The admin snorted in amusement.

"What? Did you think that healing wounds you inflicted would make it magically forget its contempt for Necrozma? You should've thrashed it harder, within an inch of its life if need be." Flick. A lighter flame ignited as Howard lit himself a cigarette. Its influence was a calming pillar of support against Howard's colleague.

"Can't win them all, I suppose. Don't make the same mistake again."

Howard had little faith in Lunala's ability to coexist with Necrozma on a personal level. There was too much hatred there. Too much callousness. Howard's claim was rough and violent, but there was no other way than to capture it by force. Valerio Dachev and his influence could not repair an eternal grudge.

"Mt. Chimney isn't the best example, but it'll serve." A drag accompanied a dull red glow. "You mentioned a flute? It's likely part of a ritual. A ritual that Lunala remembers. Perhaps it was born here."

Mt. Chimney was the cradle of life within Hoenn. It wasn't that Mt. Chimney was Moltres's lifeline, but instead that many entities owed their lives to the warmth and heat that magma offered.

An exhale. Another drag.

"You still smoke?" He pulled another cancer stick from the box and offered it to the devil. "Got a question for you."

---

Zev Harcourt

Nebula's goal was the capture and containment of high-value assets that could help Amor Rose reach Regidrago, the construct that had saved him a few years ago. It had a few other objectives, but the admin didn't interface with those. Avatars. The flow of energy. He did what Amor asked, but he didn't understand much of it.

He simply did as he was told. A cog in the machine.

"I'm being followed. At least, I suspect that I am." The admin had swapped out his cowboy hat for a baseball cap for a team that Josh Devlin supported. It turned out that if Howard swapped out his hat, his demeanor changed drastically. A 'perfect' disguise. "I suspect that I'm suspected, Makoto."

They were inside one of Dewford's corner diners. Legend had it that Dewford's sheriff got his coffee here, but Howard knew that the Elite Four member had swapped out coffee for tea a few months back. Something about his health?

"So I need your expertise." The admin bumped his head against the table and clapped his hands together in a sort of bowing motion. "Help. Please? Name your price."

He could pay for whatever they needed. Hopefully it wasn't anything super expensive.

---

Makoto Kurumi

It took Howard a few seconds to realize who this was.

"Oh, I remember you! You're the guy I beat at the tournament!" Some scars never truly healed, especially when battling was involved. If Howard had been beaten by someone at his own skill level, he would've retired. Permanently. Forever. Until the mountains were eroded away and the oceans dried up. "How've you been?"

It was delightfully refreshing to not have to play politics for once. Noel wasn't a member of Rocket as far as Howard knew, so the admin could talk like Noel wasn't trying to gut him with a spoon.

Judging from their history, that was still on the table. When the subject turned to Serizawa, Howard's face turned to despair.

"I don't know!" Howard wailed as he pointed at Serizawa. The pupa hadn't moved an inch since Noel's appearance. "We were crossing the road, and he just decided to stop! He won't move an inch!"

"Tar."

Noel had lost to these two?

---

Noel Parker

Masquerades were dangerous things. Apparently one had been hosted at a museum belonging to GIDEON GRAVES way back when, and it had been two steps away from unrequited disaster. Doing it again seemed like a bit much, but this region loved its masquerade balls.

The fact that he was at this one, though... he remembered the order as if it had happened yesterday, which it had. It had all started when Elisabeth Fiorelli had requested that he meet with her.

"Admin Fox, there you are." She had been inspecting some wilted flower when he knocked. "I have an assignment for you."

"Underboss Fiorelli..." Howard had opened his mouth in protest. "There's a shipment of Dynite Ore coming in today that I need to oversee-"

She kept talking, as if not hearing him.

"The Yukimura family will be holding a masquerade tomorrow. It will make for a fine opportunity to make new connections for Rocket." She gave him a look. "Go. Observe. Watch. I trust I don't have to tell you why repeating your success at the holiday party is paramount."

"Underboss Fiorelli, I-"

"Excellent. Off with you, then." She had dismissed him shortly after.

---

"She's such a viper..." Howard grumbled as he unceremoniously dug through a coat rack in an attempt to find an item of note for this scavenger hunt. Maybe doing so would get him better food, a generous financial donation, or maybe a rare artifact.

Hell, he'd even take something that could help Rocket.

"C'mon..." These clothes were stuffy, the mask obstructive, and the the hat difficult to balance. Truthfully, he wasn't trying that hard to find something. He could always go back to Elisabeth and say there was nothing of note. "Anything here..."

Nothing. Telling Elisabeth he found nothing was looking way more appealing. It was time for his exit.

"Oh well, I guess I found nothing!" Howard mimed a loud yawn as he extracted himself from the coat rack. "Guess I'll go! What a shame! Alas..."

He bumped against the coat rack. Clatter. A CD fell out and struck the ground by his foot.

Damn. He picked it up his 'clue'.

"Dammit."

---

Scavenger item is a signed copy of Melody Miro 's M.M signed by Ulysses Monroe. Allegedly.
DRIP
HAT
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As Navy's successor protested, Howard held out a frost-tipped finger, silencing her.

"This Pokémon was built to fell a god. Or, at least, to keep Eternatus from destroying Hoenn." He does not use a nickname or pronoun. To give Eternatus such an air of authority was to ascend it even further into the realm of divinity. Howard was a historian. He did not mystify. He illuminated. "But..."

Its pattern beeped so far above, a distant constellation accompanied by Wishing Stars shining in the darkness. Its mechanical shrieks were low and baritone.

"...I've seen what happens without a Dynamax Band. It kills Pokémon. Eternatus's existence is toxic. Galar burned when Eternatus moved. When Regice reverts, it'll die." He let out a hollow laugh. Lifeless. The realization that the most valuable piece of history Howard ever owned was about to destroy itself. "Regice will-"

The massive Wishing Star burned with a scarlet fervor. The gem of a god. A core from which dreams were made manifest. In a simulated world, something like it had been the beating heart of Regirock.

⠁⠎⠉⠑⠝⠙. Regice reached for its heart. Its pattern blinked yellow and red as its arm reached up higher and higher in an attempt to grasp at the Wishing Star. To incorporate. To unify. To reunite. The six months that the golem had spent without a Power Spot had been a lonely one, and yet it was so close to unification.

Yet as it began to pry at the star, the Dynergy began to dissipate, just like it had with Josh Devlin's Rime in New Mauville.

"It's over. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Walsh is gonna kill me. Cillian, Elisabeth, and Theo are gonna murder me for this." Despite that, he could not look away as Regice's ice ended. Tsubaki, Navy's Pokemon, and Howard bore witness to the death of a defender. The golem began to shrink. "FUCK!"

The Dynamax ended. The Ultra Deep Sea stopped freezing.

Regice stood still, unmoving. Instead of collapsing or shattering, its pattern reignited as it turned on.

⠓⠑⠇⠇⠕. It looked from Howard to Tsubaki, recognizing the latent power of her Power Spot.

"What? You're not dead?" For an agonizing second, Howard expected Regice to kick the bucket and die. A second became two, then three, then ten. Regice still moved, perfectly functional. The admin remembered to breathe. "You're not dead! Navy, it's not--!"

The sheriff's body was slumped over, unconscious. Right. Howard had forgotten about that.

"Oh, right."

---

Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki

"I'm glad you're done chasing birds. I've been listening to reruns of The Bee's Knees since you left Sootopolis, and I must confess that I prefer the genuine article to the recording."

The scribble of a signature, the rustle of paper scraping against a folder, the click of a stapler. An anthem for the unending march of work that never truly ended as Howard looked up from his desk. Behind him, a map of Hoenn showed various safe houses, supply routes, and, most recently, Hoenn's five authentic Power Spots that supplied Rocket with Dynite Ore and Wishing Stars.

Admin Fox had been busy. Moving to Dewford had been quite the hustle, especially under Rocket's nose.

"How did it go?" A complete skeleton of an Amaura stood next to Barnaby's seat like a sentinel, protecting the admin from harm. Which admin, Howard didn't know. "Well, I assume. You're not dead."

It would've been better if Barnaby had died, but still.

"I assume it was pretty hot. Literally."

---

BARNABY FINCH

It was easy to forget that Amor simply did not care. The Head Scientist did not often lie, but he did misdirect. He omitted information when it was convenient and twisted fact when it suited him. Dialga. Dialga. Dialga.

If Dialga could fix everything, there would be no cause for suffering. If Palkia could remake the world, then illeana reyes would've done it by now. Unbeknownst to him, the universe remained stable due to her interference, but the Alchemist could not end this war alone, no more than Dialga could.

"That's why you and I are here, instead of on opposite sides of this war. Amor." He turned to face the Head Scientist. "We both decided that our desires outweighed the good of others."

A lie. Howard had always joined Rocket for the money. He had always wanted the money, yet somewhere down the line Howard realized that he had become the person he hated. He didn't know when that happened, but it did. He had sold out his passion for money, and justified his deeds in the name of that passion.

Had it been worth it? Likely not. Yet it was all he had.

Archaeology. History. Those were what remained to him. It was his legacy and duty to shoulder the weight of those burdens.

"You feel just as strongly about this vow now? Time cools passion, as you should very well know. Are you the same person that you were when you made this your goal?" Honesty and truth. If Amor had gone this far, there was no need to lie anymore. There was nobody to call foul. "You said you'd save the world with Dialga's power, but if you have to turn everyone to ash in order to do so..."

That was not heroism, but Amor had never been a hero. He had given himself a goal and decided to march towards it.

"Don't tell me it won't matter because you can rewind the clock, Amor. Tell me anything, but don't tell me that."

---

Amor Rose

There were many painful ways to die. Disembowelment. Torture. Drowning. Burning. Howard was beginning to realize that dying of shame was the worst one of all.

"Serizawa, please move..." Howard nudged the Pupitar with his foot, though it was like trying to move a mountain. The cocoon weighed a trillion pounds, had an attitude, and was absolutely refusing to budge. Normally this would've been fine, except Howard's Pupitar elected to stop in the middle of the road. "You're embarrassing me..."

This was supposed to be a walk to strengthen Serizawa's bond with the Rocket Admin. As it was going, the only thing this walk was strengthening was the likelihood of a parking ticket. One that Howard couldn't afford.

Luckily, this street was fairly dead. Granite Cave loomed in the distance, and nobody seemed to notice the Pupitar. Yet.

"Serizawa..."

The Pupitar opened his eyes. "Tar." They closed again.

---

Noel Parker

"There is no government in this world that is not corrupt. There has never been an institution whose righteousness was absolute."

Never, in a thousand years. There were legends of golden kingdoms with gilded halls ruled by kings of such wisdom and kindness that they were more akin to gods than mortals, but all were lies. Kingdoms fell, men grew complacent, and chaos followed order. The upturning of civilization was a concept that would never vanish.

There would always be skeptics such as Amor Rose in the world.

"Kyle was not perfect, nobody is. Yet he was strong, and he did not deserve to go out in the way that he did." That, he would not budge on. Kyle was the one person Howard would be biased on. He had lived in Hoenn when Ho-Oh's chosen had ascended to his position.

As a historian, he was to remain unbiased. He tried his hardest. Everyone had their flaw, and Amor's was that he chose to upturn the world by joining Rocket.

One bad decision. That was all it took.

"Every person? Every Leaguer? Every single member of that government? You know that's not true, Amor." Howard turned back to the pile of Wishing Stars. "But I digress. I'm not here to spar with you."

Arceus knew that infighting was the cleanest way to bring down an organization. The first iteration of Rocket had fallen for that trap, and Howard knew that if Rocket began to fight themselves, the League would win. Howard would be forced to pick a side within Rocket, and risk the consequences.

He already was to an extent.

"Dewford's infrastructure isn't good enough. I've been to their docks. Their sheriff has done a good job, but it's harder to defend. Sootopolis's walls are strong. Dewford's beaches are not." Plus a shore invasion would likely destroy the condo that Michael Navidson had loaned out to him. "You would burn Pacifilog?"

Of course Amor would.

"Tactically sound, but Amor..." Howard coughed into his fist. "If you do that, you will do to League's recruitment what Matias has done to ours."

---

Amor Rose

The idea of there being a universe where the dream where Howard got devoured by a Pidove was real terrified the admin.

He would never admit that to Ameena, though. If he started asking her about all the random and unrelated dream he had, Howard suspected that this conversation would collapse in on itself like a house of cards. Still, the subject was interesting. If it could be applied, Ameena's theory could be used to grant Rocket access to assets they hadn't had before.

Yet still...

"I see. There's a lot of potential behind the power of dreams." The Island Cave had leaked Interdream Mist like an sieve, and that mist had been capable of manifesting delusions of reality. To dream was to delude, and to delude was to believe. "Yet hearing you describe this..."

He looked up for a moment.

"...makes me sad. Not due to your progress, but my own beliefs."

Dreams were beautiful because they were intangible, impossible to pin down, capture, and chronicle. They were life's great mystery, and hearing Ameena describe her process was like watching the veil be torn down. It was their job as scholars to answer questions, but what happened when there were no more questions left to ask?

He posed one that he still had.

"Do you think there's a difference between the dreams that drive people and the dreams you have while sleeping?

---

ameena abadi

Nenet? That must've been the wife. The name felt familiar. Hadn't he seen it when adding june sleigh to Rocket's whitelist on Grigori's behalf? Realistically, Howard tried to remember all the grunts of note, but there were too many to list, and far too much to be done.

Some names would simply have to be forgotten. For now.

"I bet you do." Occasionally, he had wished the influx of Dynergy had killed the Rocket Beast. ■■■ struck Howard as the type of man to limit his vices, but how could one man not get drunk on the power of the divine? "Before the Darkest Day, Lunala and Necrozma fought in Slateport. I wasn't there, but I've read the reports."

Lunala and its swarm of Nihilego had gotten the alien god pretty good. If the bat had killed the prism, Howard's life would've been far easier. He'd have less of a certain ex-Avatar and ■■■ running around.

"Pity. I'll look into the flute." Fighting Tapu Bulu? If hell froze, maybe. "The make of the ruin is familiar, but do not mistake that for similarity with another construct in our world. Stonemasonry is a universal language."

Life flit across her surface, but the land's language was one understood by all. Rock and stone was the same.

"I'm going to assume that you restrained yourself and didn't kill the Lunala. What, did it fly off?"

---

Zev Harcourt

"Eheheheh...." He scratched his cheek and looked away. "You could say that."

A look in the pantry would reveal that he did, in fact, not. On the contrary, scrolls and dusty books filled the pantry, allowing it to act as an extra bookshelf. A disturbingly small section was dedicated to Yeggo waffles, alcohol, and saltine crackers. Truly, this was the banquet of kings.

Pichu would feast, at least.

"I have enough for sandwiches, at least." He said sheepishly as he turned to look at Eris. The only difference between his former apartment in Rustboro and his new condo was the fact that the condo wasn't completely frowning in artifacts yet. Still, much of the same stuff from there was now here.

Still, the artifacts Howard collected looked to be in better shape than the man himself.

"I have... hm... peanut butter. Marshmallow fluff... Jelly..." He peered into his fridge. "Heck yeah, we're feasting today little lady!"

Poverty.

---

Eris Halla