"Touché, but how do you sell a Dragonite skeleton? Any good museum is going to check a register to see if it was stolen, anyways. GIDEON GRAVES is a lot of things, but he's not stupid. He knows when something is stolen!"

A redundant question. Howard knew the most about selling illegally excavated fossils, especially when compared to anyone in Hoenn. The only other person who could compare was Remiel Calcifet, and the ex-Admin was no longer attempting to sell to criminals. That meant that Howard was the only one in the game, thankfully.

But Eris didn't need to know that.

"It's an iconic piece. The Nacrene Museum in Unova has a complete skeleton. Other museums replicate them. It lets us date how far back Dragonites were flying about, which then lets us confirm if the theory about Dragonites fighting Aerodactyls is corr-"

Aaaand he was monologuing again. As Howard reached down and inspected the skull, his eye gleamed slightly. Maybe it was best to let the archaeologist tire himself out by talking so much.

---

Eris Halla

"Yeah, they are cool! I knew you'd get it, little lady!"

Oh, how did Howard explain the world of illegal smuggling to Eris? The wonderful world of bootlegging, drug dealing, and other wonderful hustles that got you a life sentence in Hoenn's overflowing prison-industrial complex. If he wanted to explain that to Eris, he'd need to start back with the Industrial Revolution. Again.

Hoenn was not ready for such a speech.

"There are people who are superfans of rare items, who value historical artifacts for either the prestiege they bring, or because owning them makes the owner exclusive. Put frankly, they're idiots." Howard frowned. "Unfortunately, Eris, they're also rich idiots."

Before Eris was even born, and when Howard was a teenager, a full Dragonite fossil had sold for about seventy-one MILLION PD at auction.

"Well, I'll date how deteriorated the carbon is in the fossils. I'll reference it with living specimens, use Light Screen and whatnot to date... It's a complicated thingamajig. I think they have an exhibit on it at the National Museum of Natural History. I think GIDEON GRAVES gave a tour on it, once."

---

Eris Halla

"I'm not a rich idiot!" Leave it to a kid to call out a brutal truth without softening the blow. Howard now knew what Eris—and all children's—purpose was in life: to tell the truth and make Howard's life miserable.

"A rich idiot," he waved a finger as he lectured Eris, "doesn't appreciate what he buys. He simply buys it because he believes it to be valuable. If I sold you this clump of dirt for 20,000 PD, and told you that everyone thought it was worth that much, and then you bought it, you'd be a rich idiot. You don't know why you're buying something, other than that it's valuable."

Howard put his hand on his chest, and took a bow.

"I simply ensure that people who value rare items go to people who can appreciate them. Whether that person is Declan Walsh, Gideon Graves, or anywhere in between... It simply helps if they have money to spare."

Yeggo waffles filled the silence with delectable crispness. Howard looked down at Eris and deflated slightly. It had been his plans, but now?

"Would I bring you along if that was my plan?" He asked her. "What would the point be, besides making you sad?"

---

Eris Halla

"Yeah, I would." The words are cold, like the snow the two had trudged through. Their moment on that island felt like a distant memory. Howard had been promoted, since then. He had seen a primordial shard of the world wage war against him. He had stared down a Hyper Beam that would've killed him.

Yet instead of running away, he ran towards it. Towards death. Towards Shred Zeppelin.

What was happening to him.

"But I'd do it like a coward. Like a rat. I'd tell you that I would do something, then turn around and do the other." The confession is brutal and honest, yet Howard was fine with uttering it. With Eris, it feels like a crime to lie. Yet it was also a fundamental rule. Howard Slayte would not lie, because he was a historian.

He swore to tell the truth.

"Let me make a call." Howard sighed and walked off. A few minutes later, Howard returned. "I'll find a museum."

---

Eris Halla

"Because I don't view it as the truth, little lady. I view it as fact." The two seemed similar, but they weren't the same. There was a truth that was universal to humanity, but few would ever learn it. Howard placed value on both, on a accurate historical account of the world.

Yet he could not contribute to that account. He was simply a historian, observing the actions of greater people. Plus, Eris Halla was wrong. Howard Slayte was a liar, and he was a coward. If he wasn't one, he wouldn't be in Rocket. He would've accepted her offer on that island. He would've been free.

Yet he was more trapped than ever.

"Little lady, what're you-" She hugged him. "-doing...?"

This felt wrong. He didn't deserve this. He made sure to betray nothing on his face. His lip didn't tremble, and his eye didn't shake. Instead, he simply hugged her back. A moment of affection was a beacon in a harbor of observation.

"You're right, I can. Let's go home." Howard squeezed her hand, then gestured towards the fossils. "Help me gather them? I'm getting old, y'know? My knees aren't doing too well."

He smiled wryly, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"If only I had a reliable little helper..."

---

Eris Halla

"You think Isaac would?" Howard scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Ask him for me, will you?"

He gives Eris a slight push, letting her lead the way. He trails behind her with several fossils in tow. He gives a whistle in the clean winter air as Eris leads the way.

What expression was on her face?

He considered calling out for her, in order to make her turn around. Maybe this was a question that he could leave unanswered. He'd let the lie live for a little while longer. It wasn't even the biggest lie he had told.

He felt his pocket, where a phone lie dormant. It was the same phone that he had called a museum with, in order to let Eris smile. He fingered the power button on the phone, before pressing it.

No beep rang out. The phone was dead. It had been for several hours.

I'm sorry. Howard Slayte thought as he followed Eris Halla through the snow.

---

Eris Halla