An uncaring god watches as the child she has been entrusted with slowly cracks under the weight of the world, just as it watched as it stole Howard Slayte's integrity from him in his triumphant moment.

"Very well. It will take me time to get everything into place, but I will keep my promise to you, as I always have." The words feel like a slap in the face, cruel and uncaring and unjust. Yet still, even an angel must shake hands with the devil.

It's hard to know which is which, now.

"I'm going to stay here for a while longer, alone." She likely didn't trust him, so he added a few words. "I never got to have a good look at the ocean before I buried it in ice."

As he spoke, he pulled off the eyepatch that hid his missing eye. A Key Stone, corrupted red and pink, stared back at her, cursed by a land spirit and by overuse in the power of a god. As the wind blew hair in front of his face, he turned away from her.

"The view from the ground is wonderful. Why did I climb such a tall mountain to see them when it was right in front of me the whole time?" Howard gave her a small smile as he prepared to disappear. "Goodbye, Eris."

He disappeared with a pop!

---

Eris Halla

Her conviction reminded him of a better time.

"Then stop them." Those were the only words he could offer to the girl staring him down, angry at the prospect of losing a kingdom of cold iron and processed steel and the knight that attempted to warm it to the grasp of Team Rocket. "Defend what the knight is incapable of defending. Defend your home, Little Lady."

His eye flashed as he put a scarred hand into his pocket. A blast of cold sea wind buffeted them from the ocean.

"Because that's what I'll be doing." She's come to the same conclusion he has. If the League could close the portals, they would've done so already. When a god of space is shackled, anything is possible. "So, Little Lady..."

A grave dedicated to nineteen towered over them both.

"...do we have a deal?"

---

Eris Halla

Surprisingly, the admin doesn't laugh at the beast's shameless confession. Instead, he gives Hitoshi the side-eye with the only eye left to him.

"Nobody knows the Miltank's body better than the butcher." That's all he's given the luxury to say before a dog comes crashing through the brush with all the dexterity of a sledgehammer. Its green and black body gives the archaeologist pause. This is Shred's enemy, not his own.

The dog fills him with rage, but it's not personal. It's simply the enemy in the same that the Nihilego from the Ultra Deep Sea are: collaboration with another foe.

"Shirley!" Howard shouted, the Aerodactyl flying over the Arcanine with a primordial howl, older than the retainer that challenges them. Regirock or Regice would be more apt foes, but Shirley is Howard's Pokemon more than the two giants are.

Thus, she flies down, tearing at the dog's eyes, blinding him before being forced to fly away as Okidogi leverages his strength to break her bones.

---

Hitoshi Inoue

"Eh..." Howard looked at Roy, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere once the archaeologist began to scream his head off. "This is..."

Roy asked the question. In spite of everything, Howard found himself smiling in remembrance. He tucked his head to his chest, recalling memories of Meteor Falls and Petalburg Woods from their youth. From beneath a half-lidded eye, Howard recalled a few exchanges.

'That's the Dragon's Den!'

'That's fossilized Drampa dung!'

'That's a Dreepy fossil from when it was first alive! Cool!'

'That's... a D minus on your homework. Were you even studying!?'

Good times. Terrorizing Rustboro had been a lot more fun when it had been ditching class and going on adventures, rather than waging war for the sake of the world and other obscene doodads. When had Howard Slayte changed so much? The realization made him sad.

"That, Roy, is a cell!" Howard beamed, clapping the man on the shoulder as he peered down at the crevice. It had taken him a moment to recall it from Amor's notes, but he had gotten there in the end. "I didn't know they could be found here!"

Eris Halla spent a lot of her time chasing them in the Mechanical Kingdom. The fact that they were in Meteor Falls was... concerning. Or perhaps it was always meant to be. Fernando's Zygarde was no small secret, especially since Howard had fought it a few times now.

"Normally they just run away and hide behind gears and whatnot." He looked at Roy, thoughtful. "Do you..."

He blinked, before waving a hand. It was unimportant.

"Should I get a shovel? Dig it out?"

---

Roy Aker freya morningstar

There's a moment where the mask almost slipped off. Speaking to Gideon is, for better or for worse, an easy thing to do. The man is kind, knowledgeable, and wise. It's easy to forget that this is the man that had ruined one facet of his life with a mere answering machine.

"It actually-" He almost says that catching Regice had been easy. His tongue is loose, and it threatens to wag and spill everything that blurs the line between Howard Slayte and Admin Fox. "-wasn't too bad."

He carries on, talking to Gideon as a Clefable meanders across the path. It's not a bug, but Celpho incapacitates it with a carefully measured Cut, and Howard threw a Pokeball at it. The Armaldo impresses Howard more and more, due to his forbearance and capability for measuring out attacks.

"There were a lot of dangerous attacks, Max Moves and the like, but Gideon, listen to me." His eye sparkled with excitement. "There were ruins in the desert, once the Registeel fled. I think it was wounded by something, but what?"

There were practically stars floating around the archaeologist's head.

"Aren't you a little curious about our region's history, separate from Draconids and Hoyeons and whatnot?"

---

GIDEON GRAVES

CATCHING CLEFABLE

The Rocket Admin had the decency to flush and look away as Barnaby words found purchase. His eye looked everywhere: the monitors, the window, the door. Yet it refused to find purchase with the Infernal's bemused gaze. If he looked, he would eventually blink and lose.

Thus, he chose to avert his eye.

"No. I'm me. I've always been me." His voice was composed. Dry and dead, but as composed as one could be as synapses fired in a losing war of attrition with the endless march of drugs forced into his body to keep the heart beating and cells from dying. "I haven't changed. I'm not you. I'm not like any of you."

That line was his prayer, chanted over and over again until it became tradition in an attempt to separate himself from Admin Bee and Team Rocket. Yet as Howard's fellow admin spoke of an office chat, the admin's blood curdled.

When was that?

"You're always there, yet I never remember you. A songbird whispering truths into my ear, before backing away before I can put a finger on why you say the things you do." A caged canary, meant to sing until it died to indicate a gas leak in a cave. Yet Howard had dug so deep, relying on his canary to stop singing when death was approaching.

Yet, when he had turned around, the bird was gone. When Howard looked back at the tunnel he had dug, all he saw were corpses and frozen islands.

"What're you getting from all of this?" Howard protested weakly. "I don't understand."

---

BARNABY FINCH

Only because he didn't have all he needed. Not like I do.

The thought remains unspoken. This isn't a debate about the ethics of a man who had long since returned to a region that needed him. They spoke not of traitors, when both Eris and Howard danced the line like so many of their comrades and colleagues.

"Hm." He gave her a look. "I wonder if Volcanion will agree with that assessment."

Only when Eris mentions Rocket does he even begin to look uneasy. It's an emotion that passes in a moment, but a god of emotion is a fickle thing, and nothing goes unnoticed beneath its gaze. She won't like his answer, and frankly neither does he.

"I don't know. I would be more concerned with the eventual seizure of Littleroot. If I were you, I'd find a way to move the kingdom's portal or close it entirely. Once we take the town, I have no doubt that certain people will look down in search of material."

oscar clayton comes to mind. He does love his steel and mechanical toys.

---

Eris Halla

The underboss's words gave the admin pause. They're cruel, but they're not heartless. Because, at the end of the day, Cillian Quinn was a man who shouldered the woes of thousands. His purpose was to lead, and to lead meant understanding the failings of the weak.

That was the burden of the mighty.

"I'm trying. I'm really trying. I just..." He looked up at the ruin ceiling, where crudely carved stars and constellational movements were marked as the people who had once lived here tried to chart the heavens, before realizing that they were people of the land.

The Draconids were exalted, living in the heavens. The Hoyeon were eternal, living with the sea. The average people of Hoenn were of the land, and they carved it from rock and ice and steel.

"...I just don't know how much I physically have left to give. I almost killed myself to tame Regice in Dewford. I lost my body in Petalburg. What else is there to trade? How much more can one person offer to bring down a god?"

He chuckled once, holding his head with a Dynergy-burned hand.

"Guess we keep on going, huh?" The statue that carried the world offered little and less. It simply continued to whisper lines spoken by those long dead. "No road left but the one that leads to the end?"

He chuckled again.

"You're a crass piece of shit. You know that, right?"

---

Cillian Quinn

"Amor."

His name was a curse, shared between them. Even if Amor Rose had returned to Kalos to live a life of nobility, his actions echoed in the recesses of history that few remembered. For once, the admin looked surprised to see Eris produce a ghost. He supposed this was the cost of being a child soldier.

Eris Halla's entire family were ghosts, now.

"If you think that, Little Lady, you're as blind as you are short." A strand of hair blew in front of his eyes, pale as crystal. He pushed it behind his ear so that he could give Eris his full attention. "Every dream has the right to wage its war for existence, but his..."

He regarded her thoughtfully.

"...his was dark. Dark in the way that the space between stars is dark."

Eternatus was the villain. It was the villain for the simple fact that it was humanity's antithesis. It rotted Dewford from within, and its children swarmed forth to wage a war against those who lived on this side of the portal. When Regice tapped into Eternatus's power, it had immediately turned on humanity.

Eternatus was a plague. Yet Howard suspected that Eris didn't care. She played at the game of gods like a drunkard rolling dice.

"Then it doesn't work. Yet even if it doesn't..." The smile he gives her is genuine. "...it's every knight's dream to be given a flower by a princess, is it not?"

---

Eris Halla

Slowly, the archaeologist began extracting himself from the pile of curtains he had fallen into while Aurelie had whacked him a dozen times on the head. The smith was remarkably strong, to the point where even her spider-felling smacks still hurt minutes later as the duo stared down into the hidden basement.

"If Doug's gone, he's gone. He'll come back when he feels like it." Howard looked at her, before looking back at the basement. He chewed his lip thoughtfully, his face pale from the Spinarak's mighty assault. He's probably fighting the Loyal Three."

With them popping up with increasing frequency, Doug was often off in Petalburg Woods or some corner of the region, stopping the Toxic Chain like some sort of bear vigilante. The thought was ridiculous, but Doug came back with more scars every morning.

Yet what ultimately snapped Howard from his melancholy was Aurelie's formal use of his title. Admin? Is that what I am, now? He felt a small part of his soul die when he feared the implications of that sentence. Yet that was what ultimately spurred him to bravery.

"Let's go." The admin led the way down the stairs, not giving the redhead a glance. "Come on."

Slowly, down creaking footsteps, the archaeologist led the way down to a basement that quickly gave way from foundation to walls of dirt, silt, and clay. Wooden beams sagged under the weight, and the duo found themselves in an odd labyrinth network that consisted of several thin tunnels.

A cellar. The smell of old straw struck Howard's nose. Silently, he put a finger to his lips and took a few steps forward. In the distance, a voice rang out, echoing through the darkness.

'Nyeheheh... The Never-Rot's will has not died. The chain... the chain!"

---

Aurelie Lefevre

How did he explain Zacian? Why was he explaining Zacian to his doctor? Why wouldn't these Indeedee bring him liquor? Life was full of many mysteries, and explaining fairy tales filled with knights and princesses and evil dragons to Naia sounded ridiculous. Only when Naia asked if Zacian was an admin was he finally able to speak.

The question amused him greatly, and he chuckled.

"She's a hero." Howard said simply, with a thoughtful smile on his face as he remembered three months spent in Galar with Navy on a quest to kill Eternatus. Wit returned to him, and the term to describe Zacian popped into his mind. "One of many battles."

He sipped his coffee to wet his dry throat.

"And the patron of an Elite Four member. I wouldn't worry too much about it. If people like you or me ever run into someone like that, the best thing to do is to turn around and run away. We're too fragile to fight things that strong. People break easily. They suffer. They beg for death. And still, we keep moving forward because that's all we know how to do."

He regarded her evenly as he wrapped the blanket around himself. Having learned what mankind was truly like from epochs of recorded history, the admin had made a vow to ensure that his limbs were still warm enough to fight on their behalf.

"I think that's a beautiful thing."

It really was a warm blanket. When Naia reassured him that there would be few visitors, Howard relaxed slightly, allowing his shoulders to slump.

As long as Team Rocket wasn't pecking at his corpse for some modicum of intelligence, the admin could face this woman with minimal concern. Something about her worried him, like she was a paradox that didn't belong in this world, yet there were thousands of Rocket Grunts and many of them were strange.

Except for Howard. He had been a perfectly reasonable grunt. 

"Alright." He met her gaze. "Let us begin."

---

Naia Kayode

"I'm chasing Regidrago. I'm trying to fulfill an old friend's dream."

Howard Slayte, contrary to the perceptions many held of him, was not a liar. He hid his identity, he misdirected, and he often deceived. Yet he did not lie. The truth was sacrosanct, and to muddy it for mere material game was proof of a lesser person. Howard was flawed, but he wouldn't look a little girl in the eye and lie to her.

Regardless if Eris was a bigger threat than many recognized.

"Years ago, that giant drained power from other meteorites at Meteor Falls for one reason or another. I'm following its footsteps." Even if it was a fool's dream, it wouldn't stop Howard from marching after the golem with the same dogged determination that had led him to Regirock. "Little Lady."

His voice was soft, like an older brother explaining that Lenore Halla wouldn't come home.

"If you do this, I will catch Regidrago. I will seize it and use it to kill Eternatus. I will use it against you. I will use it to fight Navy . I will use it to fight Eduardo Hisakawa and Isaac and anyone else you love. But."

He held up a finger.

"You will help save the world, and you will abate the suffering of the Mechanical Kingdom's knight."

---

Eris Halla

The map is an expensive thing, designed for hikers and surveyors from Driftveil City's city hall. As Montgomery mars it with a cheap pencil, Howard simply deflated, sighing as he did so. Yet it wasn't like Montgomery cared. If they needed another one, they'd snatch one.

"Yeah, I've heard of it. This is a step above plundering the Relic Castle. You're talking about raiding a cultural site." Howard peered at the map, silently grappling with the prospect for several moments. "No guards, though. It'll be doable."

If Unova valued the ruin so much, they would've put more into preserving it. As it was, it deserved to rot and go.

"If we alert one of the Sigilyth, we alert them all. They're like Claydol in that sense." Howard chewed his lip thoughtfully. "And by a lot, I mean a lot. More than your Skarmory can take alone."

On the admin's back, coiled around like a world serpent, Shirley glared at the gangster, her tongue flicking between serrated teeth.

---

Montgomery James