show. Even that couldn’t quell the sheer horror, now fully present within the Avatar. Some energy escaped the clash, but not nearly enough to even slow Giratina. It was over. Checkmate.

His eyes drifted to the source of the counter-attack, and found the child. Kaze. Undone by a-. The thoughts faded, as what anger sparked into being slipped through his grasp as though water. Something faint stirred from deep within, and then came a voice, soft as butter.

“So. It ends like this.” It’s tone more delicate than ever, but the source unmistakable, nonetheless.

Xerneas spoke the words, trying to gather answer by gathering thoughts proving too difficult, as the haze of pain and blood loss thickened. “Come to gloat, Tantalus? I thought such acts beneath you.”

Again, no mocking voice nor sudden quip. “They are, under the circumstances. Of all the times to be difficult, this is not one of them.”

“Then why are you here? Answer me that.”

Slow and steady, a warmth spread out within him. “To keep you company, in your-” Tantalus paused, realising his mistake. “In our dying moments.”

Each word hammered into Xerneas, nails into a coffin. Before him, the scene clearly played out, and the finality of it all sunk in. Bitter defiance welled, and slipped away just as the anger had. “I...I can’t...”

“Don’t give me that. It’s easy.” Despite the content of the sentence, it wasn’t meant with malice. The man even chuckled a little at the end. Xerneas managed to retain the anger this time.

His voice was a ragged, horrible thing, now. “How can you be so calm, you mortal fool?” Words almost howled out, but instead found themselves a dull whisper, filled with venom and despair.

Another chuckle. “People in glass houses. You look pretty mortal to me, right now.” Tantalus sighed. “Look. I’m not calm, but if you can see any way out of this, feel free to act on it. That ice isn’t going to hold much longer, because our body heat is melting it. Once it goes, we’ll be dead in minutes, at maximum. So perhaps, for however long we have left, we can just talk.”

Xerneas felt all manner of emotions building inside. Wanting nothing more than to scream them all away, but unable to muster even the most basic whimper, he tried swallowing them. A futile attempt, because there was nowhere they could be stored. No later date to promise an in-depth appraisal. Anything not dealt with here and now was gone, forever more. Pain. Hatred. Bitterness.

Fear.

He was scared, for the first time in his centuries long existence, he was scared. “I am Life. How can I die? That is a paradox if any singular thing is.”

“Look at what you have done, of late. What we have done.” A few wistful seconds rolled by, before Tantalus continued. “Death on every corner, and you reap what you sow.” The image of a somber, knowing smile flashed briefly into his mind’s eye.

Genuine tears burned his eyes, as the revelation set in. Over the course of the last few days, he had broke almost every tenant Life itself was supposed to stand for, either by himself or using Tantalus as a proxy. That terror within wasn’t because of his death. He had experienced that before. It was down to the uncertainty, by going against his nature, would his power ebb too? Was it possibly that death this time would be permanent?

A purple orb lay just out of reach, splinters running along its edges, and a single chunk cleanly cut out. It was the remains of a Life Orb, the one which Tantalus had been holding onto for many years. Xerneas scoffed at the divine joke, engineered by Arceus himself, no doubt. Energy trickled out, as a deep hunger could be ascertained from within. A result of its ruined state.

Quietness rolled on for what seemed like an age. “Thank you. After everything, I’m surprised at your presence.”

He laughed again, but it was cheaper, broken with a little pause, Enough to mark it as forced. “You aren’t the only one who is scared by the prospect of death, Xerneas. Although, for the record, this isn’t how I’d imagine I would go. Too cold.”

“That is my fault, is it not?” He allowed himself a laugh, half deranged at this point, and Tantalus joined in. “Any regrets?”

Tantalus whistled. “We don’t have time to go over them all, i’m afraid. The biggest one is starting down a bad path, I suppose. After all, without that, none of this would have happened. You?”

Nodding, “A major one. I’m sorry we can’t fix what I did to your Mawile.”

It took the voice some time to answer again. Tantalus hadn’t missed the wording. “What I did.” Memories of all the time the two had spent together stirred up a great deal of pain, even confined to the recesses of his own mind, but now wasn’t the time to hold grudges. No matter how bad. “Yea,” he croaked. “Me too.”

Giratina was now floating above Xerneas’ broken body - however, what he anticipated he would see on the man's face, was not there; he instantly expected his foe to spit out some snarky comments and quips as soon as Giratina was in range to hear them.
But no.
Deep thought was etched into the face of Tantalus, the sort of face that contemplated - not schemed endlessly to try and find a way out.
It did not seem possible but his adversary was actually admitting defeat - Giratina had anticipated resistance to the bitter end.

Turning his head towards the cowering boy that was Kaze; Giratina spoke in his rasping demonic voice.
“Thank you, Kaze - you saved me and for that I owe you a debt - but; you also condemned Xerneas to death in the process.”

Turning back to his foe he looked down with a confliction of emotions raging in his head.
He had secured victory, but it felt hollow.

Echoing, the voice snapped the duo back to their combined senses, seeing the end looming above. Xerneas was now almost limp, having given up entirely. Tantalus, on the other hand, had one final idea. “Hey, Xerneas. Can you give me control? Let’s give them one last hurrah for ol’ times sake.”

Hearing his request, and lacking the spirit to argue, Tantalus took his rightful place at the reins of his own body once more.

“I’m surprised. I half expected you to try and save your own hide; rather than give up and throw one last ditch effort in - albeit, one that may very well have killed me in the process;
kudos for that - but inevitably it has done little other than secure your fate.”

Harsh, rasping chuckling - broken with the occasional cough - rose up from his shredded form. “Well, I don’t like to disappoint. A disagreement on one part, however. That little showboating stunt has secured my place in history.” Reaching over ever so slightly, if one could call it a reach, rather than a limp half-roll to the side, Tantalus’s hand landed firmly on the purple broken Life Orb. Dark hunger lapped at his very being, and it drew a smirk. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Giratina gave a short snort of laughter at this - even the futile attempt at grabbing the life orb was in some way hysterical, the fall from grace this being has endured is something that history would indeed capture.
“On that note we reach a consensus - but history will remember only the fall of your legend - as that is the only noteworthy moment of your entire existence.”

“Oh come now, hardly the only one. Not even the only one today.” Putting slight pressure on the orb, as weak as his grasp was, the cracks splintered further. How quaint a comparison. “They’ll talk about this day for centuries, in fables and legends that will stoke up the masses, one way or another. You don’t understand, do you? That Alliance from the attack. Soon they will see that we are not immortal gods to be feared or worshipped. We are people, the same as them, with some fancy clothes, ideals and powers.”

“But people can be killed.”

“True, your death will bring an inexplicable truth to the would be Gods that we are; we can die, same as anything else - although the amount of damage and energy exerted merely to kill you just goes to show the sheer level of strength it takes to do so - so, what are you, a matyr? A lesson? Or the beginning of something greater? What do you think your death will bring, Xerneas.”
Giratina was not usually this talkative to ilk of those whom would insult and attack him, yet there was truth to this dieing deities words- his death was a monumental occasion, that could bring about both good and bad things the plague that arceus himself can’t stop claimed the first ever lives of Legendaries.
And here… was Giratina, claiming the first ever Legendary Pokémons life through his own means, it was of great significance.
He was right on that front.

Life was fleeting from him, and fast. Not long now, but long enough, Tantalus thought, with the same conviction with which he had pulled himself up from the gutters of Canalave City, and every encounter since. It would take him to the end. “Yes. A lesson. The beginning of a new age, and that’s not some pointless drivel. Mauville was already centre stage, with the eyes of the world on it. This is what they see.”

Giratina narrowed his eyes and shifted his forme, three of his tendrils aligned themselves along his side; it was time.
“And they will witness something of grave importance; prepare yourself Xerneas, it’s time to end this once and for all; know that the biggest mistake you made was crossing a being that you could not comprehend.”

A somber smile stretched across Tantalus’s lips. “No. Not my biggest, by far, but certainly my last.” Flopping over to face Giratina directly, and now lying on his back, he raised his right hand slightly for it would go no further. It was only now that Xerneas realised what his host was up to. From his left, the cracked Orb began to glow a fierce dark purple. A brilliant ball of light flared into being suddenly, but as the dark hunger took what little life remained, it flickered out just as quickly. As the light vanished, his left hand fell lifelessly, the Orb silent once more as it shattered on the cold ground of Mauville city.

What was this fool planning now - he had nothing left, the power he drawn from the remnants of that life orb would grant him nowhere near enough power to do any harm.
“What are you…”

The fallen Avatar began to glow. At first, it was soft, barely visible. It grew with startling rapidity, and within a few seconds, the entire top-half of the man was entirely constructed from an ethereal sky-blue light. All at once, the gathered light exploded into a whirlwind, forming a single solid column which slammed into Giratina’s chest, directly upon the patch of weakened and splintered chitin. From the floor below, strands of the crystalline light pierced through the roof, finding purchase in the water mains and stone, wrapping around tightly.

At the tip of the column, however, more of the blue light was storing. It reached a critical mass almost instantly, and lances of brilliant light tore through Giratina, lifting him ever so slightly.

The entire escapade that Xerneas went through took Giratina by surprise, he used his own life force to power this last attack; and it hit like a truck; the initial beam landed in his weak spot forever scarring it and preventing him in the future from ever growing his chitin there; he would always be marred with chink in his armour thanks to Xerneas; a permanent reminder and trophy of his fight.
The damage was heavy but the multiple spears of light of energy that hit him afterwards was too much - he could no longer hold his form and would shortly begin turning back to the human prison, the victory Giratina scored had just be downgraded to a pyrrhic one.

As he reeled back and came free of the lances, several snapped off and fell to the floor. The construct fully came into view, then. A shimmering blue tree, about four feet in height on the trunk. Five branches reached skyward, and each of the remaining branches had two more angled in random directions bringing the total to around six feet overall. The tree was barren of any flowers or leaves, but was a miraculous sight to see. Light washed over the surface, as though coming from inside, at it starkly contrasted to the dark red blood of Giratina running softly down the bark.

Giratina only had a few moments to spare gazing at the odd tree before him; an edifice for the Pokémon of life; a tree - how apt.
But the sheer amount of damage Giratina has taken was too much - within a few seconds; preceding a shrill scream that was Giratina's roar, a burst of dark energy swept over the area and a naked and bloodied body of Germaine hit the solid ground with a thump.
It wasn’t until Germaine looked up and gazed at the tree through hazy eyes that he noticed the natural blue crystalline look of it being tainted by the dark light that pierced through the gaping roof; and at that moment just before he lost consciousness the portal snapped shut with a deafening boom; the natural light from the afternoon soon sent a rainbow light across the destroyed street; this tree would remain there for time immemorial, a permanent reminder to all about a very specific lesson.
Gods, can die - but not only that , it is that these Gods hold power beyond comprehension, and their motives will not always be in the interest of man.

---

From the comfort of a cordoned-off hotel balcony within the exclusion zone surrounding the Alliance’s assault, two figures observed the remains of the latest bloodshed with quiet interest. From their lofty vantage point, , the Tree of Life could be plainly seen, as could the broken and exposed form of Germaine lying nearby. Several paramedics and somewhat terrified police officers could be seen scrambling around, struggling in vain to cope with the storm of chaos below. Tourists and especially reporters were pushing up to the barriers, struggling to steal a glance of the two Avatars who had laid waste to their city.

The leather-clad woman gazed down imperiously at the streets before them, nose turned up at the stench of blood. “The worm hasn’t changed in the slightest, I see,” she noted scornfully.

With a hint of amusement, the neatly-tailored man’s honeyed voice poured forth. “I don’t know - it seems to be rather more limp that I remember it last.” Without sparing her companion a glance, the woman absentmindedly jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, prompting a rueful chuckle from the man. “I won’t say that I didn’t deserve that.”

Right hand reaching into his jacket, it produced a fine cigar. Placing it into his mouth, he rummaged around in the pockets until the distinctive rattle of a box of matches could be heard. Fishing them out, and striking one cleanly against the side of the box, he lit the cigar. “So,” he said, before taking a long, satisfying drag and blowing the smoke into the crisp air. “How much of the mess will we need to clean up ourselves?”

The woman gazed thoughtfully at the carnage before them, chewing her lip absentmindedly while she considered. “It seems almost certain that we’ll have challengers now. If a second-rate maggot is seen to have bested one of the Pantheon, and a proud one to boot, then dissidents will gather like flies to a corpse.”

Contented silence reigned for a moment, as the man simply took a deep breath in through his nose. The surrounding air was filled with a multitude of smells, acidic tones of scorched earth, full and slightly floral scents of tobacco, and that unmistakable metallic twang of blood. Staring at the tree, his stomach knotted - whether its cause was sorrow, anticipation or indigestion wasn’t clear. “Might not be a bad thing,” he noted, “making a definitive example of them. If we do it right, well… Fear is a powerful tool.”

“For a conqueror, perhaps, but adoration needs nothing to sustain it.” The woman gestured at the shattered pavements beneath them - hardly recovered from the previous battle against the human militia before being desecrated further by bloodshed. “Unless you want to be responsible for clearing up dissidents for centuries, which I rather doubt, it seems prudent to choose a more low-maintenance approach.”

Mouth curving slightly into a smirk worthy of a viper, his tone was dripping with barely concealed whimsy. “That’s what I have you for, my dear,” he said, gesturing to her with the cigar.

With an exaggerated pout, the woman clutched both hands over her chest in mock heartbreak. “Is that all that I am to be, then? Nought but a pretty figurehead?”

Taking another drag from the cigar, the smoke rolled out as he spoke. “Nothing so mundane, I assure you. An extremely pretty figurehead.”

The woman rolled her eyes languidly, lips twitching under the strain of a barely-restrained grin . “Whereas your head will be used for gargoyles, my dear,” she remarked mockingly.

Grinning shamelessly, the man shook his head before replying in an amused tone. “Now that was simply uncalled for.” With his eyes fixating firmly upon the chaos below, he inhaled another breath of thick smoke, mulling over old memories. “Adoration and fear are both perfectly viable options, but the real success comes from mixing the two. Those insurgents from earlier have one part down.” He blew out the smoke, before turning to face the woman. “How long before they figure out the other?”

She raised an eyebrow skeptically in response. “Soon enough for their obituaries, perhaps, but I wouldn’t count on it. The poor darlings simply don’t have our experience yet.” At the thought, an arrogant smirk crossed her face as fond recollections drifted into the foreground. “In fact, the real question is whether or not they’ll even have time to-”

The moment was shattered as her phone began buzzing incessantly, earning a scowl and an irritated snort from the woman. “As much as I’d love to stand around and appreciate the horticulture, we’d best be leaving. Our reservation’s in five minutes.”

Eyes swinging back to the scenes below, it was impossible for the man to conceal his displeasure at the timing, and it reflected in the irritated tone his voice inherited. “I might hang around for a while, gauge the public reaction to the recent… disruptions.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Morbid curiosity.”

The woman tutted impatiently. “You can indulge yourself later - the dinner won’t wait.”

Giving a single vexed grunt, he contemplated his half-smoked cigar. “Shame. I hate to waste a perfect moment.”

Taking the cigar in his right hand, he rolled it fondly back and forth a few times, stealing a final glance at the streets below. With a regretful sigh, he clenched his hand into a fist, crushing the still-burning cigar without any noticeable discomfort. After a rapid series of violent crunches, he unfurled his fist to reveal a mound of neatly-powdered dust. A brilliant cobalt glow encompassed the mound of dust - with a gentle whoosh of displaced air, the fragments reassembled into a fresh cigar, identical to its previous condition.

Slotting it into the pocket just inside the jackets left side, he swiveled on a heel, offering a hand and ironic bow to the nearby figure. A smile danced across his lips as their eyes met. “My lady.”

Beaming with merry satisfaction, the woman spread the tails of her leather jacket in a mock curtsey, then took his offered hand.

She closed her eyes.

With a bellowing thunderclap, a rift tore open the air in front of them, blossoming swiftly into a cherry-pink portal that hung against the backdrop of the cityscape, shimmering and gleaming with all the pink and purple hues of a summer sunset. The pair of them stepped forwards as one and disappeared as the portal engulfed them. Moments later, the portal collapsed into a pinprick and vanished, leaving nothing but the acrid smell of ozone and thunderstorms in their wake.

The events played out in slow motion. Xerneas smashed the orb in his hand, and Giratina made to move, but it was already too late. A massive burst of light forced Kaze to avert his gaze, and when he returned to looking at the scene, a shimmering tree stood where Tantalus’ body had been only moments ago, and where the monster had loomed, now lay a bloodied Germaine.

Kaze rushed over, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. “Tantalus!” he cried out, trying to find a way to somehow open the tree and free his friend. Yet, in the midst of his toils, a voice stopped him.

“It is too late, Kaze.”

“Suicune? You have to help me get to Tantalus! He’s--”

“It is too late. He is gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“The tree which stands before you is Tantalus. The power of Xerneas has allowed him to take this form rather than experience true death. However, this comes with a great cost.”

“A cost?”

“Xerneas, and therefore Tantalus, will be trapped within this tree, almost as in a prison. The duration of his stay will be for as long as he needs to recover. In the past, this has lasted as much as a thousand years. Sometimes more. However, this tree will serve to give life to the people around it. Mauville may consider itself blessed to have such a power within itself, despite the destruction wrought in its coming about.”

“And what about Germaine?”

“Though his wounds are terrible, being so close to the Tree of Life will ensure he survives until someone who can heal him can arrive. There is nothing you can do for them that Xerneas has not done himself. It would be best for you to leave here and allow those who are more capable do their jobs.”

“Suicune?” Kaze asked as he began moving mournfully away from the scene of the battle.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want any more of my friends to be hurt like this. I’m going to become stronger like you. I’m going to protect them.”

“You have a good heart, young Kaze. You may be able to achieve what you desire, but for now, I must return to my slumber. If you are in need of anything, you need only ask.”

“Thanks, Suicune. Good night,” Kaze wished.

Suicune gave a low chuckle before replying, “Good night, young Kaze.”

---

Needing some time to think alone, Kaze stepped out of Mauville onto Route 117. Various triathletes and Pokemon Trainers filled the landscape, all training for their individual goals. Kaze, however, made his way to the edge of a small pond on the southern edge of the Route, where he kicked off his shoes and socks before dipping his feet in the water, the chill that followed sending shivers up Kaze’s spine.

He hadn’t been in his spot long before a mobile red silhouette became visible beneath the water’s surface. And it was moving toward him.

Jumping up and getting out of the water, Kaze took a couple of steps backward. As soon as he did, a small red and white Pokemon resembling a crawdad scuttled up onto the grass near him. “What do you think you’re doing, stinking up my pond with your feet like that! Just because I can survive in dirty water doesn’t mean I enjoy the filth,” the Pokemon scolded, snapping its claws violently at him, not noticing that the area Kaze had touched the water was now slightly purer than before.

“I-I’m sorry,” Kaze stammered, not knowing how to react to being yelled at by a Pokemon. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Wait,” the Pokemon wondered. “Did you actually understand me?”

“Yeah,” Kaze responded, mentally this time. “It’s a gift my friends and I all share. I can talk to Water-Type Pokemon.”

“Hold on, those markings on your arms, and you can talk to me. . . . You wouldn’t happen to be . . . one of those Avatars, would you?”

“I am. Kaze, Avatar of Suicune. What kind of Pokemon are you?”

“Last I checked, I was still a Corphish. But . . . Suicune, you say? Can he hear me through you as well?”

“I don’t know. He seems to like sleeping, though.”

“Hmm . . . mind if I tag along with you? Less because of you and more because any Pokemon would be a fool to pass up a chance to be near Suicune.”

Kaze wasn’t sure what to do. “I’d love to have you, but I don’t have any Pokeballs with me.”

“Don’t have any--! Well, looks like you’re lucky today. Do you know how many people have lost spare balls in this pond? Just a moment . . .” The Corphish disappeared under the water for a moment again before resurfacing with a seaweed-wrapped Pokeball that it dropped at Kaze’s feet. “Might be a bit rusty,” it explained, “but it should still work.”

But Kaze had begun to stare off into space. “Hey! Earth to Kaze! You gonna catch me or what?” the Corphish yelled again.

“Sorry,” Kaze apologized. “Trying to think of a nickname for you.”

“Oh, so you’re one of those trainers. Well? Whaddya got?”

“How do you like the name ‘Sushi’?”

No words could truly describe the Corphish’s reaction. It bellowed a single syllable of its name more than loudly enough to disturb many of the triathletes in the vicinity; its already baseball-sized eyes seemed to get even wider (if that was even possible); and its mouth dropped open as far as one could imagine possible, plus one or two inches.

“DO YOU HAVE NO CREATIVITY?!” the Corphish finally screamed after a few moments of awkward silence.

“I take it you don’t like the name.”

“That’s a massive understatement! You named me after FOOD! Would you like me calling you ‘Steak’?”

“Okay. Then I’ll try again.”

“Arceus help me . . .”

“Is ‘Sir Crabsalot’ any better”

“What kind of game are you playing?!”

“So not that one either. . . . Then maybe ‘Clabber’?”

The Corphish was silent for a moment before it responded, “Will you stop if I agree to it?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, let’s go with that. Now let’s battle and have you catch me before I decide being around Suicune isn’t worth this.”

“Alright. I’ll be battling you myself, rather than using Jingle,” Kaze explained. “It’ll be a Water versus Water battle!”

“I’m getting permission to beat the tar out of my future trainer? Not to often that happens! I’m in!”

Kaze started the battle with Tailwind, using it to his advantage to move around Corphish at an incredible speed. And it worked exactly as he planned. He was able to outmaneuver the entirety of Corphish’s Bubble Beam. Knowing that it would be best to counteract a Water-Type Pokemon with something other than more Water, he directed the airflow into a small spiraling Gust attack which struck Corphish directly.

Corphish wasn’t easily dazed, though, and simply used his aerial position to put extra force behind a falling Double-Edge attack. Kaze waited until last minute to dodge, but to no avail. Clabber anticipated the trick and whirled midair and struck Kaze in the gut. However, in ensuring it hit, the Pokemon tumbled to the ground as Kaze doubled over. Then, before Kaze could regain his wits, Clabber’s claw opened and unleashed another Bubble Beam. But rather than feeling pain when they collided with him like he expected, Kaze actually felt refreshed, and the pain in his stomach began to subside.

The Corphish realized its mistake too late. Kaze, with a smirk, fired an invisible force of mental energy through his Extrasensory attack, sending Clabber reeling. By the time it managed to get its feet back underneath it and began throwing a wall of Protect in front of itself to avoid further damage, Kaze’s Hydro Pump was already barreling its way to weaken Corphish the rest of the way.

The Ruffian Pokemon was barely upright when Kaze shouted, “Pokeball, go!” and sent the small red and white ball whizzing through the air. The sphere collided with the Corphish’s forehead before snapping open and absorbing its target. As soon as Clabber was within, the mechanical orb locked itself shut again with a small spark, shook once, then fell still, signaling the capture of its target.

Walking over to the Pokeball, Kaze grabbed it tight and held it up to the light of the sun, admiring the reflection off of the water-polished sphere. I did it, Kaze thought before pocketing his catch and marching triumphantly back toward Mauville.

For several seconds, the dozens of brave onlookers stood frozen, still stunned in the aftermath of the deadly battle between legends. Then, like the opening of a floodgate, everyone rushed forward at once to get closer to the carnage. Reporters nearly trampled each other to get the best footage- including one cameraman with a deep scar across his nose who had covered the end of the battle for a live newscast played throughout Mauville City.

The media was soon forced back by a team of medics and police officers. Along with Kaze, some of the response team attempted to get Xerneas/Tantalus out of the tree. One officer was well informed about Kalos legend and grimly explained Xerneas's fate to the shocked medics.

Meanwhile, another officer approached the broken body of Germaine. Medics worked quickly to stabillize the man with whatever Pokemon and human healing skills they had on hand. His wounds looked terrible. Any normal person would be dead within a few minutes. But that was just the issue...this was not a normal person. Germaine/Giratina had proven himself to be quite dangerous, both in physical strength and violent attitude. That was why the officer's next words were so crucial-- and frightening.

"Avatar of Giratina," the redhead cop stated. Her words rang out with a little more force than necessary, as if the woman was trying to cover up nerves. A small part of her hoped the avatar was too dazed to undersand her.

"You've been injured in a battle. You're in good hands now, and the medics will take you to the nearest Pokemon Center in a few minutes. Your full recovery is of the utmost importance. Once you have recovered, you will be taken into custody. You are under arrest for murder and destruction of public property."

A cacophany of different senses beat into Germaine, they were foreign- it felt as if he had slept after a long night of drinking, the smell of charred rock found Gemraines nose, the sound of a thousand people talking and clamouring around made their way to his ears - the taste of blood; that bitter iron on his toungue.

And pain - it felt dull; as if he were disembodied from the areas that were either bleeding or plain broken.

And as faint as the reality before him a voice echoed in his head - " Germaine... so all it took for you to rise again was for me to fall - welcome back to reality human, I'm afraid you'll have my mess to contend with."

After uttering a grunt and a failed attempt to remain concious his body went limp - not dead, simply exhausted.

After all this time Germaine had finally resurfaced, the human was now once again back in control of his body, naturally Giratina was still there; a ticking time bomb threataning to go off at any time in the future, he was locked once again in another prison, but this one was one he could escape from.



The aftermath of the parade was covered as live news throughout Hoenn. Twenty-six humans and Pokemon had been reported injured in the attack, some still in critical condition. Fortunately, few deaths were reported, and all but two of those were members of the Alliance. None of the hooded attackers had been found, but a rabble rouser near the end of the parade route had been arrested. No information has been released as to whether or not she is related to the Alliance.

In the midst of images of wrecked floats and interviews with authorities, live footage of a destructive battle was captured. Much of the fight was missing, but one cameraman managed to catch the dramatic finale up close. The avatar of Xerneas was declared dead at the scene, while the avatar of Giratina remained in critical condition. About an hour later, authorities claimed Germaine/Giratina was recovering and would be arrested for murder when he was healthy enough to leave the hospital. Viewers were cautioned to keep an eye out for this violent avatar and run if they saw him out in public, but assured that the authorities of Mauville City knew what they were doing and would protect every citizen and guest.

After another hour of waiting, the streets of Mauville were finally declared safe enough to resume the festival. Droves of guests gratefully poured from the crammed buildings they had been stuck in. Some immediately headed toward the city's edge, eager to leave before another catastrophe took place. The more dedicated fans stayed behind, struggling to reclaim a happy atmosphere after their afternoon of terror. Several worried people rushed around, desperate to find loved ones they had been separated from in the chaos.

Large, obnoxiously bright yellow signs were soon posted all over the city, detailing the festival's new schedule. Several events had been pushed back to later times, while a couple expected to draw large crowds had been cancelled altogether. The highly anticipated Tournament of Legends would still take place, but the signs detailed many changes to the plans. First, as a gesture of respect to the avatars who had fought and been injured in the parade attack, the first round of the tournament had been postponed to 10:00 the next morning so the competitors would all have a chance to recuperate and fight on equal ground.

Also, to the dismay of the public, the location was changed. The tournament was moved from the main battle stadium to the fourth floor of the city's basement as a safety measure. Only competitors in the tournament, volunteers, and important sponsors were allowed in the basement during the battles. A team of tech experts worked swiftly to set up a live broadcasting system in the basement so everyone could view the tournament from the comfort and safety of their own hotel rooms, along with dozens of public buildings.

The rest of the evening passed much more calmly and quietly than the previous one. Some guests chose to stay in the safety of their hotel rooms until morning. Others continued to wait anxiously in Pokémon Centers or hospitals, praying their loved ones would recover from their injuries. Those least affected by the parade attack continued to smile, to laugh, to explore, and to take excessive amounts of selfies-- but even their cheerful moments were strained, tainted by the horror that had ensued earlier that day. As evening faded to night, many got the feeling the festival would've ground to a halt... if it weren't for the main event tomorrow.



At first glance, the sprawling Mauville City looked like a ghost town. Few people wandered the streets that morning. The charred wreckage still left after the parade attack added a further eerie touch to the scene. But inside every room, life hummed with excitement and anticipation. Families still in comfy pajamas glued their eyes to their televisions, while rowdy crowds in public viewing areas shouted praises for their favorite avatars and placed bets.

Two concrete tunnels led down to the basement-- one near the northernmost point of the city and one near the southernmost point. Each entrance swarmed with uniformed guards who let nobody near the area unless they were on an approved list. The guards immediately stepped aside as a portly man approached. Though Mayor Mayer looked physically and mentally drained, he still gave each guard a light smile as he passed into the tunnel.

The mayor had chosen the southern entrance... a wise choice, since this was the one with the elevator. He stepped out into a thin hallway and made his way to a massive room carved out of the rock. Two arenas filled most of the cavern. Though they were rarely used for official battles, both battlegrounds conformed to standard league specifications. They were large enough for all but the most extravagant of battles, and shining stage lights illuminated the cavern almost as brightly as the morning sun lit the floors above ground.

I imagine it must hurt more to battle on that solid rock, though, the balding man mused, grimacing slightly at the cold, rough stone floor. As much as I love meeting the avatars, I'm glad I don't have to be one!

Mayor Mayer soon spotted a makeshift cluster of folding chairs along the wall farthest away from the arenas. He found one reserved for him and tiredly plopped into the chair, which creaked slightly under his weight. From this vantage point, the mayor could see the avatars in the distance, waiting on the sidelines for their battles to start. Everyone who planned to compete had checked in, and some were talking amongst each other. The mayor watched them and wondered whether their conversations were friendly or unfriendly.

Vuduin had visited the location of the battle between the two legenderies soon after he left the hospital. The scene there and the explanation of the previous events were appalling. On top of the attack from the alliance to have two avatars duke it out. It wasn't the best day for the town. Vuduin of course began helping out as best he could, helping find people buried under rubble, clean the streets, search for lost valuables, and anything else that needed doing. Then as professionals moved in Vuduin melted away to his hotel room and waited there, the TV glowing in the otherwise dark room, tuned to a local news station. It was mostly white noise, Vuduin paid attention every now and then but for the most part focused on making sure the nightmares stayed in check. The festival was going poorly enough already, the least he could do was make sure the town's sleep wasn't disturbed anymore.

The next morning Vuduin arrived at the underground tournament well before the suggested time and took stood on the sidelane, examining the arena. It was quite interesting, Vuduin hadn't seen a place quite like this before. Hopefully the fights going on here would be slightly less... significant then yesterday. Vuduin once again pondered the wisdom in this. At best it was providing entertainment, which wasn't too bad of a thing in it of itself. Well that and Vuduin was somewhat eager to see how he'd hold up in an actual fight. Of course he'd been in a scuffle or two before, what young boy hadn't after all? But something like this was on a whole different level. With the odd jobs he did, mostly manual labor, Vuduin wasn't short on muscle and some of his late night escapees had given him some experience in the battling department. No matter what, this should at least be exciting.

Sitting in a comfortable leather chair close by the window, Drystan overlooked the street below. Despite the time, people were already beginning to mull around, preparing for the day ahead, operating through routines as integral to their very core as breathing. So much so, that even after the events of yesterday, where an Avatar - a God - had died, still they continued as if nothing had happened. As if nothing was wrong. With a mug of tea in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, he silently observed them, bemused at how simple life must be for a people like that.

And how dull.

The scizor stirred slightly in her sleep, as Drystan wondered exactly how one sleeps comfortably with wings sticking out and getting in the way - and not for the first time. Still, she seemed settled enough, and hadn’t been disturbed by him getting up, dressing and making a cup of tea, so it couldn’t be all that bad. In fact, a whole extra hour of quiet contemplation rolled past until Deladriss awoke fully, and the two made their way downstairs to the breakfast table, after attempting unsuccessfully to locate Palkia in her room. Although, where she had actually wandered off to was anyone’s guess. Finding her could wait until at least after breakfast, however.

As the pair walked into the large, elaborate dining room and took their seats, it wasn’t long before a waitress appeared to jot down orders and vanishing into the hustle and bustle as quickly as she had arrived. The two made small talk, telepathically, until breakfast had arrived and been promptly devoured. Feeling rather content, Drystan fished out his packet of cigarettes and the box of matches from the suit pocket. Something stirred inside, as his legend finally awoke. Placing a cigarette in his mouth, the match sparked against the side of the box, igniting in a satisfying whoosh of flame. Holding his hand up to light the cigarette, the waitress reappeared quickly, looking rather flushed as though from a dash.

She spoke up, harshly, the anger in her voice not even remotely veiled. “Sir, you can’t smoke in here.”

Drystan instantly felt his hackles rise due to her tone of voice. Taking a deep breath in, exhaling through his nose, he wrestled down the urge to treat her as a gang member, and rearrange the placement of a few ribs for her sudden and outright gall. “Careful,” came the advice, “it wouldn’t do to make that much of a scene.”

The legend was right, of course, but this couldn’t be allowed to simply slide by. A small smirk crept over his lips as he removed the cigarette ever so slightly while keeping the match lit. “One would have thought that you’d be more hospitable to an Avatar.” Letting the sentence hang in the air, the woman inhaled sharply and paled a shade. Drystan replaced the cigarette, lit it, and drew a lungful of smoke, blowing it across the table. As it rolled out, spreading like wispy tentacles around the room, he glared at the waitress. “Be very careful who you take that tone with, among my kind.”

Flicking the match out, towards the waitress, it flared a bright blue for a split second. As it fell towards the table, the flame extinguished, leaving the acrid smell of burnt wood to assault the nearby air. The match continued to fall, and now the wood began to rot. Individual splinters began to peel back along the length, drifting off to follow their own trajectory. After what seemed like an eternity, it collided with the table proper, and turned to a substance not unlike dust. A pile of tiny wood chips - rotten and splintered. Seeing the unmistakable power of an Avatar, the waitress understood the not-so-subtle threat that now polluted the air, and went ghost-white.

“Not all of us will be so… tolerant.” Puffing out another column of smoke, he turned to the Scizor nearby, sending out the thoughts to her. “Let’s go, it’s clear we have overstayed our welcome.”

She gave a look, one he had seen hundreds of times before. “I’m sorry, we?”

That drew a smile. “Of course! Didn’t Palkia ask you to keep me out of trouble when she isn’t around?”

Deladriss gave a short, sharp cry - although the nature of which wasn’t clear to Drystan, and he thought it better not to ask. As the two emerged onto the streets, his thoughts suddenly became clouded with raucous laughter, drifting through him in such a way that Deladriss could listen in as well. “Breakfast and a show. How I wish more mornings would start this well.”

“Dialga. Did you sleep soundly?”

“Most wonderfully, my host, and I woke at precisely the right time. That match trick was well done.” The voice boomed harshly and yet was silky smooth at the same time, it appeared neither male nor female, no other sound was quite like it. “How was your morning, Deladriss?”

The Scizor, who had been scowling ever since leaving the hotel, allowed a hint of humour in her tone. “I’ve had worse.”

---

In respectful silence, the party moved through Mauville’s streets like apparitions, using Dialga’s perfect recollection of the city maps from the previous day to simply glide through alleyways and shortcuts until arriving at the scene of last night’s chaos. The area was substantially tidier now, and especial care had been taken to remove the bloodstains, yet the tree remained. It emitted a soft, comforting energy - the kind that made you feel safe and warm. A stark contrast to the emotions it churned up inside Drystan. Staring at the tree, at what it signified, he became very aware of the frailty of life, even for Avatars. Not fear, not quite, but the larval-form of it. Contemplating death hadn’t been high on his list, after partnering up with a being of immense power, but the tree before him had also been an Avatar. Of life, to boot. Dialga remained perfectly silence in commemoration.

Debris and clutter had been swept into neat piles - as neat as broken pieces of building can be, anyways - along the pavements on either side of the street. Sitting nearby, at the foot of an alleyway, Drystan found a bag. Brown leather, and filled with a variety of seemingly-useless junk. A broken bottle of wine, chipped glasses and a strangely red egg.

“Who left this here?” The man asked, somewhat taken aback by the find.

“At a guess, Xerneas. He’s not exactly in a position to pick it up now,” Dialga chuckled.

Holding the egg up to the light, Drystan stood, puzzled. “Why was the Avatar of Life carrying an egg around?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, my host. Take it with you, perhaps we can hatch it. Surely it’s important, if Xerneas took an interest in it. At the very least, it’ll do for lunch.”

Smiling at the strangeness of the situation, he shrugged, and pocketed the egg. Something to tinker with later, he thought.

As they moved on, further into Mavuille, it became apparent that less and less people were around, which struck Drystan as odd, given how plentiful they had been earlier. It wasn’t until they past a small poster on the wall informing the public about changes to the tournament that the reason why struck home. Everyone would be at home ready to watch. “Wait,” came the voice, a harsh edge of suspicion. “They have relocated the tournament - underground.”

Drystan furrowed his brow. “I believe we are on the same page, but continue.”

“Now, all Avatars taking part are going to be in the same place, a small bolt hole underground. If someone wanted to, an attack there would be catastrophic.”

Raising an eyebrow, Deladriss asked “You expect a trap?”

Dialga didn’t answer straight away, instead pondering that question. Did he? After a lengthy silence, he finally spoke. “Yes. The situation seems too perfectly set up for it to be a fluke. I know not who made the decision to move the event, but perhaps they have ulterior motives.”

“Always safer to assume everyone is out to kill you, even when they aren’t,” Drystan answered, flashing a grin. “But I personally hope they are. I’ve been itching for a good shot at these Alliance screwballs for a while.”

Feeling his host’s fire, the legend was wary. “Find Palkia before you go.”

“No time,” the man replied, shaking his head. “We need to get going now or run the risk of being late, no idea when they plan to begin. Besides, she’s a big girl and can handle herself.”

“It is not her I am concerned about. We blindly walk into a Growlithe’s den without someone to watch our backs.”

Feeling a tad annoyed, Drystan raised the volume of his mentally-projected voice. “Relax, Dialga. Between the three of us, we can manage.” He paused, lighting a cigarette before continuing. “Just keep an eye out for anything strange, and let’s go.”

---

They arrived at the underground location - the new site of the tournament locked off to everyone without proper authorisation - earlier than anticipated. Finding it hadn’t been quite as difficult as Drystan had allowed for, despite the guards at the entrance asking countless dross questions. Turning one of their personal effects to ash or its composite parts would have been a sure-fire way of ending any doubt of his authenticity, but such an act could have been misconstrued as outwardly aggressive, rather than just plain pissed off. Removing his hat, briefly, to wipe the sweat from his brow, Drystan surveyed the scene.

People were buzzing around like flies, setting things up and getting prepared for the show to come. Quite a few of the present company could be easily picked out as fellow Avatars from their rather eclectic dress sense, although not enough for a tournament. He began staring at each individual in turn, trying to figure out if they were an Avatar and if so, who’s and what powers they possessed. Feeling a nervous excitement deep inside - caused by as-of-yet unfounded fears - he instinctively picked out a cigarette and lit it.

“Dialga. Can you tell if it’s here?”

“No. Due to the length of time that portal was open last night, it’s coloured everything with the horrible black energy of Giratina’s domain. Locating it would be less a needle in a haystack, and more a specific drop of water in an ocean.”

Sighing, the Avatar turned back to the collected group of his kind, steadily growing with each passing second. “Well then, I suggest we mingle and hope it turns up today.” Scanning the crowd, he noticed a rather portly man in a suit taking a very prominent seat. “Now then, there is a man who knows how to dress!”

“I’m glad you find this a laughing matter,” the legend growled. “If the Allia-”

“Dialga.” Drystan’s tone held more than a hint of finality, and annoyed anger. He sighed, the action billowing smoke down his form. “Look, the Alliance are a bunch of amateurs, no more a threat to us than a shoal of Magikarp. Especially now. All reports from the terrorist attack started the same. The Alliance members stood up, announced their presence and then launched their attack. It smacks of arrogance - the kind born through a lack of fear - because real threats don’t talk about action. They simply act.”

“Now, the ensuing battle didn’t exactly go in their favour, granted, but later that day, an Avatar died. It proved we aren’t all-powerful immortal deities. So I am willing to gamble that same foolish arrogance will still be entirely present. Should they show up, we will have our chance to handle the situation. For now, we wait.”

Throught the lecture, Dialga remained silent, hearing the truth in the words. Nothing was set in stone, but it was an accurate and well-informed guess. He decided to relent and bide time, after all, Drystan was good at the business of reading situations like this. “Very well, I’ll follow your lead.”

“Good,” he said, dropping the cigarette on the floor before crushing it underfoot. “Now let’s go size up the competition.”

Near a quiet back corner of the waiting area, a small figure nervously approached one of the attendants in charge of directing the competitors. Simple pink blouse, capris, hair hidden by a plain cap... overall, this person looked remarkably normal compared to some of the avatars' unusual getup. The only thing that stood out about this girl was the somewhat eerie silver mask she wore, covering all of her face except for her squinting eyes.

The attendant leaned down to hear the girl quietly speak to him. After a bit of conversation, the girl nodded and returned to her spot in the corner, looking down the whole time. She sat on the floor next to a Pokemon. The Lucario put a reassuring paw on her shoulder, and the girl's tense posture relaxed a bit. Then she watched as the attendant she spoke to conversed with a handful of other volunteers. After a couple minutes, they seemed to come to a consensus. For now, the masked girl could only hope it was in her favor.

When he awoke the next morning, Kaze ate a light breakfast and set off to the location of the Tournament of Legends with Clabber and Jingle by his side. However, a poster on his way contained the details about the new stage it would be on: far underground and away from where the citizens could be hurt. As he began to change course, his mother began to tail him. So far, Kaze had done fine living without his parents in the apartments the Mayor had ensured were provided, though after yesterday's events there had been rumors of the Avatars being removed. Unfortunately for him, despite living apart from them, she had still found him.

"Kaze Vayu Elwynn!" she shouted down the eerily empty hallway.

"Did she just use your full name?" Clabber asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "She did."

"What were you thinking yesterday! Getting involved in a fight like that! And you sided with the murderer! That doesn't look good on your dad and me, having a son who helps a cold-blooded, evil murderer! Don't you ever think about anyone other than yourself?" she screamed.

"I was thinking about other people!" Kaze retorted, not caring anymore about her opinion. Suicune and the others had helped him find his place, and he wasn't about to give that up. "I was thinking I didn't want anyone to die! I wasn't picking sides! I was protecting lives! Had I not done what little I did, both of them might be dead right now. And I don't think Giratina is evil; he's just misunderstood . . . like I am."

"There's that selfishness again. You're grounded, Kaze!"

"And how are you going to hold me back? Just face it! You've never liked me since the day Suicune chose me! But I'm done being something that should be hidden away! I'm leaving you and dad. I'm going to help people, whether you approve of it or not."

"Excuse me?!"

"I'm done, mom! I'm not going back to you and dad! I'm going to do the right thing! And I can't do that with you treating me like a freak accident," he finished, then turned away from her and continued on toward the tournament.

After a few moments of silence, Clabber spoke up again, "I . . . I can't believe you just said what you did to her."

"What do you mean?" Kaze asked in return.

"You were stammering and unsure of yourself yesterday when we met. But that . . . that was powerful. You had authority to your voice."

"Did I? Maybe it was just Suicune helping me out."

Clabber cast him an odd look. "Riiiight. I'm going to keep my eyes on you, Kaze."

---

Before they arrived at their destination, the three came across a kiosk with berries for sale. "Getch yer fresh berries, here!" the salesman shouted to a nearly empty Mauville.

"I'd like some," Kaze said, approaching the man and preparing his money.

"Oooh, get the pink, curly ones. Those are sweet," Clabber explained, seemingly mesmerized by the stack to the left of the stand.

"Sounds good. Maybe I'll get one for each of us."

"Oh, please do. Been ages since someone grew one of those near my home and I've been dying to have more."

"What can I get for ya?" the man asked emphatically, seemingly pleased to have some business.

"Three Mago Berries, please," Kaze asked politely.

"Three Mago, coming right--hold on," he stopped, noticing the odd shapes on Kaze's arms. "You're one of those Avatars, aren't you?! The people who have been destroying this city? That'll be double the price for you!"

"What?! But I--" Kaze began, but was interrupted.

"No 'but's. Double the money or scram." But Clabber apparently didn't like that news, and was at the man's heels, snapping his claws wildly in threat, but not actually pinching anything but air. "wh-What is that thing doing?! Get it away from me!" the merchant shrieked, jumping away, but Clabber followed.

"Sorry, but he really doesn't like it when he doesn't get his way. Even I can't really control him," Kaze explained before mentally continuing to Clabber, "Not that I don't enjoy this. In fact, keep it up."

"F-fine, what'll it take to get him to leave me alone? Standard price?" But Clabber pinched again. "Half off?" This time, one of Clabber's claws clamped around the merchant's slacks, provoking another scream. "Fine! Take them for free! Just keep this thing off of me!" Clabber didn't let go until the berries were in Kaze's hands. Then he smugly let go and returned to Kaze's side, the shopkeep letting an audible sigh of relief.

"That was dirty. But hilarious all at the same time."

"What can I say? I really like Mago berries."

Jingle also seemed deeply amused by the Corphish's performance, even going so far as to give Clabber a sort of "high-five" as they continued on their way.

---

When Kaze arrived at the waiting area, he noticed a number of faces he didn't recognize. One man was smoking off to the side of everyone else, and to Kaze, appeared intimidating. However, one girl sat alone in a corner with a Lucario beside her, the Pokemon acting something like a bodyguard or . . . perhaps like a parent.

The girl was the only person who seemed to be around Kaze's age, and was the only person he felt comfortable talking to first, despite the mask she wore, so he slowly approached her. "Hi," he greeted. "I'm Kaze, the Avatar of Suicune. Are you an Avatar by any chance?"

The girl's teal eyes stared up at Kaze for a few seconds.

"Y-yeah..." she mumbled. "Umm..."

The masked face shifted slightly toward the Lucario, who stared keenly at Kaze, as if trying to gaze into his soul.

"The auras of the human and Pokemon seem to be in relative harmony," Solomon telepathically informed his companion. "He strikes me as genuine and perhaps compassionate. He could be a good one to have on our side."

The silent conversation reassured the masked girl, and she seemed more relaxed when she looked back to Kaze.

"My name's Emry," she continued, her gentle voice friendlier but still a little hard to hear under the mask. "Uh... are you good at battling? I'm not really much of a fighter, but even if I lose, who could pass up the chance to train with other Avatars?"

"Maybe we should work on your demoralizing trash-talk first," Solomon commented with a slight wry smile.

It was early in the morning when Germaine finally awoke in his designated hospital bed - his head was banging and his entire body ached with pain; even opening his eyes was a struggle, the first sight though was hardly pretty, nor was the realisation that hit him of what had happened last night.
Germaine looked at his aching body in disbelief, it was in a set of pyjama like clothing, and after inspecting his body itself he was covered in a network of bandages.
The bed had spots of dried blood dashed on it; clearly the Nurses had no wish to wake the beast from it's slumber when they dressed his wounds - many of which had healed and scarred over already, as they were mere gashes or cuts that barely broke the skin.
However there were an equal amount of grievous wounds over his body - they still hurt something special.

As he looked around the room a voice broke the relative silence he was in - clearly he was far removed from many of the other patients here in the hospital as barely a sound could be heard from the rest of the building.
"Welcome back to the world of the living - although, I honestly think it would have been better and easier for you had you not came back."
The voice was stern and filled with caution, as well as a slight undertone of fear.
The voice came from a red headed woman, wearing a police uniform.

"Are you referring to Giratina? Or Germaine?"

She answered him, even if she did not mean it, her face that donned a look of confusion; for a mere split second, told him what he needed to know.

"I see... you don't know..." It was only at that moment did he try and lift his left arm to scratch an itchy wound (despite knowing that would only make things worse) until his arm stopped with a pull of metal against metal.
His arm had been handcuffed to the side railing of the bed.
It was almost funny to think that they thought something like this would stop a God if he really wanted to leave, but it was there to keep them feeling safe - they needed the illusion of a barrier to stop Giratina rampaging again regardless of how useless it may actually be.
It's what humans do.

The woman had since moved from the door and sat in a uncomfortable looking chair in the corner of the room.
She gave a sigh before biting - "Go on. I don't know what?"

"Giratina has receded back into my mind - for the first time in two years I can finally control my own body and mind; only to come back to a world that has me branded as a villain, and a murderer... it's like waking from a coma to find a gun pointed at your head."
Giving the handcuffs another little cautionary rattle he continued.

"Tell me - weere you actually planning on attempting to take Giratina to court?"

The woman didn't exactly look impressed, you'd think in her position she'd heard everything people would have said to try and escape their act in a crime, but as well as this she knew that having a God jump into your mind won't exactly have positive consequences, the fact that any other Avatar hadn't endured the same thing as Germaine; IF he was to be believed, seemed rather amiss.

After a while she simply nodded and in response Germaine laughed in disbelief, which rewarded him with a sharp twang of pain in his chest.
"That's absurd! I can't believe you would attempt to imprison a being that for the whole of it's existence has been imprisoned by Arceus himself.
You can't put me in prison, nor Giratina, in doing so you would only endanger the lives of even more people because I know for a fact that he would wrest control back from me and escape.
Then you have him on the loose with the world regarding him with hostility; great job. You just made a God your enemy in your misguided attempt to fulfil some stupid sense of justice."

Without letting her respond Germiane continued.
"Besides, nobody but myself knows what occurred that ended up making Giratina lose it; I may be biased because he is me and vice versa - but I hold no love for the bastard, he ruined my life - he took away from me 2 years of my life and done with it as he pleased, without any regard for my family or friends back at home."

Germaine calmed himself down a bit since he realised just then he had started shouting at the officer; who to be fair was doing impressively well to sit in front of such a threat with a straight face.

"That Xerneas provoked Giratina into an attack, the idiot said he deserved his imprisonment and went on further to say that he would make an attempt to have Giratina imprisoned once again - by the very being who only can imprison a Pokémon like Giratina - that is Arceus.
Xerneas could have easily averted the ensuing rage from Giratina at that news - just try and think for a moment; do you honestly think there is any crime that can never be forgiven? Giratina was finally forgiven from millennia of isolation and torment, and someone wanted to throw him back to that hell. There is nothing he wouldn't do, nor anyone for that mater to prevent that from happening again.
Xerneas deserved everything he got for saying what he said..."

Germaine sighed before saying his last piece.

"Giratina is misunderstood, I can say that much from being in his mind for two years, he is alien - a Legend even among Pokémon, bordering a myth and he gets thrown back into the world that is alien to him - least of all into a humans body, he simply wanted to live a life he never had the chance to get - what crime is there in that?"

"Alien or not, he's still a fucking moron."

Leaning against the door to the room, Rebeca scowled darkly. Her shopping trip with Alexis had been somewhat successful; she'd picked up a few new pairs of shorts, a couple pairs of pants, and a few t-shirts, one of which she was now wearing under her jacket. She’d even picked up a weird looking berry from a vendor. Seeing all of their expressions when she dropped a big chunk of gold on the counter had been kinda funny too. All in all, it had been a not bad day, considering how it had started by waking up in the hospital.

And it had promptly been spoiled when she heard an unearthly howl, and not long after that people talking about how the Avatars of Giratina and Xerneas had gotten into a fight, one that had ended with Xerneas torn in half, Giratina unconscious and due to be arrested. Which had led to her going back to the hospital, only to be turned away since the Avatar was still out cold. She’d come back the next morning, and the second officer standing guard out in the hallway had been a bit more accommodating when her markings had started glowing, after which she had promised that no, she was not going to start a fight in the hospital, she only wanted to talk.

Glancing at the female officer sitting in the chair, Rebeca briefly dipped her head. ”You mind? I’d just like to take a minute and explain to my friend exactly how much of a dumbass he was. I’ll make sure to leave him like he is.” The expression on her face suggested that she was in no mood to argue, and the officer apparently decided that if her partner had let the Continent Avatar in, she could probably be trusted to keep her word.

Once the officer had left, Rebeca turned her glare on the bed-locked Avatar. “So, from the way you’re talking, your little “guest” has taken a backseat for a while. Nice to meetcha. Should we start from the top, or would you prefer I call him a moron again?”

@Leos Klien

Kaze chuckled at the question as to whether he was any good at battling. "Looks like we're in the same boat. I'm not that good either, unless Suicune decides to help. But he likes to sleep, so I'm not sure I'll get his help today. Luckily, I still have my friends near me," he said, gesturing to Clabber and Jingle.

"You've got to be kidding me. You're going to be enemies in this tournament, and you're being friendly with her?" Clabber scolded.

"Not my enemy. An opponent, but not an enemy. I don't need to cause any hatred that might end like . . . yesterday," Kaze explained.

"You'll have to tell me some stories on everything I've missed sometime."

"Maybe later." Then he returned his focus to Emry. "Sorry," he apologized. "Clabber is a bit rude at times. I have to try to keep him calm."

"I'm right here," the Corphish snapped, but Kaze tried to ignore him for the moment.

@Zanavy