And so, the two dragons begin their dance.

The King lands a hefty blow, its monstrous claw slamming down upon the metal frame of the Imposter. Yet, there's no satisying crumple, no dent left behind. Instead, the serpent rises up once more, and retaliates with a blast of draconic energy into its past self. You flinch for a moment as the pulsing violet hits the Scarlet, sending it skidding back against the ground. But as the attack begins to fade, there's no spurt of blood, no chunk of flesh missing. Instead, it continues to stand, and it stands strong.

At a glance, the two seem evenly matched. That pisses you off. This is supposed to be your time, your opportunity, your prize. You're supposed to crush this cheap copy like it's an empty tin can. This is supposed to be YOUR victory! And even now, after everything, she's still here, still intefering, still causing problems. She tried to kill you. SHE TRIED TO KILL YOU BOTH! She doesn't deserve this! She's UNWORTHY! Why is she even here? She's ruining it. She's ruining YOUR MOMENT!

And that, you won't abide.

You stare at her, eyes bulging, blood boiling, orichalcum searing. Your anger is as hot as the vibrant sun beating down upon you. Your ego is collapsing into a black hole that will destroy and destroy and destroy until not a speck of June Sleigh remains.

You inhale, as though you were about to dive into the ocean. You exhale, as though breathing fire. And then, you speak again.

"I, SAID, DESTROY IT!!!"

Once again, the King rushes forward. This time, however, there is no claw raised or fang readied. Instead, the entire body of the Scarlet beast ignites like a wildfire, a calamity of heat and light and destruction all condensed into a single charge. A Flare Blitz meant to melt through plating, circuitry, and engine all in one.

But destroying her champion is only one half of killing June Sleigh. The other half? You'll take care of that.

Running upon the trail of scorched earth left behind, you quickly close the distance between you and your would-be killer, and with murderous intent of your own, aim a strike directly at her neck. Not a punch, no, something more primitive, more feral, almost as if...

...You were attempting to claw her throat out.

---

june sleigh

...You're not dead.

Maybe you should be. Maybe you should've died decades ago, when you were back in Galar, getting into trouble with the boys in blue and fooling around with dangerous vices. Maybe you should've died years ago, when you were drifting aimlessly from region to region without care or concern, even for yourself. Maybe you should've died months ago, back in the Silent Icelands, when your war against the League took everything from you. Maybe you should've died weeks ago, when you were toiling in the Prismatic Penitentiary, beaten and shamed and drowned in toxins. Maybe you should've died today, when that Hyper Beam hit and obliterated what remained of Paul Meatles.

And yet, once again, you've survived. In spite of everything, a world that doesn't care for your plight and people who care even less, you're alive. As burning embers, crackling electricity, and motes of pure energy float about you, you turn to face your saviour.

Scarlet scales shine under the searing sun like impenetrable armour. Vibrant feathers flow in the wind like royal regalia. Its fangs and claws are an arsenal fit to defeat any foe before it. The crest atop its head is a crown, a signifier of its worthiness over all things. Still, you see something familiar within those amber eyes.

Ambition?

For a moment, you glance past the beast in front of you, to the beast behind it. Your Great Tusk, fresh off of its victory over Regieleki. But the mammoth takes no pleasure in its successful hunt. No, instead, it seems... Timid. It lays its head down, and kneels as best as its stumps of legs will allow. Did it take more damage from the Zap Cannon than you had first thought? Or maybe, it was surrender. A humble predator, yielding in the face of an apex life form. A servant, bowing down to the king.

...King. Yes, it is, isn't it? It is royalty. This thing, this anomaly that stands before you, is a king. Nothing else it could describe it.

You reach out and rest a hand upon the creature, and the orichalcum markings upon your burnt skin begin to ache. As though this was the meaning of it all. The reason you followed the leyline road to it's end. The destination you were looking for.

This beast, in another world and another time, is you...

...

...But then, what of the other one? That facsimile, made of metal and plasma instead of flesh and blood. Something about it fills you with anger, makes you upset in a way you can't quite vocalise. Yet, it looks upon june sleigh with some mechanical mimickery of compassion, as though a machine were capable of such a thing. Did it intend to side with her? Despite her utter inability to wield her power, despite her continued insistence on burdening everyone you hold dear, despite all her failures past, present, and yet to come, it would still choose her?

Then, like her, it is your enemy.

"DESTROY IT."

The girl might've forgotten about the conflict, but you haven't, and neither has the King. It acts upon your command with brutal efficiency, stomping forth and raising an arm on high. Then, a Dragon Claw fell, to shatter the mirror and dispel this warped reflection so that it might bother you no more.

---

june sleigh

June Sleigh hits the ground. It doesn't take long for Regieleki to do the same. You stand over one, while your Great Tusk stands over the other. You did it. You're victorious. You've won.

You begin to laugh.

It's a low chuckle at first. Then, it rises into a cackle. Then, it becomes a roar. You don't know why. There's nothing amusing about this situation, no joke hidden within the brutality. Maybe it's ironic, but not in a way that anyone could find funny. No, from her perspective, watching this burned husk of a man howling with glee, she must think you're insane.

Maybe you are. Maybe you hadn't endured all those trials and tribulations as well as you thought you had. Maybe all those lies you told yourself as catching up to you. Maybe something within you snapped, and you'll never be able to fix it.

But amidst the tragedy playing out, you take some small pleasure in being the comedian. As though when historians are forced to write about this moment, they'll have to spend paragraphs musing on why you were laughing so intently. They'll ask all the same questions you asked yourself, and unlike you, they'll have to find answers to them. A reason why you followed the leylines as far as you could go. A purpose for this battle fought over nothing at all. A motive for why a man who suffered so would needlessly proliferate such suffering.

In the end, they'll all fail. But one of them will be right.

Kill her, or die, said howard slayte long ago. You are not free. Choose.

You'd proposed the third option, a universe where the both of you lived. But your best friend had denied it to you. He said that if that universe truly existed, it was not this one. Thus, he tricked you into believing that your options were one or two, not three. Yet neither he nor you considered the fourth possibility.

As June gives up all hope, she gives the last command you'd ever want to hear her give.

"...No."

As you turn to face the fading titan, you see a new glow. The kaleidoscopic of Terastalisation is a different brightness than that of Regielekei, yet it shines brightly nonetheless. It shines even brighter as an all-too-familiar attack rears its ugly head.

"NO."

As you can do nothing but what, you're forced to reckon with it. The foolishness of you, and everyone around you. So concerned were you all with musing over difficult decisions and moral dilemmas, that you'd never even considered that the zero sum game would end up just that: Zero sum. No survivors.

"NO!"

As the Hyper Beam launches towards you and June, you're faced with the unseen yet inevitable outcome. And as it comes for you both, all you can do is brace for what comes next.

---

june sleigh

[googlefont=Rubik Burned]With a flash of light and a sharp crack, the Zap Cannon launched, and the resulting beam consumed Great Tusk whole.

For most, that would be a death sentence. Regieleki was a generator like no other, and it produced power the likes of which scientists and engineers could only dream of. Could you even imagine it? Enough electricity to power all of Galar, surging through you all at once? Eighty nine billion kilowatts ripping through your flesh and blood? As though you were nothing more than a loose wire in an insignificant circuit?

For most, it would be a death sentence. Like being strapped to the electric chair for days and weeks and months and years. Even the strongest of the strong, the Zev Harcourt's and the freya morningstar's and the jayden cross's and the kyle lopez's, couldn't survive for more than a few seconds.

But in the end, electricity was just that: Electric. And though Regieleki was strong, the rules of nature were stronger.

"If you won't give it to me..." You growl, your hand raising up to eye level, before clenching tightly into a fist, "THEN I'LL JUST TAKE IT."

For a moment, you're no longer in this world. You're back in the Ultra Plant, upon a lightning-scorched plain, thunder booming in the distance. The sun did not shine so brightly back then, and the air was not quite so filled with static. Still, the little inconsistencies melt away. The heart of the situation is the same. And it beats the same way, too.

"GREAT TUSK!"

Out from the light, emerged a shadow.

"SHOW THIS FUCKER WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCK WITH ME!"

And out from that shadow, emerged a Pokemon that should not be.

"▂▄▄▃▄▄▅▅!!!"

And as it emerges from the Zap Cannon, it deviates. Once upon a time, it threw the supermassive giant high into the air, so that it might be sent reeling as it came crashing back down to earth. But this time? The giant is shrunk. Small enough that it can wrap its trunk around its metal shackles, strong enough that it can ensure the tricksy golem won't escape so easily a second time.

And once the prey knows that there's nowhere left to run, hoof and tusk and fang and claw descends upon it, a vicious Close Combat unlike any other. It's a brutal assault, meant to beat it within an inch of its facsimile of life, to crush it so badly that its trainer's spirit is completely broken, to leave the both of them with no choice but to surrender or to die.

And just as one beast rushes forth, so too does another. And though there is no gun in your hand this time, your lethal intent is nevertheless radiant as you punch June as hard as you can.

Eternatus, whitelist, howard slayte be damned. For once, if only once, you will have your way.

---

june sleigh

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!!!

[googlefont=Rubik Burned]June Sleigh did not deserve Regieleki.

Maybe howard slayte did. Though he did not always handle Regice well, he handled it earnestly. He truly believed in its mission, he served the purpose for which it was crafted. Maybe Adrian Malcolm did. He who, when spurned by the League, sought out his own path. A trainer who could wield this weapon for their own purposes, whatever they might be. Maybe angelo vestri did. They might have abandoned their obligation to it, but they nevertheless knew it well. Were it in their hands, they surely could've brought out its potential.

But June Sleigh? She had no knowledge and no skill and no talent. She lacked in understanding and vision and ambition. She was like a child that'd gotten their hands on daddy's prized pistol, waving it around and firing it into the air. Idiot. IDIOT! Fucking stupid little moron! She didn't even WANT that fucking golem, and here she was, using it against you! Bitch! BITCH! BITCH!!!

She didn't deserve Regieleki.

YOU deserved Regieleki.

You, who had grown up in squalor and need without relief. You, who had struggled to find purpose in a dozen different regions. You, who scratched and clawed your way to beasthood. You, who lived and died and lived and died and lived and died and lived a thousand times in spite of it all.

And yet, at every turn, you were denied. You were denied Zacian, even though you had born witness to its battle at the Ancient Tomb. You were denied Regice, even though it was you who fought the hardest against the ice age. You were denied Kyogre, even as you tried to tame the leviathan upon the stormy sea. You had been denied Palkia, and though you cannot fathom the reason why, you can be sure that it was unjust. Kyurem and Hoopa denied you, even though you were the only one the empathise with the hollow dragon's suffering. The Galarian Zapdos denied you, even though its kin were so eager to forge bonds. Ruin denied you, even when you would've been so eager to bring it upon the world.

And yet, when faced with the ungrateful and the unworthy and the beggars and the bourgeoise? The people in their luxury offices, atop their skyscrapers? The common scabs, who wanted nothing more than humble lives? Those with nothing left to achieve and no will to achieve it all? They gave and they gave and they gave and they gave until there was nothing left for you. NOTHING! NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING! NOTHING AT ALL! NOT EVEN SCRAPS OR DREGS FOR YOU!

And as your blood pressure soars to record highs and your orichalchum mark burns so hot it scorches already scorched skin, a fundimental fact of this universe. An unfortunate truth of Universe 820, though you don't know it by that name, and never will.

Shred Zeppelin will never be given what he wants. He will never get what he deserves.

So his only choice is to take it.

Bandages unfurl, as though being pulled on by some unseen force. As Regieleki batters your Great Tusk with Extreme Speed, the mammoth endures the harsh blows. It bides its time, waits for its moment. And then, when the time is right and the surging flash approaches from the front, it unleashes a Head Smash to force the ancient automaton down into the dirt.

And as it crackles and writhes and buzzes and squirms, you approach the ingrate once more. But this time, as your second skin peels away to reveal your first, there is no misguided kindness in your eyes. Only a pure, complete, absolute hate.

"GIVE IT TO ME."

---

june sleigh

"You..."

Didn't understand. She had Regieleki. It was HERS! The power of thunder and lightning, stolen from the skies and crafted a corporeal body. You've SEEN Regice. You've SEEN what it can do. And if its brother has the same power that it does? Then it has the power to break her chains and then some. So why?

"You..."

Know this isn't going to end well. Once howard slayte finds out? He'll know it, too. And once Team Rocket finds out? Then everything is going to crumble. Not only is she coming off the whitelist, but she'll be a priority target. Everyone will be gunning for her. And if that happens, then Grigori Sokolov will die. He'll throw himself on the sword to protect his daughter, and his body will be nothing more than a stepping stone. And after that? howard slayte won't be able to live with himself. He'll defect. He'll run. And he'll die, too. And then, you'll be all alone. Brotherless.

"You..."

Know you're not strong enough. To protect June, Grigori, and Howard all at once. Not from Palkia. Not from Darkrai. Not from Pecharunt and the Loyal Three. Not from Eternatus or Necrozma or Ruination. But...

"YOU..."

Can't say you care much about that right now.

As Regieleki rushes towards you, your mind flashes back to the Ultra Plant. Back to your first visit. Howard is running backwards, heading for the exit. Grigori is running forwards, to try and stall the titan. And you? You're in the middle, standing still. You could move forward, or you could move back. You could flee, or you could fight.

Back then, you were a different man. You wanted to escape, but in the end, you changed your mind and stood your ground. This time? There is no hesitation. As you grab your Pokeball, there is nothing but pure killing intent in your eyes.

As you throw the Pokeball, your Great Tusk bursts forth with a Headlong Rush, and for a second time, your Paradox Pokemon clashes with the giant.

"...YOU BITCH!"

---

june sleigh

"I've had worse tattoos."

You pause, as though expecting a polite chuckle that you know isn't coming. You wish you could say you were fully joking, though. One of the benefits of being burnt from head to toe is that it hides a particularly ill-advised tramp stamp you got back in the 2000s. Which is a very thin silver lining for a very LARGE cloud. But, y'know. Got to take 'em where you can get 'em.

After giving it a second, you carry on. Can't let the awkward silence run too long. Arceus knows things are weird enough between you as is.

"...But to answer your question: It feels fine? Fine by me standards, anyway. The bronzey parts burn like hell when I actually use it, but that seems par for the course when it comes to metal getting hot."

Idly, you raise your arm. Underneath your skin of bandages, orichalchum veins and arteries draw patterns upon your blackened flesh. It raises so many questions, and you're equipped to answer so few of them. "How"? How is easy. Why? Why is much, much harder.

"Not that I'm an expert or anything." You lower your arm, burying your hand in your jacket pocket as you walk along. "Nomi took a look at it, though, so maybe she--"

You're interrupted by a loud crack of static from your Xurkitree, which cuts both your sentence and your train of thought short. Once the irritation from the harsh sound fades, you look over to your Ultra Beast as its long hand points upwards, toward a great husk of metal trapped within a mess of wires. It's a strange sight, like seeing a Forretress stuck in a Spidop's web. Yet, of all the strange sights you've encountered in the Ultra Plant, from living buildings to electric titans, this is the one that most resembles a spacecraft. Maybe not a functional one, and maybe not an intact one, but definitely a spacecraft.

"Jackpot."

---

Lulu Flint
24 encounter a crashed spacecraft that has been overwhelmed by xurkitree wiring; inside, thick black cords obscure rooms, stairs, and more.

Amidst the shimmer of Terastalisation, those that were lost are found. Zacian returns to the battlefield, restored from ruin by memory. The Hero leaps up high and swings down its sword, cleaving through hundreds of layers of Dynamax Barriers, and cutting straight to the core of Regice. Finally, finally, under the sheer weight of the League, Team Rocket, and their combined offensive, the giant staggers.

Howard is back, Navy is back, and they brought a ringer with them. As the pieces fall into place, you grab your Tera Orb. This? This is what you've been waiting for. This is your chance to--

"Prime... Ape...!"

And then, your Pokemon hits the ground with a thud.

"...Primeape?"

As the Dynamaxed Nihilego grapples to keep Regice's arm from falling upon you, you rush to the side of the fallen beast. His fur is burnt and matted with blood. Pushed to his absolute limit, breathing air drenched with Dynergy and attacking with all the power it could muster, had burnt his candle at both ends. In the end, it was too much. Like a supercharged engine, it could only run for so long at max speed before it tore itself apart. Now, all that was left was an empty wreck, a cooling corpse.

"No... No no no! C'mon, buddy! We're not done here! You gotta get up! We gotta keep going! We're almost done!"

It's the first time you've watched one of your friends really die. Yet, just like when you thought you'd lost Meltan, you feel yourself overcome with a creeping dread. Like everything has gone so very wrong, and it's all your fault. And maybe it is.

"...Fuck...!"

But unlike back then, you can't afford to stop now. You can't let it set in. Not until you're done here.

"Alright, you big frozen son of a bitch..." You growl, orichalchum searing your skin as you move to grab your Slither Wing. "I'm gonna make you pay for--"

"--gggggggggGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

A shackle breaks. And out from the broken body of the dead, a new kind of life emerges. A revenant, resurrected to walk the earth once more. Risen, not by purpose, not by revenge, not by anything as petty as truth or ideals or heroism or history. No, the creature that has returned itself from The Border did so only for one reason:

To keep raging against the world, until there was nothing left to rage at.

"Pathetic little ice age. Why are you still here? Your moment is over. Your time is past. Have you forgotten?"

Clenching a newly freed fist, the beast's arm begins to swell with power, the strength one can only gain from such intense suffering. And as you stand there, over the corpse cocoon of your Primeape, you think. As you stand there, watching this familiar stranger prepare its attack, a single thought occurs to you.

THIS is your chance.

As a ghostly hand rears back, your own launches forward, flinging a Tera Orb at your newfound ace-in-the-hole. A shining purple kaleidoscope reflecting upon his undead body, a glow of pure supernatural power. And then, with a living deathrattle, the newborn Annihilape stomps forth and throws a Fist full of Rage towards the frozen titan's arm.

"THEN LET ME REMIND YOU!"

---

it was a good post just read it mag

Once again, you stand opposite of a Regi. Why does this keep happening to you? Why do you always find yourself on the wrong end of these fucking golems? Every battle you've had with them, every piece of lost knowledge and forgotten lore you've learned of their existence, has been involuntary. You suppose, in part, you can blame that on your choice of company. howard slayte always had a fondness for these bastards... No, actually, more of an obligation to them. As though the moment he was given custody of Regice, he was burdened with the impossible task of gathering them all. Bringing together these superweapons, scattered far and wide. Regirock, searching for something in Area Zero. Registeel, wreaking havoc in the desert. Regidrago, lost to another world.

And Regieleki, standing side by side with the absolute last person that should have it.

"Of course it matters!" You snap. All of a sudden, you feel a swell of irritation rising from the back of your throat. Memories of your first encounter with the electric titan are still burned into your brain. And here it is again, that electric nightmare, fighting on behalf of an average everyday deliverygirl. And, despite that, all she can do is mope and cry and whine? "You... You...!"

You've both reached the end of the road, and neither of you like what you've found it.

Your Walking Wake is battered, beaten, struck again and again and again. Every crack of static is a hard blow, cracking bones and bruising flesh. With a desperate roar, the beast bursts into an Aqua Jet, a last ditch effort to outrun its opponent.

But much like its master, it's sorely outmatched.

---

june sleigh

Things seemed to be going so well, hadn't they? And then, all of a sudden, you find yourself on the brink of collapse. The Dynamaxed titan continues to fight on. People and their Pokemon get zapped and swatted like flies. Even as the last arc of electricity fades from the air, the harsh yellow glow is replaced by a warm red one.

You've faced down plenty of Hyper Beams from plenty of Regis. More than any one person ever should. Hell, you even got hit by one of them. But this? This feels different.

It feels like the end of the world as you know it.

"Fuck me...!"

You're instinctively aware of just how deadly this attack is. It can't be trifled with. You can't dodge it. You can't deflect it. You can't even really defend against it. All you can do now is survive.

Glancing around, you spot priam conrad and Alba Evovae readying themselves to weather the coming storm. Your fellows, not just in this battle, but in Rocket as a whole. So, as they dig in their heels and prepare for the worst, so do you.

"Here!" You shout out, reaching out and spinning your Dhelmise's wheel. Excess life energy rushes out of sunken wood and from clinging seaweed, stolen and stored from a half-dozen drains both Mega and Giga. Like water, it flows through the air, pouring itself into the Whimsicott, the Meganium, and the shield they're preparing. "Take it, quick!"

And then, you brace yourself for what comes next...

---

GIGA DRAIN IGNORE THE PAIN
i yield supporting the shield (of ALBA EVOVAE and PRIAM CONRAD)
the riddle is DYNAMAX i answer that because IT DO NOT MATTER
9CVgt2w2

War was on the horizon. And that meant that mandatory training drills were ramping up.

Frankly, you think that's a bit much. Seriously. You're a fucking Rocket Beast. Is that not proof enough of your competence? Apparently not, because you've been summoned to attend Anti-Avatar training, and no matter how much you yelled or no matter how angry an email you typed, they simply wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

What a joke. You're part of SPECTRA! You're literally part of the agency made to counteract Avatars and Legendaries, for fucks sake! Why did they even make you come here?! Ugh...

Oh well. Time to just get this over with, so you can do what you always do after a long day at work: Go home, eat a modest soup, and sleep for anywhere from twelve to sixteen hours, Arceus willing.

And Arceus was so rarely willing...

---

Yuan Wright