Mt. Pyre isn't one of Gavin's usual haunts; the many Pokemon he'd lost to the Light Devourer had no graves to visit, and the Sandslash lost to experimentation are buried in unmarked plots. He'll visit them rarely, when he's feeling particularly somber, but they are not the reason he's here tonight.

Rocket's underboss kneels in the dirt, cultivating tilled earth and carefully plucking weeds from the site of planting.

His phone vibrates silently against his thigh, and Gavin fishes it from his pocket and gets to his feet. Dark fog swirls around him in a comforting embrace, for he has eyes in the sky to warn him of approaching intrusion. He whistles, bringing the silver-feathered Corviknight down and instructing it with soft words to fly low and guide Katherine Fairburne to their location.

When they meet, Gavin surveys her curiously. "Katherine," he says after a pause. "You wanted to talk?"

Obviously, or she wouldn't have come all the way out here in pursuit of him. It's less a question and more an invitation: go ahead, I'm listening.

Where once Katherine's teasing might have affronted the terse underboss, Gavin actually smiles at her, sharp canines flashing in Mt. Pyre's gloom.

"There are other ways to curry favour with me," he jests back, "but the sentiment is appreciated."

She locks eyes with him, and it's not difficult to see the fire in the amber depths of his own. He is not just confident, but happy. There is no doubt in his mind what she's asking.

"Never felt better," he replies, earnest. Then, he boldly ventures, "Was it the same for you?"

He's suspected her since the events at the church, but there had never been a good time to ask. Though they'd had their differences, he was not keen on accosting her in front of fellow Rockets. This was a delicate subject.

"Some legends are like that," he muses, remembering Articuno's words. There are others more suited to [your aggression] than I am. How right it had been. Gavin wouldn't trade his new partnership for the world. "They all make their choices for different reasons. Power, peace..."

Partnership, he thinks, and feels the comforting weight of Lugia's presence in his thoughts.

"Avatars are not so easily created." There's a note of defiant pride in his tone. Grateful though he is for what Walsh had done for Lugia, avatarship was something Lugia had granted him. "It was not Walsh who bestowed Lugia's power onto me. I know why I was chosen."

A smile flickers across his lips, and he offers no further insight.

"Regardless, Rocket is attracting the attention of legends of its own volition, now." He can recall a time when Rocket had no Avatars, at least to his knowledge. Now he knew of at least five: Lulu Flint, Katherine Fairburne, Remiel Calcifet, Walsh... and himself. "Our power grows, and so does our influence."

"You should have been there," he agrees, inclining his head. "Perhaps the grunts misunderstand the truth of what happened, but rest assured that the choice belonged to Lugia, and not to the machine."

He feels the weight of its presence in his thoughts, a confirmation.

He laughs, sharp, and shakes his head.

"I've never discounted the League's strength... only their intelligence. They've got plenty of powerful fools willing to follow them."

There was a reason Rocket had spent so long in the shadows and only now begun to sow the seeds of doubt. They were building up resources, power, Avatars.

Gavin knows more than he's willing to divulge. His lip twitches with a secret smile. "Well, Lugia never spoke before, so it certainly did something."

Whether it had been incapable of speech or had simply chosen not to thanks to its animalistic rage was irrelevant; it hadn't spoken, to Gavin or anyone else as far as he was aware, until Walsh's machine had worked its magic.

He scoffs at the thought of the League, and says no more on the subject.

He does ask, curious, "Does Giratina speak to you?"

It hadn't, when they'd encountered it in the wormhole, but she hadn't been its avatar then. It had tried to attack them, besides.

"There's a chance not all of them can." He shrugs. "You know how it is when looking into myth and legend, I'm sure; you never know what accounts to believe."

The only legendary who had spoke to him prior to Lugia had been Articuno, in search of its avatar. He had seen others, but never heard them.

There are details with Lugia's speech: its arrogance in battle compared to an otherwise soothing influence. These details he keeps to himself.

"Articuno is capable," for he did not know Katherine had also entreated the icy legend, "so one could assume its counterparts can as well."

Not that anyone knew what Zapdos was up to.