Akala Island

Elder eyed the boat with even more suspicion. “Not a Pokemon?”

Radegast turned to Elder, “Well you know how I feel about Ride Pokemon, man,” He replied with a smirk as he vaulted onto the motorboat.

Most would use Ride Pokemon… Reggie’s voice echoed in Radegast’s head.

Radegast trusted Reggie and Elder, and he did feel something was odd about a small motorboat like this on the ocean. Such a thing meant that they were headed to a larger ship farther offshore. Using the cover of darkness, the Gengar- out of his suspicions- dipped a drop of black poison into the black ocean as a sort of marker, shortly before they’d head off. Right after leaving the marker, the Gengar melted into the shadows of the boat, and subsequently transferred to Radegast’s.

Even the Lord-Regent was unaware of the Gengar’s actions. Operative would’ve been proud of the maneuver if she were out to watch with her Compound Eyes.

When Radegast climbed into the boat, Tiki followed suit (literally even) and sat down in the back seat of the four-seater, clutching the tiller with his dominant hand and a movement so smooth it had to be practiced. He started the engine and the motor sputtered to life. A moment later, the boat lurched forward, cutting through the waves with precision as they took off...away from the islands of Alola.

"So...Dreads," Tiki struck up conversation suddenly, calling over the water slapping the side of the boat, "What do you do in the Alola Region?"

“Just chilling, mostly,” Radegast replied, “I try to avoid trouble- try not to bother people, but sometimes it falls in my lap and I’m all “Aw man…” and then I gotta deal with this and that. Otherwise, I just go with the flow.”

He spoke very much like a Team Skull member, though his demeanour and delivery were very unlike Team Skull. Rather, it was like a rap star had branched far out from those roots.

"Go wit da flow," Tiki noted as he scratched his beard, giving another glance towards the dreadlocked teen, "You sound like ma brudda. He was always 'go wit da flow'..."

His thoughts seemed to deepen as he continued, switching the subject quite randomly, "Amma not gonna lie. Sally 'ere din't pick a gud time tuh recruit. Ya kno wut I'm sayin'? We'll take ya tuh boss-man, yeah? I tink 'e'll be okay wid you joinin' us, but he may be busy right now. You understand?"

“Your brother sounds like my kinda guy,” Radegast replied with a smile to Tiki. While the big guy was cold and distant, it didn’t mean the Lord-Regent could simply stop being a pal.

When Tiki’s concerns were voiced, Radegast shook his head and held up a hand. “All good, man,” Radegast replied, “Even if you guys don’t need a pair of hands, it’s cool.”

Tiki's brow furrowed in confusion at the expression, "Pair a' 'ands?"

"It means an extra body," Sally explained, "Like, another person."

"Ah," Tiki nodded, resuming his silence.

"I think you're gonna love what we do," Sally said with a smile towards Radegast.

---

“Impossible! Impossible!”

“Report this to the Six! They must know of what happened here! This is a travesty of the highest order!”

“You call this a travesty? It’s a miracle! The Lord-Regent lives!” A Dartrix hooted.

“It’s a miracle he lives, but a travesty that he’s returned like… like THAT!”

“The real travesty is that Demonbreath has returned! Worse off, he is under the control of your greatest enemy!”

“Regicide and Demonbreath joining forces, indeed… Your friend Weyloran is going to have words about that.”

“She’s not our friend, though not for lack of trying!”

“We have our duties, and you have yours. We’ll be in touch.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

A series of splashes.

"Don't let yourselves break from this!! Please!"

More splashes, and then silence.

—

THE MORNING AFTER THE REBIRTH OF DEMONBREATH

“GYAH!” Radegast threw himself upright. The pain ebbed rapidly away, as if it were more a lingering phantom than anything real. He could feel his left arm and right leg. “Was… was it a dream…?” he thought. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. As soon as he was done, he planned to examine his wounds. “It seemed so real… Necrozma… Reggie…”

He gasped, completely forgetting his plans. “Suros!” She took a hit from that Necrozma- whom Reggie barely held his ground against. The Lord-Regent flung himself out of bed and threw open the door.

But something on his head caught on the doorframe, and he was sent to the floor. “Damnit,” Radegast scrambled back to his feet. “Suros!” He called again.

“Radegast!?” A series of voices erupted from the living room downstairs. “Holy shit he’s awake!”

The Lord-Regent lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs, landing flat on his back in the middle of the living room. By the time he opened his eyes, all of his friends were surrounding him.

“Guys!” Radegast smiled, “You’re alright! Thank goodness… Where’s Suros?”

“She’s recovering,” Elder replied, “It was a really bad hit, though. Would’ve been worse if you didn’t recall her.”

“Indeed,” Radegast wiped a tear from his eye, only to find that his arm was suddenly different. “WHOA! What the fu-“

“I told you he wouldn’t take it well,” Vorpal droned.

“What happened!?” Radegast sat up and looked at his arms and legs. He knew there was something unusual about his failed footing. It turned out his arms and legs were entirely different. He still wore the torn-up cargo shorts and tee shirt, soaked a deep red with blood. “It wasn’t a dream…”

“YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A DREAM!?” The Primeape grabbed Radegast’s shoulders and shook him. “YOU DIED, FRIEND-RADEGAST! YOU WERE DEAD!”

“I…” Radegast couldn’t process such an idea. “Dead… no… but…” He stood up on pale ivory legs, looking down at deep green arms. On his chest was a large red fin.

“To be honessst, we thought you’d become a Dragalge.”

“They were offended that you didn’t.”

“They… Wait who? What did I miss?” This time, it was Radegast’s turn to grab Rage’s shoulders and shake. “This is crazy! Why am I… What the hell… What…” The Lord-Regent’s blue eyes rolled up as he once more dropped to the floor.

Elder planted both hands to his temples, only remembering then that he had no temples. “This is just great…” The Gengar huffed as he spun around and headed into the old sanctum.

The single antennae of Bretomart remained as lifeless as ever, but the truth of the matter was too much for the Gengar to think about. For now, he had someone to talk to. The Talonflame lay on a cushioned bench, emitting light sobs.

“Suros…” Elder said.

“He’s alive,” Suros sniffled.

“Yes…”

“But those stupid Skrelp… Depths did what he did… and because it wasn’t Depths again, they deemed it… an abomination…” The air around the Talonflame rippled with heat waves.

Elder sat down beside Suros. “Not even I can fathom their culture; I’ve never swam that deep.”

“He’s back, and healthy… but so is that…” The Talonflame glared at the antennea. “Bretomart is the abomination, not Radegast…”

Elder softly rested a hand on the Talonflame’s bandaged wing. “We all agree… But we also know we’ve lost… The good news is that we are not lost,” The Gengar grinned, “Chin up, kid. The Lord-Regent needs you now more than ever.”

As if his mind were suddenly unshackled for the first time, he felt all-new sensations. Words in many voices flooded his mind as if it were an open freeway during rush hour. Amidst the torrent of emotions, panic, fear, and worry seemed the universal constant. It was all, in a word, overwhelming.

“Jakob!” A calm, almost laid-back voice called.

“Vorpal!” Jakob’s hooting, stereotypical butler voice echoed amidst the many voices and thoughts that flooded his subconscious, “I know what this is! Everyone but Vorpal, get away and clear your thoughts!”

The instruction seemed to eventually result in something. The torrent of words and presences began to ebb somewhat. Soon, there was a focus on a single voice.

“Lord-Regent… Radegast…” Vorpal spoke in a calming drawl.

He opened his eyes. The Alakazam sat across from him, in the living room. They were seated in the comfortable bamboo lounge chairs. “Did that help? Can you hear me?”

“I… Where is everyo- Why did they-“

“Leave?” Vorpal smiled softly, “You’re… well… You’re different now, man. The physiology comes with things you’ll need to get used to.”

“New form…?” Radegast rose his green arms to get a look at them again, “So I really was…”

“Yes… If not for the King of Depths…”

“The King of Depths?” This was actually the first time Radegast had heard the actual title. “And Lord-Regent? What are you talking abou-“

Vorpal huffed in amusement, “Heh… You really didn’t know what we were calling you?”

Radegast shook his head. “I’ve picked up a lot of stuff while living here, but… Wait…” He rose from his sofa. “I can understand you guys!”

“Indeed,” Vorpal nodded, “But humans won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you need to learn to speak with your mind, dude.” Vorpal leaned forward and tapped a long, spindly finger on Radegast’s forehead. “It’d be nice to be a teacher again.”

“Can I get that in layman’s terms?” Radegast asked as he rubbed his temples.

“You are a Gallade now,” Vorpal spoke slowly, yet matter-of-factly. “As a Psychic-type, you have unlocked psychic potential. That means you can hear thoughts if you want to. However, as evidenced by your overwhelmed mind- fainting like that- you’re currently unaware that you’re constantly reaching.”

“Like… keeping my foot on the gas pedal?”

“As in human cars?” Vorpal hummed thoughtfully, “That is a good analogy.”

“How do I get it off, then?” Radegast asked.

“The sensation of it,” Vorpal replied, “Your mind is a muscle, so you need to train it accordingly. Follow my lead.”

The Alakazam crossed his legs and assumed a meditative pose. Radegast followed suit.

“We’ll focus on Psychokinetic potential later,” Vorpal spoke, “For now… just breathe… breathe in… breathe out.”

In…

Out…

In…

Out…

—

“They’re taking a while in there,” Crystal noted. The majority of the group remained on the opposite side of the plateau from the house. Thoth, Rage, and Jolder, and the Operative left on a supply run into the Lush Jungle.

“It’s impossible to assume Radegast could master even the simplest part in a single day,” Jakob replied, “But with Vorpal there, he’ll figure it out sooner than later.”

“Did he train you?” Crystal added.

“I know some Ghost-type moves thanks to his guidance,” Jakob replied, “Thoth learned to channel his lunar nature in the day time. Vorpal is a good friend, and a great teacher.”

“Kinda makes me wonder how he ended up here.”

Jakob shrugged, “I won’t say. You’d be better off asking him anyway.”

Elder paced around close by, while Suros rested her wing at the Felwinter memorial. Everyone else was silently huddled.

“It will take a while,” Jakob admitted, “We should join the others to get supplies.”

Suros and Elder were the only ones who remained.

“Reggie?” Elder called.

“Failure…”

The Aegislash muttered strange words to himself as he hovered outside the cave entrance.

“Reggie!” Elder called.

“What?” Reggie seemed to snap out of some strange mental state. “The Young Master. Is he…”

“Alive,” Elder replied, “Alive and well. You did not fail him.”

“I did… I should’ve been topside… I should’ve reflected…”

“You crippled their technological progress, if what you said is true,” Elder smiled, “They’ll be laying low for a while, giving us time to recover.”

The Aegislash was silent, but it was clear he was not buying what Elder was saying.

The Gengar produced the black-prism gauntlet. “Look,” Elder said, “You guys made a promise to each other. If we’re gonna get justice- revenge- or whatever, we’ve all got to recover, and get stronger. Remember this stepping stone.”

The Aegislash regarded the Gengar for a long while. With a paper-like hand, it gently picked the gauntlet from Elder’s hands. “This won’t fit a Gallade’s hands,” Reggie noted.

“It’s Psychic-type material,” Elder grinned, “I know the Lord-Regent will figure out how to wear it, and that’s when everything changes.”

HEAHEA CITY - HOSPITAL - 4 DAYS SINCE DEMONBREATH

The pain washed through her as she jolted awake. Margriet squeaked as she lay down once more. “What… Where…?” She examined her surroundings.

A nurse by the door rushed out, barely escaping her peripheral vision. Further to her right, she saw Logan resting upright in a nearby chair, with his arm in a cast. Their respective belts and pokeballs lay on the end tables next to them.

The pain rapidly vanished. At-first, Margriet thought it was a result of breaking stitches, but one look at her body told her she didn’t need stitches. However, her left arm and right leg were both in casts. The pain must have manifested from laying down so long.

“Fractures,” Logan spoke up, “They’re being braced together to heal.”

Margriet nodded. “How long was I out?”

“Four days,” Logan replied, “I was passed out for-“ Logan turned to face his ward, but his eyes remained unblinking at the window.

Margriet followed her bodyguard’s gaze and saw Reginald, the Coat of Arms, hovering outside the window.

“I got it,” Logan grunted as he swung his uninjured legs out and stood up. He then opened the window with one hand- no easy feat.

“Two failures in one day, as it turns out…” The Aegislash’s aura emitted pure sorrow.

“Two?” Margriet’s eyes widened, “Wait, why aren’t you with Radegast?”

“I will return to him soon enough,” The Aegislash replied, “I only wished to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine, but what about Radegast?” The Aegislash did not respond, but something about it seemed to bother the coat of arms. “Tell me,” Margriet ordered.

“He asked me not to tell,” Reggie replied, “But he wants to let you… He wants to let the family know that he’s alright. He also wants to tell Tarma…” The Aegislash trailed off.

“Are you alright?”

“I am in perfect shape.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“… Tell Tarma… that Radegast has figured out a way to fuse… without any sort of risk.”

Margriet sat up briskly. “Fuse!?” She snapped, “Has he lost his mind?”

“I came to tell you that we will be gone for a long time. When we come back, it will be when we have mastered this new technique.”

“A long time…?” Margriet repeated softly. “But you can’t tell me what happened to my brother… can you?”

“He… can’t face you… as he is now.”

What’s that supposed to mean? Before Margriet could ask, the Aegislash bade farewell and flew off.

If your business is concluded, get back to the family. Reggie’s voice echoed in Margriet’s mind, The Rebellion’s days are numbered. Have faith.

Margriet stared after the Aegislash as he flew Northward, before turning back to Logan. “As soon as we’re done, we’re heading back home.”

“What about that green light?” Logan asked, “Is it…?”

“The Coat knows something. Something terrible happened.”

“I felt that vibe as well,” Logan added.

“As soon as we’re outta here, we’re heading home.”

—

OUTSKIRTS OF HEAHEA - HEAVILY WOODED AREA

“It is done,” Reggie spoke as he returned. “It was difficult…”

“They have to focus on the Rebellion,” Radegast replied.

“You’re worried your family is going to be spread too thin if they went after the Regicide Crew?”

“… Well, that too. But more than anything…” Radegast clenched his fist, encased perfectly with a black prism-like gauntlet, reshaped through psychic suggestion to fit a Gallade’s hand. “I want to return the favour myself.”

“You never struck me as the revenge type.”

“I never struck me as the dying type, and yet…” The Gallade extended a hand to the Aegislash. “Shall we?”

The Gallade wore his old trainer belt like a bandolier. The leg satchel was adjusted to meet the different physiology, and the backpack remained back at the Treehouse, along with all of the human attire that no longer fit him. Despite the new form, traces of the scar tissue accumulated over the years still remained. The knuckles, the Ursaring’s claw across the chest, and even the acid burn on his shoulder. However, all of them were faded, compared to before.

The Aegislash separated the blade and shield, and the two hovered and were placed in Radegast’s hands. The paper-like arms wrapped around Radegast’s own arms, but stopped short of the elbow.

“It works,” Radegast noted at the Necrozma’s gift, “I don’t feel anything.”

“The limiter seems to prevent one-sided overflow,” Reggie noted, “It’s like a dam blocking my entire being. I don’t like it.”

“Well, I don’t like it either,” Radegast swung the sword, slicing air with unpracticed form. “Wow, you’re actually heavy!” He yelped as he stumbled.

“Indeed… We may not like it, but training always fixes that.”

It was their first time fusing, and it was nothing like either had imagined. It might as well be a Gallade holding a metal stick. It was nothing like the explosive, god-like aura that Tarma had exuded during that skirmish against the Rebellion.

But there was a power flow between them. As miniscule as a fraction of a percent as it was, it was something they could feel.

“Now then… How the heck are we gonna leave this island?” Radegast asked.

Radegast gazed at his wallet. Most of the cards he kept inside were non-identity-related things. Business cards he had accumulated over the years, gift cards for specific services- most are likely empty- and membership cards under the pseudonym “Dreads”.

The only other thing was his trainer card/passport. He stared at it for a good long time. He looked so different then. The Reginald jawline, the brown dreadlocks, the strong, defined neck. The only thing that was the same now were the blue eyes, often filled with curiosity and serenity.

Radegast sighed as he returned the cards to their proper place. “Guess we’re stowing away then,” he said as he slipped the wallet back into his leg satchel.

The rest of the Treehouse caretakers, as well as Radegast’s friends, were eating lunch. Radegast could hardly eat. Even after a few days, he couldn’t work up the appetite to eat. Everything was so different now, it was completely surreal.

It was difficult working with such different hands, even if he did manage to fit the Limiter properly. Projecting phantom fingers like Vorpal suggested was harder than it looked. It was like trying to move a sixth or seventh finger after having lived with five for so long.

“Imagine you had your human hand back,” Vorpal had suggested. Radegast managed to manifest them with little effort, and they made the fingers on the Limiter gauntlet move, but he lacked any real control, let alone enough to make it second-nature.

The past four days were spent learning to take the foot off the gas pedal for the typical “mind-ear”. Radegast had mastered that quickly, but it was nothing worth bragging about. It was, after all, the first thing all Psychic-types learned.

Now, he was having difficulty manipulating a fork to pick out another leaf from the fresh jungle salad. It was almost like being an infant again. “Cmon…” Radegast growled as he stabbed the leaf and began lifting. “Cmoooo- Damn.” The fork dropped as the fingers suddenly outstretched to a neutral position.

Suros hopped over and grabbed the leaf with her beak, and offered it.

“Thanks,” Radegast grabbed the leaf between his teeth. The Talonflame seemed joyful about it.

“The Lord-Regent needs to practice,” Vorpal said.

“The Lord-Regent needs to eat too,” Suros snapped.

No one was about to start anything with the Demonslayer. Elder simply smirked knowingly, as did the rest of Radegast’s closest friends.

“You’re both right,” Radegast replied as he stroked Suros’ head with one hand and picked up the fork with the other. He then continued the long arduous process of reclaiming his old fingers. He needed to turn this ability into something entirely natural if he was to be able to properly wield Reggie. The thing Radegast missed most about his old hands was his dexterity, which he used for cooking proper meals for everyone. The past several days, he’s had to get help from pretty much everyone.

Doc Holiday returned one day after a long leave of absence, and returned with some synthesized electrical circuitry. Radegast took the wiring as excellent practice for his learning. Within a few more days, they had added some electrical lights to every room, all powered from a single battery charged by North.

The larder was also resupplied, and the group even had several visitors to the Pokemon bed & breakfast. Whenever there were visitors, Suros often isolated herself in Radegast’s room to avoid the attention being the Demonslayer often brings.

The Lord-Regent himself continued practice day in and day out. By the seventh day, he was naturally gripping things and letting them go. However, he knew it would take another two weeks to completely master everything, and another two weeks after that to make it completely second-nature. For now, he can grip properly.

Reggie, as always, watched over the entrance, always on alert. He was an unmoving sentinel, even when Pokemon approached, the most Reggie would do was turn around and call for Jakob or whoever else was present at the time.

Elder, Rage, Chrome, Crystal, and the Operative kept busy by bringing materials up to build hammocks and decor to populate the otherwise barren cavern floor. They made sure to keep everything a respectable distance from the Felwinter memorial, however. Jolder, Jakob, and Thoth simply maintained the rest. In the case of the Dartrix and Salazzle, they handled all visitors. Metronome, who was already laying low, remained laying low.

For all the time they spent together, they made a busy, yet quaint lifestyle. However, as Radegast trained to use his phantom hand again, he was constantly reminded of the boisterous laughter. The Marine. Radegast grit his teeth every time he thought of the creepy visor, the salt-and-pepper beard, and the malice in his face when he ordered the Necrozma to…

“Score!” Elder called one morning as he and Thoth returned from a food trip, “We got ourselves potatoes!”

“I’ll skin them,” Radegast said matter-of-factly. They could use the peels in the new compost, and Radegast knew he needed more practice.

The Treehouse experienced an overall transformation with the extra hands on deck. Within a mere couple of weeks, the place had its own underground farm, with UV lights synthesized by Doc Holiday. “Took me a while to research all the components for that,” he had said.

—

"Margriet and Logan have returned home," A guard announced.

"Send them in, quickly!" Marcus barked. His wife and elder brother sat at the board room table with bags under their eyes.

The daughter entered, with Logan behind her. The bodyguard had a cast around his arm, but Margriet's cuts and bruises were incredibly faint.

"Did the Psychic Rebellion do this to you?" Marcus called as he stepped forward.

"I'm fine, daddy." Margriet sat down in a chair. "Uncle, did you feel it?"

"I did," Tarma admitted, "He's barely escaped death, however."

"Who did it?" Margriet asked sharply, "Was it the Rebellion?"

Tarma shook his head, "I feel the Coat's familiarity with the term... Regicide Crew... but I was under the impression that they were low-level thugs."

"This Regicide Crew nearly killed our son..." Celadon spoke coldly, but she willed herself not to speak further.

"He is alive and recovered," Tarma added, "That much I can tell... But there was something different. Margriet, I wanted to ask you: have you seen him?"

"No," Margriet replied, "He sent the Coat of Arms to tell me, but he refused to tell me what happened."

"I don't understand," Marcus growled as he sat down in a different chair, "We're his family, why would he be so stubborn after what's happened to him?"

"I think I know," Tarma replied, "I can feel it even now- the boy is fusing with Reginald."

The room fell silent. "Is he stupi-" Margriet snapped.

"But I don't feel the Coat's presence absorbing any power." Tarma added.

"You mean he's..."

"He's fusing... without risk." Tarma leaned his head back, "I wish I knew how... I could've used such an ability."

"We all could," Marcus hummed, "But that means he's keeping this breakthrough from us."

"We're simply missing context," Tarma replied, "For now, we can only continue the course as far as the Family's concerned. Margriet," He turned once more to his niece, "Please debrief on your mission to Alola. Spare no details, no matter how irrelevant. If there is anything that could tell us what happened to Radegast, I want to hear it from you and Logan."

—

“Come in,” Radegast spoke as he sat, unmoving, on the edge of his bed. He was clenching and unclenching the Phantom fingers on both hands, constantly practicing.

Metronome strut in, her music sheet hair rolled up and red. “Lord-Regent.”

“Call me Radegast,” the Gallade replied. Now that he knew exactly what they were calling him all this time, the idea of an immensely important title like that began to bother him.

“Radegast,” The Meloetta smiled softly, “How’re your hands?”

“Still a bit stiff,” Radegast replied, “It’s weird, this sorta thing was so natural before.”

“You’ve accepted this new development pretty easily.”

Radegast huffed with a smirk, “I’ve always been a wildling at heart. This just seems fitting… but this… How do you guys do it with less than five fingers?”

“I’ve seen some humans who were missing their arms entirely,” Metronome replied, “They get along quite well.”

Ruulan cybernetics were quite advanced, but Radegast imagined he wouldn’t be able to afford mechanical prosthetics to fit on a specific Gallade. Not to mention the medical care required to get the body adjusted to the existence of the prosthetics. Radegast always thought of such things as out of the question while out in the wilderness beyond civilized regions.

Radegast nodded in response. “How can I help, by the way?”

“You’ve helped plenty enough,” the Meloetta smiled, “Those guys with that airplane.”

“Oh yeah!” Radegast leaned back as he chuckled, “Man that was crazy- I had no clue how to fly that thing!”

“Good thing I helped.”

“That’s for sure,” Radegast nodded as the Meloetta stood at the end of the bed and crossed her arms over the bracing. “I wonder what those guys are doing, if they’re still around.”

“They were after you for a while,” Meloetta replied, recalling the story of how Radegast and Doc Holiday met.

Radegast continued curling and uncurling his phantom fingers. The left hand- havng no Limiter gauntlet to show, was instead adorned with a series of wooden rings set along where Radegast matched the joints.

“Is it tough?”

“Not terribly,” Radegast shrugged, “The key is to make it something I don’t think about.”

“And after that?”

Radegast jerked a thumb to Reggie’s wood-finished pokeball. “All I wanted was just to be a friend.”

“You can’t make hundreds of friends without making a few enemies.”

“I don’t believe in that.”

“And yet…”

“That guy… he made that Necrozma…” Radegast’s left arm trembled, and the wooden rings dropped to the ground. “I have to free them,” he picked up the rings again and continued practicing the phantom hand. “It’s my fault this all happened.”

“I can’t pretend to know alternatives,” Metronome pulled herself up and sat next to Radegast, “I’m no Celebi. But I do know that you interrupted their music. From what I’ve heard reported from that sword, you guys did a real number on the Crew’s ship. You’ve bought time.”

“I know that already,” Radegast replied, “That’s why I’m training now, more than ever.”

The Meloetta nodded, “Just make sure you take your breaks, kid,” She put a ball-like hand on the Gallade’s shoulder- uncharacteristically thicker due to Radegast’s original build going into the form. “Overwork has the opposite effect.”

Vorpal entered once more. Meloetta moved to a chair in the corner as she watched the Alakazam tutor the new blood on intermediate psychic projection.

“Let’s see if you can try this on for size,” Vorpal entered the living room one morning. Hovering above his palm, he held up what appeared to be two smooth metal balls.

“How’d you get those?” Elder asked.

Vorpal jerked a head towards Jolder, who had also entered. “Sssuch sssweethearts,” she noted aloud.

Suspecting foul play- and not the attack kind- Elder merely snickered. Radegast glanced away from his work in the kitchen. “What’re those?”

“Meditation balls,” Vorpal replied, “The sort your human psychics use to hone their focus.” He then started turning the two balls around and around in one hand. “In your case, they’d be perfect to really test your control.”

Radegast nodded, but returned to the stew he was cooking. His gauntlet-clad hand carefully held onto a wooden spoon as it stirred the assortment of thick-chopped vegetables and whatever meat Jolder and the others managed to scrounge. “Thanks, man.”

“I’ll take them,” Elder extended his relatively tiny digits, and brought the meditation balls upstairs.

“Something troubling you?” Vorpal asked.

“You mean beyond the lingering shock of death,” Radegast chuckled in a forced way.

“It must hurt, really,” Vorpal replied, “You’ve always been one to trust a stranger… At least, to trust a stranger not to be so… I’m not even sure how to describe that human, the Marine.”

“He is an extremist,” Radegast added, “He cares deeply for his crew, but… I can’t help but feel anger whenever I think about him.”

“I think it’s understanda-“

“He’s like me,” Radegast interrupted. Vorpal paused, somewhat puzzled. “IQ of 3000 and you’re not sure why?” The Gallade smirked.

“There are differences.”

“He lives by his own code, he cares only for his own, and he’s got an ultimate goal- to live comfortably.”

“You do not kill people who get in your way.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I should have…” Radegast produced the stirring spoon with a bit of broth and taste-tested it. “If I’d struck back sooner, then maybe Maxin would…”

“The Psychic Rebellion are as numerous as they are egotistical,” Vorpal spat at the ground at the mention of their name. “By your stories, what you did was buy enough time for your Uncle to arrive to do some major damage. Tactically speaking, there wasn’t anything you could’ve done to create a better result.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“You need positive feelings to perform your abilities properly,” Vorpal replied.

“So yes.” Radegast continued stirring after finding the stew satisfactory.

“Is it working?”

“… Kinda…” The Gallade reached for a series of shakers made from bamboo. He sniffed each and dropped a dash of some into the pot.

“Not even Celebi can change the past,” Vorpal pat Radegast’s back, “Focus on the future.”

“Heh… Now I’m wondering how Skyva would feel about all this,” Radegast stirred.

“Lord-Regent!” Crystal entered, “How’s the stew coming?”

“Very well, thank you,” Radegast replied, “But what’s wrong with Radegast?”

“You are still the Lord-Regent to us,” Crystal replied.

“Yeah, but…” Radegast recalled a rather sobering encounter. He, Jakob, and Elder met up with a Skrelp messenger the day before.

—

“What’s the situation?” Radegast asked.

“To be honest, if they found out I went to see you, I’d be exiled,” The Skrelp chirped meekly.

“That’s not a good sign,” Elder cringed.

“While you have done an incredible service for the King of Depths in the past, this sacrifice has left a void among the Seven Clans, and we’re now in a turmoil. Between you willingly boarding the Olympus-

“Unintentionally,” Radegast added, “I didn’t know they were Regicide Crew.”

“Regardless, you boarded the Olympus. Despite intentions, the Regicide Crew has amassed a terrible power, and we have wound up weaker with the loss of the King of Depths. The remaining Six have placed blame at your feet.”

Radegast grit his teeth, but Elder spoke up. “He never asked for this shit. All he did was help wild Pokemon like us! What’s your problem?”

“Elder…”

“No,” Elder jabbed at Radegast, “You’re the kindest, most understanding human on this entire planet and he doesn’t deserve this shit from you Skrelp.”

“I’m just the messenger,” the Skrelp replied, “I’m only here because I’m one of the few who still like you guys.”

“It’s alright,” Radegast placed a hand on Elder’s head. The Gengar sniffled as tears formed in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“I know,” the Skrelp replied, “Friend-Elder is right, you are an understanding human… It’s just out of my control- or most everyone else’s.”

“How will this affect the relationship with Absolute and Weyloran?” Jakob asked.

“We’re planning to meet up and discuss this development and how we’ll take on the Regicide Crew going forward,” the Skrelp replied, “I know you and Absolute are on good terms, but I also know that Weyloran is on bad terms with your Demonslayer friend. Personally, I think the best-case scenario is that Absolute disowns any relationship with you.”

“I wouldn’t wanna make Absolute feel like she owes me one,” Radegast chuckled, “It really was no big deal.”

The Skrelp gave Radegast an odd look. “You’re too kind…”

“It just isn’t fair…” Elder huffed.

“Look on the bright side,” Radegast chimed as he pumped an arm, “There is one way we can all be friends again: We take down the Regicide Crew ourselves.”

—

The stew was well-received by the inhabitants of the Treehouse. After brunch, everyone split off on their respective duties and hobbies, while Radegast continued his training. This time, he worked with the meditation balls. They were difficult at-first, but after several hours, he had gotten one direction down perfectly.

At least once a week, Jakob would make his way to the berry farms on Melemele in order to exchange Akalan materials for the enormous variety of berries the Delibirds took care of. This time around, he was joined by Elder and Radegast, with his team in their respective pokeballs. Also with them was Doc Holiday.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze to stow away,” Jakob noted, “At least, a tight squeeze for a Gallade.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” Radegast’s slim, yet sturdy form seemed to fit nicely enough within an outside space. Elder melted into the Lord-Regent’s shadow to make more space, while Doc Holiday converted his projected form into a pair of meditation balls, which Radegast used as he left his other ones back at the Treehouse.

There was a knock at the Treehouse door.

The bamboo door swung open, and a shiny Dartrix stood ramrod-straight. With an ever-so-posh voice, the Dartrix spoke as he bowed lightly, holding a wing out in front with a small towel draped in front. "Welcome, welcome. How may we help you? I am Jakob, the caretaker of the Treehouse, our humble home by the Wild, for the Wild."

"Who isss it?" The hissing voice of a Salazzle emitted from further inside. "Ooh! New visitors, darling?" The Dartrix's eye twitched and a vein bulged as Jolder's head poked out from behind him, and long slender fingers looped around and caressed the Dartrix's shoulders.

"Aherm!" The Dartrix cleared his throat sharply, which resulted in the Salazzle disengaging with a snake-like chuckle. "I apologize for that... display. What can we do for you?"

"Hello," the Pokemon standing in front of them greeted, but the way the word barely caught in his throat and the slight shuffle of his feet gave away the fact that he was a bit uncomfortable. But it seemed he had enough professionalism to hide any other telling signs of the fact. His brown eyes glanced from the Dartrix to the Salazzle and back again, almost as if he was analyzing their behaviors and trying to get a read on their personality. Meanwhile, if they were trying to do the same, they would take notice that the Squirtle had common footing in this realm of behavior. He was analytical and always seemed to be searching for something.

Behind him stood two other figures, both seemed much more native to the islands of Alola than the Squirtle did. One was a rather plump Togedemaru leaning against a tree and flipping a coin in his right paw. He seemed disgruntled, but didn't say anything. Next to him stood a Marshadow who looked shy and seemed even more uncomfortable than the Squirtle did.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever you two were...erm, doing at this hour," the Squirtle went on, gesturing towards the cloudy late night sky above them, threatening rain, "But may we come in? I need to discuss something important with you. All of you, by the way."

He stressed the word "all", implying he meant the rest of the Treehouse individuals that weren't there.

At-first, the comment about "whatever they were doing" only made Jakob's bulging vein intensify with his annoyance at the sultry Salazzle. However, at the mention of "we", the vein vanished almost instantly. "More than one guest? Splendid!" At the mention of an important discussion, one of the Dartrix's normally flat eyes opened with intrigue. An unusually sharp and intense eye contrasted with his typically posh demeanour. "What about?" The Dartrix asked as he stepped aside to let the Squirtle and whoever else enter. "Come, make yourself at home."

"Thank you," the Squirtle said politely as he stepped into the humble abode. The Togedemaru and Marshadow followed right behind, the former having no problems with looking around the place while the latter kept her eyes straight forward and her hands together, like she was scared to touch anything.

"Ya know," the Togedemaru's vividly aggressive voice proclaimed, "I've heard many a rumor about this place. I didn't know you'd made your little refuge look so fancy!"

"Yes, it is a vertable bed & breakfast for all Wild Pokemon. Our resident Synthesizer produced the material that the Jungle couldn't provide."

Inside the living room, an Alakazam lounged in a bamboo chair specifically tailored for a lazy-bones. The Salazzle snaked back into the kitchen. A pair of visiting Psyducks stepped down the stairs, looking quite content over a good night's sleep. For once in their lives, they didn't appear to have headaches. As the two Psyducks left after exchanging pleasantries, a Porygon-Z emerged from the Demonslayer shrine in the back room. "A squirtle?" Doc Holiday asked, "Not native to Alola. On some sort of business, it seems." His pointed snout turned to Jakob the Dartrix, "Thoth and North should be back shortly, by my calculations."

"I imagine you want to speak with all of us," Jakob nodded. "Can we get you anything to eat or drink?"

"I'm good. Thanks though," the Squirtle gave a small half-smile as he sat down. The Togedemaru was quick to raise a paw up.

"Watcha got on the menu?" he asked.

"House specialty," Jolder replied with a wink. "But we've got lots of berry drinks."

As the Togedemaru began relaying his order, the Squirtle turned to Doc Holiday, "It's a pretty nifty location you've got here. Why'd you pick it?"

"It is an excellent location out of reach from human contact. The cave opening is shaped so that it's difficult to spot from up high, and for those who can't climb up the mountain, we have our resident rock-climbing experts and muscle- Oh, speak of the devil!"

True to Doc Holiday's word, the Magneton and Night-form Lycanroc entered, carrying with them one leaf-covered satchel each.

"YOU DARE CALL ME DEVIL, COMPUTER WRETCH!?" Thoth bellowed. Without any communication, the Lycanroc handed the Magneton his satchel. North the Magneton headed into the kitchen to hand off the gathered ingredients.

"Yep!" Doc Holiday returned in stride with a gleeful look on his face. "You wanna fight about it?"

"WE SHALL CROSS FISTS LATER!" Thoth announced in a very scenery-chewing manner, "WE HAVE GUESTS!!"

"They wish to talk to us about something," Jakob shut the both of them up with his posh voice. "Now that we're all here, what business do you bring?"

"Right," the Squirtle shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly, "Well, I guess I should introduce myself and my fellow members. My name's Sarik, and these two are Smoky aaaaannnndd..." he held that word as he turned around to glance at the somewhat offended Togedemaru.

"Barb!" he stated.

"Oh yes! I remember you two," Jakob chuckled as he made a deep bow, "My apologies, we've dealt with quite a few things over here."

"Right! Barb," Sarik turned back to the Treehouse, letting out a nervous chuckle, "As you can see, we're not exacty familiar with each other yet. But anyway, we are part of an organization caled the Crimson Guild. Have any of you heard of it?"

"It's familiar. I may have heard a tale or two when I was off Alola. Fellow wildlings doing jolly good things." Jakob responded. In reality, it was Radegast's stories, but not many wildlings were that keen on the founder being a human... at least until they met the human. Until Radegast returned for whatever reason, they were back with their typical stories on their founding: Doc Holiday and Jakob being the main partners.

Jolder and North shortly arrived with a few large plates between them. Three of them were covered in wooden bowls filled with garden salads with a mix of nuts and berries. Only some of them had strips of meat "acquired" by Jolder through "legitimate means". On the fourth plate was a large set of cups, all of them were filled with different kinds of freshly squeezed berry juice.

"What does the Crimson Guild want with our little Treehouse, if you don't mind me asking?" Jakob got down to brass tacks as the dishes were being distributed across the well-crafted wooden table.

Sarik examined the layout, nodding thoughtfully, "Nothing really. But if opportunity presents itself, I've got to say you have one of the most secluded spots in the Alola Region. It took these two to even find you guys and they barely knew where they were going. No offense, by the way." He added to Barb and Smoky.

Barb was in the middle of tearing through one of these bowls when he glanced up at the Squirtle and shot him a look. "Mmf...you try'n find a place you've never been before!" he said with a mouth ful of food.

"I have. Many times," Sarik answered back, "Do you stil have that flag Crimson gave you?"

"I gave it to Smokes over there," the Togedemaru pointed in her direction, not wanting to be bothered. Meanwhile, she held up the square cloth, folded neatly in her shadowy hand. She handed it off to Sarik.

"I see," Jakob replied, "Well, make yourself at home! The Treehouse is a place by Wildlings for Wildlings!"

Sarik's smile grew a bit bigger, "Much appreciated, but I'm taking off after this. I've got a school to run and every minute I'm away is a minute something's probably not being done. So I'll try to make this brief We'll see how far I get." He stood up from the comfortable chair he'd been sitting in and walked over to the waiting Dartrix, handing him the cloth.

"You don't have to do it of you don't want to, but could you guys be our eyes and ears for the Alola Region? We're trying to network ourselves so we can have at least one Crimson Guild branch on each region and we haven't started over here yet. All you'd need to do is hang that flag somewhere to where a Pelipper can see it and one of our own will swoop in and gather information you guys have collected about the wilding side of things down here. You guys already have a wilding safe haven set up here to begin with, so I'm safe to bet you guys hear about a lot of things that go on over here, right?"

"I think we can do that," Jakob and Vorpal exchanged glances. "We do get plenty of news all around the islands from visitors... Actually, there was something recent- something that could affect other regions in the future."

"Demonbreath," Vorpal nodded. "He's out there somewhere."

Sarik's eyes lit up, "And that was the thing I wanted to talk to you about. Any information you guys have on what you saw pertaining that...incident...would help us out greatly. We'd also like to know about the whereabouts of this "Demonslayer" we've heard about. Or maybe she goes by a different name...like, I dunno...Suros, maybe?" Sarik beaded around the bush a bit with that name, unsure if they would be familiar with the crew they knew a while back.

This time, Jakob exchanged looks with Jolder. The Salazzle's sultry eyes seemed to soften somewhat. After a moment of consideration, Jakob replied, "The Demonslayer sometimes comes here. There's a shrine to their achievement through that door there," the Dartrix jerked a thumb-esque feather to the back door under the stairs, "But we respect their wishes to keep their privacy. They've been through enough as-is." The pain of her own injuries distracted her somewhat from Radegast's terrible fate, but she still looked like she had a cloud drizzling over her during their last span of time in the Treehouse.

"As for what happened," Vorpal continued, "A human criminal group called the Regicide Crew had stolen a device that resurrected Pokemon from fossils. They had used it to resurrect Demonbreath of all creatures. The worst part is they've managed to take control of him."

Sarik curled his lip, "Take control of him? Like, they managed to capture him?"

Vorpal nodded, "They've captured a Necrozma to do it."

"Any clue on where they are and where they might be heading?"

"None." Jakob answered. In truth, they really didn't know. Nobody could know. "Last we heard, they've taken significant damage from the struggle, and hid out in the wide ocean to make repairs."

"Then we'll have to keep our eyes open looking for them. And if we see something, then...um, actually I'm not sure how we do this." Sarik looked down, deep in thought, "We usually have a flare system that can call the Crimson Guild to your location if there's serious trouble...like, world-ending trouble. But that's not gonna work considering how far away the Alola Region is to HQ. So..."

"Do they have anyone that's fast through the water?" Smoky suddenly proposed to Sarik, barely audible from her spot on the couch.

"No... wait..." Weyloran's clan was out of the question, and recently the Seven Clans had all but disowned their relationship due to... whatever was happening down there. That left... "Hmm..." Jakob glanced at Vorpal, who nodded in recognition. The Alakazam hovered from his seat and moved upstairs.

"I heard tell of an island that was being attacked by the Regicide Crew," Jakob said as the sounds of books being flung about could be heard from upstairs. "They managed to beat them back when a sympathetic human came by and taught them to surf via one of their tech machines." Radegast told this story as well in person. "Vorpal's getting a map. I'll see what we can do to make contact with them."

The Squirtle flared his brow a bit at the term "sympathetic human" but said nothing, "That'll work. In which case, all you'd need to do is send someone over to the Crimson Guild HQ to let them know something's going down. I can relay coordinates and even show you where it is if you happen to have a map of the Kalos Region."

"No Kalos map, unfortunately," Vorpal replied as he returned with several rolled-up strips of parchment. The largest of them was a map of Alola with markings around the ocean where smaller islands dotted the globe. The smaller pieces had more detailed maps of said smaller islands.

"Not many opportunities to go on a trip," Jakob joked as he beamed with pride, "Not when you have a home like this.

Sarik laughed in response, "Oh, I understand that. I happen to live on an island myself. Kind of far away from most places and I'm pretty tied down to my job running a school of soon-to-be Crimson Guild members, so I don't really get to go out much. But I enjoy what I do, much like you guys."

"We are kindred spirits then," Jakob raised a cup- the last one that was handed out. Many wildlings used the Treehouse as a safe house, so having a relationship like this was right up their alley. Especially since the Seven Clans... are doing whatever they're doing now. Smoky added to the acknowledgement by raising her own cup, albeit awkwardly. Although Sarik didn't have a cup to raise, he still nodded his head as an attempt to toast. Barb was too busy decimating his plate of food to take much notice in the conversation.

"I'll see if I can have a map sent over to you guys," the Squirtle said after a moment of thought, "At least while you guys are trying to get that island on board."

Vorpal seemed to take a special interest in the small, spherical, somewhat metallic rodent that seemed more like a wolf whilst chowing down. He remembered Barb from Radegast's and Jakob's story from their time on Ula'ula. Jakob was busy chatting with Sarik, so the Alakazam took initiative. Specifically, it was a Togedemaru with a Marshadow. Marshadows were... not exactly common, after all. "Aren't you the ones Jakob met before? I heard you guys were trying Feebas?" Even a lazybones like Vorpal, with his IQ of approximately 5000, knew that Feebas were unpalatable at-best.

Smoky gaped at the Alakazam, "Y-You know about that?"

Vorpal chuckled lightly, "Jakob told us about it, him and the Lo-" he caught himself, but trying to hide it would seem suspicious. Besides, the title wasn't universally known. What were the chances they would know it? "The Lord-Regent."

"The Lord-Regent?" Smoky repeated, recalling the encounter, "Is that what you call the human?"

"What human?" Jakob asked. The shiny Dartrix glanced between the three visitors, but shot a nanosecond of a glare toward Vorpal. The Alakazam shrugged apologetically.

"Hey, yeah..." Barb had been paying attention and turned towards Jakob quizzically, "Where is the human we met before?"

"Oh, that human," Jakob hooted a sigh.

Doc Holiday spoke up, realising the jig was pretty much up. "Normally we try to hide the fact that the founder is the Lord-Regent himself. It makes the whole "by wildlings, for wildlings" seem like a lie, you know?"

"Not many consider humans to be wild," Vorpal agreed.

"Plus it's a safe house from that Psychic Rebellion nonsense," Jolder hissed.

Now it was Sarik's turn to raise a brow, "You guys know about the Psychic Rebellion?"

"Oh yes, they really hate the Lord-Regent. It's why he came here recently."

Sarik leaned in, careful how to word his next sentence, "Sounds a lot like Radegast."

"Indeed," Jakob agreed, then for a beat, he nodded slowly, but suddenly he flinched in an epiphany. "Oh, you know about him too?"

Vorpal swatted Jakob over the head. "Duh, the Crimson Guild's an ally, my dude."

"Why didn't you remind me sooner?" Jakob asked incredulously.

Vorpal shrugged. "Laziness, I guess."

"At least you're self-aware." Jakob rubbed the back of his head with a feathered hand.

"Oh let me kiss it better," Jolder offered.

With a flash of annoyance on his typically professional butler-esque demeanour, Jakob bolted upstairs, dropping hidden leaf-knives as he scrambled. Jolder sauntered after him at a slow page.

"Um...aaaannnyyywaaaayyy..." Sarik said apprehensively, "We're looking for him as well. Last we heard, he was an active participant in that battle with Demonbreath. Anything he knows, we should know."

The house grew silent. The mood swiftly turned to a similar chill to when they were discussing Suros. Jakob and Jolder returned from their shenanigans.

Sarik felt the atmospheric change, his own gut filling with dread, "Uh-oh...that doesn't sound reassuring. What happened?"

"A lot's happened, actually." Jakob sat down. "The Seven Clans are in disarray... we think... the Regicide Crew's got that new power- like we said- and Radegast..."

Vorpal returned upstairs- this time he took a mere moment- and he returned with a map of the continent where Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh were located. The map appeared to have been marked down in places by Radegast himself.

"He's got a lot of drive now," Jakob warned as he spread the map out on an empty section of table. With a single feather, he tapped down on a location in Kanto, labelled 'LEFT'. "By now, he may not be there anymore. There are a couple more places you could check if you're looking to find him," He tapped on a couple more areas. A location deep in the wilderness away from civilizations, labelled 'GRAV' and a location in Hoenn labelled 'HER'. That marking appeared to be more recent compared to others. "If he's been to both of them and left already, the trail would officially be cold, because he would be impossible to track."

"Understood," Sarik said, "We can work fast, then. Anything I should know about these places...or even about Radegast? I know he about disappeared after the Unova blast, so it's possible he could've donned a disguise."

"A disguise... I guess you could call it that," Jolder noted, albeit sombrely.

It was Smoky who caught the tone in his voice, "He's different now, isn't he?"

Jakob nodded. "There's a fire in his eyes now, and it's growing. If he's left to his own devices... well, I'll start feeling bad for the Regicide Crew, and the Rebellion."

Sarik stood up, staring out the window towards the rolling thunder in the distance, "Let's hope so. We could always use less bad guys in the world." He clapped his hands, "Okay, in that case, we better get searching. I'll let Crimson know where he's heading and see what we can do to find him. In the meantime, I hope you don't mind the company of Barb and Smoky. They're the current acting ambassadors into the Crimson Guild and they can handle the official business we may have so you guys don't have to."

"We can?" Barb looked up at the Squirtle, confusion in his eyes...maybe even a little bit of panic.

"I have absolute trust that you both can lead Pokemon interested in joing the Crimson Guild where they need to go. You know where the HQ is and I told you where the Sunrise Division was, so you should be fine."

Sarik started moving towards the exit, Barb and Smoky watching him go. With a renewed vigour, the treehouse caretakers got to work with the usual routine of handling guests. North and Thoth headed outside to perform some chores around the rest of the cave grounds, while the remainder continued to provide the tour. With Jakob at the helm, they were showed around, including showing them the different rooms and the like. When they got to Radegast's room, Jakob said, "This one's currently in use." It was true; it was where Metronome kept under wraps before and after Radegast was there.

"And also here's the shrine," Jakob opened the door into the back room on the ground floor. A series of chairs, benches, and cushions littered the area, with a single pedestal at the far back. Above the pedestal was a depiction of orange flame and blue ice meeting green hatred. On the pedestal itself lay a shrivelled-up Dragonite antennae. "We pay our respects to those who fell to Demonbreath here." He gazed at the poster- which had been woven in Mareeep wool and knitted.

"Wow..." there was mix of awe and remorse in Smoky's stare as she looked over the shrine and it's complexity. She knew the legend through and through, but she'd yet to see anything commemmorating such an accomplishment until now...only the words of legend passed between the wildings.

"Hard to believe he's back," Jolder muttered, "I wonder if Weyloran knows..."

"I'm sure she does. You could see the fight from every island," Jakob replied, "Maybe... we could contact them as well."

"We haven't heard from them since they left to meet with Absolute, didn't they?" Doc Holiday asked.

Jakob nodded, "Hope they're doing fine."

Vorpal flinched, an unusual thing to happen to such a borderline sleeping Alakazam. "You alri-" Before Jakob could finish the question, a shrill scream emitted from above them. With no time to waste, the Dartrix extended his wings and bolted once more upstairs.

Metronome, the Meloetta, burst from the door to Radegast's room, eyes wide and bloodshot. She nearly collapsed on the ground if not for the Dartrix's swift catch.

"Metronome!" Jakob cawed, "What happened?!" He barked an order for water, which Jolder snaked away to retrieve without a quip. "Vorpal! Any ideas?"

"I felt something," Vorpal said, "It was like, some chill down my spine... It didn't feel natural, but I don't think it'd be enough to cause something like this."

Jolder returned with a bottle of water, which Radegast had left behind. Popping the cap off, Jakob carefully fed the shivering Meloetta.

"Easy, easy," Jakob cooed, "It's alright, you're alright."

"It's n-not alright," Metronome cried, "She's s-s-still out th-th-there."

Jakob and the others exchanged worried looks. Metronome was always a kind and gentle soul when she lived here, and they did know about her little jail break with Radegast. This mention of a 'she' was something entirely new. "She?" Jakob asked, albeit with caution.

Metronome couldn't quite bring the words out. "Th-th-the Inhuman," she managed to say after a great amount of stammering. "I haven't f-f-felt that p-pressure ever since..."

Vorpal's face went pale as he came up with several theories, with a few of them having terrible implications on their connection to this event. "The one who captured you?" He asked.

Metronome nodded, and drank another gulp of water. "Did she..." Jakob couldn't bear the idea of torture, but given Metronome's reaction to such an unusual ripple, there were some things that just couldn't be denied. One look at such a fearful reaction from such a mythical creature, however, told the Dartrix that it had to be true. "Who is she, exactly?"

"An abomination," She managed to gasp after that gulp. "A true abomination."

Alola Route 8

--

"Timothy... We need to keep moving! The project site has to be secured before we can proceed, after all!"

A young woman ran down the route, making it to a designated point alongside a man. Both wore similar uniforms, with the man's uniform trading the skirt for pants.

"Easy for you to say, Gabrielle! You've always been more athletic than I."

"Oh, I just refuse to let Kyukyubu down! I want that next tier of bonuses!"

"Pyuku?"

Her Pyukumuku made noises of the kind she just found so cute. Giggling, she patted its head before giving it a high-five. The next site wasn't far, and it was to set up the area for construction of a device that could use the winds and water in the area to form a sort of renewable energy. The kind of stuff that made her get excited.