For a moment, everything is blinding. The colour of Dynamax sears your eyes until its all you can see. Your heart skips a beat as you wonder if you'll ever see again.

For better or for worse, you do.

At first it's all blurry. A sky full of a million beige stars, all of them swimming about as though it were an ocean. But as you peel yourself off the dunes and as the sand pours from your face, you realize that you've gone nowhere. You're still in the desert, covered in craters and glass and destruction as it is. As you drag yourself to your feet, you see no Registeel looming over you, and a hundred silhouettes have vanished along with it, but everything else? It's just as it was before that final flash consumed you.

As you suck down deep breath after deep breath, you make a mental note to thank Alba Evovae and priam conrad for their shield.

Yet as you stagger forth, the pain doesn't stop and the bleeding doesn't halt. Even with all of the protections put forth, the united front put together by a small army of desperate warriors, it couldn't even spare a select few from the full force of the devastation. No, even all of that effort, all the blood and sweat and tears, could only reduce the metal titan's victory from "decisive" to "pyrrhic".

And as you wander the carnage in search of anything, any reward for your efforts or purpose for your struggle, you see a familiar face begin to fall.

"Howard...?" You groan, eyes wide. "Howard. HOWARD!"

You lunge to catch the Admin. But as he collapses, so too do you. Your legs buckle and you fall to the ground, and once again, you're greeted by those million beige stars. Instead, it's oscar clayton who catches howard slayte, while you're left laying amidst a field of upturned ore and Necrozma fragments, nursing wounds on top of wounds on top of wounds.

"Fuck...!"

---

I'M WEINER!!!

Fire and molten metal seared the flesh and blackened nerves. That was fortunate. He could still feel. His body hadn't been blasted to ash. He was alive. No blessing was required to keep breathing. All Howard needed was a beating heart to pump Dynergy-infused blood throughout his body.

If he could breath, he could live. As Oscar nudged him, the admin drew breath. It didn't take long for him to start screaming. It hurt to live. It hurt to exist. IT HURT. IT HURT. IT HURT. IT HURT.

Yet if existing was misery, then Howard would keep marching forward.

I deserve this.

In a red haze, the same body was atomized by a misdirected Hyper Beam a thousand different times. Shred died over and over. He had persisted in spite of Regice's blow, but something was missing. He lacked something, and Howard didn't know what it was or how to fix it.

Maybe it couldn't be fixed.

Maybe this was his punishment. No matter what, one thing was undeniable: this was deserved.

Eventually, the admin's screams dull to a low moan, dull and quiet. Surrounded by shards of the Black Knight and minerals from eras long forgotten, Howard's moans eventually faded as he subscribed to the pain. Eventually, the molten metal cooled, whether due to Regice's Pokeball or the passage of time, Howard couldn't know.

He could barely think.

His eye opened to Oscar's face. Four words left Howard's mouth, silent and raw.

"I should have died." With strength that didn't exist, Howard sat up, molten metal creaking as he looked around the dust and glass and sand. The ruins in the sand called to him. They demanded his attention. The historian in him could not leave them alone. "But I didn't."

An armored hand gestured towards Shred.

"Grab him. We're taking him with us." A rattling breath followed. "We leave nobody behind."

But what of the dozens of Rockets they had sacrificed to reach this point?

He rose, his legs trembling and shaking, swaying in the desert chamsin. The ruins below demanded their immediate attention. The destruction of Dewford, the walk through a falsified Galar, the return of Registeel...

There had to be a meaning to this struggle.

"Come." Howard staggered forward past the field of metal towards Hoenn's mausoleum. "Our world's legacy awaits."

The ruins rose as he approached them, threatening to swallow him whole.

---

Shred oscar clayton

Oscar fell back as Howard began to scream. The scientist froze, rigidly staring as someone he had never seen struggle unleashed every bit of pain he felt in a timbre thought to be unattainable by human lungs. Oscar found himself--ill-equipped to handle such a agonized vocalization, and simply remained fearfully frozen until Howard's scream died down.

As Howard spoke and sat up, Oscar would finally breathe with relief. He chuckled as his stress left his body, "We don't have time to die. Still got shit to do." Oscar looked back as Howard pointed out Shred, who had managed to sneak up behind Oscar without him noticing. Shred looked--pretty normal. I mean he looked like shit but he usually looked like shit because of the--you know, full body burns. Point is, Oscar was relieved that he too was alright.

Howard had gotten up and was seemingly set on exploring the ruins within the pit. Normally Oscar would object since Howard looked about ready to die, but he knew that they would not get another chance to explore the ruins in such a 'fresh' state. His own greed further spurned on his desire to delve into the unknown, picking up as many of his discarded gems as he could before following Howard. He offered his help to both of his human companions, should they desire it. "My shoulders are available to lean on if you need the support. Just try not to lean onto my neck, the burn is still tender."

There was already someone within the ruins by the time they approached the apparent entry, someone Oscar did not recognize. He would let the more knowledgeable Howard and Shred pass judgement first before making any moves against them though. Babayaga followed behind the humans, none too pleased to be pressing forward despite everything that had just occurred. Could they not rest for even a moment?

howard slayte Shred lam logan onyx straub

Keep stepping forward. Keep reaching for the remnants of your species and the legacy that was left behind.

Even if humanity's bodies are brittle and easily broken, keep marching forward to preserve the fragile nature. Even if they're shortsighted and foolish, caress that flaw and prepare for tomorrow. Even if they are violent and brutal, stitch them back together through blood and unity.

A laugh escaped Howard's lips, a delirious giggle as he stumbled against ancient stone. He clawed up Oscar's body in order to lean on his shoulder. Humanity was so shortsighted, yet they had created something beautiful and glorious that existed under metric tons of sand and stone.

This snapshot of the past, preserved under mountains and dunes, was proof of their capability.

Regice's Pokeball continued to rattle.

"He's a grunt." Howard grunted as they passed Onyx. He made a point to know as many of their people as possible. Nobody within Team Rocket deserved to be forgotten, least of all the nameless faces that greased the gears of war with their blood. "At ease."

They passed murals depicting the creation of an era. Statues were built in honor of gods and blessed with the divine knowledge of life. Yet a disaster had caught this place unaware, and it was left buried and forgotten.

Yet he recognized this architecture from anywhere.

"Oscar, look." He pointed at a mural of a great hand reaching down from the heavens to touch a statue. The admin left Oscar's side, staggering forward towards the mural. "What remains of our legacy."

The statue being touched and raised to godhood looked vaguely similar to Regice.

---

Shred lam logan oscar clayton onyx straub

Oscar held back a wince as Howard took to his shoulder. Thanks to the molten Sygna Suit, he was a bit heavier then expected. Nevertheless Oscar shared the load faithfully, letting Howard dictate their direction while simply helping him along. They passed by the identified grunt and continued deeper into the ruins, stopping at a mural Howard seemed to resonate with.

As Howard stepped away, Oscar looked up at the mural with disguised detachment. He was never proud of it, but his interest in history mostly stemmed from its possible monetary value. Even so, Howard's passion was infectious. Oscar could not help but smile a bit as he recognized that this was indeed humanity's history, witnessed for the first time in a millennia.

Oscar looked down the dark corridors that surrounded them. He thought about the humans that possibly walked these halls, and the amazing feats they accomplished despite their lack of modern technology. It ignited Oscar's curiosity.

"Hey, tell me about how the golems were made. You've mentioned it before but I've yet to hear the whole story."

howard slayte

Howard's lip upturned slightly, before another flicker of pain caused his eye to twitch as the expression fled his face.

Ten Oscar Claytons emerged behind the genuine article, before their faces melted off and they collapsed into ash and bone. When the admin squeezed his eye shut and opened it again, they were gone. Another hallucination. He was getting disturbingly good from sifting fiction from reality.

"Knowledge is our greatest weapon, but it can also be our demise." He spoke carefully, regarding Oscar for a spell as he turned to face the murals. "A disaster caught Hoenn unaware. It was a god that did not belong to this world."

Eternatus poisoned the land and darkened the sky and caused the world to curdle under its influence. The land had been stripped of its vigor. Humanity hid in their caves and prayed to their creations for salvation, and then they had been saved.

Until they had been sealed away, their functions abandoned until their promised time.

"They took the shards that fell from Eternatus and built gods to defend humanity. Dynergy is the power source that causes them to move. When I inserted a Wishing Star into Regice, I gave the empty vessel a heart." The admin's eye twitched again, recalling the screams as Dewford burned. That was his legacy. That was all he was permitted to recall. "And when it got that heart, it decided to destroy the world."

He gestured at the mural.

Yet what does this hand represent? Why did Registeel reveal this place? Why are these golems trying to kill us all when they should be defending us?" His fist slammed into the wall next to the mural, and dust rained from the ceiling. "There's only one thing left to do. All of this time has been spent chasing ghosts when we should be bending the unruly into submission to prepare foe Eternatus's descent."

He had spent three months in a false Galar doing that. He had prepared Regice's rise for that moment, and now that the chance had emerged with Registeel, it had slipped away.

Never again.

"I don't know what this hand is, giving life to our species' greatest triumph." He let out a baleful laugh. The Legendary Giants were humanity's. They did not belong to anyone else. They belonged to this region, and they would save it. "Oscar, the path is uncertain but the end is clear. Our species will not be crushed underfoot as we toil against threats from all sides."

Three months in Galar. A city burned. Foes encroaching from all sides.

"We will capture Registeel, and it will be mine."

---

oscar clayton

Oscar saw a lot of himself within the people of the past. They turned toward powers beyond their control, desperate to stop a threat that could crush them like the mites they were. Genesect seemed like a reflection of their efforts, although the golems seemed--purer. Instead of forcing nature to bend to their will, they worked with nature to create something more from what they already had. It was admirable in a way.

Yet such wholesome methods had no place in their day and age. The technology they had available today allowed for even greater feats of creation, to not utilize them would be foolish. Oscar kept these musings to himself though, this was Howard's moment and he did not wish to sully it with his conflicting world view. At the prospect of catching Registeel, Oscar eagerly nodded. Another golem would be a welcome addition to Howard's arsenal, and thus Rocket's.

"It is trying to hide itself so it can recover, it does not care what it reveals during its efforts to flee. We cannot let it rest." Oscar stepped toward one of the corridors. "And thus we cannot rest in return. Let's keep moving. There has to be a way to get further down."

howard slayte

"You're right, of course." The admin sighed. "You tend to be."

He wanted to collapse and curl up and let the sands claim him, but they had to keep going. He could get treatment later. He could recover later. Yet they had to push forward. They had to. This could not be for nothing. Those who had fallen demanded their immediate attention, and they also demanded that their suffering had not been in vain.

It was why Oscar Clayton surviving was ironic. The engineer had stacked thousands of corpses towards the skies in the pursuit of his goals, but even as his body began to fail, he stacked them higher to get over any obstacle that got in his way.

How much blood had he spilled?

"In a moment. I want to read this." Howard's eye narrowed as he staggered towards the stone slate. He blinked once, then twice. Years of experience in the field made the text flow in his mind. It was an ancient script similar to the one found in the Island Cave. "The Craftsman?"

His eye fell upon the hand reaching down in the mural.

Rage began to bubble up.

"FUCK!" He screamed at the slate in a fit of anger. "WHY!?"

---

oscar clayton

Oscar looked on, pondering on nothing more than what the hand represented. Oscar did not spare a second on the miracle of his own survival, as far as he knew it was chance. He simply does everything he can to continue living, and if he is successful then his choices were sound. If Howard knew how little Oscar cared about the bodies left in his wake, would he still respect him? Would he become revolted, as he was with the rest of Rocket? Hopefully Oscar never has to find out.

Oscar thought out loud as Howard examined the braille inscriptions. "I have witnessed two legendary pokemon take on the form of a hand--Eternatus and Arceus. Perhaps the image represents them." The hand did not look right though. Eternatus and Arceus appeared more like claws, this hand seemed almost normal. What did it mean?

Suddenly Howard cried out, slamming his fists against the wall while shouting. Oscar hesitated, shocked by the outburst. Eventually the distress of his friend became too much to simply ignore, pressing a hand against Howard's burnt back in an attempt to provide some form of comfort. "What's wrong? What does it say?"


Babayaga had been trailing his master, and he would be the one to notice the arrival of another. Babayaga did not know if they were friend or foe, but as he set his eyes upon the Decidueye that had saved him earlier, Baba would send a resolute nod. It would be an immense honor to fight such a warrior, but he hoped it would not come to that.

howard slayte lam logan

The Craftsman is the last resort.

Years of experience and knowledge made the translation effortless, the admin's gaze so fine that it hardly required him to feel the braille in order to translate the arcane text. When he read what his ancestors had left behind, it had filled the admin's heart with rage.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?" Howard screamed, red spittle flying from his lips. From his half-melted helmet, burn marks, and voice, he was more of a vengeful specter than a man. "WHAT CRAFTSMAN?"

The murals showed the construction of ancient weapons to fell Eternatus, and the three fingered hand gently guiding their creation and ascension. It was clear that this hand was the maker in question. Not ominous enough to be Eternatus, too primal to be a human hand. It was the hand of a master maker.

A master maker who had built statues to defend the world.

"Those statues were OUR victory! OUR legacy! OUR greatest triumph!" His screeches slurred together. His rage built. Whispers of Eternatus filled his mind, feeding his loathing. His body was breaking apart, and all he could do was watch as humanity's legacy was stolen away by a nameless god. "Ever since I pulled Regice from those ruins, ever since I watched it repair itself over months...!"

A gauntleted hand caressed the helmet's bubbling surface as a laugh escaped Howard's lips, his dignity slipping away through his fingers.

"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR VICTORY, NOT SOME DEITY'S! OUR SPECIES! OUR SUFFERING! STOLEN FROM US BY SOME NAMELESS FUCKING HAND!"

Silence followed as his anger cooled. All that was left was a quiet rasp.

"Everything we've done hasn't been our own victory. It's been meaningless. I thought I was making a difference, fighting alongside the culmination of our species' knowledge against Eternatus."

"It was for nothing."

---

oscar clayton lam logan

Oscar grew increasingly concerned for Howard as he appeared to have a mental breakdown. His hand slowly slipped from Howard's back, useless as the man raved about a devastating revelation. There was a craftsman, some sort of higher power that granted the golems their life. Oscar understood Howard's rage; he had based his entire belief system on the idea that humanity had managed to create something as powerful as the golems on their own. Howard's passion on the subject had infected Oscar, who truly wanted to be able to combat humanity's threats without the assistance of gods. He should have known it was too good to be true.

Yet Howard took this development very poorly, and Oscar could only watch as his friend's pain grew louder and more unhinged. The scientist felt nothing but pity for Howard, betrayed by knowledge hiding just beneath the surface all these years. Oscar would draw the line at the end of Howard's rant though, furrowing his brows as he resolved to correct his colleague.

"Fuck that." His statement was assertive, perhaps even confident in its tone. "It wasn't for nothing. Using the tool of a god does not invalidate your efforts thus far. Don't let them take that away from you."

Oscar pressed a hand into Howard's shoulder, his grasp gentle yet firm. "Eternatus is still out there, the golems could not slay it alone. They needed humans to command them just as much as the humans needed them to fight back. You are the heir to that legacy, of humanity continuing to fight no matter the cost."

Oscar knelt to be level with the disheveled Howard, unsure if his words were making a difference but too far in to stop now. "And just because the ancients failed to do so, doesn't mean we need to be saved by divine intervention to win. I've watched Eternatus die in another timeline, and you know what killed it? A weapon forged by human hands. No gods, no legends, just the neverending drive of human ingenuity. We can still forge our victory, succeed where they failed."

Oscar's hand let go of Howard, turning into a fist that he gently pressed into the archeologist's shoulder blade. "But we'll never achieve that if we give up. That's how Eternatus wins."

howard slayte