2.

Archaeology is the study of history and prehistory through the excavation of sites and the analysis of artifacts and other physical remains.

The first thing he did with his money was buy a sandwich.

When was the last time he had enough money to buy one? Like, without burning his finances to a point beyond repair? Freshman year, most likely. When he had a lot of money from working at Burger Kingler. No, not a lot. Enough to crawl through college for a few months before student debt came knocking.

His parents didn't understand why he kept himself distant. They could've covered his tuition, easily. It was just...

He didn't want to rely on them forever. Better to have a trial by fire, and what a trial it had been. Howard had been burned to the point of incineration. He was practically ash, a seedbed from which student debt could go. As he ate his sandwich, he stopped and chuckled.

Student debt? He had no student debt. He was free.

He stopped. Free. He had originally hunted down this degree for knowledge. He wanted to explore ancient ruins and unearth the past, but now... Did he really need to finish graduate school? What would even be the point? After a moment, he chuckled. Of course there was a point. He would discover the truth behind the world.

There was so much to learn, like why people kept putting mustard on their sandwiches. Disgusting!

His internship's final day was coming up. After that, he would finally be hired. Everything would change after that. Nobody needed to know that he won the lottery. It would be a secret that he could pass on to his children, or something like that.

"That's right! I'm gonna make it!" Howard shouted as he looked around his cramped student dorm. There was so much history for him to preserve. Could he really do it on his own? He'd need help, certainly. " Maybe I'll start my own museum!"

After he graduated, then. He looked around his cramped apartment, and sighed. "Once I can get a better apartment, maybe..."

Once?

How about now?

3.

Archaeology is the study of history and prehistory through the excavation of sites and the analysis and preservation of artifacts and other physical remains.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Slayte, but we've decided not to keep you on with a paid position in our fossil restoration project." The Devon Corp scientist adjusted his glasses and frowned in apology. "Your work on fossil excavations while working with us has been a tremendous help. I've recommended you to the Slateport Oceanic Museum with high regards."

Of course they would say this. They had never wanted him around once he finished excavating complete Omanyte fossils. He had worked hard to get this internship. He had worked so, so hard. Yet, it didn't matter how hard he pushed, it felt like he was pushing against a ceiling that never threatened to crack.

Instead, he was the one who cracked apart.

"For what position?" Howard said tightly.

"I'm sorry?"

"The museum. What position?" Howard met the scientist's eyes, his own staring into the reflection of the man's glasses. He seemed oddly in control. That wasn't how he felt. Howard wanted to kick the man in the shins.

"I-"

"Nevermind. Forgive me for being so direct. I'll look around. Can I trouble you for a letter of recommendation?" Howard sighed and slumped his head. "Maybe it'll help in the search."

"Oh, of course. You were an incredible asset. I wish we could hire you." The scientist relaxed. "Say hello to your father for me."

"I will." Howard said before leaving the office. His father. The old man. Had Howard gotten this position at Devon Corp as a favor or through his own talents? He didn't want to be dependent on his family, but what if that was what had gotten him his position to begin with?

Had his own work meant nothing? Had his struggles with finances meant nothing?

What was he even striving towards? The Slateport Oceanic Museum? What a joke. They'd never hire him. They didn't need new archaeologists. They didn't need his skills. They'd consult him occasionally, but he would never be one of them. They'd praise him in public, but he was simply a tool. They'd use him as he was needed, before tossing him away like worthless dross.

It didn't matter. He'd be graduating soon. One of the youngest graduates in the university's history.

Then, it wouldn't matter.

Wait.

He stopped.

Why did he need an internship? A position? A job? He was set for life. He was like the oldest paleontologists in history! Rich men with too much time on their hands. Everything was his oyster. As he walked away from the Devon Corporation's Research and Development Division towards his new car, he turned to look at the building.

They would be revealing new technology soon. Technology that he helped develop.

Their stock prices would skyrocket. If he invested now... Howard smiled to himself. How many artifacts could he preserve? How many expeditions could he fund? He could get assistants, aides, and more to help him learn about the world. They could preserve so much history.

He didn't need to rely on anyone else. He would forge his own path forward. He reached out a hand towards the evening sky. It was so pristine and clear.

4. Aspirations

Archaeology is the study of history and prehistory through the excavation of sites and the analysis and preservation of artifacts and other physical remains through conservative means.

He received his degree with remarkable ease. The youngest double master's degree in the history of Rustboro City University. Anthropology and Geology. He looked on with pride as he received his diploma. He laughed with his classmates as they threw their graduation caps into the air, tassels swinging wildly.

It was the greatest day of his life.

His finances grew. He invested in a slew of businesses, once Devon Corporation's stock prices spiked. He had once dreamed of being rich, and had studied economics. On top of that, he had a knack for knowing what to invest in. His portfolio only grew and his pockets only grew deeper.

He would travel to Unova, to Sinnoh, to Galar, to Paldea. He would travel the known world, never wanting for money. He would never travel alone. Never suffer alone. Never learn alone. After thinking about it, Howard realized something as he stood in his penthouse, already growing cramped with artifacts he had bought at auction.

"I need nothing." He scratched his chin in wonder. His aspirations were finally unchained. "There is nothing holding me back from exploring forever."

He laughed in delight. Then he stopped. He looked around the apartment with amusement for a second, though it quickly soured. Wasn't there someone he was supposed to enjoy this with? These endless possibilities? He scratched his chin again, irritated. He reached for his belt, as if grabbing a Pokeball.

He grasped nothing but air.

What am I doing? Howard thought to himself. I don't own any Pokemon.

Abandoning the thought, he went to sleep alone.

5. Family

Archaeology is the study of history and prehistory through the excavation of sites and the analysis and preservation of artifacts and other physical remains through conservative means.

"Those fuckers."

"Honey!"

"What, it's true!"

"Dad, it's fine." Howard pointed his fork. "No, no. It's fine,"

His parents were at the apex of Rustboro City's classes. His mom, with her jewelry store and expertise on gems, and his father with his connections to Devon Corporation as a high level researcher. They had enough money to send Howard to college a dozen times over, but he had staunchly refused.

The notion of getting through university without doing so himself was a sickening prospect. He would not become someone who got through on sheer luck. He would do what he did alone. Howard didn't hate his parents—he loved them—but that did not mean he had to tail behind them. He had to leave the nest, eventually. He had learned a lot from them, but he would not be encompassed by them.

That wouldn't stop him from coming home to have dinner made by his mom every now and then.

"It's not fine." Mr. Slayte scowled as he crossed his arms. "You've graduated, Howard. Those scholarships you have are going to evaporate. I can't believe they let you go! They were trying to fill that position for months!"

"That's how it goes. These things happen. I'll get another position." Howard placated his father. "I'll bounce back." He tried for a winning smile.

Yet his father was a sharp man. He had a long and illustrious career in fossil restoration technology. It was thanks to him that Howard had even gotten that internship with Devon Corporation to begin with. True, Howard's work was excellent, but was it excellent enough for him to have gotten the job without his father's help?

Howard didn't want to know.

"Maybe so, but I know for a fact that they'll just snatch up another grad student to underpay. That company has enough money to keep you on as a consultant, but why do that when they'd have to pay you more? Those assholes, they only care about the money and the achievements, forget the people who make it happen. They've never cared about the knowledge."

"Now, honey, listen." Mrs. Slayte spoke softly, smiling at him. "If you need money—"

"No. I've got savings. I'll be fine for a couple months." Howard took a sip of water. 50 million PD's worth, he thought silently. It was more than that, now. It was silently growing with investments.

"I see." His mother's eyes glimmered with concern. "Well, if you ever need money..."

"Mom."

"Or a job..."

"Mom..."

"Or a place to stay..." She continued, ignoring him. "You're welcome here. Right, honey?" She nudged Howard's father, who thoughtfully nodded.

"Yes, absolutely. If your archaeology ever falls through, we can get you a position in a lot of places. Two degrees are a lot."

Howard nodded dutifully, though he suspected that his father had implied that two useful degrees were a lot."I have a possible dig coming up. In Fiore." He added as an afterthought. "Their crystal growth formations are something I want to research. Maybe you can make a jewelry line out of some, mom. I'll bring you a few back."

That trip to Fiore, that he was taking with a few aides using that investment money.

"Oooh, that'd be splendid. I'll make sure to make a special piece for you." She clapped happily.

"Me, why?" Howard frowned and cocked his head.

"So you can give one to that girlfriend you have! Are you still dating that one from crystallography? I liked her! Right?" His mom tapped his father's shoulder, who nodded.

"Yes, I liked him."

Howard spat out his drink.

"MOM!"

Dinner continued. Howard left for Fiore the next day.

6.

Archaeology is the study of history and prehistory through the excavation of sites and the analysis and preservation of artifacts and other physical remains through conservative means. It is the preservation of the past.

Howard traveled the world, visiting every region under the sun. Fiore. Almia. Oblivia. Orre. Kanto. Johto. Hoenn. Sinnoh. Unova. Kalos. Alola. Galar. Paldea. He explored ruins in all of these locations, for the simple fact that he could. There was simply too much to explore. Too much to comprehend. Too much to understand. So he simply send out aides to do it for him.

His finances grew. Devon Corporation revealed their new technology, and Howard's investment in their stocks caused his wealth to skyrocket.

Yet he told nobody.

He found his way into a black market while in Unova. Valuable paintings, historical artifacts, and more were being sold to the highest bidder. His heart ached. What would happen if these artifacts found their way into the wrong hands? Those people wouldn't be able to appreciate them.

But he would. So he bought them all. It felt right. He was doing a good thing. He was preserving history. Yet nobody saw it.

"Which is why, my friends..." Howard's eyes widened as he turned towards his aides as he put a hand into his suit pocket. "We're going to start a museum to preserve history! That's what archaeology is about!"

Yes, this was right. Preserve history for those who would appreciate it. They would discover history, and preserve it. Nobody who simply threw money around would understand their value.

7. Recreation


Archaeology is the study of history and prehistory through the excavation of sites and the analysis and preservation of artifacts and other physical remains through conservative means. It is the preservation of the past.

"Haha, yes! It's perfect! Splendid!" Howard clapped, grinning ear to ear as he and his aides stood inside a large building situated in Mauville City. Glass cases, rope guides, and plush carpets decorated the new Mauville Museum for Ancient History, bought and paid for by Howard Slayte. It did not require any external funding from Hoenn to maintain operations, since Howard himself was constantly making money.

Such a thing was only possible now because Howard was constantly keeping an eye on his investments and businesses. He couldn't afford to go on digs anymore. Time was expensive, and he was running out of it. That didn't matter, though. He had aides to do the work for him. Aides who could dig, excavate, and secure valuable artifacts from ruins across the world.

Howard, meanwhile, would silently buy up anything that came to auction.

This was something that could only happen because of his immense wealth, born of chance and fostered by clever investment. Howard had earned this. He had earned this. He clapped delightfully.

"Is our launch prepared for the weekend?" He turned to the assistant curator. "We have a lot of expectation going into the launch. It must be perfect."

"Yes, Mr. Slayte." He nodded.

"Excellent. I'm very pleased to work with all of you. You've made my dream come to life." Howard smiled. "You will be receiving bonuses."

Several murmured celebrations and fist pumps were held. Howard put his hand on his hip as he looked around. He was a curator. A curator. This was a dream come true. This was something he had played at for a very long time. He had imagined running his own museum from the time he was young.

He had recreated his dream.

8. Reminiscence

Archaeology is the study of history and prehistory through the excavation of sites.

Years passed. The museum grew in size and scope as Howard's investments grew as well. As the money required to gather more and more artifacts increased, Howard had to focus on generating as much money as possible to support it. As he sat in his office, going over stocks, assets, and other, dubious things, he began to stare at a photo of his parents on his desk.

He hadn't called them in years. He hadn't met with anyone from his past in a long time, now that he thought about it.

Why was that?

He was now the most successful person in his graduating year, and his assets were considerable. Did he even need anyone anymore? Yes, he did. A foolish question. He preserved artifacts, he preserved the past. What were the people who shaped him into who he was now but part of that past as well? Were they not artifacts to be preserved in the bosom of history?

Yes, of course.

He stood back from his desk and looked over the Hoenn skyline, eyes narrowed as he looked over Lilycove. What was putting him in this nostalgic mood? He was entering his forties, soon. He straightened his tie. He had once loathed suits, finding them only fit for elite snobs. How the tables had turned.

Yet he wasn't a snob. He was an artist. A guardian of the past. A member of preserved history.

In order to preserve it, he would have to revisit it. He sat down at his desk and made a call.

"Connect me to an address in Rustboro. The number is..." Howard said a string of numbers that felt dusty on his tongue, before smiling. "Yes, them. Tell my parents that I'd like to visit them, if they're willing."

Click. The phoneline cut off. Howard returned to his computer and clicked away from his business charts. Instead, he pulled up a mural. When was the last time he had looked at one of those? He scrolled through it, unfamiliar with what it was representing. He scrolled past it, before ending on a blurry photo of something.

A bowl, perhaps? Howard's eyes narrowed.

No.

A vessel.

9. Reunion

Archaeology is the preservation of history and prehistory.

"Ohhhh, we missed you so much! My little Howie!" His mom kissed him on both cheeks and hugged him, and Howard hugged her back. Stiff awkward, but content. They had both aged since his last meeting with them. His father watched him from the door, arms crossed. His face was passive, but Howard couldn't help but suspect that his father was upset.

Why would he be upset? His son was visiting.

"You've risen so far, our little star! We've tried so hard to see you at the museum, but you're never there when we visit." His mother said, leading him into the living room. Howard took a seat on a recliner, and his parents sat on the couch. "We've tried calling, but we can never reach you!"

"What? That's unacceptable!" Howard clenched a fist and crossed his legs. "I'll get you a direct line, mom. You too, dad. Maybe you both can come in and review some exhibits we're putting up? I've got one with gemstones that I think mom would like, and I know you'll enjoy the fossils we have." He told his dad.

"They're quite good." His father nodded slowly, and his mom agreed with a furious nod.

"We'd love to, Howard! I'd love for the museum to sponsor Starry Night!" She gushed. Howard felt a twinge of annoyance. Sponsor? More money that he'd have to spend on things that weren't archaeology. Did they think he was made of money or something? They hadn't given him anything, but now that he was popular, it was fine to mooch off him?

He would've been swimming in debt if it weren't for that lottery ticket.

"I'll ask around. We might be able to make it work."

---

After chatting for a few hours, Howard waved goodbye and stepped out of the door. His limousine was waiting, and immediately started up as he walked down the driveway. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him.

"Hey, HOWARD!"

His father's voice.

He turned.

"Yes? What's wrong, dad?" Howard frowned, recognizing the angry expression he thought he saw earlier. So it wasn't an illusion. Even if he hadn't used his expert eye in years, that skill wasn't so easily rusted. "You're angry."

"You're right." His father walked closer. "Thanks for visiting, all these years later. I'm glad you remembered us."

So that's what this was about.

"I'm a busy man. Howard began, hands on his hip. "I couldn't afford to-"

"-to let go of an entire team of Almian archaeologists? Was that before or after you invested millions into Devon Corp?" His dad frowned, putting his hand on his hips. He saw the look of surprise on Howard's face. "Oh, you think I don't read the news? Or have critical thinking? I raised you."

"I didn't think you were so interested in my career." Howard blinked in surprise. "I'm surprised."

"I'm surprised. You never used to be so sloppy about covering your tracks. You made quite the paper trail on how you paid for your schooling, making us think you were in a little bit of debt. You were in deeper than that. You never would've had an issue keeping this secret back when you were in college. Idiot. You've replaced sense with money."

What was the point of this? Why was his father attempting to push him so hard? Demean him? He had done nothing wrong. "I didn't need those researchers anymore. They were interns, hired so they could get experience in the field. They should be thanking me."

His father stopped and stared at him. He opened his mouth multiple times, looking completely shocked. He got up close and pointed a finger at him. "An intern, like you were? Did you feel thankful when you were dropped? How did that experience help you?"

"It helped me. Look where I am now." Howard shrugged. "They'll find a way.

"Find a way?" His father echoed, and shook his head in disbelief. "I remember when you would come home and complain about the wealthy who simply bought up expensive art for the sake of owning it. Do you remember what you told us, back then?

"That they didn't understand it."

"I pity you, son." His father put his hand on his son's shoulder. "You'll forever deceive yourself with a lie like this, then? It wasn't like this, once. How can you have two eyes but not see what you're missing?"

What did that mean? What lie? What was he missing? He had everything he could ever want. Money, artifacts, authority. He didn't need anything else much. He reached for his belt instinctively, and passed through nothing. He had never owned a Pokemon. Why did he keep doing that?

"It doesn't matter." Howard stared at his father and tapped his own temple. "You're important to me, a piece of history that I want to preserve."

"You'll preserve it, then. With your mind and money, Howard, you'll likely want for nothing again. You've become the people you once despised working for. The rich and elite who claim to understand the field from which they know little. Money cannot fill that void. If you want to preserve everything, you'll go to war with the world itself, until you find a way to preserve that too. Don't you get it, son? All you do is buy and buy and put things into your museum. Do you even know every object under your roof, or is the fact that it once had cultural significance all you care about?"

Howard turned away and kept walking towards the car. He opened the door. "You're saying I'll succeed?

The voice kept ringing in his head.

"Yes. You are the best and worst of humanity's instincts. There is no way that you cannot preserve every object of value. When you collect everything, what will you do?

The car drove away. The voice winked out. The answer? Howard didn't know.

10.

Archaeology is preservation.

There is no need to talk about the obvious outcome. Howard Slayte will obtain every artifact on earth, and preserve them, unchanging, unaware that he has already forgotten what it was like to understand each one.

Eventually, his very passion will turn to stone.