now, let's see if silverio's luck turns around...changes for the better...another big pull coming...!?

take a breather, and back to simpler techniques. will he dare to try that one again...?

to pull that precious gem for a second time...what luck! suppose it's high time to press that luck even further...!

fear and panic strikes the nerves of the two employees whom the paldean-born ranger has just secured, and with good reason. the place is falling fast, and with every second passing, the waters rise a tad further up. what does this mean for silverio and the two workers whom until moments ago were trapped in its depths? only that time is not working in their favor. if either of the two victims had once failed to swim previously, well, let's just say that would be no time to offer them a lesson or two.

a voice...

just as all hope looked grim, josh calls. a free hand of silverio's digs for his communicator, and holds it as close to his lips as possible whilst he retains one of the afflicted workers in under his arm, his bulky bug warrior fastening the other within its own hard-scaled limbs. "second level...west wing...!" is all he could muster before the rising tide finds solace in his mouth, but silv quickly refutes it.

"there's a row of cabins down here...and...they don't look to be...in good shape...!" he can only hope that this would be enough of a hint for josh to go on. for now, he paddles forth with his pokémon, the two worrisome folks in tow.

he can only hope that neither his frog-ninja-in-training nor elise's ghostly companion would be caught by any would-be threats on the outside. at this point in time, he would also bank on the golisopod's makeshift barriers can shield said threats for long enough so that these poor folks and their pokémon can recuperate peacefully. a valuable partner, that amphibian has grown to become, and silverio can thank his father for that - a parting gift, as a baby froakie, whom the old man stated that would help the scholar someday in a time of need.

what better time than now, he imagines...

but as if arceus had just cursed the man for any wrongdoings of the past, a barbaracle emerges onto the scene, only to be subdued by one of the friends he saw upon first meeting the galarian royal, silv's hand resting on a pokéball at his belt all the while. "that is...muy impresionante! very impressive." he commends the princess and her compatriot, as his hand returns to his side.

fights are never wanted, and in this case, suppose one was deemed unwarranted. "we could certainly use more of this guy around to keep the peace..."

wishful thinking perhaps, but alas, there is still work to be done. eyes prompted towards the outer edges of the makeshift town, remembering that his own poké-ally was out there, still working his insectoid butt off. he addresses the captain once more, "i'll go ahead and check on things outside; feel free to give me a ring if something else comes up."

and with that, the operation continues...

repeition was, indeed, a key to remembrance.

just like how the paldean-born ranger has oftentimes needed to repeat processes of salvaging materials and offering aid to the afflicted within shortened amounts of time. it can be suffice to say that the work of someone contributing to the relief efforts has become second nature to silverio, and not a moment too soon, it seems. one question remains, however: how much longer until the said efforts begin to make a reliable difference on the pokémon that call sea mauville their home? hard to say.

speaking of aforementioned efforts, an iron-headed creature arrives to offer an assist to silv's insectoid in mending said materials together. as it had gone to collect more possible means to perhaps craft some makeshift shelters for those affected by the ongoing tragedy, the sounds of metals being seared takes the bug by surprise, stifling steps with steel beams in hand. however, as any warrior, it retains its composure shortly after a stumble. nonetheless, it renders its trainer shaking his head in a rare case of being humored.

had that blast been directed at the insect warrior itself...

no, best not to worry. eddie's words prompt silv's attention, and perhaps the whole 'having a ways to go' bit may not have been the analogy that the ranger was looking for after all. regardless, the idea is the same - ensuring everyone's safety. arms crossed as his eyes venture into the open, the back to his partner. "i've been out here for about a week now, and i gotta say...the things i've seen down in the waters look far worse than anything here, that's for sure."

eyes widen at the mention of dewford.

"you don't say..." memories, albeit brief, stirred in the mind of the paldean. "pretty cool place, i'll admit...i wonder how the sheriff's doing...? i'm based in rustboro, but us rangers have been stretched thin with all this mess lately, so i've been here and there on...more than a few occasions."

meanwhile, the gargantuan insect greets the aggron, presenting more sheets of metal. to forge temporary roofs of the victims' heads, most likely.

over time, a myriad of questions have begun to plague the mind of one paldea native, and with no clear answers in sight. among those, one self-made inquiry has been attacking silverio's psyche like a flesh-eating bacteria, chewing away at every fiber of his being until there would be nothing left of him. where does he stand amongst the brave heroes who fight tooth-and-nail to for the safety and well-being of hoenn, as well as the people and pokémon who inhabit it? but unlike any other question brewing in the cauldron, suppose that one answer which he may not seem to like for himself comes to mind...

judging from recent experiences, perhaps it stands to reason that silverio has no place amongst his peers after all. or did he ever? the paldean-born ranger may have cursed himself with doubts, which begs a question: what is the purpose of his meeting with the one who oversees all ranger activities here today? suppose it is suffice to say that, if there's one thing that silverio needs more than anything right about now, it's clearance. a subtle reminder to oneself that the path he was whisked away towards is serving to be a one-way street - towards success.

for the answers he seeks, silv is more than willing to travel an extra mile or two. thus, sets a course for hoenn's east side, except that deluxe apartments in the sky are but of figment of the paldean's imagination, and with no hope of moving on up anytime soon. an array of flowers that adorn the pavement stir up soothing reminders of home - particularly, the path to his homeland's victory road. perhaps that he would tread these lands with the same intentions as he once did as a growing boy.

but that is neither here nor there.

upon the arrival of one ollie morales , azure eyes widen as silv's hands emerge from his pockets, a quiet but heavy breath passing through pale lips. "thank you for agreeing to meet with me today," he greets the head ranger, concerns growing evermore. for the man to take time out of what may undoubtedly be a painfully busy schedule - especially when war threatened to traumatize all of hoenn - to see him here? silv's gratefulness is clouded, with worry evident in his tone.

"i imagine that you must busy with arceus-knows-what, so i'll cut to the chase: i've come to seek your advice. lately, i've had some...chilling concerns that have been eating away at my conscience for awhile, and..."

they leave him wondering if he truly deserves to call himself a ranger.

"...i don't know who else to turn to..." not here, at any rate. sure, there was AIRI WATANABE , a woman and fellow ranger whom he considers a friend. and perhaps his only one. of course, he's worked with many others, but none were as close to his heart as she. has he not made any effort to develop an ample level of camaraderie amongst his other peers? simply put, they've been comrades - allies - and nothing more.

maybe that was the problem?

has he not allowed himself to open up was widely to others as he once did...? not since...no...why bother dwelling on that now...?

perhaps something slightly less complex this time around, he is willing to try...will he stick it...?

time to take another gamble on his breath, how much longer would he able to hold it...once again, into the depths he goes...

if at many times, he didn't succeed, how much longer could he go? how much further down the line could he go? how much more often would he willing to try this one...? all day if need be...

what even was this that was picked this time around? perhaps a piece of a wide puzzle? or maybe...no, never mind, back into the depths he goes...