Occasionally, he wondered if 'Mr. Fox' was a good name for his colleague to utter. 'Admin Fox' was more appropriate, but distant. 'Mr. Slayte' was too obvious. 'Mr. Fox', meanwhile, had the tendency to cause fits of laughter in whoever heard it.

Howard couldn't blame anyway who laughed. He was on the verge of another laughing fit himself. How long had they been on the trail of Regirock?

"This is the academic process. Do not lose faith." His voice was a quiet whisper as he pointed it out to Grigori. Successes were rare in this line of work, especially when dealing with something as fickle as an ancient golem like Regirock. He was hoping that with an incorporation of a piece of itself, it would have a better sense of direction.

Instead, it had seemingly vanished. Tracks a mile long gave way to nothing but men and monsters.

"Likely. It matches with Head Scientist Sato's description of the DRK Triad." Howard liked Naomi Sato, but he did not place much weight in the DRK Triad. Very rarely did multiversal threats draw his attention, with Hoenn under fire from more present threads like Tera Crystals and Eternatus.

His eye flicked around the cave. The tracks led directly into the light and through the presumable encampment. Great.

"We'll have to retreat and go around. We don't have the manpower to deal with this."

---

Grigori Sokolov

The academic process had its place, Grigori had no doubt. Yet it could stand to be a little more informed when it came to the field. A field infested with paradoxical beasts, enemies that’d kill them on sight, and a shadowy organization that’d kill them on sight. A concession or three would be nice right now. It’d let him sleep easier as well.

Instead, he had to duck low and keep his voice lower. How does one go around an encampment made in the bowels of the earth? Perhaps Howard knew something he didn't, about the layout of these caves. Knowing him, it was entirely realistic. He'd been through Arceus knew how many temples and relics of the past.

The footsteps were numerous, but there looked to be a lot of overlap between the individual imprints. Which made it hard to tell exactly how many there were… but his gut knew the answer.

“We can do as you suggest, but I think there aren't many at this particular setup,” he whispered. “If I had to guess… less than ten? Smaller one. Theoretically, we could take them on.”

Science couldn’t explain a gut feeling, yet it was rarely wrong. It was the only time he disregarded any facts or logic that would otherwise distract him. But he’d listen to Howard anyway, as he was both his boss and the leader of this journey. Loyalty remained, even if personal dislikes clung to him like dirt on the soles of his boots.

So, he started to lead the way back, eager to be done with this expedition. Except there was one major, critical flaw: he didn’t do it slowly. Instead, he ate a face-full of cave rock. The impact disrupted his balance, and he started to fall. Desperate hands tried for any rocky outcrops, but his fingers slipped past each one. And then–

THUD!

His head throbbed, as too did his shoulders. He groaned softly, but quickly stopped when he realized what happened. That ‘movement head’ suddenly didn’t sound so ahead. “Oh no.”

“Mr. Fox, quickly!” He rushed himself off the ground and grabbed ahold of Howard’s arm. And then he started to run.

---

howard slayte

"Two on ten? That's five for each of us!" More accurately, it would be nine for Grigori, one for Howard, and that was if Grigori slowed him down first. It was a monumental task for both men, and it'd likely end in abject misery.

Howard gave Grigori a look, and hated what he saw.

"Shit. You're actually serious?" He hated when Grigori was like this. The two worked closely but the older grunt was so stoic that Howard didn't know if he was about to laugh, cry, or punch his teeth in. Grigori always struck him as mild-mannered, but that was before he kicked Howard's door in.

Luckily it didn't matter, because Grigori actively followed Howard's orders. The two turned away, and Howard breathed a sigh of relief.

Then Grigori tripped. The sound of his body hitting stone rang through Area Zero for at least a mile. Howard let out an exhale and prepared to cuss the man out. He didn't get the chance, as Grigori dragged him away from the base.

"Fuck! Grigori! They're gaining on us!" Howard shouted as he wormed his way out of Grigori's grasp. As they ran together, they found a slew of DRK Triad members in front of them, using their Unown to warp space.

They were surrounded.

"Fuck." The DRK Triad members pointed at him and whispered in hushed tongues. The word 'candidate' was muttered. Without blinking, the Unown fired off their Hidden Powers at Howard. "FUUUUUUUCK!"

---

Grigori Sokolov

Grigori was hopelessly lost. Maybe that’s why the DRK Triad were able to surround them without much effort. He stopped as soon as he saw them and instinctively reached down to his belt. But he did not try to escalate the situation.

Instead, he looked. Watched. Eyed the competition. They all looked relatively built, only one or two were close to his level. The rest just looked fit– Howard would surely be capable of taking on a few of the smaller ones. He needed to believe in himself more.

“Do not fret, Mr. Fox, for I–”

That’s when the Unown, those letters from another plane, attacked. Their Hidden Powers flew, but Grigori was one step faster. His selected Poke ball hit the ground and released a massive dragon. The Druddigon roared and moved to one side of the archeologist. It soaked up the hits with little issue.

On the other side, Grigori gripped the man by his side and yanked him out of the way with surprising force. While the attacks missed him by mere millimeters, they did miss.

“Mr. Fox, please stay out of the way!” He let the man continue onward, off to the side. The grunt then pulled something off of his belt– a hammer. Howard would know it well if he remembered the ill-fated search party. It was the tool the dead Megalopolan had by his side, in front of the alien bowl.

“Brick, please distract the Pokémon!”

“Drud!” He whipped his Dragon Tail back and brought it forward with extreme strength. Bits of rock from the wall flew like rubber bullets into the Unown. Most of them were blinded by dirt, dust, and natural shrapnel, and the humans didn’t appreciate it either. The small group in front of them recoiled back, thrown off their rhythm.

Thus, it was all too easy for Grigori to run forward, faster than a man his age should’ve been, and raise the hammer. Wordlessly, it crashed down on the skull of the first gang member. Blood exploded from the point of impact, all over his face. The fresh corpse folded and fell to the ground like a pound of bricks. “One.”

---

howard slayte

"On-" Howard's voice faded as he saw the DRK Triad grunt on the floor with their skull caved in. Bits of pink and red pooled together in harmony. Nothing vouched for the sanctity of life like the violation of death. Grigori could've used the grunt's skull for a drinking cup if he wished.

"Holy shit." He forgot how strong Grigori was, sometimes.

The shrapnel from Grigori's Druddigon caused the Unown and grunt targeting Howard to grow blinded. In that moment, Howard wondered how Naomi Sato and her Unown handled dust. Did they just keep their eyes closed all the time?

Still, he supposed this one was 'slowed down'. He plucked a Gigaton Ball from his belt, repaired thanks to Aurelie Lefevre. Gears whirred, springs contracted and extended, and steam hissed. The ball opened, and Doug emerged with a ferocious roar.

The hammer and the bear, back together again. Time was a circle, after all.

The bear lumbered forward, using its innate power to release a Blood Moon. A harsh red light placed everything into contrast, serving only to make Grigori look even more monstrous. The Unown and its master dissolved into particles as the strike landed, turning them into ash.

Three more grunts ran towards Howard, and the admin instinctively ran towards Doug.

---

Grigori Sokolov

Grigori watched a second DRK Triad member become little more than dust. Returned to the earth from whence they came. “Two.”

The bear was back. Doug. Fate worked in strange, ironic ways, and the situation did not rise above his head. But he did not have time to dwell on it as the other members came back from their senses. They were, understandably, upset with the grunt.

One pulled a knife and tried to gut him like a fish. Grigori grabbed their arm and twisted sharply. It cracked under the pressure, and they screamed in agony. He threw them into the next member that rushed over, and threw his fist straight into the fourth one’s face. They flew back into the cavern wall, and made it all too easy to–

“Three.” The hammer swung true again. The other two composed themselves enough to charge with growls in their throats. The first stabbed a knife towards his chest. Metal met fingers, and the knife flew off towards Howard. His other fist slammed into their throat.

Another blade arced down towards his head, yet it stopped mere inches from his scalp. He struggled to hold them back as he put all his weight into the inversed tug-of-war. They pulled air through clenched teeth, gurgles in their throat as Grigori pushed it further and further away. Until the hammer rose and slammed straight into the elbow.

He took the knife and plunged it into their chest. “Four.”

Brick, meanwhile, focused more on Howard. As the three grunts ran forward, the massive, lumbering dragon did his best to put himself between the archeologist and the enemy. To help out, he lunged forward and launched his Superpowered claws into their path. “Druddigon! Drud!”

He covered his face as another round of attacks flew from the Unown. Just needed to buy time for Doug. If the bear could charge up another Blood Moon, then they’d surely be fine.

---

howard slayte

Men died. They died so that other men could live.

That was the cycle of life. It was why humanity could never fully unify. In a sense, it reminded him of why there were kingdoms and regions and countries, rather than one unified front. There would always be dissenting opinions that formed different groups. Groups within groups, spirals within spirals.

That was human nature. It was vile and evil and true and genuine. If the truth was good, than man's most base forms were as well.

Yet that did not give another universe the right to infringe upon this one. Was the multiverse just a greater spectrum of the existing world? Instead of billions of lives, all fighting for different ideas, was it trillions? Infinite?

Splatter. Howard used a pivot he had learned from jayden cross to dodge a DRK Triad blade. After skirting to the left, he kicked the man in the leg so that he fell into Brick's swinging claws. Red mist spread across the battlefield like an ominous curse.

I did not kill him. That was not me. He justified his battle as he fought. Doug, meanwhile, recovered from his Blood Moon. After several moments, the bear charged its internal power, before letting off another scorching ray of lunar might. There was only ash when the attack ended.

Ash, and one more grunt. How many had Grigori killed? Howard lost track of time.

"Throw down your weapon! You've lost!" The admin shouted. The otherworldly foe stared at them both for a moment, before readying his knife. He swung his knife in a flash of steel...

...and slit his own throat.

The man fell in a heap, dead.

---

Grigori Sokolov

As Brick obliterated the DRK Triad member that Howard tripped, Grigori fought his own battle. There was one more on his end and the most capable of them all. That’s why they circle-strafted each other, around and around in a circle. The clock ticked, and the hands danced across its surface.

They locked eyes, both certain of the only way this could end– one dead, one alive. Neither acknowledged how Doug incinerated another of the group, how Druddigon turned one into a fine red paste, or how the final one took his own life. That would require a diversion of focus.

And that was immediate death.

The other one, slightly shorter than Grigori, feinted a knife swing. Grigori batted it away with his hammer, careful to keep his actions minimized. The member twirled their knife back and forth between their fingers, a show of skill and uncertainty. Normal grip was easier to deal with but could lead to brute force attempts. Reverse grip was more immediate slashing power yet left Grigori more chance to succeed.

Ultimately, the DRK Triad member settled on a reverse grip and stepped forward. Suddenly, without warning. The dancer stepped off the track and sought autonomy, for it was unwise to remain static.

Unfortunately, Grigori punished the aggression to deadly effect. The first swipe cut his leather gauntlets deeply, and the second scored his flesh. The third sought to dig into his ribs, around his arm. Risky, and it let Grigori push his hammer straight into the other one’s nose.

“Graa!” Steel missed flesh by centimeters, and Grigori dashed around the man. His hammer clattered to the ground with an obnoxiously loud thud, and he wrapped his hands around the other's head. It left him in the perfect place to be knifed, and the blade rose to do so.

Their neck twisted unnaturally before it could become reality. And just like that, they too hit the ground. Alongside the rest of their group, corpses and dust all.

Grigori let go of the breath he unconsciously held, and gulped air like a drowning man water. It was over. They were safe. Howard was safe.

“Five,” he muttered. His arm wiped the red sweat from his brow, and left him as red as the Blood Moon Howard’s Pokémon conjured. “May your souls find peace.”

If only his could as well. “Mr. Fox, are you alright?”

---

howard slayte

Physically? Yes. Mentally? No.

The admin was not fine. Admin Fox was not fine. Howard Slayte was not fine. He was stained red with the blood of twenty men. He looked at his shaking hands, shocked. After a moment, he looked around. He nudged a corpse with his foot. Naturally, it did not move. It would never move again, in this universe or another.

Gone. Reduced to a mere footnote on the grand tapestry of history.

"You did all of this?" Howard's voice was awestruck. The bodied lay splayed on the floor. It reminded the admin of jayden cross or bryan delarosa . Wherever they went, ash and fire followed. Blood. "You're..."

A monster. Grigori was a monster forged in Kanto and Johto.

"I see." The mask slipped on as Howard wiped his forehead. Grigori had taken all of the karma from this skirmish into himself. Howard had killed nobody. His Ursaluna had. Grigori had. They could carry that load, and Howard would move forward as clean as an unborn child.

Sinless. Pure.

"You could be beast." Flick. A fire flickered as Howard lit a cigarette. He offered one to Grigori to distract the grunt from Howard's fears. "You're better than most of them."

---

Grigori Sokolov

The grunt waved off the cigarette. He’d given them up again, shortly after the incident in Howard’s apartment. After the incident behind the Poke Mart. Besides, he deserved whatever stress due from this fight. Slaughter.

“If it were merely about the quantity and quality of the violence, I would be in charge of Team Rocket,” he said. “Alas, they seek more… fanatical minds, for that position.”

Howard’s hands shook like leaves in the breeze. Gentle, easily disturbed by any outside phenomenon. These were not good people; they sought to slaughter him just because of his ownership of Regice. All the reports painted them in a dark light too. Yet his hands shook all the same.

Grigori looked to his own. Perfectly still, unfazed by wind or bloodshed or the copious amounts of red and pink and white on them. Like rocks anchored to the earth. He pressed his lips and exhaled deeply from his nose. He was fine, and that bothered him. But in the way of a casual observation, rather than an actual profound discovery.

The other beasts would’ve reprimanded Howard for his slight show of weakness. Save Shred, who might’ve made several crude jokes, taken two cigarettes, and kicked the corpses as they continued on. Grigori?

He wondered if it was possible to lose his desensitization to such easy murder.  After several long moments, his hands fell back in line and he recalled Brick. “I am indeed a monster, Howard.”

There were not many ways to finish the admin’s sentence, given the context. And he knew the best answer from personal experience.

“But I am far from the best. I pray you never bear witness.”

---

howard slayte