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When it was all said and done, they handed him a crown.[break][break]
A crown?[break][break]
He stared down at it for a good, long time before he even thought to put it on his head. It was a corroded, tarnished thing, like the city itself, and it felt far too heavy in his hands. He thanked the woman who'd handed it to him - a kindly peasant with tired eyes - and turned to face the man next to him, the person he'd been fighting side-by-side with until they'd all, collectively, finally defeated the massive Garbodor and the Articuno's armies.[break][break]
"I think there's been some sort of mistake," he murmured to Isaac Merlo. His body ached in a bone-weary way, and he felt rattled by the relentless, violent nature of the poisoned Pokémon. All around him, people kneeled, swearing fealty to Caleb and Isaac. Even Aurelie Lefevre dipped her head to them in respect; she'd been with them throughout the battle - courageous and clever - but even she seemed to feel they were deserving of the sudden elevation to kingship.[break][break]
That's what the peasants were chanting: All hail the kings of Motostoke![break][break]
And who was he, in that moment, to argue with them? Who was he to deny them? The beaten down people of this strange memory of Motostoke were in desperate need of a silver lining, something to keep them going. Sometimes, all it took was the right sort of leader to inspire the most powerful remedy of all for grief and pain: hope.[break][break]
"He's the one you want," Caleb tried to tell them, deferring to Isaac. "He's the real hero."[break][break]
Isaac was the one who'd rallied them. Isaac was the one who'd protected them. Isaac was the one who had bolstered all of their attacks, with words and his powered up armor. Caleb had merely heeded his call, which had felt like the right thing to do. Deeper still, Caleb had wanted to ensure that a surplus of courage didn't kill the younger man.[break][break]
Isaac's life was precious, after all. Caleb had promised to help Isaac make it out of Rocket alive.[break][break]
But here in this Galar-that-wasn't-Galar, in a time-outside-of-time, Rocket and League were suddenly meaningless labels, their faction conflict a footnote in comparison to the larger war going on between the poison and the kneeling peasants.[break][break]
We did what the Calyrex wanted, Caleb thought. Play along, and we'll be sent home.[break][break]
So he put the crown on his head, even though its weight was an uncomfortable symbol of an authority he did not feel he deserved.[break][break]

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[attr="class","skulltitle"]導通抵抗

[attr="class","skullbody"]Three days ago, Caleb tried to tell Isaac that he was the real choice of king. Three days ago, Isaac told him there was nobody he'd rather have ruling by his side. So what if neither of them felt ready? So what if neither of them thought they were fit to carry such a burden? So what if neither of them had all the answers?[break][break]

Today, they would make all of the answers.[break][break]

"Education. Think that's gotta be our first priority," Isaac said. "Makes everything else easier, y'know? There's only a small handful of us, and who knows how many of the others are gonna play along? But if we can show Galar even half of what we've figured out hundreds of years from now . . ."[break][break]

" 'Sides. We gotta make sure they're okay when we're gone, right?"[break][break]

The goal was to get back home. It always had been. It always would be. There were too many people that needed him. There were too many people that he needed. Sure, he was away from Rocket's chain of command. Sure, he still had Caleb, ana fell, and Aurelie Lefevre to rely on, who made up a solid chunk of his ten favorite people. And sure, he was being treated like a king, a novelty that was both overwhelming and kind of exciting-[break][break]

Broken down like this, things didn't seem so bad. But this was a dream. A fantasy. The dying memories of a once great king. They weren't a substitute for his life. They couldn't be. There were people counting on him and he couldn't just abandon them. At least if he planted the seeds of something greater in his wake, he wouldn't feel so bad when the Galarians realized their stay was temporary.[break][break]

"Infrastructure, too. This city's seen better days. But it was a big industrial hotspot before, right? That means we've got a lot of room to work with." There was no chance of running trains. Not through the gloom that surrounded the memory world. But they had a head start on bringing this city back to life, and by god, they'd take it. "The more we set up now, the less we need to work in the future. Win-win, yeah?"[break][break]

Throwing himself into planning was the easiest solution. When Isaac's mind wandered, it could either tumble down the crevices of scars etched down his psyche, or it could soar high on a rising wind of new ideas and endeavors. Needless to say, #2 was far preferable. Maybe he was going a little hard with it, but an entire city depended on them. He had to, right?[break][break]

". . . Still feels so weird, doesn't it?"

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Three days in, it definitely still felt weird.[break][break]
Calyrex did not return. Those from Hoenn were not sent home. The reasons why were beyond Caleb; the scientifically inclined - such as ana fell - might look for answers in the landscape, the constellations, the energies of this strange memory, but that wasn't Caleb's specialty. All he knew was that an entire city's worth of peasants were relying on him and Isaac to lead them, so they'd better come up with a plan fast.[break][break]
Isaac had all the ideas. The way he enthusiastically rambled on to Caleb in their makeshift "castle" (the hotel attached to the central train station) turned Caleb's mouth up in an amused grin. Isaac's hope was infectious: the animated way he seemed to know exactly what was needed to inspire a group of downtrodden people who'd, quite literally, lived through hell.[break][break]
He left the "smart" stuff to Isaac. Education, infrastructure, resource management. He offered to do some of the hard labor, but many insisted that such work was not fit for a king. How he hated the title at first, wore it like a brand of shame rather than a badge of honor. The crown would have gathered dust if not for Isaac's constant reminders that symbols mattered.[break][break]
In times of war, they especially mattered.[break][break]
SIX MONTHS[break][break]
It was war that Caleb knew the most about, in the end, and so he took it upon himself to direct the effort of setting up a city watch. After Oliver Shrakes pointed out the ominous prophecy, scrawled creepily across the city walls, they agreed that training grounds could prove useful. An armory was built and a forge established, which Caleb entrusted to Aurelie Lefevre.[break][break]
The former Ranger spent a few hours every day at the training grounds, practicing Pokémon battling and traditional combat with the peasants. Men and women who were of age were encouraged to spar with the king; at first, nobody showed up, afraid to fight one of their leaders. And then one day, a woman barely a day over eighteen challenged him to a sword fight. She kicked his ass, and for the first time in what felt like months (centuries?) he laughed until his sides hurt.[break][break]
Swords had never been his thing, but he got better and better as more of the peasants offered to practice with him. He caught on quickly, having lived most of his adult life as a trained assassin. He had the athleticism, he just needed to learn the right techniques. Every night he went to bed with an aching body and a satisfied, exhausted mind.[break][break]
The less he could ruminate on the fact that they were trapped in a very detailed cage, the better.[break][break]
"We need to learn more about the land outside the city walls," he said to Isaac one day, the two of them surveying the reconstruction of a Pokémon Center and multi-use medical bay. "I could lead an expedition with a few others, perhaps." But not you, his tone implied. Isaac's life was far too precious to risk.[break][break]
Even after six months, Caleb still thought of Isaac as their true king.

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[attr="class","skulltitle"]導通抵抗

[attr="class","skullbody"]Caleb wasn't the only king focused on direct action, of course. He and Isaac just went about it in different ways.[break][break]

Caleb largely kept away from the capital K parts of his duty; the courts, the policies, the diplomacy, the delegation. Maybe it was because he still felt unworthy of it. Maybe it was because he wanted to shield Isaac from risking his own neck. But he preferred to treat his role almost symbolically, leading from the front and tackling the dirtier work Isaac shouldn't have to.[break][break]

Oh, how Isaac envied him. But whenever he tried to admit that, Caleb pointed out that the people needed him. If Caleb was the lantern in the unknown darkness, Isaac was the lighthouse over their home city. He was their beacon. He was their inspiration. If anything were to happen to him, the city would be in shambles.[break][break]

Sometimes, Isaac wondered if it was the people who believed that, or if it was Caleb.[break][break]

Nevertheless, if that was where he could help most, then that was where he'd be. When their scared mob of peasants started taking the form of courts and industries, he was on the frontlines of working with them. In a perfect world, he'd want to make all of their hopes come true. But if anyone knew there was no such thing as a perfect world, it was Isaac.[break][break]

He couldn't just magically pull the city of their dreams out of his ass. But he could at least plant the seeds to make it happen. He'd always had an eye for people's talents and passions, and by aiming the right people in the right directions, he could make a world of difference. His role as king was no different from his role as Pokemon trainer; strength came from unity, and it was going to take both the past and the future striving as one to help them survive this new world.[break][break]

Not every plan was a perfect one. Not every idea bore fruit. Already, there were times he had to make hard choices about what to prioritize and who to replace. But he'd faced these challenges with kindness and understanding, and that made even the bitter pills that little bit easier to swallow.[break][break]

That wasn't to say he and Caleb's roles were completely distinct. Whenever Caleb confessed his dreams for a better world, Isaac fervently fought for them in the courts. He didn't care how shy his fellow king was about the spotlight; he refused to let that mean his insights fell on deaf ears. Often, he received the credit anyway, but he knew Caleb would know the truth.[break][break]

At the same time, Isaac wasn't letting the skills Zev Harcourt and Finnegan Yang had taught him go to waste. Even if he didn't have the hours Caleb could burn at the training grounds, he practiced swordplay and grappling among his royal guard. At times, he even trained with his own Pokemon, though he learned a harsh lesson about never telling a Lucario to stop holding back.[break][break]

Considering all of the above, it was no surprise when Isaac bristled a little when Caleb brought up his expedition idea. "You're not the only one capable here, you know," he said, having become far too familiar with what this tone meant by now. "And . . . I'm not the only one they value. The people can't afford to lose you, either."[break][break]

"Neither can I."[break][break]

He had to make that clear. He couldn't let that shadow hang over the rest of their reign. But with it out of his system, a soft smile spread across his face. "But there's nobody I'd trust more to take charge on this. Just send a signal if you run into too much trouble, okay? I'll be there."

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