Espeon's Z-Move bathed the Space Center screens with precognitive power, stars completing their passage across the blank field map in streaks of accelerated light. Eyes glued to the crystal display, Chryssa's hands found one another in unconscious prayer as the cat-like creature unspooled the tightly-wound threads of time.

"Yes," she breathed, fingers laced together. "I can see it..."

The tangle the journey through the cosmos brought to light was not so easy to unravel—not to Chryssa, not to anyone. It left a resounding silence, more vast than the hole Arceus had left in space.

Bill Anderson seemed to have not even noticed the celestial body spinning towards them, his eyes were fixed so blindly on what was no longer there. Chryssa's gaze remained steady, unwavering, taking in the readings herself. She did not look to the youth pastor for guidance. On this path of empty stars, the priest was as lost as they.

But was God leaving, like Chryssa had prophesized—or, like THEO BECKETT seemed to think, was he already here?

"It's not," Chryssa said to Lulu Flint , hard-eyed again. "Arceus is gone, just like we expected. That," she dictated, somehow managing to sound disappointed, "Is His apocalypse."