"We were all born under the same sky, Theo. You, me, and those who aren't avatars? We're the same as them until they decide that they're puppets rather than people."

The chuckle is noted. It's expected, even. The admin raged against the God General for months and still deemed that those comparable to him were human. His eye looked up at the heavens, where umbral swirls betrayed this mirrored world on the other side of the veil.

"And what a perfectly clear sky it is."

The march continued towards the center of the city, where Regirock's massive tunnel emerged from. Howard wondered where this version led. He still hadn't found the bottom of the one in their world. There, a monument of stone stood. A replica of Regirock proper.

"They would be our beloved comrades. They would also be the enemy. If they could not separate themselves from the wishes of their patrons, then they'll be put to the sword." His eye flicked to Theo as the admin began to dig at the base of the stone monument. "Like I did in Petalburg."

He paused.

"Have you spoken to our lovely underboss, recently?"

---

THEO BECKETT

On Mt. Pyre, there was silence. The dead slumbered in their graves, comforted in the fact that their trainers still loved them.

"AIYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Howard Slayte fell to the ground, defeated. The statue fell to the ground before the ogre and her retinue, and the archaeologist rolled around on the ground in pain. He rolled a dozen times, screaming and moaning in pain.

"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

Doug growled and grabbed Howard's leg, before dragging him off.

---

Andrea Vaneau

"My alibi is worth less than their lives!"

This excursion had all been for nothing. He had lost to Freya for nothing. June had played her hand for nothing. It had all been for nothing, and it had led them here, to a bunker that nobody but the oldest Rocket operatives knew, to house a Pokémon nobody knew the name of.

Miraidon.

His eye met hers. Damn. She looked worse than when he had first hired her on to shoulder that mountain of debt. Occasionally, he's forced to come to terms with the prospect that hiring this woman as a courier was a mistake, and that Grigori was right and that he was nothing more than a fool playing cards in a counted deck.

"And I don't prefer them. They just have nowhere else to go. Team Rocket is what they have. The League won't take them back now, and you know that to be true. We're just... marching. Waiting for an ending that sets us free." He was going to leave, until he saw something in her eyes that gave him pause. He wanted a reason to stay, and she gave him one."But I don't think that's coming."

She won. His leg hurt. He collapsed next to her.

"This'll be the third time that I let people die, but I think it'll be the first time that it happens because I didn't act." He laughed, before a thought came to mind. "I'm trying really hard to be mad at you."

---

june sleigh

Howard Slayte, second leader of Nebula, holder of two of Hoenn's five Legendary Giants, and only sane person in Team Rocket's upper command...

...was frankly worthless. He was a drunkard and a scoundrel and too married to his desk. It was incredible that someone could go bar hopping so much, get so drunk, and somehow come back alone every single time to sign reports and dutifully continue to rebuild Petalburg.

Amor Rose would be rotting in his grave if he saw him now.

"You're doing great, you two!" Howard cheered from his lawn chair as he drained his whiskey flask. "Clayton's been complaining that the plumbing hasn't been that good recently."

Granted, oscar clayton was the type of person to dump grease from all his machines down the drain, so the admin didn't mock him too much. Howard would've done the same at his apartment if he wasn't afraid of getting evicted.

The large square pit had been easily shifted by Howard's Pokémon, but Howard himself had done remarkably little. For a man with impeccable knowledge of geology and soil restoration, he seemed perfectly content to let his Pokémon do much of the work. Thus, Apolle drained the vigor from any plant life that risked getting in the way of the excavation.

The admin took another swig of his flask.

---

ameena abadi Makoto Kurumi
Fire/Water/Grass 80 BP
Absorb = 20 BP

Only a chef knew how to ruin a stew, though Howard suspected that if he compared whatever the Megalopolans were brewing to one of Aurelie's trademark Kalosian dishes, he'd never get a taste of the smith's cooking again. It wasn't like he could comment on it, given that he was buried under a half-dozen blew people, all gnawing and biting and punching with blue fists.

Unfortunately for them, the admin tasted terrible. Dynergy-marred flesh was an acquired taste, and poverty wasn't particularly good for the taste buds.

"You're... welcome!" At least Aurelie was calling him Howard again, though it had only cost turning himself into a punching bad. "Gimme a sec! I just gotta..."

Since Doug was out and about and likely feasting on Finneon and whatnot, the archaeologist was able to tap into his Arc Suit and force a connection between himself and the bear. Oddly enough, Doug was closer than Howard expected. Through his other eye, he saw flashes of a house in the distance.

Doug was approaching.

Tapping into the bear's power, a blast of red energy erupted from Howard as a Blood Moon was fired from his hand towards the ground. As Megalopolans drowned in a sea of spiders, the admin let out a shriek and started scrambling towards the exit.

"GO GO GO GO GO!" Howard yelped, ushering the smith up the stairs. As Megalopolans attempted to free through the same path, the admin slammed the door in their faces. His eye scanned the cottage, desperate. His eye fell upon an empty shelf. "Help me push the shelf over!"

Smiths were stronger than archaeologists, after all.

---

Aurelie Lefevre

No you can't.

Yet he didn't say that, because doing so would turn Absinthe's nightmare into a reality. It'd remind her that she was truly alone, and in a region that hated Fezandipiti and his retinue, Absinthe Blackwood had no hearth to call her own. No port would let her in, and she would again be friendless.

Perhaps in her own mind, she already was.

"Okay." It wasn't okay, actually. It was as far from okay as anything was. This was a betrayal of Hoenn proper, and to the organization he represented. Even if the admin hated Team Rocket and what they represented, this was where he stood now. Turning her in would be prudent. Killing the bird would be prudent. "Then I believe in you."

But that would mean rejecting one of Team Rocket's own, and in an organization that was universally hated, where did that leave her?

And if he had been in her position, he would've begged her to do the same. In a world where he was not an admin while still commanding giants as a dirty secret, he would've done anything to keep that hidden to avoid the weight of Team Rocket crushing down on his shoulders.

"And I'm sorry, because your life hasn't been a happy one." He doesn't know about her. Absinthe's other little secret. It's not his to know, though. "And I fear that it won't be getting any happier soon."

Unless she can right Absinthe's course. Arceus above, hopefully she can.

"And if that's the case..." He made a point to ignore the bird. "...then I think you'll need a hug."

---

Absinthe Blackwood

"Shit." The archaeologist sucked on his teeth, frustrated. "I should have killed her when I had the chance."

When they had fought, the admin had been down a giant. Regirock had fallen on Yuina like a rockslide on a sapling, and yet she had persisted with a mixture of clever ploys and personal failings. He should've brought Regice. He shouldn't have left. He should've, should've, should've...

And yet what Regice had found in that pit was the next step in restructuring the foundational principles of the world. Yuina Higashi was secondary.

And the admin couldn't bring himself to crush her. He liked Yuina. She was smart. She recognized the past. They were kindred spirits split by providence, and yet that fight with her had worried him. Every time he pushed her back, he suspected that there had been an extra trick in her back pocket.

She had been too calm. Too detached. Too inhuman. An anomaly. That terrified him.

"There's a chance she'll tell. She's smart, but historians know that keeping a secret goes against our creed." Yet Yuina has a mountain of them, unbeknownst to him. The war in her heart is hers alone. "But you won't be able to keep this secret forever. A time will come when you're pushed to the wall and the only way out is to play your ace in the hole."

There are some things that a Shiinotic with unstable loyalties cannot rectify.

"People will hate you." Regardless of how blind Absinthe is, regardless of her circumstances, she will be despised. "But you already know that, don't you?"

---

Absinthe Blackwood

"Kick me all you want! It doesn't matter!" The thought of getting kicked around by an ogre terrified the archaeologist, but his belief held strong. "I get it! These statues are cursed! They're evil! And yet..."

He clenched a fist in defiance while Doug continued to growl at him.

"...I want to see people overcome this evil for themselves, a thousand years from now. I want people to improve and overcome this, rather than let you smash them all. You're doing the right thing, but let me keep this one!"

His eye was wide and pleading, and despite the archaeologist's easily kickable form, his arms were trembling from carrying the statue while staring down Andrea and Ogerpon.

"Please!"

---

Andrea Vaneau

"Have I not let you do that since the moment I hired you?"

The stink of alcohol is heavy on his lips, but as the admin speaks, his eye clears slightly. He's still afraid of her, of the bird that struts about like the king at his court, but the admin's greatest power is that when his back is to the wall, he is capable of pushing forward and making the impossible possible.

It's not a power bestowed by a god, and it's separate from the giants he commands that shake the earth like thunder. It's the power of a human being who understands other human beings. Empathy. Hatred. Self-loathing. Howard recognizes the emotions in Absinthe because he himself is defective.

"We all have a choice. It's about how you go, where you are, what we do, and how we stand before we fall." He put a hand in his pocket. Intoxicated synapses roar for him to kill the bird and crush it under Regirock's fist. "And you're standing on a cliff, Absinthe. I'm not going to deny you your choice, but I am also your superior."

He ordered her to kill the bird and the monkey and the dog, and she brought them into her bar.

"Answer the question." He closed the gap. He can hear her heartbeat, but she can't hear his. There's nothing left in his chest to beat. Whatever he is now, it's distinct from the humanity that he lauds. "For your safety."

He leaned in close.

"Who knows?"

---

Absinthe Blackwood

There was once a time where the Draconid people charted the stars and the sky in honor of their great deity. Hoenn was a region in which traveling by sea was imperative, and in order to do so, one needed to be able to look up at the sky and know where they were going.

Otherwise, it was likely that they'd be blinded by darkness as they crashed into the sea.

"See, if your people had any sense, they would've actually built you in a place where you could see the sky." The admin pointed at Regice as he set up a telescope he had plundered from Lulu Flint's lab to look up at the night sky. The golem did the equivalent of shrugging its shoulders.

When had it learned to do that?

"Anyway, let's see... I think it works like this?" The admin peered into the telescope, before frowning. "What the...?"

He looked up from the telescope and glared at Regice, crossing his arms as he did so.

"There's a series of stars that kinda looks like you, actually. That's odd." Howard stared back at the telescope, brow furrowed as he memorized the star pattern and began jotting it down. Regice leaned over to look, its Wishing Star pulsing through the golem's Clear Body. "See?"

⠊ ⠙⠕⠝⠞ ⠅⠝⠕⠺ ⠞⠓⠁⠞⠎ ⠝⠕⠞ ⠍⠑

---

CALLING: ICBG
CHART

The real Fezandipiti trusted nobody. The only thing he believed in was the return of his lord, and in toying with the hearts of men and women for nothing other than perverse pleasure. He knows that from his experience in the Loyal Three's prison, where he had been whipped and beaten and bruised. Yet she doesn't know that. It's for the best.

That prison would've turned Absinthe from a human into something far worse, the more he thought about it. This woman was defective, used by a dead husband and buried in the past.

In his vaguely drunken mind, Howard wondered if Abby had ever existed. It seemed like such a delusional prospect now that he was looking at the bird preening at him from the countertop. There was no recognition behind his eyes, for Howard had been Munkidori's prisoner.

"I fear..." He swallowed dryly. "...I've been alive too long, with how many times I've heard that story. You're not the first to utter it, Absinthe. You will not be the last."

He let her justify her decision for several moments, before blinking once.

"You don't believe that." There's a shared, mutual understanding at play. Howard Slayte was often a prancing fool who played at distractions to keep himself sane, but the admin was a unique force on the board. If she killed him, giants would erupt from the earth and turn everything into glass. "Absinthe."

What saves them both is that somewhere in the admin's chest, despite his insistence, beats a telltale heart.

"Who knows?"

---

Absinthe Blackwood

Montgomery didn't cave, clearly. He was more used to shooting things that annoyed him with a gun and fighting drunken rivals outside of bars.

Howard, meanwhile, excelled. He wormed through the opening with remarkable ease on account of his height, exhaling as much as possible to collapse his chest in. The archaeologist wasn't physically strong or well-built, so he simply wormed forward as he easily followed Montgomery's slow pace through the tunnels.

When they dropped down, the admin pulled out a flashlight and looked around.

"Entrance should be about twenty meters behind us and about forty meters down..." He did some basic math in his head. "...forty five meters, roughly. We should hit the back of the ruin in about forty more meters, but I'll bet you money there's a secret chamber filled with rare artifacts. Maybe an account of the hero's journey."

He trembled at the prospect of such a discovery. He put a finger to his lips to communicate quietness. He pointed towards an open corridor.

"Listen for the flap of Sigilyth wings as we go. Check the corners of ceilings as well."

---

Montgomery James