declan walsh's world was not a dream. It was a nightmare.

It was a nightmare that Navy would never fully understand. The chill of waking up in the middle of the night and seeing a shadow on the wall, hoping and praying that the face of Rocket's leader never appeared in the inky darkness was burned into the admin's psyche. He did not cry in Sootopolis, lest Walsh see his weakness and use it for his goals.

It was humiliating to be an adult and hide under the covers, as if that would stop Darkrai and Walsh from violating Howard within the comforts of his own home.

Twenty years of a dream. One year of a nightmare. There was no distinction in the eyes of mortals. An insignificant blip of time in the annals of history's great tapestry. One stand out of millions, weaving together to create the struggle of humanity.

"Don't speak to me of hard choices. Who worked himself to the brink of death when Kyle died? Who left a little girl in charge of Dewford?" Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki led the Dewford Gym now, and the decision baffled the admin to this day. After she fused with a demon, Navy had placed her in charge while he hunted ghosts.

The Pale Rider until the end.

"How could you do that? You promised to pick up your sword and fight..." Vortigern raged down in the form of a black meteor. "You let it rust. You let it whittle away while others fight for you."

A flash of light emerged at the admin's side, though he didn't notice it amidst the storm. Mist rolled in and crystals glimmered. Memories flashed in the admin's mind. In the mist, he saw a silhouette of a man.

SPOILER: Click to show

"Did you expect me to shoulder this alone!? Too weak to do anything, too feeble to change a thing?"

Vortigern struck Regice. Ice shattered and cracked and fell inward on impact, like a ribcage caving in after a particularly strong blow. Reddish energy hissed out, ingulfing Vortigern's face and filling the dragon's mind with delirium and falsehood. The dragon's rage was limitless, but there was always room for a madness from on high.

Before the dragon could go deeper, something shot out and sank its teeth into the dragon's neck, pushing it away from the golem. As Howard recognized the figure, he let out a scream.

Navy had prayed that Howard would not bring out Shirley, unaware that the admin would never risk her life on this bloodstained hill. The Aerodactyl would die on this battlefield of gods.

That had not happened.

Shirley brought herself out.

Howard's screams were cut short by the Wishing Star falling down to earth. Galarian culture had wished upon Wishing Stars long ago as a celebratory gesture. It was a harmless notion, meant to bring joy and momentary relief to the pittances of everyday life.

This star was not that. It was a dark sun meant to paint the world red with destruction. Dynergy thrummed intensely from the glimmering shard. It was a bigger specimen than any other that Howard had seen.

Silence.

"Do you want to know why I'm down here?" Howard asked wearily as he closed the distance between himself and the Wishing Star. "Really?"

---

Michael Navidson

What is this?

Flashes of memories he couldn't have pulsed through his mind's eye, distinct yet vivid. Howard saw himself waging a war against Eternatus in a magenta sky. Ancient buildings surrounded him, ruins stretched into the horizon, and titanic Pokémon roamed in droves.

These aren't my memories.

These ruins were not the kind Howard associated himself with. These were not crumbling stones encrusted with vines, echoing remnants of people that had long since returned to the earth. The world was too large an expanse to notice the beings crawling across her skin, but life returned to her all the same.

These were the ruins of war. This was what Hoenn would become. This was Dewford's fate once Eternatus woke.

Are they?

These were not memories forgotten. They were the memories of a world that Howard had never experienced. They were fiction, steepled in enough realism to avoid correction. Howard had not been here. He did not remember this world. This was the Pale Rider's domain, the shared dream that Howard had heard of from so many.

Aurelie Lefevre. Alba Evovae. Michael Navidson.

It could be.

Dream.

Howard opened his eye.

"When the League and Rocket shattered Regice to pieces, the League claimed the Power Spot that sat within its heart." He smiled at the contradiction. The golem had no heart. None of the Legendary Giants held hearts within their breasts, for there was nothing living within the construct. "The golem in the Island Cave is not the same as the one here. It's a shade."

Shirley crawled away from Vortigern's wroth, limping weakly as she did so. She crawled around the admin's body, before wrapping around and resting on his back.

Old times.

"You're weak, but not in a way that matters on this battlefield." The cigarette fell from Howard's hand and clattered against the frozen floor. "Regice needs to return to its original form. The form from the murals that held back Eternatus needs to come back."

Howard touched the Wishing Star. It thrummed with a violent energy.

"Hoenn needs a giant. Heroes and giants."

---

Michael Navidson

"I've considered the prophecy. I do not put much stock in the future. Neither should you."

It was not a historian's duty to look forward. It was his duty to accumulate wisdom from the past and prepare the next generation for the hardships of the future. Time was flat, and the future was predestined, but the prophecy was uttered from a colossal dragon at the behest of a mocking genie.

THEO BECKETT had agreed that trusting Hoopa was a folly, but claimed that it was a folly worth pursuing. The admin disagreed, but who was he to doubt the chain of command? Only the mighty had the right to challenge the authority of the world.

"Better me than another. If Rocket wanted Regice to wage war, they would take it from me and bestow it onto another. It is a zero sum game, Navy, but it's better to trust that power to me than to Tempest Quinn ." Howard was not an Avatar. He was not chained to this golem by anything other than circumstance. Regice had been given, it could be taken away. "And we're running out of time."

Mist curled in. Dynergy choked the air.

"It's waking. It's angry." His whisper scraped at the sheriff's senses, a gentle reminder of the foe they both swore to face. "Cooperation is impossible. Even the Visionary cannot mend the bridge between Rocket and League. There is too much contempt there, and humans have a penchant for grudges."

Naomi Sato had failed. Even if she thought that declan walsh did not know of her crusade, he did. He knew everything. Rocket consisted of sacks of meat playing at the Obfuscator's game. Most people played with dice, Walsh played with people.

"Mixture. Gestation. Expansion. Conflict. Empire. Decay. Finally, invasion."

The stages of civilization, painted clear on a easel foretelling the end. An invasion from the divine. An infringement from Eternatus that would rend the skies and split the earth and boil the seas.

He picked up the Wishing Star. It was heavy. The Dynergy hissed and burned and caused the admin's vision to swim. It licked at his armor and flesh like fire. As he lifted the massive star towards the golem, Navy would see a faint smile from beneath Admin Fox's visor.

"To protect her smile, we must risk the end."

He pushed the Wishing Star into Regice's chest.

---

Michael Navidson

HYPERBOREA

LATE MAY - ULTRA DEEP SEA / DEWFORD TOWN

[player]https://file.garden/ZXZrnWMYuz15frfJ/HOENN%20MUSIC/dead%20regi%20trio.mp3[/player]

"There were once upon a time five-and twenty tin-soldiers—all brothers, as they were made out of the same old tin spoon. Their uniform was red and blue, and they shouldered their guns and looked straight in front of them."[break][break]

- "The Steadfast Tin-Soldier"

AND SO, THE REGICE GAINS A HEART: a warm, pulsing organ donated by Pendragon's skeletal ark, cradled by howard slayte's desperate hands. It settles within the ice, hissing arpeggiated sharps that syncopate with the alien-rhythm of Regice's flashing "eyes". Regice is now complete. Its body is a loaded cannon—and as the Titan thrusts forward with Eternatus' baneful influence, it DYNAMAXES with NO BAND.

As the mist thickens in this infernal, breathing carcass, the Regice carries itself as a twisted catalyst of Dynergy: an AUTHENTIC POWER SPOT of ancient ice. The Titan moves. Marches with ease and glacial strength made possible by its beating heart. With no DYNAMAX BAND, this moving monolith walks with no slowed start. After a triumphant cry and a pulse of the WISHING STAR inside it, the Regice begins to rampage.


[player]https://file.garden/ZXZrnWMYuz15frfJ/HOENN%20MUSIC/illusions%20battle.mp3[/player]
ANOTHER HOWL CLEAVES THROUGH THE FEY MIST. As The Pale Rider faces the gelid goliath, he is reminded of that fateful memory of Galar. The blighted land. Its sullied people. Around him, TERA CRYSTALS glimmer, gasping frantically at Eternatus' proxy as they illuminate the dire stage Michael Navidson stands on. Outnumbered and alone.

But this fairytale demands an even match. A fair duel. As mist weaves in thick as a weald, an honorable hound emerges, its gilded gaze matching the Regice's own.

The canine has found Michael Navidson during what may very well be Dewford's darkest hour. His darkest hour. With regal step, the ZACIAN stands beside Michael Navidson. She wields no sword. Bears no crown. But such affects are frivolous for heroic deeds and for the many battles ahead the Warrior Pokemon will story with her new champion.

IMPORTANT NOTE: FROM THIS POINT FORWARD, TEDDIE MAY CONTROL AND WRITE ZACIAN, INCLUDING PUTTING THE POKEMON IN Michael Navidson's PC.

BY THE END OF THIS THREAD, Michael Navidson WILL BECOME ZACIAN'S AVATAR.

Michael Navidson howard slayte

Your half-hearted battle against Calliope Marks is cut short.

The ground beneath your feets quakes. A biting chill begins to fill the air. You feel a sudden tension pressing against your temples. Just like you did back in the ruins underneath Route 105. As your Primeape's raging is cut short by this change of atmosphere, you turn away from the battle in front of you and look towards the hole into the Ultra Deep Sea.

It was Regice. It couldn't not be Regice. Your brow furrows. Had Howard succeeded in his mission? Had he given the giant a new beating heart? Had Team Rocket succeeded in their endeavours? It certainly seemed like it, and yet...

The voice of Naomi Sato confirms your worst fears.

Uh oh.

"Hey, lady." You address Calliope Marks, your voice a clash of casual nonchalance and growing panic. "I'm putting a pause on our little fight, yeah? Gotta check on something."

And thus, you begin to run for Granite Cave.

---

Calliope Marks