"that's a question for our police department," she scoffs incredulously. she feels herself a broken record. if he's trying to make a point, he's doing a piss poor job of it. it's not her job to chase after every turncoat that's defected to rocket. 

her smirk deepens. 

memories of galar have done nothing but burden her. she scored them into her body, burned them into her synapses, so that she may measure her own grief. but here, and now, there is satisfaction in knowing Eva Morales forgave him. and though that forgiveness has been lost, she knows that it is possible. 

that smirk curls. her baxcalibur breathes steadily on the snowfield while she holds her own. 

he makes the mistake in thinking that her heart is here, on this field. that she would bring it anywhere close for him to shatter. she has what he doesn't - pieces of her cherished by loved ones, held steadfastly, allowing her to overcome her anger in an instant. 

she will find the truth later, but right now, if she falls prey to his bait, it will ruin everything. she does not give ground.

"Elisabeth Fiorelli attacked her on the field against kyurem," she says. "i care more about bringing the avatar of wo-chien and tapu fini to her knees more than i do some turncoat you seem to have a personal vendetta against."

her baxcalibur waits. the field is hers.

MATIAS SILPH

☉

she cocks her head. 

"lilycove? i think you're misremembering. we skirmished in littleroot when you set your patron on nearby homesteads." she pokes gentle holes in his story, searching for cracks in his fracturing state of mind. 

ice squeals under the intense heat of his next pokemon and niv-mizzet roars welcomingly to his new opponent. every mote of fire thrown his way only fuels his prowess; icicles come together swiftly and more dangerously, the temperature drops in the room, and glee alights in the dragon's eyes. 

"to be quite frank, i don't give a shit about the squads in kanto. i don't care about the past. i care about hoenn's present and its future."

MATIAS SILPH

☉

artificial sunlight turns harsh. flames pour from the magmortar's arms and niv-mizzet weaves around them, though the terrain is more difficult now; ice starts to give way to watery slush. but every lash only makes niv more dangerous, cells churning through thermal exchange.

and finally, as he breaks, she laughs. 

"i'm saving hoenn. what do you think i do all day, matias? while you chase after the past, i lay the foundation for our future."

an avalanche tumbles forth, intent on swallowing him whole. 

"i help Melody Miro rehabilitate pokemon affected by rocket and local disasters. i oversee the amnesty program with ollie morales . i saved our councilman - your brother -  from death. i held off three legendaries and two fucking avatars by myself.

"i am there when my people need me. my friends. my family. i work myself to the bone because i have people worth fighting for. so don't tell me otherwise just because you don't."

MATIAS SILPH

☉

therein glows the tendon, fat and thick. one slash at his heel - the utterance of his brother's name - and he's become undone. she pities him in brevity; for so long, she measured her own worth against fernando and it brought her only misery. it only gave him power. 

the wall comes up between them and her victory is had. the tectonic plates of his mind are still shifting, still dangerous (maybe now more than ever), but caverns are yawning open, inviting her in for exploitation. 

her breath catches. the air is thick with steam. her side of the field is still encrusted with ice, but niv has to take careful steps backwards away from the encroaching flame, enduring the heat.

seeds of doubt still fester in her skin, laced with bitter traces of resentment. there will always live in her that self-doubt: that he made her. that he shaped her decisions. that she never truly escaped because in the end, it was all part of his plan. 

hatred glimmers in golds, but she chokes it down. 

she looks at her enemy across the field, cowering behind his walls, and she says, "i'm sorry you're hurt."

MATIAS SILPH

☉

amidst the smoke and steam and flying shrapnel, he cannot see the tightening of her jaw. he rubs salt in old wounds, but her sutures hold fast. the only person strong enough to tear her apart has done so, countlessly. far more hatefully than he ever could. 

and she has long since shed the skin of her own self-loathing.

"i respect him," she says measuredly. that's why he's alive. "your choices are your own, matias. whatever you've done, you can't blame him."

MATIAS SILPH

☉

"tzarafar," she snaps under her breath as an earth spike dislodges itself from the ground and careens into niv-mizzet's back. the baxcalibur can't turn in time and he's exposed to a deluge of flame. he could go on and grapple with the magmortar with murderous intent, but freya recalls him. 

her sygna suit flares to life. metalwork knits seamlessly over her training garb as lyune's bulk hits the battlefield. spittle flies from his maw as he roars. draconic flames pulse bright purple from his throat. 

"even though he made you too?"

MATIAS SILPH

☉