Repentance

Warning: this one shot contains themes/triggers such as: Death of Humanity, backstory violent deaths, visual descriptions, descriptions/showing of blood, “flared emotions”/raised voices, thunderstorms/lightning/flashes of light, destruction of property/a building, self doubt, body horror, and possession 

A shiny blue-eyed Raboot stood in a dim torch-lit marble corridor, which was lined with broken windows and the scattered remnants of once grand statues. 

Torn and faded crimson curtains fluttered in the strong winds, only just clinging to their broken rods that perched above the shattered glass, which were set in perfectly measured carved openings spanning the length of the desecrated hallway.  

And yet Rune recalled a time when this hallway was pure, untarnished, and whole. He recalled when small heraldic flags hung on small flag poles around the castle; gonfalons were placed in nearly every room; pristine furniture and decorations filled well-lit rooms, and lined marble walls that were so clean you could see your reflection on the carved bricks; festivals and gatherings livened the atmosphere; and most of all, there were no world-ending threats. No destinies or prophecies… no spending time wondering if he had been trained enough, whether or not he was ready to face the emerging ancient evil…

He had just been himself. A young human child walking the halls of Ebrus Castle without a care in the world. His friends by his side, the best teachers in the land for his studies, and a supportive family. 

Now all that remained was the eerie stillness of a place frozen in time: a tomb for countless victims. A sealed and decaying reminder of what had once existed.

Rune shook himself, banishing those thoughts. Now was not the time to reminisce, not when the end of his troubles was so close… 

The Raboot clenched a furry fist as he glared at the carved wooden doors that towered overhead, doing his best to ignore the stagnant musty air as he self-consciously adjusted the red scarf around his neck. In addition to it hurting his throat and lungs whenever he breathed in, the miasma put him on edge. 

Flashes. Cruel laughter, an echo of betrayal, a clash of steel, a great pain… 

The shiny Raboot flinched, clutching at his head with his paws. ‘Will I be successful this time? Will I redeem myself?’ These thoughts and more filled his mind until he threatened to succumb to his past failures. 

A familiar voice reached Rune. A cloth hand on his right shoulder. Another voice joined in, a warm furred arm wrapping around him in a hug. 

Rune forced himself back to reality and looked to either side while taking silent comfort in the kind gestures. A Honedge and Quilava were there, each looking at him with concern. 

“I’m fine.” He was not in the least bit fine, but he shrugged off Archimedes and Fi before taking a step towards the doors. 

“Are you sure about this, Rune? I don’t think Gauldur intends to leave the throne room. We could always go rest somewhere and come back,” Archimedes suggested hopefully, clearly not wanting to move forward by the scared look in his eyes and how fluffed up his fur was. 

The shiny Raboot faltered, eying his friend – his companion – with unease. “We’ve made it this far, what good would it be if we were to turn back now?” He voiced aloud, not wanting to betray his inner thoughts. ‘If you knew what I had done Before, would you still care for me?’ 

The Blade of Ebrus, as she had been named in her past life, reached out and placed her dual toned purple cloth hand on the Quilava’s shoulder. “I’ll be here for you, Archimedes.” Fi smiled, her lone golden eye shining brightly in the dim light of the corridor. 

Arch smiled back and nodded as his fur slowly flattened, his fear diminishing slightly. “Thank you, Fi.” He drew a deep breath and looked up at the wooden doors. “Now or never, right?” 

Rune didn’t bother to glance at either of them. “Now or never.” He agreed, before he stepped forward and placed a paw on each wooden door. 

Rusted hinges flaked; the wood shuddered and resisted the movement. The shiny Raboot gathered his strength and shoved the wooden doors aside, causing them to crash into the walls opposite their hinges. 

For the first time in eons, Rune stepped into the throne room of what once had been Ebrus Castle – the place where he had died. 

Dust visibly filtered through cracked and stained glass windows, which showed the dark storm clouds that had followed Rune and his friends on their journey here to Ebony Keep. 

Despite the darkness outside, there was enough natural light shining through the windows to slightly brighten the area, which revealed a mostly empty space save for fallen pillars, cracked tiles, and remnants of tapestries on the walls. 

Overhead, the approaching storm finally broke, and rain began to downpour on the roof.

Rune’s gaze briefly fell on a large heraldic symbol carved into the floor – it had faded with time and was visible if you stared at it for long enough, but he knew what had once been there – and then focused on what lay beyond. 

A gigantic shiny Haxorus perched on a broken tarnished throne at the end of the once grand space, an aged bronze chandelier casting shadows across the room as the dragon’s crimson eyes flashed with recognition. 

Gauldur leaned forward, his cracked claws digging into the stone throne’s arms as he drew a deep breath. “You finally decided to show your face before me.” His gravelly deep voice echoed in the near darkness. “After all this time of wondering and waiting, was it worth it?” 

The Haxorus slowly rose from the broken throne and stepped down the crumbing steps to the aged marble tile floor, his frayed red and gold cloak sweeping aside cobwebs and pebbles as the room shook from each movement. “Was it worth it, Lee, remembering that it was you who ruined this land and damned humanity in the process?” 

Archimedes watched from the doorway, frozen with terror at the sight of the Great Evil himself. The Quilava’s heart thumped like he had run for miles, his mind whirling with confusion and dread. His throat felt dry and he ignored the urge to go off and find something to quell his sudden thirst. “Rune?” he whispered shakily, unsure if the Raboot could hear him. “What is Gauldur talking about?” 

Rune said nothing, raising his head as he watched the Haxorus approach. 

“I see that you have brought allies with you this time. Have you told them the truth? The truth of why I am standing before you, and why you recalled nothing upon awakening as the small fire rabbit?” Gauldur questioned the Raboot as he continued to slowly stalk towards Rune. 

“I don’t remember how I died, only that you were there,” Rune growled as he stood his ground. “I’ve reclaimed most of my memories, but of what exactly happened here in the throne room, or why I awoke with no memories, I do not know.” 

The Haxorus faltered and snorted as he moved to adjust his cloak on his shoulders. “So you say. Have you considered that your mind was wiped clean as a measure of protection?” 

The shiny Raboot’s azure-blue eyes widened. “No…” He hesitated. “How do you know this?” 

Archimedes and Fi were still standing together near the doors. They had collectively decided to let Rune talk to Gauldur, to let their friend get some sort of closure. 

The Quilava didn’t know what to think. So much new information had been thrown at him within such quick succession that his head hurt trying to make sense of any of it. 

However, unlike Rune, Fi had never lost her memories of the time Before, and so she remained silent, holding back emotions as her friend stood alone against the current manifestation of the Great Evil. 

“I have knowledge of many things.” The Haxorus ignored the question. “Gwonam was my second in command until he decided to act against my orders and attempt to kill you, destroying Glendale in the process. It was he who informed me of your movements, your plans, your progress in finding the Sigil Shards…” Gauldur’s eyes flickered to the rectangular object hanging from Rune’s guild bag. “And there it is… the Sigil Slate.” 

Rune’s gaze momentarily lowered to the object, then moved back to the black-scaled Haxorus. “What about it?” 

“The artifact is not yet whole. Have you wondered where the last Shard is? How can you hope to defeat me if you lack the means to do so?” The Haxorus stated, once again eying the eight multicolored glass shards in the metallic artifact, some which were hidden behind the stone tri-feathered badge.

“I’ll figure it out.” Rune shrugged, taking a few steps away from the much larger Pokémon. “However, I didn’t travel here to make small talk with you.” 

Gauldur’s patience had been wearing thin the entire conversation, and at that exact moment, he snapped. Lee hadn’t changed at all, despite his new appearance. Memories and emotions surged forth, and all Gauldur could do was lash out. 

 “I saw you as a son!” He roared, his chipped axe blades shimmering with residual energies as he lifted his muscular charcoal tail and slammed it onto the tiled floor, defacing the aged carved heraldry and scattering it to the winds. “I raised you when your father could not. I taught you all that I knew as you helped me in the mage’s tower… and yet you betrayed me.” The Haxorus breathed, vision blurring as he felt It threatening to take control. 

“I did what I thought was right,” Rune said softly. His floppy ears flattened themselves to either side of his head, but he looked the Haxorus dead in the eyes despite his fear. “Augustine, you know I was destined from birth to ultimately stop the Crimson Tide, and I accomplished that. You were practicing forbidden magic, so I told the royal family. You were locked up for a time and released, yet you went straight back to what you were doing before—” 

“Do you have any idea of what it cost!?” the Haxorus implored. “I tried to cure you – Arceus knows I did – but despite my alchemical achievements, all of my research, nothing worked.” 

Anger was replaced by shock and disbelief. “You… You tried to cure me? All of those hours you spent toiling over ancient tomes and untranslated scrolls…” Rune raised a paw to his head as it started to hurt like an encroaching headache, while being half blinded by a flash of light from his golden-chained necklace…  

“You said you found a cure for the Crimson Tide, Mister Dernal?” 

“That I did. It is a potion, I do not know what effects it will have on you. Lee, what I give you, it very well may end your life. Are you prepared for this potential outcome?” 

“I am. Give it to me.” 

Rune blinked, the headache quickly fading as he realized he had received one last memory. “…I was given a potion…” He murmured, looking down to see the green glow retreating from the necklace’s gold-tipped emerald gemstone that rested against his gray furry chest. 

“Which failed with horrific consequences. I mercifully ended your life, but by that point, the Crimson Tide had awoken inside of you and had taken over your mind. In your last moments, you tore the object I had stabbed you with from your chest, and impaled my heart. Only then did you perish. I managed to stay alive long enough to realize what I had done, what was to happen, and then the Crimson Tide was unleashed,” Gauldur explained in a dreary tone. 

‘He killed me?’ Rune flinched and he stopped breathing for a second, having been rendered speechless. The only word he could get out was: “Why?” 

Gauldur shook his head as he turned away from his former student. “I did what I had to.” The dragon sighed, seemingly not wanting to go into further detail, as if remembering the incident was too much. 

 Only then did he acknowledge the two other figures in the room, and he scoffed. “It seems the sword spirit myths weren’t false after all,” the Haxorus stated while glancing at the floating Honedge, his crimson eyes focusing on the tri-colored scabbard – royal red, gold and blue. Colors which matched the heraldry on the floor, on the tapestries, the stained glass windows… 

Gauldur grimaced and shook his head, as if to ward off a bad memory, and then focused on the Quilava. “You, what is your name?” 

Arch froze, his fur fluffed up all over his body and he thought he was going to pass out from fear. “Arch… Archimedes Backfire, sir,” he squeaked. “I do have a question. Two, actually.” Arch launched into it without waiting for a response. “Do you two have other names? And why are you both shinies?” 

The shiny Haxorus narrowed his eyes. “We were both human before we died. Lee and Augustine are our true names.” 

“Don’t human names have power? It’s what all of us have been taught since we were hatchlings,” the Quilava replied. 

Gauldur laughed harshly, his massive tail sweeping from side to side. “You believed that? I am glad my lie was so prominent. No, human names hold no power whatsoever. I merely gave the suggestion when I was able to walk among the populations, to add a mysterious quality to what humans had once been. To address your second question, Quilava, Lee and I are influenced by the Crimson Tide. It changed our appearance and made us stronger than the average Pokémon.” 

‘So that’s why nothing happened when Gwonam said my name in Glendale all those months ago.’ Rune realized. ‘…Could I have gone by my real name all this time? And to think being shiny had a reason…’ He didn’t have long to ponder this, as a flash of steel launched itself from the shadows. 

Gauldur bellowed in pain as he staggered away from the floating Honedge, clutching at an open wound on his plated chest. “Hah… I see your proficiency has awakened due to you being alive and having a soul,” he rasped while examining his wound. 

Fi watched on with a narrowed eye as she clutched her scabbard in her cloth hand. “It is you who are the fool! You’re nothing better than the ones who rose up to take Ebrus for themselves long before you two were even conceived,” she scolded. 

Gauldur dismissed the Honedge as he reached into his cloak and withdrew a Sitrus Berry that had been placed in one of its inner pockets. He consumed the berry and waited as his wound slowly healed. “I grow tired of this conversation.” 

The shiny Haxorus turned to the side and swung his tail at Fi and Arch, which sent the two flying across the room away from Rune. 

“Your destiny is to be decided here. I too am a victim caused by the very circumstances of your birth, and now I have the chance to correct it, to avenge those the Crimson Tide decimated… and it shall start with your death.” Gauldur reached to his throat and unclasped his cloak, then threw it carelessly to the side as he began to walk towards the Raboot. “It is good that you remember, so that you can rightfully atone for your misdeeds. Do you have any last words, Hero of Ebrus?” 

“I am no hero,” Rune declared as he watched Gauldur approach. “I’m just someone who was destined to destroy the world, and was reborn for a reason I haven’t perceived yet.” He breathed in deep and relaxed, feeling a sudden calmness fill his body. “If my lot in life is to be decided in this moment…Then so be it.” 

Lee didn’t resist when the former Grand Mage reached his location and grabbed him with ease, lifting him into the air. 

Lee Arvicus didn’t attack Gauldur even in self defense as the shiny Haxorus’ scales flashed a bright lavender, claws sharpening and cutting into the skin beneath his fur. 

Lee Arvicus, the Savior… Refused.

 ‘I will not be fate’s pawn a second time.’ 

For this choice, he was merely tossed away and thrown across the throne room. There was a slight pain as his body made contact with a cold surface, the sensation of falling, lots of noise, and then there was nothing at all. 

---

Arch had screamed himself hoarse. 

Gauldur had thrown Rune across the throne room, and the shiny Raboot had vanished beneath a pile of rubble as a result of him hitting a wall. 

The dragon had then stormed off out of view behind a set of broken wooden doors at the back of the throne room, as if something had gotten his attention. 

The Quilava was frozen in place, his vision blurring with tears as he sobbed helplessly. He keened aloud, no longer caring of what he had set out to accomplish. Rune – his best friend – was most likely dead because he had failed to react in time. 

A cloth hand grabbed his arm and pulled him backwards, away from where the rampaging shiny Haxorus had disappeared, towards the safety of the shadows. 

Archimedes didn’t resist, the fighting having left his body entirely. His vision cleared enough that he saw Fi floating before him. “There’s no use,” the Quilava sobbed. “Rune is de—”

“Nonsense,” Fi scolded as she wagged a lone purple cloth finger before the Quilava with a narrowed eye. “I have a bond with Lee, you know.” 

Archimedes didn’t breathe for a second. He gazed at the Honedge with wide tear-filled amber eyes. “What?” he choked out. 

Fi nodded, reaching out with her cloth hand and wiping away the Quilava’s tears. “I’ve known Lee since he found me in a forest one day. He was a few years younger, yet I recognized his fighting spirit and a yearning to help the world he lived in. In my past life, I was the Blade of Ebrus, just a normal sword with no spirit to think of, yet I was somehow sentient in a way. I helped your friend’s ancestors when various evil beings threatened the land, and I extended that promise to Lee. In doing so, a Soul Bond was formed. He’s still alive, Archimedes.” 

The Quilava took this information in with a furrowed brow. “You knew him as a human? You said you weren’t a Pokémon back then.” 

“Yes. I knew Gauldur – Augustine – as a human, though not as well,” the Honedge explained. 

Still pondering the knowledge he had been given, Archimedes reached out and lifted Gauldur’s discarded cloak from where it had been tossed. The longer he looked at the fabric, the more an idea began to form in his head. 

Archimedes turned towards the nearby Honedge. “Fi, I’m going to need you to create a distraction.” 

Fi’s sole eye flashed with eagerness. “Leave that to me.” 

---

Said distraction consisted of a combination of Flame Wheeling and creating Metallic Sounds all around the throne room. 

The harsh clanging noises and fire cartwheels had caused Gauldur to rapidly reappear from where he had vanished behind the doors. 

While the two desperately attempted to keep Gauldur occupied, the rocks that had fallen and buried Rune began to shift. Piece by piece, pebble by pebble, the debris grew smaller and smaller still; a fiery glow was cast off the back wall, then a blur launched forward. 

Rune threw himself at the large Haxorus, his paws aglow with a pale turquoise. 

Archimedes and Fi halted in their tracks, causing the two to spin uncontrollably until they fell to the tiled floor. Once their vision cleared, both Pokémon saw Gauldur clutching at an icy patch of scales on his chest. 

Directly after this, the shiny Haxorus staggered, stumbled, then fell to one knee and dug his claws into the cracked tiled floor. A powerful blast was unleashed due to the buildup of restrained energy, the crimson wave dissipating upon reaching the walls of the throne room. 

“Heh… In a way, I am proud of you, Lee.” This was no longer the infamous evil Gauldur. Instead, Rune’s old, tired friend, mentor, father Augustine kneeled before him, on the brink of collapse. 

Augustine lifted his head to gaze at the Raboot. “Although I am afraid I waited too long.” 

“For what?” 

The Haxorus drew a shuddering breath as he reached up to clutch at his plated chest. “The Crimson Tide – the Shadow Plague – I have spent eons harboring it inside my body…” 

A purple glow resonated over the dragon’s scales and he flailed for a moment before finding purchase on the tiles. “It is too late for me. Soon, within the half hour, the Crimson Tide will be unleashed, and it will destroy me in the process…” 

“Is there anything I can do?” Rune spoke for his two friends, suddenly wishing they hadn’t ventured into the castle ruins with him. 

The Haxorus smiled sadly and raised a clawed hand towards Rune, as if to touch him in a comforting gesture. “I know you will never forgive me for my actions, but I ask of you one thing, young mister Arvicus: slay me. End my life so that the Crimson Tide does not succeed a second time.” 

Rune bared his teeth as he glared up at the dragon. “It was only unleashed because you decided to take matters into your own hands—” 

“It was going to do so regardless. Whether you died from old age or some accident or illness. Your death was the catalyst. I thought if I could fulfill the prophecy in a measured way, I could prevent it from spreading from beyond this room, beyond the castle… I was wrong.” Augustine grimaced as a pulse of maroon energy cascaded over his body. 

“After you drew your last breath, blood began to pour from your still warm body. It began to shimmer, to form into a physical state – it was looking for a new host you see, and it found one. Me. My last moments were the Crimson Tide using its essence to destroy the throne room to its current state, and to take over my corpse,” Augustine told Rune, pain and urgency visible in his eyes and audible with his voice. “After a time, I awoke in this body, devoid of my own memories, save for the sense that I was incomplete, and that I needed to find what made me whole: you. That was the Crimson Tide influencing what remained of my mind, but I eventually overcame it to realize the truth. I have spent most of my time here scaring trespassers away in the hopes that the Crimson Tide wouldn’t be unleashed again.” 

It was only then that Rune truly understood. Rune went silent as he stared at the tile floor. It all made sense now. All of those strange and unusual impulses, thoughts, actions… memories… 

While Rune was lost in his reminiscing, Augustine lifted himself up and gazed out the largest window. “Tonight is a very special night. It only occurs once each century, when the conditions are met. The Blood Moon is soon to rise over the horizon. When this happens, the Crimson Tide is at its strongest.” 

The dragon raised a trembling arm and directed Rune’s attention to his words. “Due to you being here, the energies… From you being its previous host from birth… it will attempt to reclaim you. Do not let that happen,” he stated firmly. 

A silence fell, save for the wind battering at the walls and the rain pounding against the roof. For there was nothing to do but wait for the inevitable moon rising over the horizon… 

“There’s something I don’t understand,” Archimedes spoke up, and watched as Rune and Augustine turned to look at him. “What’s the Shadow Plague, then?” 

“What you Pokémon named the Crimson Tide. It affects you differently. Instead of dying from blood loss, it heavily influences negativity, turning it into a dark mist or fog that consumes the mind of those affected. It makes them vicious and uncontrollable, large and dangerous…” Augustine explained to Archimedes. 

The Quilava reared up on his hind legs. “You said that my friend is in danger. How can that be when you’re standing before us? All along, Rune said he had to travel here to stop the corruption.” 

“Your friend was right, in a way,” the Haxorus began, but Rune held up a paw. 

“Let me tell him.” The Raboot slowly walked up to Archimedes. “Arch… Everything that my former teacher said is true. I’m the one that caused humanity to die off, the one to destroy the world, the one that made Arceus bring Pokémon here to Hylios.” 

Archimedes’ face quivered as he fought back tears. “What?” He couldn’t believe it. Rune – steadfast, selfless, the Savior – had … He grit his teeth. “That doesn’t change who you are now.” The Quilava was mentally reeling, but he forced himself to continue. “Remember when we first met? When I said I’d fight by your side no matter what? What you just told me is about your past, who you used to be.” 

Rune stayed quiet, but gave a nod for his friend to keep talking; the two small crescent sapphire earrings on his lower outer ears jangled from the motion. 

“You’re no longer the small timid Scorbunny who ended up on my family’s doorstep after my sister found you. You’re now a Raboot who I’ve traveled the region with, fought powerful Pokémon, climbed the highest mountains and traveled to desolate places to stop the Shadow Plague. If anyone can stop this from happening, it’s you.” 

Archimedes continued despite Rune not responding, now turning towards the nearby Haxorus after tightening his backwards blue neck scarf. “All my life, I’ve heard stories and myths and rumors about you. About how you were a terrible monster that would eat anyone who ventured into these ruins, or how you would randomly attack settlements and make everyone sick from the Shadow Plague, or that you would be spotted in the Barrens, destroying whatever you could get your hands on.” The Quilava slowly shook his head. “I personally don’t think you deserve this fate. Not after everything that I’ve heard.” 

The shiny Haxorus blinked, his voice filled with amazement. “After all that I’ve done, you truly think that I deserve any amount of forgiveness?” 

The Quilava nodded. “The fact that you could have chosen to go to settlements to corrupt everyone, or that you could have unleashed the Shadow Plague, or Crimson Tide – or whatever it’s called now – without any effort at all… That you didn’t do any of this proves to me that you’re as much a victim as everyone else. You chose isolation to save everyone.” 

The dragon went momentarily silent, closing his eyes as his body seemed to shift in color where he stood between black and crimson. “It was the only feasible option. Either destroy the world and be free, or become a prisoner and the world survives.” 

Augustine opened his eyes, then held out a clawed hand towards the three, though his words were directed towards Rune, his voice unstable. “I can give one last gift to you. Use it to stop me, use it to save this world, whether you think you deserve to or not…” 

The Sigil Slate pulsed. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

A white glow shimmered in the near darkness, quickly becoming brighter as the light turned a pink hue. It hovered in the air before the suffering Haxorus, then flew over to end up before Rune. Both Arch and Fi fell silent. 

The shimmering pink light dimmed, allowing the former human to gaze upon what the source was. 

A small piece of broken glass, radiating with fairy energies. It was the ninth Sigil Shard. 

Rune stared wordlessly at the object. Why had it appeared now? Did it think he was worthy? That he had been redeemed for the situation of his birth?

Did he truly deserve forgiveness?

Did he believe that? 

Rune looked out a nearby window. As he watched, the storm clouds parted, revealing that a small sliver of the moon was just visible over a hill beyond the valley. It continued to quickly rise into the night sky, a bright crimson mist seeming to form from it as the heavens turned blood red, lit up by the light of the full moon. 

There was a noise behind the Raboot, a sound of retreating heavy footsteps. 

Without a second thought, Rune reached out and plucked the Fairy Sigil Shard from the air, lifted the stone badge away from the artifact, then placed the glass piece in the remaining empty space of the Sigil Slate. 

The nine multicolored glass shards shimmered, then pulsed, then began to brighten with intensity as the artifact awakened to its true potential. 

Rune heard a whispered plea to run as he took the stone badge by the golden handle and reinserted it into the small slot in the Sigil Slate, then turned back towards the broken throne. 

Something compelled him to seek out Augustine, to either comfort his mentor or to make peace with himself, but a powerful wave of energy swept the Raboot off his feet and sent him flying into the wall to his right. 

The room darkened and began to then shine with an eerie ruby shade. 

There was a scream. It sounded like a soul was being torn asunder, as if someone’s very essence was being scattered to the winds. 

The Sigil Slate pulsed again, and flared up with light. The nine Sigil Shards were sparkling, and the stone badge was illuminated with a bright glow. 

The dark mist became blood-toned as it filled the room, obscuring what lay beyond the silhouette of the writhing beast beyond. 

Rune picked himself up from where he laid against the wall, then ran to the entrance of the throne room, avoiding falling debris, clay roof tiles, and shattered glass in his attempt to escape the destruction. 

Archimedes and Fi soon joined him, and the three friends huddled together in front of the aged wooden doors. 

The screams soon faded into mere indescribable noise, eventually dying down to an eerie stillness that was only broken by the breathing of the three Pokémon.

“…Is he dead?” Archimedes whispered, his natural flames wildly flickering on his head and back. 

Fi’s light cyan blade began to pulse and she rose into the air, her lone eye narrowing as she suddenly burst into golden blue flames. 

A stone slid across the cracked tiles and shattered upon hitting a lone standing pillar. 

Something moved in the near darkness. Dust began to rain down from the ceiling as part of the clay tile roof gave way, crashing down on the remains of the throne room and sending deadly tiny shards in all directions. 

Rune ignored the pain of being sliced by these clay shards as he stared into the shadows, an inexplicable fear rising as he began to slowly retreat backward, his claws digging into the Sigil Slate. 

The dark mist lifted just enough for a towering figure to be visible. 

Crimson eyes blinked, then focused and narrowed on Rune. A low growl soon rose into a snarl, which surged into an ear-shattering roar as something stepped forth into the moonlight. 

Shimmering blackened scales. Massive twin axe blades on either side of the head. Claws that dug grooves into the tiled floor. Glowing white-red eyes. A body that stood so tall it nearly blocked the storm-filled sky poking out from the caved-in walls and roof. 

Once a human, then reborn as a shiny Haxorus, and now something else entirely, the once Grand Mage Augustine Dernal had been utterly consumed by the one thing he had been attempting to keep at bay. 

“I am the Bane of Hylios, the Eradicator of Ebrus!” the monstrosity screeched, taking a staggering step forward as a purplish maroon mist rose from their heaving form. “I, the Crimson Tide, ended humanity here in these ruins, and so they shall be your tomb!” 

Rune stared up at the creature. Instinctively, his right paw went to his hip as if to draw a weapon… 

The massive creature loomed overhead, snorting and growling as their smoldering crimson eyes seemed to tear into Rune’s soul. 

The shiny Raboot felt cold metal and leather press itself against his palm. A cloth hand wrapped itself around his furry arm and squeezed gently as if to reassure him. He caught a glimpse of golden blue fire out of the corner of his vision – a glowing golden eye narrowed in determination – and Rune smiled to himself. 

‘If Fi believes in me, and if the Sigil Slate is responding… then maybe… just maybe… 

…I can forgive myself.’

With a surge of confidence, the Raboot then swung the Honedge upward and clashed with the Crimson Tide’s axe blades, ghostly energies casting holy fire upon the corrupted creature as both sword and rabbit roared out as one: “For Ebrus!” 

The Crimson Tide took a step back, straining to stay in place as they put a clawed hand on Fi’s blade, attempting to keep her away. 

Fi only channeled her ghostly energy to pass through the hand, then became corporal once more to end up impaling the creature in the chest. 

The Crimson Tide screeched and reared back, then a scarlet glow came from within their open maw as a high pitched whine began to fill the room. 

Fi and Rune took note of this and began to move away from the creature, attempting to get over to Archimedes, who was running towards them. 

In one swift movement, the Crimson Tide fired a blinding ruby beam from their mouth upwards – towards what remained of the roof – then swung a hand towards the approaching Quilava, sending him across the room. 

The beam struck the throne room’s ceiling, melting most of it away and exposing the area to the rain-filled heavens. 

The chandelier above came loose from its chain, and crashed down on the Crimson Tide. 

Rune leapt backwards, but was caught in the object’s collapse. He ended up in the creature’s grasp, trapped within the twisted and decayed metal cage. 

Fi had been thrown across the room by the event. She quickly righted herself and flew over to Archimedes, who had ended up near the broken throne, the Sigil Slate lying next to him. 

Together, they both quickly realized what was going to happen. 

They wouldn’t be able to save Rune this time. 

The Crimson Tide seemingly crushed Rune in their hands, and then vanished into thin air, leaving behind swirls of vermilion dust. 

The dust engulfed the shiny Raboot and his cage. Fi and Archimedes tried to get close, but the swirling dust was like a powerful wind that pushed them away. 

After what felt like an eternity, the dust settled. The metal chandelier had burned away, revealing Rune – alive and well. Except… something was wrong.

Archimedes clutched at the seeping slashes on his blood-matted chest with one paw, and picked up the Sigil Slate with the other, noticing how it seemed to react when pointed towards Rune. 

It pulsed and flashed like it had during the brief time that the Crimson Tide had existed. 

Fi’s flames had died away, but quickly reignited themselves. “…I fear the worst has happened, Archimedes.” 

Arch could only look at the artifact as it began to glow intensely. The middle of the stone badge had opened up, allowing the combined power of the nine Sigil Shards to form into a dazzling display that covered the throne room in a multi-colored light, made more intense by the Blood Moon hanging in the star-filled sky outside. 

He thought back to what Gauldur had said – “it will attempt to reclaim you”. The Quilava moved his gaze from the Sigil Slate to his friend, who now looked very different. 

Now he was tall as a Cinderace, shrouded by an auburn mist, with gleaming scarlet eyes, unkempt blackened fur, sharp claws, and large pointed fangs. 

The Crimson Tide had taken control of Rune. 

---

“There is a great darkness within you, Lee. One that not even I can cure. Take care that it does not consume you.” Augustine’s grave warning from the far past centered itself in the shiny Raboot’s mind. 

‘It has consumed me. What good am I if the past is to repeat itself? I caused the end of humanity, how can I save what’s left of the world? Do I deserve forgiveness for something I couldn’t prevent?’ 

In search of answers, Rune dreamed. He dreamt of a past life, of long dead friends and family, of what could have been, of his first life’s last moments. 

He dreamt of his awakening behind an iron gate and a large sandy arena beyond; meeting his first friend in this strange new world by a riverbank; finding the Sigil Slate in that nearby forest; meeting the guild members in a grand settlement to the north amongst lavender fields; the expedition and the discovery of the Shards in a human ruin in the shadow of a dormant volcano; traveling west to a canyon and ruined human town; getting revenge at the fighting arena on those who captured him; the betrayal and separation in a grove of cherry blossom trees before a lake. 

He dreamed of his flight to the coast, his recovery in a small village, of hearing about “a past world” and realizing his fate; returning to Glendale, confronting Gwonam, then choosing to leave the sanctuary and travel onward to fulfill his apparent destiny. 

Fighting a time-forgotten dragon on a snow capped mountain peak; taking down a cult in the desert; recovering a memory of a sword in a forest, then traveling and evolving after reaching that location; of fighting a corrupted god in a ruined temple; of returning to Glendale to find another Sigil Shard; and then the long solemn walk to Ebony Valley. 

He then dreamt of Archimedes, and finally his mind settled on a particular memory… 

“You’ve been quiet ever since we left Sacred Spring. Is something on your mind?” 

Rune and Arch were perched on wooden chairs on a railed balcony, overlooking the settlement of fairies known as the Sacred Village, surrounded by ancient trees and wooden bridges that crossed the gaps between the many branches. 

“Ever since we left Glendale, I’ve been constantly self doubting myself. I’m supposed to save the world, but how? I’m not some powerful Legendary that can cut oceans in half or summon landmasses, I’m just me.” 

“That’s where others will underestimate you, Rune. To them, you’re just a Raboot with nothing unusual to your name.” Archimedes raised a claw and pointed it at the object resting on the wooden table next to Rune. “But you have the Sigil Slate. Something that no one else possesses. We’ve overcome impossible odds before, what’s one more?” 

“We’ll get through this together, Rune. One step at a time.” Archimedes took Rune’s paw in his, and then the two hugged beneath the light of the full moon overhead. 

The two didn’t have to explore what they felt for each other right then, but they took comfort in their close bond and friendship. 

As the memory faded and he was left in the darkness of his mind, the former human focused on this bond. What did Archimedes mean to him? Someone he could rely on, that he could trust to save his life if it came down to it. Someone who cared, who had willing left his home to go on a life changing journey to the ends of the country on mere fragments of memory and rumors. 

Someone who had stayed by his side the entire time, fought back against those who wanted them to fail, and ventured into the remains of the ruling seat of a long-dead people. 

Someone… who loved him. 

The sudden surge of emotions rebelled against the darkness dwelling in Rune’s heart, and the more he focused on these emotions, the more he was able to fight back against the Crimson Tide. 

It may have not been much, but it was enough. 

---

Fi couldn’t bring herself to strike Rune, even if he was being controlled by an evil entity. Arch wasn’t faring well either. 

Within the swirling cloud of darkness, the two heard a voice: 

“You need to counter-attack the Shards!” 

Archimedes understood immediately. All of those times the two had spent strategically preparing, coming up with variations of activating the Sigil Shards, typeless moves had been created that could “break the focus of the Shards” and cancel their effects. 

It was so simple, so foolproof. 

Ignoring his injuries, the weary Quilava suddenly laughed.

Despite the seemingly overwhelming odds, he and Fi had an advantage to deal with the Crimson Tide. 

If they could free Rune from its influence, they could make sure it never threatened anyone again. 

Archimedes was filled with confidence as he got up, holding the near blinding Sigil Slate in his paws as his head and back flames roared to life, his right paw tightly gripping the slotted small golden handle attached to the back of the stone badge. 

“I can lend my power to you, but nothing more.” As he heard Fi’s words, the Quilava felt an intense surge of strength. It wasn’t quite evolution, but his flames had grown slightly and were now a golden blue, flickering wildly, casting extreme shadows all across the destroyed area. 

Ghost. Ground. Dark. Grass. Ice. Water. Psychic. Electric. Fairy. These nine type energies began to swirl around the Quilava in the form of a bright mist, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

Arch briefly wondered what this power was that the Honedge had given him, but it didn’t matter. 

What mattered now was deciding the fate of the world, and of his best friend.