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The rain continues to fall, more and more tumbling from the heavens to take root in the soil. The berry tree drinks deeply, nurtured by Appletun’s care.[break][break]

He’ll keep coming back over the next few months, watching over it until he can take its seeds. Then he’ll leave and never come back.[break][break]

“I think we all have to think big one day, whether we like it or not. But—”[break][break]

The air drops a few degrees as a dark shape blurs between the two of them. A mountain dweller, come down from the snowy peaks for one reason or another. It stops, perhaps to look for something, and in that moment the white-haired man makes his move.[break][break]

That’s how the world works, right? Small, insignificant choices become something larger than you can imagine.[break][break]

“I forgot what I was going to say, exactly, so I’ll just say good luck.” There’s no easy way for someone like him to talk about how to fix things.

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“No Toxic Chain…?” How bitterly disappointing. It’s the first time Alba’s around to witness one of the symptoms of the poison afflicting Hoenn, and it’s just a bunch of amateur artists. There was little to be gained from them. No fleshy tendrils, no reason to drag them back to the lab and introduce them to a new life that didn’t bear describing.[break][break]

Well, it is what it is. He’s all dressed up for the occasion, mask and everything, so he might as well do something. The Rocket grunt’s pair of Mismagius get to work, Shadow Balls and Mystical Fires raining down to clear some of the herd.[break][break]

And to think, he’s not even getting a Ranger’s pay package for this…

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“Of course. This is the biggest Tera Cave we’ve ever seen before, Parker! Imagine we come all the way down here, and all we see are some birds!” Not to be confused with the kind of bird haunting Parker’s mind that very moment.[break][break]

But the birds of both varieties would be left far behind for the time being, in favour of dogs and other, stranger things.[break][break]

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry. It’s not like the murder-dogs are going to murder us.” Alba says it with all the confidence of someone doomed to have their face ripped off, altogether a little too at home in a cavern full of crystals with a habit of giving birth to physical nightmares. But hey, it takes that kind of disjointedness to be part of the organisation that invented the Genesect Warcrime Project, right?

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If something went bump in the night, and nobody was around to hear it, did it even make a sound? Wasn’t that sad? Was Parker really going to let all the horrible monsters’ hard work go to waste like that?[break][break]

“...Oh.” There is clear disappointment in his voice at the revelation that the noises were just a bunch of weird theatre kid birds. But hey, it’s not a total loss, right? Maybe if they grab one of them to take back, they’ll squawk out something interesting.[break][break]

…He left his spare Poké Balls back at camp.[break][break]

“Wait, come take a look at this! I think something else has been here.” And yet, in the throes of ‘it’s so over’, there is a 100 roll that says ‘we’re so back’...[break][break]

Or maybe the other way round, depending on your stance on monsters.

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Stoutland huffs at the various sounds and shadows of Area Zero, circling its trainer round and round again. It's a far cry from the places it's used to; everything is a potential danger, and so it takes to protecting its old charge.[break][break]

Alba is less cautious of his surroundings, though equally as attentive of them. The luster of Tera crystals reflects in his eyes… and apparently drowns out the sound of a beeping pager, as well.[break][break]

“Probably a Pokémon, right? Let's go check it out.” Mysterious crashing sound? Deep within a mysterious sprawling Tera cave, deep within the earth? They couldn't possibly just leave it alone.

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Winter had crept in, even as deep beneath the ocean’s surface as they were. Despite himself, a shiver runs through Alba as he steps into Jayden’s office, his breath forming a lazy mist that hangs in the air.[break][break]

There’s not much preamble, something the scientist is somewhat grateful for. The cold he’s faced with is biting, almost hateful in his harshness. Another shiver, another puff of breath.[break][break]

“Admin Cross.” A simple greeting to match his superior, before he launches into the meat of his visit.[break][break]

“Do you remember the S.P.E.C.T.R.A. Trinity Trials? I wanted to ask about finishing my initiation. I thought you might be the best person to ask, seeing as you were one of the evaluators for my group.”

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“It’s been a while, king.”[break][break]

Vengeance. Deception. Nightmares and fears. These are the stories the dream-born high king has been demanding, and has feasted upon for these past two weeks. It had chosen the right place to plant its roots, if that was what its palate demanded; where better to hear such sweet bitterness than the beating heart of Hoenn’s wonderful criminal empire?[break][break]

All because of that statue, was it? A pettier beast than he expected.[break][break]

Alba had quietly stepped away after his first tale. He had no such stories to share. If he told the king as much, it would surely see the lie for what it was. Perhaps the king knew the lie already: but if it did, it made no mention of it.[break][break]

“I have a tale of memory for you. A memory of fighting, of sacrifice… Of ghosts, supposedly.” When Alba recites for Calyrex, his eyes are always unfocused, as if he’s looking at something beyond sight. For that final point on the list, they fix on Calyrex directly, countless words and emotions swimming deep in liquid steel.[break][break]

And then the moment passes, the storyteller clears his throat, and launches into his spiel.[break][break]

“There was once a land that was doomed to die. It was a land built with a single purpose: it told a story, one that needed to be once again discovered by the world. Much like a book, when that story was over it would come to a close. But a story requires people who are willing to listen. And so, the world dragged an audience into its embrace.[break][break]

“The story was a long one, you see. A long twenty years of page turning… Of reading through pages littered with strife, war, and venom. The audience awoke, dazed and confused, attacked by a dying king whose name had been lost to history. It would not be the last of their trials, for the greatest of lessons are told in the shadow of death.[break][break]

“The land itself was poison; purple tides rolled in like the tide, scarring the land as they were driven back. And yet, life went on; little pockets of the world were cleaned out and made into towns. A monster as black as ink laid waste to these, but still they persisted. And from its bones did they arm themselves.[break][break]

“It was a land not fit for life. It was the story of death and war, told with such vibrancy that it might as well have been real. But the sun and moon still set on that world that never was, for those twenty false years. Even when the edges of the pages started to fall apart, even when the inkwell started to run dry, the people who held up the story breathed and bled.[break][break]

“And now they are nothing at all. Just a memory that has already faded from so many.”[break][break]

At the end of his story, he drifts gently down from that wistful nostalgia, fixing Calyrex with that same inscrutable stare.[break][break]

“You sit here, demanding we bear our hearts and lives to save your own. Clawing your way out of a dream on a petal, the single survivor of the Rusted Shield…” A fist clenches, and unclenches, the weight of a hammer a distant memory. The king had died, and yet here it was; long live the king.[break][break]

“What right do you have to live? Why are you more important than the others who are no longer here?” His voice is even and controlled, as befitting of a royal bard meant to regale tales of deep and profoud sorrow. What was the point in doing otherwise? Alba Evovae was a knight, a minor piece on the board. A king cannot afford to shed tears for such a meaningless thing.[break][break]

“You should have had the grace to bring your subjects with you. That’s all.” With the sharpness of a book slamming shut, he gets up and walks away, a cry of “Cro rown!” carried on the wind behind him.

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“I’ll also accept an IOU,” Alba replied with his boundless generosity. His eyes flickered back and forth between his surroundings and Howard. It was the only part of him that seemed to be alert; the rest of him looked like he was just enjoying a casual talk.[break][break]

“…You’d enjoy digging around in the Relic Castle though, if you don’t mind a little sand.” Well, a lot of sand. The only reason he wasn’t still finding grains in everything he owned was because he’d moved far away from that old life of his.[break][break]

In the distance were faint chirps and chitters; the sounds of Pokémon torn between a hunger for the fruit and a wariness of the pair that stood in their way.[break][break]

“The current theory going around seems to be that Dynergy’s responsible. It’s probably been feeding off the Power Spot ever since we constructed it, like… well, like a plant. When it reached capacity, it burst. If that’s the case, I think it was just a matter of time, not because of one event or anything. But Dynergy doesn’t answer every question.”[break][break]

Somewhere nearby, a forgotten king was being gifted a story. The words were just out of earshot, because to suffer eavesdroppers would be to share its meal.[break][break]

“Calyrex is from a dream, so how did it get here? Was it waiting inside that petal?” If they stopped feeding it stories, would it fade away once more?

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“No, I didn’t mean to imply that. My point—” Whatever point Alba was going to elaborate on died on his tongue, as he (presumably) thinks better of it.[break][break]

This was as far as he was going to get, wasn’t it? Zev Harcourt held the surety of stone. Questions about ifs, and whats, and other kinds of failings… They would break against his clifface without meaning.[break][break]

That would have to do.[break][break]

“Nevermind.” The scientist waved his hand through the air, a gesture that at once dismissed himself and hinted at a kind of surrender. “But to get back to your question… I wanted to give you the crystals, for one thing. I don’t know how much you remember of the dream from that day, but I thought talking to you beforehand would be more helpful for me.”[break][break]

His eyes flickered over to his hovering hand, as if he was assessing himself. Or perhaps it was like he was gazing at his own reflection. “I’m here to help myself feel ‘complete’. That’s what’s at the core of all this.”

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If he was going to write a project report on this (he wasn’t), Alba would probably put something along the lines of…[break][break]

‘Maushold was chosen as the subject of this experiment due to their abundance and genetic makeup. The species in general has a high population, to the point where an entire family of Maushold can be considered a single Pokémon. This particular subject was also part of the battle on the resurfaced island of Route 105; it is my hypothesis that this proximity to violence will make it easier to contact the Spirit World. Finally, their classification as a Normal-type means they will serve as a good control group for further testing.’[break][break]

…But this wasn’t exactly science, or a proper experiment. It was just… well, it was something![break][break]

Looks like everything was in order… With the Maushold family ready and waiting, Dusknoir suddenly freezes up, its red eye staring unblinkingly at the spirit board.[break][break]

“I think it’s connected. I guess we should start with a simple question? Test the waters, ease everybody in. That sort of thing.”

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What gave someone their worth? What made a person a true player on the stage of the world? The gifts of legendary and mythical beings raised up the chosen few over the many, but they weren't by any means untouchable. If something could bleed, it could die.[break][break]

If the world was a game of chess, Alba was a pawn; maybe a knight, if he was lucky. He had his uses, but he was a minor piece on the board. Not something to be discarded without a second thought, but something that could be sacrificed for a more important part of the army. He wasn’t strong enough to fight an avatar alone, but the Trinity Trials had shown he could work in a team to help kill a nightmare.[break][break]

That is, of course, why he’s sitting outside Admin Cross’ office. Avatars were the queens of Hoenn, both as soldiers and as points of study. He managed to get one foot into the door of S.P.E.C.T.R.A., and it was about time to get the other through as well.

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