His children? Howard's eye looked up towards the Skarmory chick pecking at his hat. His eye rolled as they kept walking forward.

"Not my kid." It's the tone of a man coming to the realization that the tiny critter he's been left with is slowly becoming important in his life. The Skarmory distribution network was working well, sending small Skarmory chicks to destitute archaeologists who needed them. "Sure, go ahead. Stop him from messing up my hat."

The bird is pulled from the hat, chirping angrily as Howard plucked him from his fingers. Denying Ceres was like kicking a puppy, truly heartless.

He placed the bird in the young woman's palms and sighed to himself.

"I saw three. Good eye." He admitted casually as they turned around a corner. He tapped his missing eye. "No depth perception."

Lying to the crippled was a truly heinous act.

"There's a coffee shop near Petalburg General that we can sit at. I want to check how many officers pass by for the invasion."

---

ceres

Instinctively, the archaeologist ducked as a ranger flew over his head. When he stood back up, another ranger barreled into him. The admin stumbled to his knees, before using his Sygna Suit to send the man flying towards the Exeggcutor, which battled him into the stratosphere.

Howard squinted as the ranger disappeared into the distance. He grimaced as the man thudded against the ground, unconscious.

"Fucking Hanu, I swear to Arceus above." Howard grunted as the last of the rangers fell. Soon, there was only one left. Hanu looked like he had lost a fight with a hurricane, but he was surrounded by fallen rangers. "Not bad."

If anything, Hanu's performance was impeccable.

"Last two." Howard took a deep breath as he fell in line with the collapsing Alolan. The man weighed a ton. "I'll take the left. You take the right."

The one on the right had a Golem. A fair fight for Hanu. the one on the left had a Pidgey.

A fair fight for Howard.

"GO!" The archaeologist lunged forward.

---

Tangaroa Emzar

REPEAT THE SURF. KEEP SURFING. IF YOU KEEP SURFING AND SURFING AND SURFING YOU WILL RECREATE THE BLISS OF THE INITIAL RUSH OF ADRENALINE. KEEP GAMBLING. KEEP CHASING THAT ORIGINAL HIGH.

KEEP CHASING THE FOLLIES OF YOUTH.

---

MAGIKARP SPLASH
M3wt8uu7

The true potential of Dynamax is on full display. Buildings crumble under the weight of worldshakers designated to defend the earth below from the advent of the heavens. It is a glorious display of humanity's prowess and the most scathing criticism of their destructive tendencies.

Regice is massive. It offers large swaths of protection from the storm and from the madness below, offering a mobile artillery platform that priam conrad , oscar clayton , and Yuan Wright use well. The admin can't help but wonder if this is how the golem was used in ancient times, when the region burned.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound continued. The infuriating sensation continued to grind at the admin's ears, demanding he heed the events of Dewford.

The two titans meet and the sound of rocks grinding and ice cracking echoes for miles. A bridge is formed, but it dissipates shortly after as the Regice winds up another punch. Another Max Knuckle. They will stalemate again, but Regirock is fresh and Regice is not, the unfortunate byproduct of six trainers combining their efforts to knock the admin from his icebound throne.

"No, Priam. It's not in the plan. This is fucking meaningless." He rants to Priam, to Oscar, to Wright, to whoever listens to the man slipping from rationality to hysteria. "Petalburg is fucked. We're all fucked."

Thud. Thud. Thud. The fists meet again. The archaeologist's eye widened as black cracks, viscious and ominous, spread from the infected defender to its pristine sibling. Immediately, the pounding grew louder. He recognized the cracks from a dream of Galar.

WHAT FRIGHTENS YOU, LITTLE ONE?

The distant sound of a bellow and a vessel overflowing with malice eat at his mind.

A voice cuts through the failure and fear and regret and hate. A specter on the ground called to him, asking irrelevant questions about his strength, unaware of the fact that Howard Slayte was not strong. It is Oscar that is strong, with a mind that engineers brilliance. It is Priam who is strong, who has fought Regirock before.

But he could be.

A voice cuts down from the heavens, cruel and loving and hating all at once.

"Yes." His voice carries stories down to gaius marcellus . "I'll be stronger. Gotta be, to shoulder this weight."

But it is the strength of the masses that culminates in the strength of the one. He taps at the communicator in his helmet, grimacing with the fact that Mesprit, Uxie, and Azelf had fried his communicator. Fuck Howard, he supposed.

"Oscar." The admin threw a Pokeball towards the scientist. He grinned from beneath the helmet, his face dire. I'm gonna be stupid. Assuming something happens to me, find Regice a good trainer. Keep it if you want, I don't care. Just use it against Eternatus when the time comes."

Another pause. The fists prepared to meet again as two Max Knuckles collided.

"Have it play with Genesect. Maybe you can be better to it than I was." He tapped a container on his Sygna Suit, ensuring that Priam's statue from the Desert Ruins was there. Good. He had that, and as he tapped at his belt, he found a few empty Pokeballs. That would suffice. "Later, Priam. Wright. Get Dorian and whoever else you can scramble up to blast its fucking legs."

The fists met. Fear infected the icebound colossus further, though the Wishing Star within began to glow vibrantly as energy accumulated in the core.

"I'm off."

He sprinted across Regice's arm, his Sygna Suit offering moderate protection from the sand, though the Sandstorm caused him to trip and stumble as he crossed onto Regirock's arm. Rock. Stone. He understood those. He had built his life on them. Fear wiggled in his mind as he sprinted across the massive stone arm the size of a freeway.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck..."

Fear. What a toxic rot it was. No wonder the golem was so enraged. How had he resisted it? Zacian's influence? No Zacian here, no Zaria to protect him. Only himself and whatever fire support Oscar magicked into existence.

FAILURE. FAILURE. FAILURE.

"Nope. I'm not. I beat you last time. Couldn't get me in Galar, can't get me now."

He began to climb the stone colossus.

---

HOWARD BRAINROT MOMENT
Bitches at Wright/Oscar/Priam, gives Oscar Regice's Pokeball
Notices Regice is getting corrupted, recognizes Ting-Lu's influence from Garden of Avalon
RUNNING ACROSS THE REGICE/REGIROCK BRIDGE to reach Regirock, moving to L3
Getting corrupted by fear, getting fucked by sand
Taking Regirock's ODD REGI STATUE from Ruins of Regirock
Taking some Pokeballs
Start praying
Regice uses MAX KNUCKLE again as it charges power in its core
jorNUDel

Space ice cream sounded dreadful. Poor Phoebe.

"You're not wrong. Nothing quite like the land we live on. No matter what happens, this is our home." He put his head in his hand and smiled faintly, his eyes glimmering with nostalgia. "It's a big world."

It was a shame that they'd likely never see it all. Yet this was a world worth fighting for, and its people as well. The sand, the surf, the sea. Mountains and forests and frozen lakes and everything else that this magnificent world had to offer.

"It's the National Museum of Natural History in Slateport. Finally got that job." A few years too late, but GIDEON GRAVES had finally extended an olive branch that the admin had gracefully taken. "I'll get you a tour with the staff. They're great people."

Arceus above, he hated half of them. He took a dip of coffee as he regarded the astronaut. Granted, if he had been stuck in space for as long as her, he would've been jumping for joy to finally land on solid earth.

"What're your plans? Think you'll stay in Hoenn until your next mission?"

---

Phoebe Vega

Howard knew better than to talk back at the man holding the gun. There weren't that many archaeology students willing to bend the law for financial gain, and Howard was valuable. It just sucked that he didn't feel valuable.

The Cofagrigus's coffin door opened with a shrill scream as Montgomery's Pokémon tore into it. The spirit within left the coffin behind and was quickly snapped up by Krookidile. After that, there was only silence in the tomb. Silence and sunlight.

How harsh it was.

"It's gone." Howard poked his head out from behind the gangster. He was intimately familiar with the exorcision of Cofagrigus. It had actually been part of an elective course he had taken a few semesters prior. "Nice work."

Tentatively, he crossed the tomb's space and nudged the coffin with his foot.

"Solid gold." He raised an eyebrow at his colleague. "Not bad. We just paid off the whole operation, Monty. I almost forgive you for despoiling the tomb."

---

Montgomery James

Fun? Fuuuuuuuuck.

Howard hated fun. He had wanted to break rocks and extract Dynite Ore today, not shatter skulls.

"I'm coming!" The admin's Sygna Suit activated as the Reflects were triggered, creating a wall of light that split the mercenary from his employer. Howard tapped it, hissing in annoyance as he did so. Channeling his Aerodactyl's power, he flew over the walls of light. "Hunu, do not-"

Ranger bodies fell as the Alolan trampled them under his massive form. Every act that the Tangaroa took made the admin want to scream.

"This is your idea of fun? Seriously?" The admin ducked over a body thrown by Shirley, before kicking another Ranger in the shins with Strength. "Try not to kill the rangers. I hate writing coroner reports."

As the rangers fell, Shirley barreled into them with Iron Head.

---

Tangaroa Emzar

Or she would die. The terrifying thing was, he believed her. He believed that she desperately needed this because the results of forgetfulness were carved into her eyes, her face, and eviscerated flesh.

"You're welcome." Howard murmured softly. He was a historian. An archaeologist. Every story in the world would be woven into a tapestry that would echo through millennia. This woman's tale was a small part of it. "I'll help you fill in the pages of your life's chronicle."

If they could restore it, they would.

"Rocket's resources are yours. But." He raised a finger. "When you're put back together, if you're willing..."

He suddenly regretted bringing this woman into Rocket. He tamped down the guilt and buried it. He had never been given the luxury of letting emotions consume him. Nobody asked. Nobody cared.

"...please help me kill a god."

---

Absinthe Blackwood

"Thanks, man." Howard's voice was intent as he meandered through the next race. "It just feels like I've lost a lot along the way."

How many artifacts had he sold in order to fund his search? How much of the past was donated to the wealthy elite to be coveted instead of studied? He had preserved much, and he would preserve so much more, but he couldn't help but suspect that somewhere along the way, his ideals had been compromised.

He turned to face the sheriff. Weary eyes. A moment of peace in an endless war. This fight with Eternatus would leave them both dead. Perhaps the world would be better for it.

"If it's any consolation, you'd suck as a ranger because you wouldn't have my hat." Hattori wins again. The frog is committed, he'll give them that. As Elite Four during one of the biggest wars in recorded history? I suspect you'll fit snugly in the pages alongside the greats."

He rose, grunting and popping his back.

"Am I still swinging by for dinner? Please tell me you're not cooking."

---

Navy

Her memories were tattered. Recalling anything would be difficult. Impossible, even.

Rocket's technology was impeccable, and there were scientists who specialized in the dreams and memories of others in an attempt to unlock the universe's secrets. There were those that could stitch flesh back together and make Absinthe whole, if she wished.

But that journey is long. It is hard. It not his to make. Finding purpose is hard. That does not mean that she has to take it alone, though. He knows what it's like to bury memories, to forget things to keep his sanity intact. He can barely remember Necrozma's Avatar's name.

"Ruined. Disgusting." He tastes the words on his tongue, thoughtful. His eye flickers again, specks of red in a sea of blue. "That is what Team Rocket consists of. The forgotten and the shamed who did not get the chance to pursue their own happiness."

Howard deserved that chance. Absinthe did as well. Abby, though he did not know her, most of all. He took the leap. He touched her cheek with a scarred hand.

"Ruined. Disgusting." His fingers traced over torn flesh and muscle, before reaching the unmarked section of her face. "Pristine."

He moved his hand away.

"Are you brave enough to find the truth?"

---

Absinthe Blackwood