Chapter 67: Blinding Me With Science

Entry 1093
I don’t know who he is, but I hate him.

I only saw him briefly. Didn’t even speak to him. But he gives off light just like I do. Light stuffed inside some vaguely canine body.

And that light…

Something about his aura just set me off.

I tried to attack him. Next thing I knew I was buried under a pile of glowing hexagons. Blasted zygarde. Cowards ganged up on me.

I still sense him here, though. They’re dangling him in front of me like a rotten piece of meat.

Next time I see him, I’ll blow that goofy smile off his face.

Entry 1096
I saw him again. Things went… poorly.

I’m still shaking. It’s a struggle to write this out.

It’s one thing for multiple powerful legends to overwhelm you. But for one guy— one stupid necrozma with the dumbest look on his weird mutt-bird face to inflict such raw, agonizing pain? It’s unfathomable. Never has a single blow wrought so much harm.

One strike. It was just one strike.

Yet it was as if he had ripped my soul right out of my body. I’m not even sure he intended to do that, because he quickly undid it. I’ll never forget the agony of those few seconds of separation, however. The helplessness. The despair. I can never let myself get put in that position again.

But I can’t let go of that feeling. Not if I’m going to make that power my own.

I don’t care how long it takes to learn it. I will. Might makes right. With a power like that, no one will ever betray me again.

Yuna wasn’t sure how to prepare for being under fire by space pirates. Fortunately, it appeared that all the giant water bursts and huge icy torrents were focused away from the debris chunk the lustrous ore warped them back to. She peered out from a tangled mess of rock and slag to see the ships a couple of hundred meters away. One of them had blastoise standing at the edge of the deck, their cannons attached to much larger cannons that made their Hydro Pumps far bigger than even the best dragalgae and goodra in Aeon’s army.

“What is ze matter, Mademoiselle Chomp? All out of witty comebacks?”

The drakloak didn’t recognize the chatot perched on the highest sail, somehow projecting his obnoxious, nasally voice.

“Come to think of it, you guys needed special thingamajiggies to come here,” Reshiram pointed out. “What’s the deal with the pirates?”

Yuna relayed Reshiram’s thought to the others.

“They must have some sort of field around their ships,” Cyril said. He remained in his human guise, crouching by the lustrous ore. “Doesn’t matter. We need to get the fragment from the others.”

“Why doesn’t Princess just open a rift to them, then?” Nikki suggested, jerking her head in Yuna’s direction.

“I mean… that’s reasonable, but it doesn’t stop them from firing,” Yuna replied. She poked her head back up again. Neither Noctum nor Valkyrie could get a single attack in. The two pirate ships alternated Hydro Pumps and Blizzards. They had managed to freeze over some of the debris fragments. Just how much did those cannons amplify their attacks?

“Then let’s call in reinforcements!” Nikki’s mohawk sparked. She pressed her right hand against her head. “Who’s free? We need extra hands, here!”

“There aren’t any more of Cyril’s astral collars available,” Seifer said. “Noctum and Valkyrie took the last ones.”

“What about Boss Kitty?” Nikki growled.

“Yeah, what about him?”

Sighing, Cyril braced himself against the rubble by the lustrous ore. “C’mon, Gene, you and I both know that the Blackskull Buccaneers crashing the party means the empire doesn’t want to touch this place with a twenty meter stick.”

“Huh. He actually called him ‘Gene,'” Reshiram noted. “Must be serious.”

But simple conversation wasn’t helping Noctum out. Yuna saw a Hydro Pump clip Noctum’s wing. He tumbled away from Valkyrie, bouncing off one large strip of metal and veering toward another.

She couldn’t wait for Gene. Noctum needed help now.

The drakloak zipped over to Nikki. “You want to contribute, right?”

“Is this some kind of trick?” The toxtricity quirked her brow.

“Ready an electric attack,” Yuna whispered. “Your strongest one.”

“Ready it for what?”

“To blow those ships off course.”

Yuna rubbed her hands together. Rayquaza, I’m going to need a little wind for this one. She paused. Or actually a lot of wind.

“Say no more, Princess! Thine wish is my command!”

“Leo, get off my head and stay with Cyril, okay?” she instructed.

The fake dreepy obliged and Yuna floated away from them, recalling how she directed Rayquaza to conjure large twisters when facing down Chernabog.

Once she was in open space a good enough distance from the others, Yuna spread her hands out. Focusing on Rayquaza and their connection, she clapped her hands together.

Nothing happened at first. Yuna’s face scrunched up. “C’mon. C’mon.” She squeezed her hands tighter against one another. Within a few seconds, inky shadows pooled in the middle of her hands.

Perfect. Now, Rayquaza!

Yuna thrust her hands apart. Shadowy flecks drifted in front of her and her Soul Dew briefly glistened. A large tornado whipped up in front of her. The drakloak looked over her shoulder toward the others.

Fortunately, Nikki decided Yuna’s tornado was the signal. The toxtricity jumped onto a pile of rubble and strummed her gills, creating large shockwaves. They struck the tornado, turning it into a mix of fierce wind and lightning.

Several pirates on the nearest ship spotted the lightning tornado. Frantic pointing and shouting ensued. The bulky floatzel at the wheel quickly spun it while a pair of armaldo next to it pulled levers and the thrusters roared to life.

Yuna’s tornado was faster. It descended on the ship within seconds, causing it to spin about and strike the other ship that had come with it.

“S-Sacré bleu!” Chatot managed to fly off the first ship’s mast in time, but his underlings were less fortunate. Many were thrown off the ship and sent careening through open space.

“Noctum, quick!” Yuna said, hoping the charizard’s X-transceiver was on. She focused on the scorched metal wall Noctum desperately clung to and conjured a small rift. To her delight, a second rift opened right next to Noctum. Yuna stuck her arm through it and opened her hand. “Gimme the fragment!”

“W-What just happened?” Noctum blinked rapidly.

“No time to explain.” Yuna poked Noctum’s armored belly. “Give it here.”

“R-Right.”

The moment Yuna felt something rough and pointy in her hand, she pulled it back through the tiny rift and shut it. She confirmed it was the Red Chain fragment, then squished it against her torso until it was floating inside her ectoplasm.

“I’ve got the fragment! Let’s move,” she announced, darting back toward the rest of the team.

“Oi, the wind be coming from that way!”

Squeaking, Yuna forced herself into a Quick Attack to fly behind piles of twisted metal rubble. An ursaring pirate floating through space, pointed near where Yuna had just been. Two staraptor close to him flapped their wings, peppering the area with Air Slash crescents.

On the planet fragment, Cyril waved Yuna over, still crouching by the lustrous ore. He held Leo in his arms.

“Okay. Back to LaRousse we go,” he said, reaching toward the lustrous ore. “You coming, Nikki?”

“Nah, I’m staying here.” The toxtricity smacked her gills, sending another shockwave toward one of the staraptor. “If they find the lustrous ore, they’ll chase after you guys, right? You need a distraction. At least until Boss Kitty decides to get off his ass.”

Lightning crackling around her feet, she leaped off the rubble and flipped upside down. The electricity drew Nikki toward large sheets of metal floating past the planet fragment. “Hey, Long John Loser! Looking for me?”

“That lass cooked me keister!” Staraptor squawked, pointing to his singed tailfeathers. “Let’s skewer her, mateys!”

Yuna wanted to protest, but the sight soon disappeared in a rush of blue and purple light as Cyril touched the lustrous ore and sent her away from the skirmish.

It was one thing to look at a city from a distance. It was another thing entirely to actually navigate a large city. During his “upbringing,” Widget had plenty of cityscape footage put into his databanks. Probably from Troopers or various assistants moving through Eterna City with cameras strapped to them.

Widget kept his eyes firmly fixed ahead of him, as he had since they’d arrived here. The group meetings he’d gotten dragged to were crash courses in being around other people. This was different. Humans and pokémon of different shapes and sizes passed by with every second.

He had to ignore them, though. Those service silvally were long gone and he didn’t have all the time in the world to waste on trying to track them down. Maybe some of the street signs at the moving walkway intersections could point him in the right direction?

Widget got off the moving walkway and approached an electronic sign listing a variety of different places with arrows to indicate their directions. Shopping outlets and restaurants. The pier for the Battle Frontier ferry. A plethora of restaurants. And—

Ah, there! A service silvally station off to the west.

Station made Widget think of transit, but maybe it was something else in this context. He trotted to the westward moving walkway and headed along it.

There were glass buildings interspersed with boutique stores and restaurants. Mannequins modeled the latest styles, from sun dresses with soft ocean blues to shorts that were entirely too, well, short for Widget’s liking. His old files had said some people — humans in particular — dressed that way to attract mates. The type: full couldn’t understand how barely covering a backside could attract a mate, but he was built to be a hero, not fall in love.

He was so engrossed with the short shorts he hadn’t realized the moving walkway ended until its edge clipped one of his right talons. Squawking, Widget hopped off. Various sized humans looked at him. Some wingull on the streetlights honked with laughter.

Cheek bolts burning from embarrassment, Widget kept his head down and followed a sign pointing down a side road.

Things had moved so fast he hadn’t had the time to process the changes Leo brought out beyond just a starry pelt. His voice had grown more organic. Having thoughts was less about pulling files out of the databanks his fath— the emperor had carefully curated, and more about just thinking.

The sudden transition should have been jarring enough to shock Widget’s systems. Yet here he was, trying to track down some other pokémon just like him.

He didn’t have to walk much farther to find the station and confirm the descriptor was surprisingly accurate. It was built like a bus or train station, with metal guard rails, glass panels full of instructions and rules, and automated kiosks for transactions.

The difference was the open field behind it. A dozen of these silvally meandered about. Some got water from a communal watering pool while others ate from silver dishes. A few even sat next to each other in the corner of the field. Wires connected their cheek bolts to an electric socket.

Widget stood there, pondering his next move. Obviously, going up to the kiosk wasn’t an option. The fencing hardly made much of a barrier, though. So, Widget trotted up to a couple of silvally sitting next to each other on the opposite side.

[—since your last job?] one silvally asked.

The other tilted their head. [A week. But I have a good feeling something’s coming soon.]

That metallic backing to their voices was oh so familiar to Widget. He did his best not to flinch. Just needed to be friendly. “Hi there,” he chirped. “Any chance you’ve, uh, got a moment to chat?”

The two silvally’s white fur stuck up. They looked at Widget in unison, then back at each other, then back at Widget.

[Who are you?]

“I’m, uh, new in town.” Widget slowly wagged his fish tail. That would show he was friendly, right?

[Serial number?] the other silvally asked. Both of their eyes flickered to circular loading icons.

Widget did his best not to tense. Lying wasn’t going to earn their trust. “I’m… W1-DG3T. But you can call me Widget.”

Both silvally’s loading icons disappeared. They squinted at Widget. [Your serial number is not on our server. Are you a bootleg?]

“Bootleg?” Widget was hurt, though he supposed by this dimension’s standards that could have been true. “N-No. I’m just… not from LaRousse. I’m with the rangers.”

[You should still be in our system,] they said in unison. [All silvally are connected through RKSnet.]

The silvally on the left frowned. [If you are a bootleg, you should let us evaluate you.]

“I’m not a bootleg!” Widget knew that getting defensive wasn’t going to help his case, but he couldn’t compete with their programming. And the last thing he needed to do was make things harder for the rest of Team Bastion.

But he had to get them talking. Widget lay down on his belly — an attempt at coming across as docile — and tucked his head down. “If I tell you guys the truth, will you hear me out?”

Both silvally exchanged concerned looks. [Are you confessing to something worse than being a bootleg?]

“I— no, that’s not it.” Widget’s fur stood on end. It was sounding more like he’d walked himself into an interrogation. “I’m from another dimension, okay?”

Silence. Widget looked up at the other two silvally and their expressions remained neutral. They were well-trained… or was it well-programmed? Either way, the revelation hadn’t startled either of them.

[That is also something we’re supposed to report,] one of them said.

The other bobbed their head. [The world has been free of dimensional breeches for seven years, eight months, six days, twelve hours, forty minutes, and seventeen seconds.] They paused. [Eighteen seconds. Nineteen—]

“I get the picture,” Widget said, rising back to a seated position. “All I’m asking is you not follow those protocols for just a little bit. Please?”

Even though Widget wasn’t asking the questions he wanted to, he was getting the answers he sought. Indirectly, of course. But still concerning.

Both silvally looked at each other for a while. One turned back to Widget. [Would you say that us not reporting you will be… helpful?]

“Yes. Helpful to me and my friends.”

[Oh. Are your friends bootlegs, too?] the other silvally asked.

“No. They’re other pokémon,” Widget said. “And we’re traveling here for business. That’s all I can really say.”

[I see.] The second silvally slowly bobbed their head. [Our priority first and foremost is helping people who need assistance. So, I suppose in that sense, we can look the other way. But if an administrator combs through our logs—]

“I should be long gone by then.” Widget waved them off with his right foreleg. “I just… really needed to see you guys.” He paused, glancing around the field. A few silvally were staring, while others minded their own business. One was sleeping awkwardly on their side, legs stuck up in the air.

“Well, not you two, specifically. Just the service silvally in general.”

One of the silvally rested their head on the fence. [What for? Our programming doesn’t allow us to fall in love or anything, so if you were looking for a partner—]

“N-No. Nooo way.” Widget’s cheek bolts went bright red. He almost scooted back from the silvally. “It’s more like, uh, seeing you guys is making me grapple with my own creation?”

The second silvally rested their head next to their buddy. [Are you asking us to deduce your reasoning?]

Tittering, Widget shook his head. “Sorry. Nerves.”

Except he wasn’t supposed to get nervous. And that was the problem.

“It’s just…” Widget’s voice trailed off and he shuddered.

Deep breath. Keep it simple. That was all Widget had to do.

“Are you two… happy?”

The silvally tilted their heads in unison. [I don’t understand the question,] one said.

[We are programmed to help. We enjoy helping,] the other added.

Widget pawed nervously at the asphalt. Sure, that was what they said, but did they really feel that way? Or were they programmed for that? Like how he was programmed to think he would save everyone living in Eternatus.

“Okay.” Another deep breath. “What if you were suddenly freed from your programming? What would you do?”

Silence. Both silvally fixed expressionless gazes on Widget. Perhaps they were even looking through the type: full.

[Illogical,] one finally said.

[Our programming is flawless,] the other agreed. [Even if there was a lapse, helping humans is all I’ve done since my activation. It’s what I know. So, I would keep doing that.]

The first silvally frowned. [Why are you so fixated on this? Is it because you’re broken? Your vocal processors lack that kick silvally should have.]

Widget tensed up. “I’m—”

But the words wouldn’t come out. How could he explain his situation in a way their highly specified parameters could understand?

“I was more like you guys before,” Widget mumbled. “But the person who made me… filled my programming with a lot of lies. He made me think I was helping people, when the reality is I would have done harm to a lot of people if someone hadn’t stopped me.

“And the only reason I know that is because someone freed me from his programming,” he continued. “But something still feels wrong. Like I’m flying blindly and going to crash into something.” Widget shook his head. “When I saw there were pokémon here that looked like me, I thought maybe they could help me come to terms with this.”

Both silvally perked their heads up at the mention of helping Widget.

[You need help coming to terms with a loss?] one asked.

[Grief is complex. Everyone experiences it differently,] the other added.

Widget swallowed hard. Grief? No, that wasn’t the right word. He hadn’t really lost anything, right? A flawed worldview didn’t count. It couldn’t count.

… Right?

“I didn’t lose anyone, though,” Widget mumbled.

[Grief can sometimes accompany a large change in one’s life,] the first silvally explained. They looked at their companion, who nodded.

[When a major life change happens, one ‘loses’ a part of themselves,] they said, offering Widget an apologetic look. [Consider retirees, for example. The loss of regular coworker interaction and disruption in someone’s routine can trigger bouts of depression.]

Widget sat still. It made sense out loud, but a part of him took offense at getting compared to a retiree. And getting lectured at like he was sitting in a classroom.

Still, the silvally phrased it like they were trying to help. He couldn’t spit on their generosity. “What would you recommend for, uh, dealing with this?”

[It helps to have a strong support system,] one of them replied. [And if you don’t, even just finding one person you trust and reaching out to them about your situation is a good first step.]

The other silvally nodded. [You can also try to focus on things you can control.]

Widget raised a brow. “Meaning?”

[Tangible activities where you can see the outcomes,] the second silvally said. [You can even set goals for yourself. Would you like some help with that?]

See the outcomes, huh?

Widget tapped his talons against the asphalt. Tap, tap, tap.

Tangible activities. Viewable outcomes.

Well, fighting against the Paradigm and the Phantoms was certainly tangible. And, sure, maybe Widget wasn’t the one directly sealing up anomalies. But he could see the results pretty easily.

Doing that would put him on a collision course with Paradox, however. Could Widget really face down his father directly like that?

But I wouldn’t be doing it alone. I have a whole team. Fath— Paradox never made a team for me. He said I could do everything myself.

Which ended up being untrue. Gene’s team had taken down his giant battle mech. And now he was here.

Exhaling deeply, Widget got back to his feet. “I think… I have my answer.”

The two silvally tilted their heads, curious to hear more.

“I know something I can do. And people I can talk to.” Widget’s cheek bolts slowly turned in their sockets. “We might not… be the closest. But that’s more of a reason to reach out to them. Because they can help me. And I want to help them.”

He let that hand in the air for a bit. The two silvally’s tails wagged in unison and they exchanged quick smiles.

[It sounds like you have a plan,] one said.

The other silvally nodded. [I hope we were of some help to you.]

“Yes, you were.” Widget’s own tail wagged. “Thank you. Both of you. Now I gotta run… or my, uh, ‘pack’ will leave without me.”

The type— no, the silvally turned and trotted away from the station.

[Enjoy your day,] the service silvally chirped in unison.

“You too!” Widget shouted back. He switched his X-transceiver back on. “Hey, guys, I finished my little errand. Where are you?”

“At the museum,” Cyril whispered.

“What, already? How?!”

Yuna flinched. She knew her X-transceiver’s volume wasn’t high enough for anyone to hear but her, yet the utter silence of the dark, empty room she was in put her on edge. The drakloak almost shut the X-transceiver off on instinct.

“Found a loading bay for deliveries,” Cyril continued. He beckoned Yuna toward a small door that had some yellow light poking through its edges. “It was as easy as conjuring an illusory veil and following a delivery truck inside.”

Despite that “ease,” however, Cyril hadn’t lowered the veil. He assumed there were security cameras in the spacious bay and, though he might not have been able to see them, Yuna could. Neatly spaced out along the ceiling. Some pointed toward metal wireframe shelves with boxes on it. Others pointed at the large garage doors the trio had gone through.

“Do you think they use this for anything other than food?” Leo wondered. “That seems like a lot of food for a museum.”

“Shh.” Yuna tapped the fake dreepy’s lips with her right hand. “Not now.”

“So, how am I supposed to join you guys?”

“What, did the emperor not give you a cloaking device?” Cyril quipped.

“Not funny.”

“It’s kinda funny,” Cyril countered.

“… in a derisive, mocking sort of way,” Reshiram added. Yuna pushed him out of her mind and returned to focusing on the small door as it got closer and closer. There was a small black box on the side of it with a tiny red light.

“How far are you from the lustrous ore we used to get here?” Cyril asked, approaching the small box. “If you go there, Yuna can rift you over. We just have to find a restroom.”

“A restroom?”

“They don’t have cameras,” Cyril said. “Call us when you get there.” He crouched down slightly and scrutinized the box. “Well, shit. It’s an ID card reader.”

“What does that mean?” Leo said. “Are we at a dead end?”

“Leeeet’s not jump to any conclusions, here.” Cyril stood up and scrutinized the door. “Yuna, try seeing if you can phase through it.”

“Hmm?” The drakloak blinked. “Oh, duh!”

How long had it been since she’d actually taken advantage of being a ghost, anyway? Yuna supposed it didn’t matter. She floated up to it, only to throw a cautious look back at Cyril. “I’m not going to, like, reappear immediately, will I?”

“The veil should be wide enough to cover you through the door,” Cyril said. “But you might want to hand over the kid, first.”

Leo hopped off Yuna’s rectangular head before she could grab him, floating over to Cyril’s right shoulder. “Go, Mom!” He waved his hands around like pom-poms.

Nodding, Yuna concentrated. She pressed her hands against the metal and imagined that solid objects were water she could swim through. A thin strip of water, but water nonethele—

The drakloak quickly slipped through the door. Obnoxiously bright, yellow light greeted her. Yuna threw her arm up over her face, hissing. Why did humans need such annoying lights? Were windows not good enough for them?

Once she could see properly, Yuna found the large door handle. “Okay, Cyril, I’m just gonna open it a smidge. Think you can squeeze through?”

“Well, Boss Kitty might think my hips don’t lie, but I can manage.”

As Yuna reached for the handle, she heard a scoff through the X-transceiver.

“Bitch, I never said that.”

Cyril laughed. “Oh, c’mon, you’ve totally snuck peeks before.”

Gene snorted. “If I didn’t have to listen to Gilbert, I’d find that the most offensive thing I’ve heard today.”

Rolling her eyes, Yuna nudged the door open. Cyril managed to slip inside while carrying Leo. “Let’s hurry, just in case the door moved enough for the cameras to pick it up.”

The trio headed down the long white corridor, eventually finding multiple doors. One had a pane of darkened glass — one-way glass, according to Cyril — that showed a carpeted floor and a red wall with a sign pointing toward different exhibits. The door on the right, however, had what Cyril deemed a restroom sign. And, to his delight, the door opened when he tried the handle.

Inside was empty, save for ceramic tiles on the floors and walls, a sink with a mirror, a second door next to the sink that led the same way as the one heading into the museum, and a small gray cube that had gaps close to the floor and ceiling.

“I don’t think we need to go into the stall for this,” Cyril said. “You good, Widget?”

“Yeah. Whenever you’re ready.”

Cyril snapped his fake human fingers at Yuna. The drakloak envisioned their arrival spot and quickly opened a small rift overhead. She floated to the side a second before a squawking Widget fell through it, landing on the floor with a whampf.

“Owww.” Widget rubbed his right flank. “Why didn’t you let me just walk through it?”

Yuna shrugged. “I thought it’d be less weird if it was in the ground.”

“How’d your chat go?” Cyril asked, extending an arm to help Widget back up.

“Decently.” Widget stood up and shook himself out. “If it’s alright with you guys, can you call me a silvally instead of a type: full? It… suits me better. I think.”

“Aww, sounds like someone had themselves a little moment~”

Widget’s cheek bolts reddened. “B-Butt out, Gene! Aren’t you supposed to be busy?”

“There’s always time to tease a silval— whoa, hey, watch it, Zardy!”

“Sorry!” Noctum squealed.

“Sounds like they’ve got their hands full over there,” Reshiram said.

Yuna again forced his presence out of her mind. The drakloak had to focus on finding the anomaly. She didn’t need to think about that right now. Noctum would be fine. Gene and Valkyrie would have his back.

“Okay, everyone’s here.” She rubbed her hands together. “Let’s go check out that collider.”

Cyril threw up the illusory veil once again. They slipped through the restroom door one at a time. Fortunately, no one was around, so Cyril was free to drop it. The nearby sign came with a map of the museum that told them the collider was on the ground level in its own separate wing.

“Looks like there’s a staircase that leads to it past the DNA exhibit,” Widget said, blinking slowly at the sign. “Wait, DNA exhibit?”

“It’s the biology wing.” Cyril shrugged, beckoning them to follow along. The red wall gave way to colorful paintings of assorted trees. Pine trees on the left, palm trees on the right. And each wall had pokémon suited to that climate painted sitting in the branches or clutching tree trunks. Some like slakoth were easy to identify. Others looked different than Yuna recalled, like an exeggutor as tall as the painted palm trees.

The right wall quickly gave way to glass offering a view of one of the exhibits. There were glass cases with various plants in them, along with some open containers. The nearest had a bunch of funny-looking rocks and a sign above it reading “Fun With Fossils.”

“Hey, doesn’t that one picture kind of look like Baraz?” Reshiram wondered. “Y’know, if his bottom half actually matched his top?”

Yuna spotted the drawing in question on the side of the fossil exhibit. It did remind her of Baraz, except its lower half was also small and yellow, with little lightning bolt fur tufts on its feet and a small, bolt-shaped tail.

Uhh, I guess his kind turned out differently here? She quickly pushed those thoughts aside in the interest of keeping up with the others.

They rounded a few corners and the hallway expanded into a large circular room with two wavy central partitions.

“Cute. The design’s trying to mimic DNA.” Cyril chuckled, looking at some sort of sculpture that had a double helix of balls attached to sticks.

“DNA?” Yuna rubbed her head. “I know it stands for something, but…”

“Deoxyribonucleic acid,” Widget rifled off. “It’s the genetic material found in living creature’s cells.” He paused mid-step and glanced back at Yuna. “Err, organic creature’s cells.”

Yuna frowned. Was that a jab at her species?

“Nah, I think he’s just saying you’re made of ectoplasm,” Reshiram assured. “No cells. No DNA.”

Ah. Yuna didn’t know enough about the subject. She was ready to drop it and head for the other side of the room when Leo squeezed the front of her rectangular head.

“Ahhhh! On the screen!” He pointed left. “It’s the emperor guy!”

The other three turned left. There was a deoxys on a monitor, but it couldn’t have been Paradox. It was short and stubby, with a texture resembling colored markers. And its head had blunt, rectangular horns instead of pointy ones.

“Hi there, friends!” Deoxys waved. A few small children closer to the monitor waved back. “I’m Deena the deoxys and I’m here to teach you about DNA.”

“Yeeeeeeah.” Cyril rubbed the back of his head. “I think that’s just part of the exhibit, kiddo. Nothing to worry about.” He waved the fake dreepy off and continued across the exhibit.

Yuna floated after him, stealing glances back at the monitor. Deena’s cartoony body unraveled into parallel orange and blue lines with thin white lines running perpendicular.

“Y’see, DNA is the genetic code that makes each and every one of us ourselves…”

“… cannot fathom why Subject A is stuck in the attack form. By all accounts, the virus took up the Eterna Energy perfectly.”

Sticky abruptly stopped floating through the cold, metal hallway of Paradox Tower’s top floor when he heard an unfamiliar voice from the emperor’s office. It was coming through a speaker. Was the emperor on a call or listening to some sort of recording?

“No, you’re wrong.”

That was Paradox’s voice. A call, then.

“I’ve tried additional catalysts, denaturing and reannealing part of its body— nothing’s worked. It’s perplexing. My data on deoxys says that adaptation is their defining feature.”

Sticky frowned. That sounded less like a response to Paradox and more like the other voice was thinking out loud. So, it was a recording?

“Try again.”

“What good is mutated DNA that’s static? The world cannot evolve like that.”

Well, in that case, he could press onward. The naganadel had important news and that trumped whatever program Paradox was listening to.

“I said try again, damn it!”

Something smacked against metal. Gulping, Sticky quickened his pace.

“Still, even if it is a failure, I can overcome this challenge,” the voice continued. “It’s a puzzle. Another mystery amongst the myths and legends of the professor’s old world. Nothing got her blood pumping quite like a good mystery. Perhaps I will enjoy solving this puzzle.”

“No! No, I’m not a failure! I’m better! I’ve surpassed you! I’m the one in charge now, and—”

Sticky wasn’t sure what he expected when he reached the doorway, but the deoxys standing in the middle of his office whirled on him before he even had the chance to knock on the doorframe. The naganadel looked past the emperor, however, to the projection over his desk.

(Art by Leche.)

He didn’t recognize this human, nor did he think he was supposed to. Though the black bangles around the long, yellow hair obscuring part of her face brought to mind lucario mewgenic enhancements. The frozen projection faced Sticky’s right, one hand tapping her chin, the other wedged between her black jumpsuit and her white lab coat.

Judging by the flabbergasted look on Paradox’s face, Sticky should have turned around the moment he heard the projection’s voice. But the deoxys should have sensed him coming and turned it off, right? Was he that distracted by it?

“S-Sir?”

Paradox abruptly shut the projection off. A psychic pulse flung the small discoid projector into the far corner of his office. “Did you not see the do not disturb notification when you pressed the elevator button for my floor?”

“I did.” Sticky looked down at his tablet. “But this was an urgent matter, sir, and you said to ignore the notice if it was urgent.”

“Out with it, then.”

There was a growing pressure in the back of Sticky’s head. The naganadel tightened his grip on his tablet. “I just got a report back regarding Chernabog, sir. Troopers found torn fragments of his belt on Quasar Prime after the rift vanished, remember?”

“I’m aware.”

Sticky subconsciously drifted backwards a bit. “W-Well, according to the Harvester Unit, his soul didn’t return to us.”

He paused, expecting some sort of outburst, but it didn’t come. Sticky looked up to see Paradox leaning over, bracing his orange and blue hands against his desk.

“A slight variation, but that makes five.”

“Five?”

“Five Paradigm fragments missing.” Paradox’s core flickered. “Nidhogg, Baptiste, Exodes, and Beowolf all returned to the Harvester, but their souls are too weak to take to new hosts. Which means someone or something has taken their powers.” His arms briefly unraveled into tentacles before reannealing. “It’s the traitor, Chiron. It has to be. She’s trying to gather all of the Paradigm’s power for herself.”

Sticky nodded slowly. It made sense. Uroboros kept bringing her up. “Ah, of course, sir.” Sticky tapped a claw against his tablet. “Do you have any orders you want me to relay?”

“Continue preparing to attack Radiance,” Paradox said. “We might have to overwhelm Chiron with sheer numbers. And the only way to do that is with fresh bodies to craft my Paradox Pokémon from. When will the Iron Moths be ready?”

“Soon, sir. We just need another volcarona or two.”

“There were volcanrona in the class of Horizon Academy students.” Paradox pushed himself away from his desk and blipped right in front of Sticky. “I’m going to get them.”

Sticky stiffened. “S-Sir?”

“Do you trust me, Sticky?”

The naganadel shakily nodded. Why wouldn’t he? The emperor had unified all of the Qliphoth, save for a few lingering nuisances. Not even Matriarch had achieved that.

“Good.” Paradox put a hand on Sticky’s shoulder. “Then I’ll exchange that same courtesy to you. Tell no one of what you saw here. No. One.”

That was easy enough. But why? “Sure. But what exactly am I not saying?”

“That you saw the true face of our Matriarch, who Chiron savagely destroyed all those years ago.”