Special Episode 5 – Lens

Once upon a time, the Legends worked together to keep the peace worldwide. They were many, divided into certain groups that were tasked with different areas. To help them communicate with one another, the Creator built a large structure, a tower that extended far into the sky, piercing the heavens themselves.

None of them knew the Creator, or even saw them. Instead, they communicated with a being known as the Voice,a direct subordinate.

This tower was sturdy and black, with occasional flashes of pure white light surrounding the walls. As large as it was, it was also wide, the inside bigger than the outside, with differing rooms for the lesser legends.

Not all were allowed to live inside. Certain Legends had sacred duties on the outside world, and so, the Voice tasked one Pokémon to be the leader of each group, and handed them a subordinate, another Legend, though one with a lower rank.

One of them was a majestic dragon of light, rays of sunshine clustering together to make his wonderful wings glow, like a coalescence of the most beautiful stars in the sky. In his chest was a large yellow crystal, embedded into him, and at the center, there was a sigil of an eight-pointed star.

Mortals could talk with them, usually through the use of an offering, which varied depending on the Deity they wanted to meet. This heroic dragon had a different way of thinking; he needed no offerings, but rather, an appointment. Necrozma was a busy Pokémon. However, he managed to find time in his schedule.

His room had a throne as large as him, which fit him perfectly. It was surrounded by lights that sparkled on their own, and a large carpet decorated the hallway to the throne. Windows were opened, giving him a nice view of the outside.

The large doors creaked open, and three Pokémon came out of it. Two of them were his designated subordinates; Buzzwole and Blacephalon. As for the third one… it was a Chatot, squawking in awe at the sight. He was like a speck of dust in comparison.

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Buzzwole saluted… in the form of a flex. “We did as you instructed, asking for this Chatot to come.”

Blacephalon bowed, his spherical head falling, only for him to catch it, putting it back in place. “He requested your help, sir. To help with his village.”

“Hm.” Necrozma closed his eyes. His voice was silvery: clear, light and pleasant to the ears. At the same time, it was booming and deep, showing a distance between him and a mortal. “Ah, yes. I do remember this. Very well, Chatot. Tell me… what is it that you desire?”

Chatot squawked again, flapping his wings. Feathers fell, but he ignored them. “A-Almighty, illustrious Necrozma! I’ve come here to make one humble request to you, the Blinding One.”

“Psst, Blace.” Buzzwole whispered to the other beast. “Who’d you think gave him this nickname?”

“Likely the Creator. Even if we can’t see Them, it’s the most likely option.” Blacephalon replied with another whisper. He had no mouth, so the message was sent telepathically. “Or it could be the Voice.”

Necrozma opened his eyes, barely moving from his throne. Depending on what this request was, he’d have to break a rule or two. This was fine, if it meant protecting the mortals.

“I’m listening, young one. Please, go on.”

---

Being in the presence of not one, but three Legends made saying what he wanted harder than it should have been. Chatot gulped, flapping his wings again, and trying to force a smile.

“V-Very well, Almighty Necrozma. My village…” more of his feathers fell, and the fragile smile was shattered into a frown. “It’s being overrun. We’re constantly on the threat of bandit raids, our resources are being stolen, and we’re too weak to defend ourselves. We’re farmers, not fighters. And—”

Buzzwole strolled forward, stuffing out his chest. “We mentioned this to him earlier, but he still wanted to see you, Sir.”

“Yes. We said we’re not allowed to directly interfere with the mortals’ lives.” Blacephalon added, then noticed they interrupted Chatot. “Ah, we were rash. Chatot, continue.”

“A-Almighty, Sir… could you deal with the bandits? Please, they’re ransacking and attacking innocents!” Chatot pleaded, squawking again. “I know you’re only supposed to give suggestions, not do any actions, but—”

“I’ll do it.” Necrozma said, his voice reverberating through the room. “I’m not like them. I can’t stand around and let this… keep happening. It’s not right.”

Buzzwole locked eyes with Blacephalon, then turned to the dragon. “Sir, please reconsider. You need to tell the Voice about this!”

“Yeah, but do consider it’s likely They won’t give you the permission you want!” Blacephalon added, his head popping and reforming from the shock.

Necrozma snarled, slapping his tail on the ground. A huge shockwave filled the room, but only Chatot fell, though the other two Legends had to make an effort to stay up.

“Silence. We are Gods, and they’re simply… mortals. We are powerful enough to change their lives, so why shouldn’t we? Why not use these  gifts  to help them?”

“B-Because it’s what the Voice wills!” Blacephalon tried to plead, bowing to Necrozma. “We are only to interfere in threats that span the globe. Mortals should have their free will, even if it causes them pain.”

Chatot didn’t know how to respond. Were they helping him or not? The answer wasn’t exactly clear. And maybe it was a bad idea coming there in the first place. Maybe he was on his own.

“Sir. If you’ll do this, then maybe you should refrain from using the crystal.” Buzzwole saluted with another flex. “Return to your normal state. Even if you’ll be weakneed, it’ll be more than enough to deal with bandits.”

“Hm…” Necrozma stopped to reconsider, even looking at the crystal in his chest. “This was a gift to me by the Voice. I should not remove it so easily. However… if this is what will allow me to help this mortal, then so be it.”

Blacephalon still wasn’t sure, holding his head and throwing it up and down like a ball, using his hand. “That’s an option. It’ll draw less attention, but it will happen nonetheless.”

Finally, Necrozma stood up, moving an arm to his chest, and slowly removed the crystal.

“Mortal, you might want to close your eyes.”

After doing like Necrozma suggested, Chatot waited. Even with his eyes closed, he still felt a blinding flash of light surrounding the area. Necrozma’s body shrunk, turning him from a titanic dragon to a much smaller, although still larger than the rest, form.

“This isn’t what I wanted, but it’ll have to do.” Necrozma’s voice was audibly less booming than before, but it still resonated inside Chatot’s very soul.

“Now… where is this village?”

---

It was a simple portal trip, with Blacephalon walking out before the other three. He tossed his head up, twirling around to face the wormhole, before picking up the head.

“Ta-da~!”

Chatot walked out and instantly his stomach grumbled, like a roar. He had to cover his beak not to throw up, but the dizzy spell forced him to fall on the ground and groan.

“Right, some ‘mon aren’t able to travel safely. It’ll pass.” Buzzwole was next, jumping and landing on all of his feet, before flexing two biceps. The last part was admittedly unnecessary, but it always filled him with joy to do it.

“U-Understood.” Chatot gulped, swallowing the vomit down and slowly standing up, with the help of Blacephalon. “And Lord Necrozma?”

His figure levitated off the portal, now looking like someone else entirely. Necrozma no longer had his draconic body, but one more akin to a crystal, with stubby legs and long arms.

“Greetings.” Necrozma let out an audible chuckle, though he had no mouth. “Hm, is this the village?”

Indeed, the place was decrepit. Unlike the tower he lived at, the houses were very brittle. Looking at the materials, he recognized wood, straw roofs and daub for the walls. Nothing that could resist any attacks—and most of it didn’t, with broken buildings and groups of Pokémon standing outside said destroyed houses.

“Y-Yes, Sir. I don’t think the bandits have arrived yet, but… they will, soon. They take what little we have.” Chatot muttered. Heavy footsteps and growls could be heard from the other side of the village, making him flap his wings again. “Please, defend us! Take them away from here!”

“I already said I will, so don’t worry.” Necrozma turned to his two subordinates. “Buzzwole, Blacephalon. I need you to go and check any wounded civilians. Treat them to the best of your abilities.”

Blacephalon bowed, twirling again. “Understood, Sir!”

“I’ll see if there’s anyone trapped under rubble.” Buzzwole flexed, and ran off with his companion.

Chatot watched them run off, gulping. “A-Almighty, what am I to do?”

“You will come with me.” He lowered his arm, offering Chatot to climb on his giant hand. “Making them run away is good. Making sure they won’t come back is better.”

“Oh! That’s… way more than I asked, thank you.” Chatot flew and landed on the hand, watching Necrozma hold him tight, but not dangerously so.

The Legendary flew ahead, following the growls and snarls from up ahead. This was going to be easy.

It didn’t take long until he stopped in front of a farm, and he was already able to see the bandits munching on the crops.

“Hmph, pathetic.” Necrozma said to the group, two Ursaring and one Ursaluna. Those three were responsible for the suffering of the villagers?

“Shoot, Boss! Loot at ‘im!” One Ursaring said, hurrying away from the crops.

“Scram!” Ursaluna said. For all his apparent might, he had quick feet.

“Ah… this will be far easier than I expected. Do hold on tight, mortal.” Necrozma flicked his free arm and aimed at the three.

In the blink of an eye, they were pressed to the ground, like gravity had gone stronger somehow. Ursaluna tried to escape, or break free from the invisible binds, and that one got Necrozma’s attention as he floated towards the bandit.

“Perhaps you can be an example.” He said, chuckling once more. He was unmatched, powerful, undeniable. And so, judging the bandit was the easiest thing in the world to do.

Ursaluna roared, using as much of his strength to stand up and defy the gravity hold. Necrozma just watched that, completely unfazed. He shrugged. Maybe these bandits really did have something in them that was dangerous enough to threaten a village.

Luckily, Necrozma wasn’t a simple villager. His free arm began to glow into all the colors, like a rainbow, and a geyser beam shot from it, knocking Ursaluna to the other side, making him roll on the ground until he fell unconscious. “Let me say this, and I’ll only say this once. This village is protected. If any of you dare to attack them, then I’ll deal with you myself.”

One of the Ursaring trembled, not bothering to try and escape. He used his strength to nod, struggling to say a word. The other one had it in him to speak.

“A-Almighty Necrozma! Please spare us!”

“Hm… what do you think, Chatot? Should they live?”

Chatot was quiet during the entire “fight”, only being able to look in awe at Necrozma’s strength. “S-Sir… I believe they should. Maybe we can send them off as a m-message?”

“That’s a great idea.” Necrozma put down Chatot, and flicked an arm again, the gravity returning to normal. “Now, let this be a warning. Do not bother the Pokémon of this village ever again. Got it?”

Both Ursaring nodded, running to fetch their leader.

“Well, this was… whoa. I’m impressed, I didn’t even know I was this strong!” Necrozma chuckled to himself, ignoring everything else.

Even a bowing Chatot. “A-Almighty… we will worship you for generations to come, Sir!”

“Oh, right.” Necrozma turned to the mortal. “Please, there’s no need to…”

But Chatot was already cheering him on. Now he wished he could smile in this form. Despite what his words said, the idea of being worshiped struck him deep inside. Necrozma had to accept it, plain and simple.

---

That entire adventure didn’t take so many hours of his day, one and a half at most, so Necrozma returned to the tower, back at the lowest floor. Full of pillars, of plants and still looking very bright. There were rooms dedicated to relaxing, as that was the theme of the floor.

Buzzwole and Blacephalon were on his side, but they did enough adventuring for the day. Before he could ask them to leave, he noticed something else that caught his attention.

Another Pokémon like him, another one of the leaders; Giratina in his Origin form. Accompanying him was a much smaller Legend, Darkrai. Once the two large dragons met gazes, they stared into one another… and chuckled.

“Tina, my old friend! It’s been far too long!” Necrozma laughed, raising an arm.

“Oh, it has indeed been, Twinkle!” Giratina offered a tendril in return to shake the other dragon’s hand.

“Pssst. Don’t call me that, not in front of them!” Necrozma pouted, and moved forward to give the wyrm a big, powerful hug.

Buzzwole blinked, looking at Blacephalon, the ghost shrugging. The two dragons separated.

“Old friend, alright. We should probably go—” the ghost was interrupted by Buzzwole pulling him away, the two running off into other areas of the spire.

Darkrai watched the two leave and tilted his head. “Lord Giratina, I believe you have some duties to attend to—”

“Bah! Duties, responsibilities! This is why you’re my assistant, so I won’t have to do boring stuff like that!” Giratina waved him off, focusing his attention solely on Necrozma. “Anyway, Twinkle! Where’d you been?!”

“Ahem, I already said not to call me that, unless it’s in… some other places.” There was a visible bright-yellow blush on the dragon’s face. “And I was dealing with a request from a mortal.”

“A mortal?” Darkrai quirked a brow. “Lord Giratina hasn’t received any requests lately. I’m suspecting the mortals think he’s too scary.”

Giratina pouted, raising his head, and some of his tendrils twitched. “I’m trying my best, Darkrai! I don’t wanna look scary, y’know?!

“Personally, I think you’re adorable.” Necrozma muttered.

“More importantly, Nec…” Giratina cleared his throat, and managed a smile. “I feel like I know the answer, but didja request approval from the Voice?”

To that, Darkrai laughed. “Pardon me, my Liege, but you don’t like some of the rules. I doubt you have the authority to command Lord Necrozma.”

“I wasn’t  going  to.”

Necrozma knew he could answer that question himself, and if they had the answer already, it’d make things much easier.

“I didn’t.” He said. “It’d take too long, and the village would be destroyed by then. Granted, they were some lowly bandits. I scared them off, so things should be fine.”

“That’s my Twinkle—Nec!” Giratina chirped, wrapping a tendril around the light dragon. “But you’re gonna get Yveltal out of a job at this point! I dunno about you, but I wouldn’t wanna get on his bad side, or on Xerneas’ bad side!”

As fun as it was seeing them like that, Darkrai couldn’t let it go on for too long, clearing his throat.

“Lord Necrozma, I believe the Voice might invite you to Their room, at the top of the spire.”

But the prismatic dragon didn’t seem to care that much, if at all, waving the subordinate off. “If They do, I’ll deal with the situation myself.”

“Yeah!” Giratina cheered. “And I have some stuff to do myself… apparently, the Voice is in the process of giving me my own realm to attend to.”

“Really? Good for you, Tina.” Necrozma smiled. “I must attend some duties as well, but… maybe later today, you could join me?”

“Of course!”

Darkrai facepalmed, sighing. “Alright, my Liege. Let’s go.”

Necrozma waved at them one last time and kept walking, heading to his throne.

---

It had been hours. Buzzwole only knew he was being called because the message was sent telepathically. He had to leave his room in the middle of the night, rubbing his eyes.

Joining him was the clown he referred to as his best friend. Blacephalon, like always, played with his head, spinning it around with his hand.

“Do ya never get tired of doing that?”

His response was blowing up the ball, reforming it before shrugging. “Not at all! It makes things all the more fun!”

“Suit yourself…” Buzzwole looked in front of them, where there was a large, open door.

A flash of light burst from within, and stairs materialized, heading up towards the top.

“Guess I should’ve expected the Voice to do it.” Buzzwole groaned.

“In our defense, we did try to warn Lord Necrozma, but you know how he is… once he sets his sights on something, nobody stops him.”

Buzzwole slowly flexed his bicep. “It’s the best and the worst part of him. I doubt we’ll be let off the hook so easily. Are you prepared, at least?”

“To face our maker? I doubt anyone is…” Blacephalon shivered. “Oh well, let’s go.”

The duo went to the stairs and began to climb, slowly going up. As they went on, the air got chillier, and at the same time… more regal. It was a weird sensation, like they couldn’t comprehend exactly what was going on. It was expected, meeting with someone higher than them made this a recurring occurrence, even with the leaders.

But nonetheless, they persevered. Eventually, the two arrived at the top, where the scenery was so different from the tower it might as well be somewhere else.

For starters, the sky had a bright yellow color, with tints of white. Pillars surrounded the area, and at the end of the hall, there was a throne, a throne where the Voice was.

---

The Voice was an odd creature, existing and not existing at the same time. Their body shape was vaguely quadrupedal, possessing four legs, colored dark yellow, but it was also amorphous, and almost transparent. They had a neck, and a snouted face where, instead of eyes, there were two red circles.

“Greetings.” They said. “I’ve seen it; the actions of your leader, the one I named Necrozma. His actions, while possessing good reasoning… are not approved.”

Buzzwole gulped. This wasn’t his first time talking with them, but every time was just as scary as the previous one, if not more. “Y-Yes, I know they weren’t approved. We tried warning him, but he didn’t listen.”

Next, it was Blacephalon’s turn. He didn’t mess around with his head like before, trembling. “He refused to. According to him, we should protect the mortals, we should… defend them. We have gifts, and—”

“I know exactly what he said.” The Voice interrupted, his circle eyes closing. “However, I do not understand. I asked but one simple thing: leave the mortals be. They possess free will, and although we are mighty, they deserve and should keep their free will. We can guide them, we can help them, but never interfere directly.”

Saying they understood Necrozma’s reasoning would be the biggest lie possible, despite knowing him for so long. Therefore, neither of the two dared speak up, and an awkward wall of silence stood between the three.

It was broken by Buzzwole, who cleared his throat. This time, he felt as if flexing would do the situation no good. “I think Lord Necrozma has good intentions, but I also think he doesn’t quite get how things work around here.”

“Uh, yes, yes.” Blacephalon said next, back to playing with his head. “In a way, I get where he’s coming from. We’re so much more powerful than a regular Pokémon, and with this power, I don’t see why we shouldn’t… help them.”

The Voice glared at them, their body wobbling like jelly. “Because… power is not everything. Having it doesn’t mean you should use it. However…”

They paused, trotting in circles. “I believe that you Legends also possess the free will to do as you please. I, too, must not interfere. Therefore, there will be no punishment for any of you.”

None of the assistants could believe what they heard. Other Legends told stories about the Voice smiting those that defied them, but this? This was mercy. Buzzwole gulped. Mercy, yes, but it didn’t mean that would happen again. They’d have to take this chance.

“Ah, I understand, Almighty Voice.” Surprisingly reasonable, too. Buzzwole scratched the back of his head. “What should we tell him, then?”

“Yes.” Blacephalon threw his head one final time. “Whatever it is, we’ll give the message.”

There was another wall of silence as the Voice pondered what to do. “While I cannot see into the future, I believe this could escalate into disastrous tragedy. Therefore… I believe the time has come for me to present you with something wonderful.”

The Voice trotted forward, raising their head. Their body started to glow, wobbling in every direction. Light flashed, converging into a single point, forming, reshaping into two transparent crystals. The jewels slowly floated towards the two Legends, and remained hovering next to them.

“What’s… this supposed to be?” Buzzwole grabbed the one in front of him, watching it carefully. “Kinda looks like the one Lord Necrozma has, just… less fancy.”

Blacephalon took his, humming. “Does it have any special properties…?”

“Guard it with your life,” the Voice said, trotting back to their throne. “I wish it wouldn’t come to this, but they’re able to resonate with your spirits. When—no, if the time comes, you’ll be able to imbue the crystals with your energy, your very souls.”

Buzzwole looked at Blacephalon, as if asking for clarification, but the ghost clown didn’t know it either.

“These are my gifts to you,” they said. “Use it well. Protect the world, and help the mortals thrive.”

“Well, if that’s all, then guess we’ll go back.” Buzzwole said, to which the Voice nodded.

And they made their way down the stairs. By now they could see the sky slowly darkening; nighttime was near.

---

As the day arose, the door to Necrozma’s room opened and out of it, Giratina slithered, using two tendrils to close it behind him. After taking a look around, he sighed in relief. So close.

“Phew…”

This time he wriggled down the stairs to the main lobby. According to the schedule Darkrai gave him, today he was to visit a few villages on other continents, receiving offerings from them. A normal part of the job, yes, but so… boring.

Which is why it was a shock to see Darkrai levitating next to an Ursaluna, the bear growling at the same time as he gasped at the majesty the inside of the tower had.

“Ah! My Liege, you’re here—” Darkrai stopped, squinting his eyes. Did Giratina have… bite marks? He decided to not press further on that subject. “Ahem, I took a short trip to this Pokémon’s village.”

“H-Hello! Or… s-should I say greetings?” Ursaluna shivered, bowing his head to the large dragon.

“A trip? I thought we were supposed to travel together today.” Giratina muttered, then looked at Ursaluna. “Uh, yeah, yeah. Greetings is fine. Please raise your head.”

Ursaluna did as instructed. Darkrai floated next to his boss, pointing at the mortal.

“His village was rather far away, and the statue barely worked. Now I remember how jealous I am of the Light trio. Teleporting sounds rather nice…”

Giratina shrugged two tendrils. “Tell me about it. Twinkle likes to be a show-off.”

Meanwhile, the bear gulped. How should he present his offerings…? With a grunt, he removed a few berries out of his thick fur. Pinap, Oran, Nanab. All in large quantities.

“M-My fur is… a maze, I’ve been told. I hope this is to your liking…?”

Giratina sniffed the berries, grabbing the Pinap with a tendril and swallowing it down, before licking his lips. “This… pleases me. I guess we can do business, then?”

Right. No more beating around the bush for that Ursaluna. He cleared his throat, bowing once more. “I wish to ask for protection, Almighty Giratina. I was attacked by one of your own, and forced to retreat, while the villagers got my loot.”

It was a very familiar story. Giratina raised a brow. “…Twinkle, what did you do?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nevermind.” Giratina wriggled in circles, groaning. “You forgot to mention one thing: you’re a bandit. That “loot” belonged to the villagers you stole it from.”

Darkrai shook his head. “My Liege, it doesn’t matter. We must advice him. This Ursaluna went to the trouble of building a small statue to contact you.”

“Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to base our communication on statues?” Giratina whispered to his subordinate, and then slithered closer to Ursaluna, looking at the bear straight in the eyes.

What should he do? Agreeing to protect him would go against what Necrozma did, but that Ursaluna went to him for help. And interfering was against the rules. His tendrils were tied.

I can’t say yes, but if I leave him alone… both options are really, really bad. What do I do?

His tendrils twitched more as he thought. Giratina nodded his head. “Hm… I can’t say I’ll accept your request, but give me a day. I’ll give you an answer tomorrow.”

Darkrai bowed. “That is wise, my Liege.”

“Oh…” Ursaluna frowned. That wasn’t an answer, nothing. Just asking him to wait some more. Disappointing, to say the least. “I… I see. Then Darkrai will escort me home?”

“Indeed. Come. We’ll take a shorter route.” Darkrai bowed one more time and floated towards the exit.

Giratina was left wondering if he would be able to make the right decision. A big part of him thought no, but only time would tell.

---

Necrozma had been called. Not by the Voice, but by one of his own, another leader. He made his way through the halls, until he came upon a large door.

“The garden, why is it always the garden? I don’t see what’s so beautiful about it.”

Blacephalon was by his side like always, and the thought of going somewhere so pretty made his head explode. Thankfully, it regenerated. “Lady Xerneas has style, charm and grace! I’d be honored to be in her presence.”

Necrozma audibly groaned. “…And now I miss Buzzwole. Where is he?”

“Probably working out, fetching new requests, or sleeping. You know that big lug…” he shrugged. “Now, Lord Necrozma! Shall we get inside?”

There was no response; Necrozma simply opened the door, and Blacephalon followed behind.

They were assaulted by a multitude of bright colors. Pink flowers decorated the surrounding area around the entrance, patches of grass extended forward, and trees with yellow leaves surrounded the lake in the middle of the garden. Xerneas herself was near the lake, drinking the water, before raising her head, petals flying around her.

A few Shaymin sniffed the flowers, and some moved out of the way when they noticed Necrozma flying towards the center. Blacephalon waved to them, picking a flower and looking at it. It was incredibly pretty, and now he wished he could make fireworks shaped like the many flowers.

“Necrozma.” Xerneas turned around, not losing her composure for even a second. There was no need to bow, they were equals. “It’s a pleasure having you here. I see your assistant notified you.”

Blacephalon bowed. “Yes, Lady Xerneas. With Buzzwole on break, the job came to me! Not to mention I always love visiting your garden. It’s very well-kept.”

The only one not happy with the situation was Necrozma himself, who shrugged. “Yes, it’s pretty. But what did you want with me, Xerneas?”

“Feisty as usual, I see.” Xerneas stopped to smell a flower, smiling. “I do wonder why the only one of us you seem to have good relationships with is Giratina, but that’s none of my business.”

Blacephalon raised an arm, only to receive a glare from his boss, shutting him up preemptively.

“Spill it, Xerneas. Everyone seems to be disappointed that I went out of my way to help someone.” Necrozma scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Well, my opinions on the matter are more… nuanced.” Xerneas admitted, looking at the trees. “Do you see them? They’re life, and it flourishes here. Because of it, I’m thankful you saved them. Life is beautiful, and it should thrive.”

She paused, sniffing more flowers. Her smile finally faltered. “I’m wary. You don’t know how the mortals will react to this. Besides, there’s rules for a reason.”

Necrozma snarled before taking a deep breath and calming down. “So what, Xerneas? What was I supposed to do?!

“Advice them, Necrozma.” Xerneas stated, head raised perfectly straight. “We can’t control their actions, but we can give advice. They worship us, yes, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t fight their own battles.”

Blacephalon nodded. He agreed to the notion as well, but it was best not to tell Necrozma about it.

Xerneas sighed, shaking her head. “What I mean is: be careful next time, we don’t know the future. Dialga does, but he’s been sent to a mission with Palkia.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of it!” Blacephalon spoke up. “To create a bridge with the human world, yes?”

“Correct.” Xerneas kept looking at Necrozma. “Do you understand me?”

“I… do.” Necrozma said. He didn’t mean it; but nobody really understood him. Was helping mortals really the wrong thing to do?

He didn’t know. What he did know was that there was no point in arguing with her; Necrozma should just accept it, at least on the outside.

On the inside, he was fuming, however, Necrozma was able to hold back expressing any of that.

“I’ll try my best, Xerneas. But I don’t think this is right.” Necrozma added, clenching a fist. “…We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

“Good.” Xerneas turned to face the lake again. “Now, leave me be. I need a moment to myself, to relax. As for you, Blacephalon… feel free to visit whenever you’d like.”

The ghost saluted, his head exploding and reforming. “Understood, Lady Xerneas.”

Necrozma walked towards the door, sighing. Why… can’t my own friends understand this?

---

After waving goodbye to Blacephalon, Necrozma decided to do some thinking on his own, climbing more stairs until he arrived at the balcony. It was very simple, with a view of the sky and the land around them. Necrozma even saw a few villages. More importantly, it was the perfect place to be on his own and think.

“Am I really in the wrong here…?” Necrozma pondered. Everyone told him the exact same thing; he shouldn’t have interfered. He had to trust the mortals. A simple task for a God like him. “But if I wasn’t alone…”

“Twinkle! I’ve been looking for ya!”

Giratina wriggled his way to the balcony, stopping on his side. “Ah! Sorry, didn’t catch everything you said. But I did hear about being alone. You’re not, considering I just got here.”

“I didn’t mean company, but—” Necrozma sighed. His sight was fixated on the stars. Despite being one of the most powerful Pokémon in the world, he was… trapped. Trapped in rules he could not escape from. “…I appreciate that you’re here. Please stay.”

“Not going anywhere, don’t worry.” Giratina moved a tendril as if to wave, chuckling. “I did come here to talk about something, but before I do that… how’s your day been?”

“Well, trained a little, read some books a few mortals were writing about us, then I got called…” Necrozma shivered. “Xerneas called me.”

Giratina tilted his head, and shivered too. “Ah… she’s a nasty piece of work when she wants to. What happened?”

Instead of a direct answer, Necrozma wanted to give him another question in response. Momentarily looking at him, and into the wyrm’s eyes. Those soft, gentle eyes.

“Tina, do you think I did something wrong?”

And that made Giratina pause… for an unbearable amount of time. Not even the flap of a wing passed, and the slowest Pokémon in the world would still outspeed how much time passed for them. It was slower than a crawl to Necrozma. He didn’t know in reality how much time passed, but he felt an eternity before Giratina’s mouth opened again.

“Maybe there’s no right answer here.” He finally said. “…There’s no way of knowing, because we’re all different. We all follow different beliefs.”

The answer wasn’t anywhere close to what Necrozma wanted to hear. Yet, it wasn’t a bad answer. “If that’s the case, then… do you think I should keep going?”

This time, it was swift; Giratina shook his head. “I think this could be a learning experience for you. To learn what to do and not to do. Find a loophole, y’know?”

“What?” Necrozma raised a claw, opening his mouth to gasp. “Tina, you… I don’t know how, but you actually have a semblance of a point.”

“I know, right? I’m surprised—hey! What do you mean “actually”?! I have good points sometimes!” To retribute, Giratina twirled his tendrils around Necrozma’s wings, chuckling. “I’m not the brightest Legend, but I still try my best!”

“Hah! I know…” Necrozma pulled him into another hug, sighing in relief.

They remained that way for ages, simply enjoying each other’s company for as long as necessary. Necrozma chuckled slightly, and only to himself.

“And, well… I got an unusual request.” Giratina said, pulling away. “The bandit you apprehended talked to me, asking for protection.”

Necrozma’s face soured. “Somehow, I suspected something like that would happen. What did you do?”

“Told ‘im I’m gonna come up with some advice tomorrow, which I will.” Giratina muttered, his face also souring. “I think I know what I’m gonna say. I’m gonna try to convince him to make a peace treaty with the village you saved.”

“You’ll what?” Necrozma’s eyes widened. This was the second time Giratina had a good idea, and in the span of mere minutes! “That’s… you’ll… whoa, Tina. It’s a great idea! That way, I won’t have to interfere anymore, they’ll be left to their own devices, and everything will remain peaceful!”

Giratina blushed, rubbing tendrils on his cheeks. “Hehe! I know, I’m a genius sometimes.”

“We’ll just have to see.” Necrozma added, nodding. “But thank you… for always being there for me, Tina. For what is worth, I’ll miss you.”

“Don’t act like I’m gonna be gone forever!” He teased, sticking out his tongue.

Necrozma did the same. For now, things were going just fine…

But for how long?

---

Chatot was rewarded as a hero. His efforts drove away the bandits, even if it was with someone else’s help, not that the other villagers cared about it. All they wanted was Ursaluna and his goons gone.

And with the help of Giratina’s suggestion, the bandits retreated, promising to make amends and never return. Life inside the village could thrive; Chatot was even promoted to chief, giving him command of them all.

But like Necrozma said, making sure they never returned was the best option. Not to mention, with him at their side, Chatot realized that life could be better if they had more resources, resources that Ursaluna had.

Therefore, Chatot’s mission was to travel there, to command and expand his own village. After all, who would stop him? Nobody. Nobody would dare to, he had power.

After flying to the entrance, he saw a village much like his own, in good condition. His settlement was rebuilt using the entire workforce.

Amidst the inhabitants was the one he wanted to see the most: Ursaluna. He looked up at the bird, groaning at the mere sight; it couldn’t be good.

“Ah, hello, my dear friend!” Chatot landed, flapping his wings and chuckling. “My my, how the tables have turned!”

“Beat it, feathersack. What’d you want from me?” Ursaluna roared. It was just that; a roar. He made no aggressive action, nothing.

“It’s been what? Two months?” Chatot rubbed his chin, and a grin showed up on his face. “I honestly don’t know!”

“One and a half, as you like to remind me,” he said, sitting on all fours. “Now tell me what you want and leave us alone!”

“See, that’s the problem…” Chatot’s grin spread wider and wider. “My village is in good condition, everyone’s happy. But… what if we could grow bigger? What if, say, we were to attach a different town to our own?”

Ursaluna knew what that meant, and roared. “No thanks! We’re very happy with our agreement, there’s no need to change things! Leave them as they are!”

Chatot flapped his wings, flying in circles around Ursaluna. “That’s where you’re wrong! I have a God on my beck and call! And if I were to call him, and he destroyed your little place… what would that be like?”

“Wha—you can’t! He wouldn’t!”

“That’s the thing, my friend~!” Chatot landed on top of Ursaluna. “Are you willing to risk it? Or will you let us take your village as our own?”

Ursaluna bit a lip, eyes widening. What should he do? What could he do? There was no way of knowing if that was true, but taking the chance? Never. Everyone here could die if he didn’t accept the offer, whether he wanted to or not.

“I… accept these terms.”

---

Chatot’s plan was successful. His village grew more and more over the years. Once a broken place full of despair now was a small city that thrived, that exported its crops, that succeeded.

All because of Necrozma. Chatot didn’t need his help anymore, but thanks to the Legend, he was able to lead his home into a brighter age, into a better future for them.

“Good morning, everyone!” Chatot flew around the city, smiling and waving a single wing to everyone he saw. The houses were far bigger now, and more resilient, with rocks as their foundation.

It was a happy place for all, except for Ursaluna. As part of his deal, him and his gang were to take care of most, if not all of the hard labor. Every physical job involved some of them.

Ursaluna himself was lifting a large wall to be used as part of a house construction. Even with his strength making the job easy as breathing, he knew that it could be better. If Giratina had accepted it… if Necrozma didn’t show up… things would be normal.

“Urgh…” he put the wall down to catch his breath.

A poor decision; Chatot was watching, flying down. With a flap of his wings, winded blades rained down, cutting through Ursaluna’s fur.

“Wait, wait! Stop! I’m just takin’ a break, that’s all!” Ursaluna groaned, covering his face with two arms. “Stop it, please!”

“Hmph. Very well, fur ball.” Chatot landed, flapping his wings again. “I have to say… you lot are doing a wonderful job with this.”

“Yeah,” Ursaluna grunted. Not like you care. All you do is make us work!

Chatot managed to hear a groan, quirking a brow. “Oh, is that someone complaining? About my generosity? I could’ve asked Lord Necrozma to smite you for this!”

As if I haven’t heard that before. Ursaluna sighed. “Fine, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go finish my job.”

“Now hold it!” Chatot flew, landing in front of Ursaluna, wiggling his left wing, as if denying to excuse him. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, what is it?”

Another smirk appeared on Chatot’s beak. “See… I have grand plans! I think we can aim much, much higher! There’s more villages in this continent. With your might, and my planning…”

“…You want to invade them?” Ursaluna blinked. Now, it was something he did, and would continue to do if things were normal. But knowing that Chatot would subject others to the same torment as him… it changed how he saw it. “Why? Things are good. For you, at least.”

“Better! Much better! We can do this!” Chatot squawked. “We can get them and expand our city! We’ll be unstoppable!”

Could Chatot do it? Did Ursaluna even have a choice? There were so many things he could do, now that he had this information. If he could warn other villages…

“And you want me to be your soldier? A strong, burly Ursaluna.”

“Indeed! You and your gang are perfect for the job! Not to mention, I have Lord Necrozma on my side!”

The fact nobody caught on to his lie after years surprised Chatot, but he wasn’t about to correct anyone.

And Ursaluna could not refuse… and Chatot would win.

---

“…What have I done?”

Necrozma was high in the air, higher than any of the fliers could hope to achieve. He looked down at where once stood the village, and now there was only a battlefield. On one side, Chatot tried to gather his forces. On the other side, Ursaluna managed to join with the ones they tried to attack, and was seeking revenge.

“This isn’t—I didn’t want this.” Necrozma trembled. “Why…? Why couldn’t they keep up the peace? What happened?!”

It wasn’t long until Giratina came flying in, rushing to Necrozma’s side. His tendrils twitched, and he panted, looking at the light dragon.

“From what Darkrai gathered, Chatot tried to expand his village.” Giratina frowned. “Then, Ursaluna noticed he could use this; he could forge an alliance with whoever Chatot was attacking. And the result is… well, that.”

“…It’s my fault, then.” Necrozma looked at himself. He could see the blood, though he didn’t do it directly, it was still visible. It was his fault, and only his fault. Because he believed he could change things. “What… what did I do?! They didn’t—don’t deserve this! I’m a God, I’m strong, I can—”

“Twinkle… I know what’s going through your mind—”

“Tina, look at them!” Necrozma didn’t dare look at him, just trembling. “Time passes differently to us, and I was able to see them slowly do this. I saw this conflict—this war! It’s on me, Tina! Just me!”

“Don’t say this—”

Necrozma flapped his wings, preparing to fly downwards… but Giratina’s tendrils wrapped on him, stopping him from moving.

“Listen to me, Twinkle. This isn’t your fault. You did all you could!” Giratina pleaded, even as the other dragon struggled to escape his binding. “But we can’t change this! We can only guide them, but in the end… their decisions belong to them, Twinkle!”

“B-But!” Necrozma continued to tremble, stopping his attempts at breaking free. “I can’t—why did it come to this?! Was my decision… wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Giratina released the tendrils, knowing he wouldn’t do anything more. “But… I think we need to get out. There’s nothing more we can do.”

“Maybe not now. Not now, but… I could’ve done so much more, Tina. So much more!” Necrozma groaned, suppressing all his tears, and looking up. A gigantic laser beam shot from his body before he panted. “It’s not fair! Why can’t we just win?! Do we need to lose?! Can’t we do anything?!”

“No! Not… not now.” Giratina offered two tendrils. “Let’s go home, Twinkle. We need to let this happen. They’ll learn—they have to learn. This is on them, okay? Not me, not you. That’s all we can do. It’s worth a shot, don’t you think?”

It was. Necrozma muttered, wondered what other options he had…

Nothing. He had nothing. Interfering was not an option, and maybe it would only make things worse. Necrozma could only follow what Giratina said, and hope that the mortals learned their lesson.

“The tower… let’s go back. Before I do something stupid.”

And one look at them later… Necrozma flew off with Giratina.

---

Nothing was left. Necrozma watched the old field completely empty, full of dead grass and dirt. Time was a weird thing to him and the Legends; their lifespan was so bigger than the common Pokémon that this war between mortals happened at a crawling pace.

But he remembered. He saw them, their battle, and what remained. It reminded him of how foolish he was. How could he prevent it from happening again?

“Uh… Lord Necrozma?” Blacephalon tossed his head, it flew next to Necrozma’s face, getting his attention. “Ah, good! I know this place reminds you of a different time—”

“It was like yesterday to me.” Necrozma said. “I know you and Blacephalon are… built differently, but still. The passage of time was nothing but sand in an hourglass.”

Buzzwole came running in all his legs, then jumped, crashing next to them, saluting with a flex. “Sir, yes, Sir! The meeting is to happen right now!”

“…You embarrass me sometimes.” Necrozma blinked. Remaining there only gave him more memories of that village he failed. “What iss the request this time? And who wants to see me?”

Buzzwole raised his two arms, clapping. “Meet the new chief, a long descendant of an esteemed Chatot! Meet… Dodrio!”

To help with the aesthetic, Blacephalon launched his head into the air, exploding into a show of fireworks. Meanwhile, a Dodrio ran through the dirty battleground. He didn’t carry much with him, except for one thing… one tiny detail Necrozma noticed.

Dodrio wore a black scarf, and in it there was the same sigil he possessed. A symbol… representing himself.

“Greetings, Lord—no, Almighty Necrozma!” Dodrio bowed, lowering his three heads. The middle one was raised first. “I’ve heard so much about you! Pardon me, as I don’t have any offerings, though I believe you don’t accept any.”

“I don’t.” Necrozma waved him off. “Now, if you’ll please go on with your request, this place gives me bad memories.”

“Yeah, I’d suggest not mentioning what happened to the Boss.” Buzzwole agreed. The field was better, a lot greener, at least.

“About my ancestor…?” Dodrio’s three heads tilted, and two of them bumped into one another. “Ahem, that was a long time ago, I didn’t believe it’d matter that much.”

“To you, it’s been a long time. Don’t patronize me, mortal.” Necrozma closed his eyes. His emotions slipped through. “Whatever. What do you want?”

“Ah, pardon me. I’ve simply heard tales of your prowess, and you’re the talk of the village.” Dodrio bowed. “I’d like to ask you to be our protector. Times are hard, and there’s a constant threat of us being ransacked. We’ve heard about a clan—a guild of thieves, murderers. If you could… please, help us.”

Necrozma heard it before. He accepted a request like that before. He didn’t trust the mortals with their lives, and from the looks of it, they didn’t trust themselves.

But could he bear to repeat the same thing again? Could he see despair and ruin once more?

“I am so… so sorry, mortal.” Necrozma sighed. “I can’t. I’m not allowed to. At most, I can help you with my words. But my actions… that I won’t allow.”

“Actions speak louder than words. But I suppose… if my ancestor believed you, I shall believe you as well.” Dodrio’s heads nodded at the same time.

Buzzwole flexed to cheer his boss on. “Oh yeah! That’s great, Boss! You learned! They can too!”

“Here’s hoping.”

“Hm… let’s trust them on this one.” Blacephalon continued to twirl, playing with his head.

“Please, enlighten me, Almighty One.” Dodrio said. “How can we face the thieves?”

“Hm…” Necrozma scratched his chin. Of all the requests, this one was by far the easiest. “I work together with my fellow Legends. Perhaps… mortals could create a guild of their own, an organization to help them deal with things.”

“A guild…” Dodrio muttered to himself. “That isn’t a bad idea. No, it’s a great idea!”

And once more, things were looking to be peaceful in the future. Necrozma sighed in relief. Perhaps this time, he did the right thing. Could peace continue to thrive over the centuries? Could he help?

I did hear Xerneas bring a transformed human. It means that things aren’t in a status quo anymore. If that’s the case, perhaps I can hope for mortals to lead their kind to a bright future.

Back at the tower, Buzzwole and Blacephalon could rest.

The bug Pokémon used his stinger to suck on a berry, absorbing in all of its flavors. A little bitter, a little sour, just the way he liked it. Meanwhile, Blacephalon tossed his head towards the wall, catching it. At least the room was big.

Their shared room was large, though not as much as Necrozma’s. There were two beds for them to sleep at, a big window and two tables with various books. Finally, dumbbells for Buzzwole to work his muscles.

“Hm…” Blacephalon muttered. Other than that simple word, he remained quiet, thinking, wondering.

Buzzwole thought that was something weird, and so, went to his side, catching the sphere. “Uh, Blace? What’s wrong? Don’t tell me it’s nothing. Know you long enough to realize when something’s wrong.”

“Curse you…” Blacephalon grabbed his head back, putting it into place, and it started to float. “I’m concerned. What if something were to happen to those mortals? What would Lord Necrozma do?”

As it turned out, Buzzwole didn’t have an answer ready. He crossed his arms. “…We deal with it if it happens?”

“Not a good answer.” Blacephalon twirled to face his friend. “Not to mention… the crystals given to us a while ago. What is their purpose?”

Buzzwole kept his arms crossed, nodding. “You lost me there, buddy. I thought they were supposed to be our gifts, like Lady Xerneas and the emeras.”

“Our gifts. If so, then did Darkrai get anything? Did Giratina?” Blacephalon’s head exploded again, and it reformed. He was more stressed than expected. “Argh! This doesn’t sit well with me at all.”

“Me neither. I hope there’s nothing the Voice predicted. But it’s not like we can doubt it, y’know?” Buzzwole shrugged.

Although not a satisfying answer, it was all they could get for the moment. Blacephalon walked in circles, refusing to accept it. There had to be something they were missing. Or maybe, he was overreacting.

“It can be just me being paranoid. I’ll be the first to admit that’s a major flaw. It happens quite often—” Another pop from his balloon. “…And this happens too.”

“Listen, Blace. I think you should ask for a day or two to rest. Serving Lord Necrozma can be… tiring. I should know.” Buzzwole tapped the regenerated sphere with a hand.

“Perhaps I should. It does feel a tad weird.” Blacephalon turned to look at the windows. “We must help them, even if it’s only with our words. I just hope… we’re fit for the job.”

“No questioning your self-worth this time around! We’ll succeed! Lord Necrozma will feel better, we just gotta help him with that, too!”

“…Or ask Giratina.” Blacephalon muttered.

“Y’know, that works too. We gotta go rest, though.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” he walked to his bed, sitting on it. “Thank you, Buzzwole. For helping me ease my worries.”

“Every time, old friend.”

And as the night fell, the two lay in their beds, getting ready to sleep through it.

---

It was a beautiful, starry night. Shooting stars were visible from the sky, and life in Dodrio’s village was peaceful. Even with the thieves, they could sleep easily.

Until the current day. In the sky, the silhouette of an Aerodactyl could be seen, flapping his wings as he flew over the city.

I’ve heard this town was protected… but I don’t see any protector! Hah! This’ll be a piece of cake!

First, there was another flap, and multiple afterimages of Aerodactyl appeared, surrounding him. This town was still sturdy, and so, he needed to give his best shot if he was to do the job assigned to him.

Energy gathered in his beak, draconic energy. It was foul and vile, repulsive to the nostrils. Still, Aerodactyl had something to do.

He propelled himself forward, along with the afterimages, and they all started spinning, launching a powerful breath attack towards every house they could see.

The results were instant. Buildings turning into rubble, trees starting to burn, villagers screaming as they left their houses. All together like an orchestra to him.

Dodrio himself walked out of the largest house, rushing as fast as possible, and already locking eyes with the enemy in the sky; a thief, like everyone that threatened their lives.

“Stop! We shouldn’t fight, and you shouldn’t be here! This town is protec—”

Aerodactyl swooped in, colliding his head straight into Dodrio’s stomach, sending him hurling back, before the rock-type flew up, flapping his wings and cracking a grin.

“I can’t see anyone other than you lot! There’s no protection!”

Dodrio tilted a head, standing up and coughing from all three of his beaks. “N-Need to… save as many of them as I can…”

There was no time to worry about reasoning with Aerodactyl, much less fighting with him. He had to make sure the villagers were alright. And so, Dodrio ran once more, checking house after house.

It did mean Aerodactyl was free to do as he pleased, swooping down again and launching more draconic fire on the houses, crisping even more of the residences.

Dodrio turned back, watching Aerodactyl launch yet another attack at one of the houses. “S-Stop! If… Lord Necrozma! If you can hear me, save us!”

“Hah! I actually thought he’d show up! Can you imagine me, defeating a Legend? But pah, this is barely worth it!”

Dodrio gulped, running once more. He had to do something. The wind around each of his beaks started to gather, spinning like a drill, and the bird jumped, preparing to peck Aerodactyl. It wouldn’t do much, but—

“Idiot!” Aerodactyl swished his tail, sending Dodrio back to the ground, while he was cackling. “Whoa! You’re even more of an idiot than I thought! The so-called “Legend” isn’t here to save you!”

Dodrio prepared for another attack, but Aerodactyl simply landed, still with that sick grin.

“But… as much fun as it is to destroy shit, finishing you all isn’t my job. This is a warning shot!” Aerodactyl said, shrugging. “Guess you can consider yourself warned.”

Dodrio’s eyes widened. “Warning shot—are you insane?! We haven’t done anything to upset you!”

“And now you never will!”

Aerodactyl prepared to take off, with Dodrio trying another peck, but his opponent was already in the air, flying off into the distance…

---

A new day rose. Necrozma flew out of the tower, flapping his wings. This time, he was alone; Buzzwole and Blacephalon remained at the spire, taking care of other things. Besides, he could handle this visit on his own.

It’s just been a day, I doubt anything major happened, but still… I should at least check it out!

Another flap, and he roared, opening a wormhole connecting to the field next to the village; he remembered it well.

“What—”

Necrozma landed on the ground, gasping. It was destroyed! Everything was full of rubble and dust.

“B-But! I… I tried to—the thieves, they did this! I… it happened again. Why?! Why does this keep happening?!”

His voice reverberated, booming and imposing. The villagers took notice, gathering around him. Being so much smaller, he didn’t notice everyone. Only Dodrio, the same Dodrio, passed through the audience until he got closer to the dragon.

“You… did this.” Dodrio said. Necrozma noticed the scarf from the day before was gone. “It’s all your fault, Necrozma! If you acted instead of whatever you did, things would’ve been fine!”

“What? No, it isn’t! Please, you must understand—” Necrozma was interrupted by someone throwing a pebble at him. It barely even tickled, but he saw it happen. “…Please! I’ve tried so many times to help you, all of you, but the others—they don’t let me. They—”

“Get outta here!” an Aipom hissed, throwing another pebble. Soon, all the villagers did the same.

It did nothing to hurt or faze him. At most, Necrozma got annoyed. They kept doing it, throwing pebble after pebble and interrupting every word he said.

“Stop—I’m serious—listen to me!”

Necrozma then roared, shaking the very earth next to him, and finally managing to make them stop. Only after being done did he notice his action, shaking his head.

“Oh, I apologize! But please… tell me how I can help you. I must—I can’t stand all this pain. I’ve done all I could! I acted, I didn’t act, and still… it still happened.”

There was no way he could understand. Every bit of him screamed there was something wrong, that someone was responsible. But who? Him?

…What if it was his fault? If it was… what could he do?

“Tell me, mortals. Please… tell me how I can help.”

An overwhelming wall of silence materialized. Necrozma waited for a reply, any reply, anything to take the guilt off of him.

But the answer never came. None of them—none of the mortals could grace him with answers. They would never help him. Dodrio himself turned back with a triple sigh.

“…Get out, Necrozma. We don’t want you here ever again.”

Necrozma frowned, opening a portal right above him, flying into it.

He failed, one more time.

---

Failure, always a failure. Necrozma left the portal and entered his throne room, punching the ground. It shook, and he panted, shaking his head time after time.

“This isn’t  fair ! What am I doing wrong?! Why can’t I defend them?! I’m doing all I can, I’m doing my damn  best  and it’s all for nothing!”

Necrozma clawed at the ground, his anguish almost palpable. Pictures flashed; of war and sorrow, of pain, of death. All ingrained in him, all because of him. The mortals kept fighting each other for no reason.

And nobody listened to him! Nobody! Not even his fellow Legends! Necrozma… was alone. All alone in the world, and only he saw what was wrong.

Amidst his torment, Necrozma began to cry. the tears even entered his mouth, tasting salty, like all the defeats he suffered, like sadness itself was something one could taste.

“Why? Why… why must things be this way? Can’t we win? Can’t they all win? Can’t we achieve… peace?” Necrozma raised his head. “All this pain, all this fighting… it’s for nothing. Why can’t the mortals see it? Why am I the only one seeing this? Am I… wrong?”

And nobody could answer him. Nobody was there; the Voice, the being that supposedly worked with their creator didn’t answer.

“Someone, please… anyone. Help me.”

Slither. Necrozma heard slithering. A familiar one at that. More tears rolled down, and what little he did to hold them back failed him as they came crashing down like a waterfall.

“Tina! It’s you… come in, please.”

Not long after, the large door opened, Giratina flying until he was on Necrozma’s side, landing as close to a sitting position as he could.

“Twinkle… hey,” Giratina rubbed some of the tears off with tendrils. “I feel like I don’t need to ask if you’re alright.”

“Uh… yeah, don’t. I’m a mess.” Necrozma panted. “Tina. Maybe I really am in the wrong. I don’t understand… why does this continue to happen?”

Giratina looked away, sighing. Truth be told, he didn’t either, and had a hunch none of them did.

“I don’t think you’re wrong. But… I think keeping this up isn’t doing you any favors.”

And Necrozma snarled, tail slapping. When he calmed down enough to talk, he continued. “So… what? Do I give up? Do I just… detach myself from them? I can’t. It’ll continue if I don’t do anything.”

“It’s continuing even if you do something! This isn’t about them, it’s about you!” Giratina snapped, his tendrils swirling faster.

“…Someone’s to blame. Even when I didn’t do anything to help, they still managed to—”

Necrozma… stopped. Because even before finishing his sentence, the reason appeared to him. The ones to blame revealed themselves. And it was obvious, so obvious Necrozma grit his teeth and frowned, not realizing until then.

“…It’s not my fault, Tina.” Necrozma said, like he stumbled upon an epiphany. “It’s them. They’re doing it to themselves.”

Giratina didn’t quite get it. “Who?”

Necrozma facepalmed, groaning. It was so simple! “The mortals. The mortals are to blame. They’re the ones doing this. They preach and ask us for help, but in the end… they’re destroying each other, no matter what we do.”

---

Meanwhile, Xerneas was called up to the top. The Voice didn’t specify why she was being called, but she knew not to question them. They were the closest thing to Arceus. Surely, they knew what they were doing.

The spire was as beautiful as always, but unlike other times she visited it, there was no air of relaxation. Instead, it was replaced by worry, confusion and fear.

…Why?

Xerneas bit a lip, strolling near the stairs to the throne. As before, the creature she knew as the Voice was standing, emotionless, expressionless, simply looking at her. The air remained oppressive, however, and Xerneas continued to wonder what was going on.

“Xerneas.” They said, maintaining eye contact. “I sense… a war.”

She had to do a double take. “A war?”

The Voice strolled in circles, their body wobbling. What was the best way of telling her the news? Perhaps there was none, and they should just tell her as bluntly as possible.

“I’ve been listening… hearing one of our own. He is suffering, he’s straying from the path of the Legends.”

One of their own? Xerneas tried thinking of any suspects, but decided against it. “May I know who it is?”

They wondered if it was a good idea telling her. Necrozma was fairly close with her, though not as much as he was towards Giratina. It could be a bad idea. But if they didn’t say, things could escalate further.

“It is… Necrozma.” They stated, remaining calm. Xerneas still sensed the oppressive aura, so this had to be serious.

Her own emotions on the matter had to wait; this required her full attention. “He’s… how do you know? Can’t you do something about it?”

“I may be able to give gifts, but as far as fighting goes… I am weak.” Their body flickered, turning transparent for a moment. “And only Legends can kill other Legends. Though I hope it will not come to this.”

“I see.” Xerneas looked down, suppressing more of her feelings. “And how did you figure it out?”

The Voice raised their head, and the air around the creature turned into mirrors, showing reflections of a few rooms. In one of them, it was possible to see in real time the conversation between Necrozma and Giratina.

“My presents… allow me to see into everyone,” they added, the mirrors dissipating, except the one in Necrozma’s room. “It is not something I do often, but I had a… let’s call it a hunch that Necrozma was plotting something.”

Xerneas frowned. “And what is he planning?”

“That is what we must find out. Come, listen to it, then we can come up with a plan of action.”

Xerneas had no choice but to comply, looking into the reflection.

---

Necrozma’s tears ran dry, and he looked at himself, his body glistering in the light. The answer he searched for… right in front of him. If it wasn’t so ironic, it would be funny. But one question remained… what would he do with said answer?

“Twinkle, I—” Giratina went closer to him. “I don’t understand where you’re coming from. Could you explain it to me?”

“Don’t you see?!” Necrozma opened his mouth, slowly turning his frown into a jagged smile. “We are not allowed to interfere, Tina!”

Giratina still didn’t get where he was coming from, but his curiosity prevented him from opting out. “Because… because they’re supposed to have free will.”

“But what’s the point?! They chose to destroy themselves!” Necrozma proclaimed, looking at himself, flashes of rampage and destruction playing in his mind. “We let them have free will… but they don’t use it well. Tell me, do you really think they’ll learn from their mistakes, Tina?”

“I—”

Necrozma didn’t let him finish. He could do this; he could have someone by his side. “Think, Tina. How many times? How many requests? How many wars have you seen?”

Everything stopped. Giratina didn’t reply, using all his brain to remember. To see those that cursed him, called him the devil, a monster, a demon. Only for them to ask for his help regardless. Did they deserve it? Did the mortals really deserve his help? Necrozma’s help?

“…Too many.” Giratina replied. “But I dunno. I… I don’t know what we can do.”

Necrozma flapped two of his wings, chuckling. Oh, how wonderful it was to have clarity for once in his life. “We can do anything, Tina! We’re Gods! We can save them.”

“M-Maybe?” Giratina whined, slinking back. This sounded strange, and dangerous. Just what was Necrozma planning on doing? Before making any decisions, he needed to know. “Will the mortals enjoy this? Will… they be happy?”

Necrozma paused for a moment, thinking. He never wanted anything bad to happen to them. The only problem was their free will. “I’m sure they’ll be happy. We only want what’s best for them.”

If that was the case, then he could trust Necrozma. They were close enough for that.

“If that’s the case… then do you think we can try convincing the others? I dunno exactly what you’re planning, but if it’s something big, we gotta let ’em know.”

“Good point, Tina. Good point…” Necrozma closed his eyes. Would they join him? The ones that ridiculed his ideas time and time again, even his assistants. “That’s… something we need to decide. But I doubt everyone will join us.”

“Which ones do you think won’t? Maybe you oughta use your charm!”

Necrozma stopped once more. Out of everyone, he suspected… the Voice. As their so-called leader, and the one that created the rules, they would reject any notion Necrozma brought to them.

He’d have to do something about it.

---

The mirror faded, with Xerneas still looking at where it once stood. Believing in what she saw was… hard. Too hard. How could Necrozma think that?

“There’s rules for a reason, I—” Xerneas stopped, catching her breath. She decided to process this slowly, and keep her emotions at bay. After all, blowing up would only make things worse. “Do we know… what he wants to do?”

“My apologies, but I’m not sure.” They said. Unlike Xerneas, who was barely able to keep it together, shaky and raspy, the Voice was calm. Eerily calm. “There’s a possibility he merely wishes for us to change our way of life.”

“If that’s the case, then I’ll hope for that…” she groaned. “But it pains me. I don’t want to say he has a point, especially in terms of free will, but—”

“He doesn’t. It’s sad, but… the mortals must live their lives.” They climbed down the stairs, raising their head. “We also possess free will, Xerneas. Necrozma is taking a stand by himself, and though the possibility of it being a civil discussion exists…”

“…You worry it won’t be that.” She completed. “You worry he will do something rash and impulsive.”

“Mhm. We can hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.” They added. “Granted, this is based on assumptions. We cannot be “rash”, as you put it.”

Xerneas wondered what they all could do. Perhaps she could convince Necrozma to stand down. But knowing that hot-headed dragon… it was hard.

“Then, how about Giratina? They’re close. If anyone can convince him to stop and accept reality, it’s him.”

“Indeed. However, as you saw, Necrozma has already started indoctrinating his…” they stopped to look for a word. “Mate.”

“I understood.” Xerneas tapped a hoof on the ground. “What if we request help from a small team? A few Legends, to decide what we are to do with him, and to talk with Necrozma.”

“A wonderful idea!” Their body wiggled again. Once more, Xerneas felt that oppressive aura. “Ah… but there is one thing I must make clear right from the start.”

“What is it, then?”

“If Necrozma is planning something nasty, then…” they paused, humming. “And if he manages to recruit anyone, all of them must be punished as well. I’m already considering turning Giratina’s realm into a prison, if he’s an accomplice.”

It wasn’t a good thing to hear, and Xerneas almost wanted to raise her concerns. Surely, Necrozma could be persuaded. Things didn’t need to get heated.

“Very well, then. If you allow me, I can start talking with my fellow Legends. I’m already considering a few for this team.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do,” the Voice said. They weren’t strong enough to fight like the others, but thankfully, Xerneas was. “Therefore… I leave you in charge of this. Let’s hope Necrozma will listen to reason.”

“Yes, yes…” Xerneas grimaced. “It’s all I’m hoping for.”

---

Giratina peeked through the door, making sure nobody was near, and closed it again, sighing. The lengths he went to help Necrozma… he didn’t need a “thank you”, but it’d be nice every once in a while.

“I don’t think anyone’s listening.”

“Good.” Necrozma looked out the window, extending an arm as if to reach the sun and the stars. Then, he closed his hand. sighing. “I don’t know why I never noticed it before, Tina. There’s… so much wrong with the world.”

“What’s your goal, exactly? If we’re gonna do something about it… what is that “something”?”

The light dragon turned to Giratina, a slight smile formed on his face. There were so many things, so many ideas coursing through his mind that focusing on just one of them was difficult. Despite that, Necrozma picked one.

“We need to measure how much of the others will follow us.” He said. “And I need to find a way to deal with the mortals. A way to make sure no tragedy will ever happen again.”

There was something about that plan that didn’t sit well with Giratina, and he felt it necessary to express it. “Uh… the mortals will try to fight us, won’t they? Even if we say it’s for their sake, I doubt they’ll see you as nothing more than a monster.”

To that, Necrozma shrugged. “If… a monster is what the world needs, then a monster it will have. Perhaps I can make myself look the part.”

“…What’d you mean?”

“A common enemy, someone that will unite everyone, and that way, ensure peace will thrive.” Necrozma stated. “Yes… this will do nicely.”

Giratina sighed. Was that the right thing to do? He didn’t know. What he did know was that he trusted Necrozma with his life. Following him through everything was as easy as breathing.

He noticed something strange. When looking at Necrozma’s the light dragon’s eyes had… changed. No longer the soft, caring eyes they were before. Instead, Giratina thought they looked bitter and tired.

Maybe it was better to ignore it. “Common enemy… I’d never want to be your enemy.”

“You could never be, Tina.” Necrozma added, flying closer and holding the wyrm’s face with two hands. “Together, you and I… we will be unstoppable! But we need numbers; allies in this battle.”

“I might try convincing Darkrai, if he doesn’t strangle me for taking the day off…” he chuckled, and gulped. “Seriously, he can be scary if he wants to.”

Necrozma couldn’t help but chuckle. “Bah! If he does anything, I’ll give him a firm slap! And then he won’t bother you again!”

The two chuckled to one another, staying as close as possible. Necrozma smiled, but it too was carrying sadness.

“I… do wish it didn’t come to this. In a different, ideal world, things would be perfect.”

Giratina smirked. “Please, Twinkle. You’re already perfect just the way you are! We’ll… save everyone.”

Those were comforting words, words that resonated with Necrozma’s soul. He leaned in closer, touching two of Giratina’s tendrils.

“You’re wonderful.”

Giratina chuckled, leaning closer to give a quick peck on Necrozma’s snout. “So are you. Don’t forget that.”

Necrozma smiled, and he leaned forward, forcing Giratina into the wall.

Their mouths touched, as did their tongues. Necrozma closed his eyes, letting himself feel everything, exist in that situation, and to enjoy the wonderful feeling inside of him.

Everything stopped. Nothing in that moment mattered, except their breathing, and their love. Necrozma was sure of it. As sure as he could be.

They pulled back, breathing heavily. Necrozma continued to smile for a little longer, but his softness shattered into a frown.

“Even if they don’t accept it, I will save them. Because… that’s what heroes do.” Necrozma stated. “Even… if they need to be monsters to do the right thing.”

---

They returned to their duties for the rest of the day… or at least, Giratina did. Necrozma was left pensive, thinking of what he could do to save the world.

It was a massive task, even for someone like him. And with just one ally? Even harder. If he managed to convince more of his companions to help… if he could do just that… he’d be a true hero.

So he entered his room, sitting on the throne and giving out a large sigh. I know I said I’d be a monster if it meant saving the mortals from their own hubris… but I don’t know how to do it. Hmph.

One thing was certain: there would be opposition. Too much of it, perhaps.

If only I could MAKE them see. Think the way I do. Act the way I do. Convince them that my way… is the RIGHT way. Hm…

How hard could it be? He had a way with words, if Giratina was any proof of that.

Tina… could be an exception. He sighed.

“Necrozma.”

A familiar noise. Something slimy crawled under his door and reshaped itself.

The Voice. It was the Voice.

“You. What are  you  doing here?”

They didn’t move an inch, yet, their body continued to wiggle. “To talk.”

“Is this about my actions in that village? I am not apologizing for them. I did what I thought was right.”

“Yes, yes, I believe we all heard about it during the meetings.” They took a step forward. Necrozma almost felt the Voice was… smiling?

“Then what  are  you here to talk about?”

“I believe you want to get allies.” They said, shaking their head. “I am but a watcher. I will not join either of your sides. However, there is something I can do.”

Necrozma raised a brow. “Do go on.”

“I already warned Xerneas that something may be brewing. Therefore, I must do the same to you. She and others might be trying to stop you.”

There was something odd about it. Why weren’t they trying to erase Necrozma? Why was this conversation happening in the first place?

It makes no sense. Unless… they want this to happen.

“Perhaps you could achieve your objective.” The Voice turned back, ready to leave. “With that gift I gave you… there are endless possibilities. With enough light, who knows? You might be able to convince anyone… to see things your way.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

The Voice wobbled again, as if shrugged. “There are many sides to a war. To serve my purpose, I may help them all.”

Necrozma cringed. “And if I tell Xerneas…?”

“She will not believe you.”

Necrozma watched them leave, and was left staggered by all the Voice said. A lot, and very little at the same time.

But… I will do it. I will save the world. I’ll gather allies, and I will save them.

All of them.