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Chapter 111 – Truth Isn’t Bright
Dark Matter lay on the ground in the outskirts of Null Village, vomiting darkness as countless holes on his body sealed themselves shut. He groaned and wheezed as half of his body struggled to keep its shape while the other half barely retained what form it had left. Currently a Goodra, the other Void King tried to stand again, but his leg collapsed from underneath itself and he fell back down.
“That cursed tree will be the death of me,” Dark Matter hissed. “How? How did he replicate it? Why?” He rolled onto his back, staring at the starry sky. “My realm… he tore open my realm…”
“Looks like he tore more’n just that.” Marshadow watched uncomfortably from the edge of the clearing. Dark Matter could feel it. “Need help?” Marshadow asked.
“Yes. Stay quiet.” Dark Matter tried to stand again. “That radiant power ripped a hole through the Voidlands. Though me. I can already tell that this will accelerate Kilo’s efforts to attack from the living world. The last thing I need is for them to be another thorn in my side.”
Speaking of thorns in his side, he sensed another presence drawing near. “What do you want.”
“Um, hi, Mister Matter.”
Dark Matter closed his eyes, wondering if dying would have been favorable just then, not that he could. Not on his own. He turned his attention to Anam, who was nibbling at his fingers as he always did when he was nervous.
“Are you okay?”
“I am never okay.”
“I—I mean, less okay than usual?”
“A hole was ripped through my spirit. How do you think I am?”
“Probably not very good…”
“Then don’t bother asking.”
“Was kinda obvious,” Marshadow pointed out. “Yer gonna wanna be quick. He’s all outta sorts.”
“Okay.” Anam approached. “I think you should try something different now.”
This song again. “No.”
“But you’re going to lose!” Anam motioned behind him. “You can’t beat Owen. I told you! And, and, well, and now you see why! All he has to do is touch someone and your Shadow Aura goes away!”
“Incorrect.” Dark Matter rolled his eyes. “My trivial Shadows are dispelled by touch, yes. However, thorough corruption is not. Given time, Owen won’t be able to cure someone with deep Shadows.” He gestured to Marshadow. “Soon, I will have one lower Legend fully corrupted in the Voidlands. Lugia in the living world will pull Kilo into the Voidlands next. That will be more than enough.”
“But now Owen found a way to disrupt that,” Anam said. “All you want is to be happy, right? That’s what you said?”
“Enough. I don’t need to hear this again.” Tiredly, Dark Matter got up. He was still pained, but it was fading, and the gashes in his spirit were finally healing. “Marshadow, let’s complete your Shadow Aura.”
“Y’know, I do wonder if yer friend there’s got a point,” Marshadow said. “If they beat me up, I’m gonna go right back ter their side. Sure, a touch ain’t gonna do it, but enough with that Radiant Aura and it’s gonna nullify.”
“Hmph, Radiant Aura. Just because someone has more of Necrozma’s power doesn’t mean it’s enough to nullify mine.” He stared at Anam. “After all, you couldn’t.”
Anam winced, looking down. “…Well… I’m not like Owen. He was a direct student.”
“Your mother stood no chance, either.” Dark Matter stared at Anam. “Ask her yourself. She was powerless against me.”
To this, the Goodra frowned, and he was no doubt listening to Madeline saying a few taunting or defiant words toward him. Words that Anam was wise not to repeat.
Of course, Anam didn’t know that he’d also caught Madeline at her weakest. Radiant power like that was a weakness he had to be cautious of. And, indeed, Owen was not at his weakest. He was too alert, that cursed Perceive, and now he was a Tree of Life?! When would it end?
Necrozma must have orchestrated this.
Someone gave Owen the idea. Owen was clever, but he shouldn’t have had any knowledge of the Tree to replicate its power. It had been erased. That memory hadn’t returned to him, had it?
“I still don’t think you need to fight,” Anam insisted.
“Why are you still here?” Dark Matter growled, walking away from town. “Leave. I need to assemble more of the mutants that died.”
“What if you talked to him just once?” Anam asked.
“Give me one reason why that will be worth my time.”
“Because if you work with everyone else, you can beat Alexander together. And maybe they can help you be happy!”
To this, Dark Matter stopped, but not because he was convinced. Ohh, no. He had been convinced of something else long ago.
“Anam.” He spun, facing him again. “I am not looking to be happy anymore. Joy is an illusion. Propped up by harming and exploiting others to keep what little you can. The world revolves around taking from others. It is rotten at its base. There is nothing to salvage. I am going to destroy it so something better can take its place. And sometimes, nothing is better. Literally nothing. That isn’t my goal, but it is an outcome I am willing to accept over how things are now. Do you understand?”
Throughout it all, Anam only frowned defiantly, like he always did, like he was disappointed in him, or that he knew better despite being eras younger. And he wasn’t going to leave him alone, either. Just get in the way until Dark Matter could get rid of that last speck of hope that he refused to let go.
“You need to try,” Anam lectured.
“Why? Because you’ll stop me if I don’t? I’ll send my army at you. You’ll never catch up.”
“Because you still can’t win without their help.”
“And how, precisely, do you think I will be able to so much as have them listen to me? It’s too late. I threatened their existence. I intend to destroy their world, just as your precious Necrozma intended.”
“You don’t mean that. It’s not the same. You—”
“I know myself and I know what I want. Why should I bother with anything else?”
Anam stepped forward, a hand to his chest. “There’s still hope, Mister M—”
“Go away.” Dark Matter stepped back. “Your hope is sickening, and I’m already in a vulnerable state.” The blackened rot around his face sizzled as if to demonstrate.
“Sorry…” Anam fidgeted.
“Er, if I c’n interject at all…”
Marshadow cleared his throat, standing on a fallen tree to gain some extra height. It wasn’t much.
“Did I just hear that Necrozma wanted to destroy th’ world? That ain’t right.”
“How little you know,” Dark Matter said, scoffing. “And telling that to Owen, who is surely learning about all the good Necrozma did?”
“He might be trying to hide it,” Anam said, frowning. “If… if you told Owen the truth, what if we can all work together so everyone is happy?”
“Again with happy.” Dark Matter snarled. “If I align with them, it will be solely to betray them when they’re no longer useful. They know this. You know this. Why bother?”
“Why do you have to be this way?” Anam blurted before he could control himself. He gasped at that, then looked down, like he was ashamed.
“Why indeed?” Dark Matter gave Anam a twisted, cruel grin, even if the smile was a little painful. “I have already accepted that I will not be able to change without the Hands. And I have learned that even with the Hands, true happiness will be beyond me.”
“But that’s not true! You don’t know that, we—”
“Enough.” He raised his arm. “I have an army to prepare.”
“Please,” Anam begged. “Just once. Tell him, um… all the lies that they’ve been keeping from him because of history being erased. You know what Owen dislikes, but I know what he likes! If you told him the truth, even if—"
“If I speak to him once,” Dark Matter said lowly, “will you shut up and leave me alone?”
“I…”
“Will you go away and let me assemble my army, put the world to its proper end, and you won’t complain?”
“…I’ll…” Anam hesitated again, and Dark Matter waited for that hope to go away. Just one moment. He wanted to see it. The light leaving his eyes, when was that going to happen? Dark Matter’s glow darkened in anticipation.
Finally, Anam continued. “If you talk to him, and he doesn’t listen… then I won’t ask you to try that anymore.”
Specific, how specific. He was still searching for ways around it. “Will you make it a Promise?”
Anam shrank away. “I—I don’t want to make another Promise with you.”
“Hmph. The last one is no longer valid anyway, now that I am known generally. Why not fill the void with a new one?”
When Anam didn’t answer, Dark Matter walked past him and toward town.
“I will ask,” he said, “once. And when he refuses, I will assemble my army, strike Kilo, and plunge everything into the void. You will lose hope, admit I am right, and then I shall personally send you into your eternal darkness.” The false Goodra turned his head back only slightly to see Anam balling his fist, trembling. “Does that count as a promise?”
Yet again, Anam didn’t say anything, but he could tell that he was trying to hold back tears. That would do.
“Stay there,” he told Marshadow, and then started on his way to Null Village.
<><><>
Owen had been slumbering peacefully in that strange half-sleep of torpor that prolonged time in a Poké Ball tended to put him in. He liked it. He was conscious, yet only barely, just enough to be aware, and yet so snugly asleep. That sort of pleasure wasn’t possible in the world of matter, where sleep passed in an instant and he had no memory of it but strange dreams.
Ever since that encounter to rescue Ire, and also to find his team and failing, Owen had been plagued by stranger dreams than usual. Fighting humans, blood on his claws, metallic tastes in his mouth, and Tim shouting. He saw flashes of a pink, small creature that he’d never seen before in his dreams, too.
It had been a few days since then. They hadn’t gone on any battles. Apparently, their adventure through the League was over, and Tim was laying low in a nearby human settlement for some news from that nice human, or the ones she worked for. But for once, Tim was walking through a forest. Owen liked forests. Though he didn’t like fighting in them.
Trees…
Simple thoughts flitted through his mind as he stared at different angles from his ball, no body to shift with, only a general, floating consciousness. He wondered how Tim was feeling. The pacing of his steps was different. Tim got like this when something was bothering him. Happened a lot lately.
“Okay,” Tim said, and he raised Owen’s capsule. “Time to come out.”
He didn’t feel like it, but he supposed he could. With a toss, Owen poured out of the ball and his body was back and heavy and solid. A gentle tingle and the fresh scent of the air hit him first, and then he spread his wings and stretched his body. Psychological, not that he truly needed to, and then he smiled down at Tim.
Wings. It was so nice to have wings.
But it was so strange to look down, rather than up, at his human, now. It didn’t feel right. Not yet.
Tim looked so small. Owen had gone through a growth spurt as a Charizard, going from smaller than average in his lowest form, to something much more towering. It must have meant that Tim was a strong partner to have, for Owen to grow so quickly. Why did his eyes look so defeated?
“It’s time for you to go,” Tim said, and the human couldn’t maintain eye contact with him for long.
“What?” Owen asked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you don’t need me anymore.” Still no eye contact.
Owen’s flame crackled. Tim wasn’t supposed to be this weak.
“You came with me to be stronger, right? To go on this adventure through the league?”
Yes, for years. That was part of the process. Sure, Tim was slower, but whatever program he worked with provided for a lot of time to get things done before it was over.
Owen narrowed his eyes. “Sure…”
“Well, I can’t go through it. The police got back to me. I can’t stay in Kanto anymore. I have… to go away from this region. I might not even be able to go back to Unova anymore, either. Ayame’s coming, too. We’re providing the police with everything we know and then we have to go away so they can’t get us. It’s for our safety. But they won’t recognize you like they would other humans. Your home is Kanto.”
Tim was speaking nonsense. They had to run because of a bunch of weak humans? He was giving up just like that?
“Why do you have to run? They aren’t strong. I killed one of them.”
“That was… that’s not how it works, Owen.” Tim shook his head. “There are others way stronger than him, with Pokémon so much worse. We can’t… we can’t beat that.”
“Why not? Why can’t we get stronger?”
“We don’t have time to get stronger.” Tim was shaking. “I—I made a huge mistake trying to go in there. It was reckless. We got lucky with that information. We don’t even know how we got it in the first place. I… I just, I wish I could go back where it never happened at all. Then I’d…”
“Then we never would have tried to get Duos and the others back.” Owen growled. “We wouldn’t have done that.”
“I guess not, but… That doesn’t change how things a-are now. I have to go away somewhere. You’re my only Pokémon and you have so many other things you can do here. I don’t. Not anymore. Just… stay here. Go back to the lab and find a better human, okay?”
“You’re being stupid,” Owen said, his voice rising into a crackling growl. “There isn’t a better human. I spent my time with you.”
“I’m not special, Owen! I’m just another trainer who failed the league! I wasn’t gonna win anyway, I couldn’t even get my fourth badge! Just find another human who’s better!”
“You may not be special, but you’re special to me,” Owen snarled. “You’re having a nightmare but you’re awake.”
“What? Owen, this is real, it’s going to be a nightmare if I…” Tim shook his head. “Oh… forget this.” He pulled out his capsule, and Owen was ready for Tim to withdraw him to continue the argument later. But then, Tin popped the ball open, hollow inside, and used his hands in an odd way to pull it more than it should have.
“What are you doing?” Owen asked, confused.
A horrible squeaking noise followed as the hinges of the ball creaked and cracked, until finally it snapped completely. Owen felt a strange jolt of energy in him, like something had been returned, some tiny thing that connected him to that ball. And it was back. It felt… wrong.
Small chips of the capsule and the two greater pieces fell to the grass.
“I’m… not your human anymore,” Tim said. “Find someone better. That’s… my instruction to you. Okay?”
He stared at the fragments for a long, long time. Tim didn’t move. Owen didn’t move. The wind didn’t move.
The Charizard’s body moved on its own. A single, swift motion. His wings flared, he lunged forward on a burst of heated tailwind that caught in his wings, and he slammed hard into the human, who hadn’t seen it coming. He pushed with flaming claws and let go; the human sailed across the clearing, rolled on the ground, and hit a tree with a gasp. His bag was left behind and his clothes were singed in places and torn in others. The tiniest of embers shrank and became small streams of smoke along parts of the fabric.
Little sniffles sounded from the clearing’s edge as Tim sat up. He didn’t stand. Slumped over, he looked even smaller than before.
Owen stomped over to the human’s bag and riffled through it. Found what he needed. He put the bag over his shoulder and approached Tim, setting it down nearby. Then, he tossed an unused, empty Poké Ball at the human’s forehead, where it landed in his lap, inert.
“What…” Tim picked it up dumbly.
“Humans are supposed to be smart,” Owen said. “You’re acting like a wild Pokémon. Dumb choices. I’m not your Pokémon anymore so I don’t have to follow what you said.”
Tim didn’t reply at first, but then he looked up. Their eyes met for the first time and Owen just realized, with a frozen pit forming in his stomach, just how tired he looked.
“You… said you were my Pokémon.” Tim stared with dull, yet wide eyes. “You never say that…”
To that, he flinched and glanced away. “…What of it? We’re each other’s.”
The wind picked up again, the breeze of the forest filling Owen’s senses. He sighed heavily and took a few more steps until he was by Tim’s side, then let his legs fall out from under him, landing with a ground-shaking thud.
“Why?” Tim said. “Why do you want to stay? I failed you. I…”
“Because I don’t think you did. And I want to go with you. That’s all.” He snorted. “If these are the decisions you make without me, then you need me anyway.”
That earned a small laugh. Tim played with the button on the empty ball a few times, like he was contemplating it, entertaining the idea. Of course he was.
Owen wrapped a wing around the human’s shoulders and pulled inward. Tim didn’t resist. He rested against his scales. The human’s cheeks were wet.
“It’s going to be a strange place,” Tim said. “It’s a region that doesn’t even use Poké Balls. It’ll be very, very far… You might not be able to see your parents if you wanted to. Maybe messages, if you’re lucky, but…”
Owen felt some conflict there. But his parents were strong. He would find a way, one day. But for Tim… No. He couldn’t lose Tim.
“That’s fine,” Owen said. “They’ll let me in?”
“Yeah.” Tim fiddled with the ball. “I might have to break it again when we get there, or just keep it someplace else. It’s just not something they do there.”
“I hope I can keep it at home,” Owen said. “I like being in one.”
“Yeah.” Tim laughed again. He seemed brighter. “Yeah, I hope so, too…”
And they didn’t say anything more for a long while. The wind spoke between them, and Owen listened to it and the leaves and the hum of his flame. They had no idea what would be waiting for them in that new region, but somehow, he felt like it was going to be just fine.
<><><>
I see you.
“Gah!” Owen stood upright, feeling small and frail again. He looked at his hands. Charmander.
Where was he? How did he get there? Everything felt like a haze. He remembered becoming an apple, and then a stretch of darkness and flashes of aura, and then a tree, and more dreams of Kanto, and—
And suddenly he had arms, and legs, and a tail, and—he was standing in the middle of a small clearing in a thin forest. The sky was a bright blue, and that alone mesmerized him. It had been so long since he’d stood under a sky that wasn’t a blotched red. Unfortunately, none of it felt real.
“Ahem.”
Owen spun around, arms tensed and in front of him for defense. It was a Treecko, with her arms crossed and head tilted left. Behind her was an expanse of trees that only went a few stone tosses away before dropping off into a black haze.
“A-are you Mhynt?” Owen asked.
“Are you Owen?”
“M-maybe.”
“Then, maybe I am,” Mhynt replied, and her eyes trailed from Owen’s face to something just above him.
Owen looked up and saw nothing, but realized just then that there was a subtle weight on his head. He felt around and grasped something thin and plant-like. A stem. An apple stem.
With an irritated frown, he tugged lightly at it and, like one of his feathery leaf-scales as a Grass Guardian, it popped out. Owen winced—that hurt, and he inspected the apple stem curiously. It was about the length from his finger to his lower wrist.
And the weight returned.
“It just grew back, didn’t it?”
“Indeed.”
Owen tossed the stem in his hands away, never taking his eyes off of Mhynt. “Is this some kind of dream?”
“Shared headspace,” Mhynt said. “A psychic link.”
“How and why?”
Mhynt answered with a wry smile. “You’re taking this well.”
“Please,” Owen said, almost begging, “I have been tossed around so much that I just want answers.”
“I know.” Mhynt stepped forward, but Owen took a step back in response, arms still tense. She looked, in a flash of emotion, hurt. But then her expression slipped back into amused neutrality. “I am here to tell you to give yourself up to Alexander peacefully,” she said. “We will be able to defeat Dark Matter together, therefore saving all of Kilo from its otherwise inevitable demise.”
“Alexander.” The name of his father—well, now that he thought about it, wasn’t it just Alex? He never used ‘Alexander’ from the fragments of memory he had. “Isn’t he… evil?”
“Very. But he can be reasoned with. And he is better than Dark Matter’s nihilistic goals.”
“What is Alexander’s goal?”
“Power. A way to escape the Voidlands. Is that not too far from your goals?”
“One of them isn’t,” Owen said lowly.
“You don’t want power?” Mhynt tilted her head, quizzical.
“Not really.”
“Then you are happy to let people order you around?”
“N—”
That was true. The only reason people started taking him seriously, that he could start making his own decisions, was because of the leverage he held over them. The knowledge they had withheld, one way or another, was the one thing that kept him in line. Now that he knew how much they wanted him—for his mutant nature, for his Guardianship, or now, for his ties to Necrozma—he was able to use that as a bargaining chip.
“I guess I need some power,” Owen admitted. “But I don’t want it. I can need something and not want it.”
“That, you can.” Mhynt looked like she was conceding, but Owen knew she had coaxed that answer. She was clever. She was honest. He liked that. Something about that made him feel like he could trust at least the words she was saying… even if she might be omitting things like everyone else.
And she wasn’t going away, but she wasn’t talking, either.
“Was there anything else?” Owen asked.
“If you oppose Alexander, he will burn your new form to the ground,” Mhynt stated. The way she presented it was not as a threat, but as a fact, the same way one would warn a Magikarp not to traverse the desert.
“I’m working on a way to come back,” Owen said, “and then he’ll have to chase me down anyway. You have Hakk under your control, don’t you? You have power, too.”
“I do.”
More tense silence followed. She didn’t advance; Owen didn’t retreat. There was nowhere to go, but Owen had a feeling that, if he wished, he could break this psychic link and send her away.
Yet, he didn’t. He didn’t want to. Was that her doing? No… By now, Owen was far too familiar with the sense of his mind being altered by another. This was coming from himself.
“Sorry,” Owen said. “I’m not interested. You opened with a threat that if I refused, I’d be killed. I already got that once from Arceus. I’m not going to fall for it now.”
The Treecko stared, an expression as rigid as Valle’s stone form. Unreadable. Owen wondered if, had he access to Perceive, he’d’ve been able to sense anything at all.
Finally, she closed her eyes. “I will check with you later,” she said, “to see if you change your opinion.”
And then, she disappeared, and the world around Owen dissolved with her.
<><><>
Palkia and Dialga had flown off with the rest of the team to investigate Nevren in the hole in the sky. Zena couldn’t care less for him. Several of the others departed after seeing nothing more to do now that Mhynt was gone. Gahi’s body had left with Trina to try to confront Mhynt while she was weakened—she had looked to be in pain when the tree first sprouted.
But someone had to stand guard by the tree in case something went wrong. Zena volunteered for that with Eon, who was now a Trevenant on the opposite side of the huge trunk that took up nearly the entire width of the street. Zena’s long, long body didn’t even make up a quarter of the tree’s circumference.
“Oh, Owen.” Zena sighed. “The messes you get yourself into.”
She’d gotten flashes of memories for a while of her time with him. She remembered how desperately lonely she’d felt, and couldn’t help but feel shame at how she’d used Owen to satiate that. She wondered if that was why Owen wanted to just be friends. All things considered… it made a lot of sense. And she wasn’t sure if wanting to reconnect was more of that loneliness, or something genuine.
She brought a ribbon to her forehead and brushed aside more of the prismatic leaves that constantly fell from the sky. And, indeed, it was a sky—a starry night. It almost felt like a true nighttime. Several Pokémon left their homes to stand on their rooftops to get a better look. Others still looked like they were finding ways to climb the tree—though Zena made sure they didn’t get themselves hurt, as did Eon. There was little to do about the flying Pokémon, though, who sat atop the tree like it was their new home.
Zena rested her head against one of the roots, each one thicker than her body at its widest point. There was a little flower with a black center facing her. She smiled a little. It reminded her vaguely of Owen’s tail.
“How pretty,” she commented. “I’m not sure if you can hear me, Owen, but you’ve really done something incredible. And… I’d like to also thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
“I remember how I was toward you. And now I understand why you wanted us to just be friends until I got my memories back. Even though the feelings I had for you were… undeniable… Oh, how do I phrase it…” She sighed, tapping her horn against the trunk. “Those feelings could have come from someplace… unhealthy. That’s what you sensed, wasn’t it? And yet everyone else seemed to think we were such a cute couple.” She rolled her eyes. “I can only see it as codependency. I can’t believe I didn’t see it in the moment. So… embarrassing. It’s amazing what a fresh perspective can do, with losing my memory of it for a while.
“Mm… now that I think about it… That was probably in bad taste to you, wasn’t it? I can’t imagine the things you’re remembering right now. That new perspective might be pained from how much you’d left behind.” She smiled sadly at the flower. “Memories can be so hard. But being without them feels worse…”
She’d gone on for a while. But she had a feeling Owen could hear her. Hear her very much, in fact… She was getting an odd feeling from that flower.
Was it… had it always been facing her in that way?
“Owen?” Zena asked.
She tilted her head. The flower tilted in kind. She went in the opposite way. The flower did the same. Feeling a little silly, she bobbed her head. The flower mirrored her.
“Stars above,” Zena whispered, “Owen! You’re—er. You’ve gotten a new look.”
The flower’s stem wiggled.
“But you can’t talk. Well. That’s okay. Er, I’m sorry if what I said was… embarrassing. Goodness, this reminds me of when we first met. Talking to a river, not really knowing where I was, but that I was listening, hm?”
It was hard to read a flower’s expression.
“…I hope, if we can find a way to restore you, we can start things over again, Owen. I have enough memories to know where I went wrong.”
To this, the flower tilted itself, as if confused.
“You… you are still interested, right?”
The flower made a hesitant bob, but then wriggled about, like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t.
Zena frowned, anxiety eating at her mind. “W-well, I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions. It’s okay if you aren’t—really. I’ll respect that, if you felt I had been too needy. We only knew each other for a few moons, after all. Barely got started! And, er, I’m certain we’d gone into things too quickly for our own good. Largely because I urged you. You barely knew. And, er… Owen, are you all right?”
Owen hadn’t stopped flailing for a while, to the point where one of the petals had fallen off and he still didn’t stop. Only then did she realize the flower was staring at something behind her.
She held her breath and concentrated a fixed point of light just in front of her mouth. Then, she spun around and hesitated for only a split-second to verify what it was. She saw Anam, but his eyes were dark, and that was all she needed.
The Hydro Pump slammed into the Goodra’s chest, leaving ice-cold water in a wide spray that mixed with blackened slime and sent the Goodra himself back a few paces. Zena didn’t let up until he was several body lengths away.
“Eon!” Zena shouted. “Eon, get over here!”
“What? What’s happening?” Eon’s voice was distant from the other side of the tree.
“You know”—that was anything but Anam’s voice—“trying to fight me is pointless. This is my domain.”
“You stay away from Owen,” Zena hissed. “I’ll fight you until there’s nothing left if it means—”
“Enough.” Dark Matter casually waved toward her. From his palm came a beam of darkness, but Zena, reflexively, swatted at it with her ribbon. It flew high and over the rooftops, leaving a cold sting where it touched, but nothing more.
This seemed to surprise Dark Matter enough that he didn’t fire another immediately. Instead, he glanced toward the tree. He lifted his hand and took aim, but Zena was faster, blasting his arm clean off with another Hydro Pump. Dark Matter stumbled, hissing. “Pest.”
“Don’t think you can get to him with us around,” Zena replied breathlessly. That second Hydro Pump was her strongest yet, and all it did was stagger him.
Eon had finally arrived, quickly shifting to a Goodra’s form. “What—”
Dark Matter used his remaining hand to fire a blast toward Eon. It landed squarely in his chest and sent him tumbling back, a black ember smoldering where it had struck. The air cracked upon impact.
“No!” Zena hissed and prepared another, but a hasty beam of indigo fire was faster. It struck Dark Matter on the side of his head.
Eon, on one arm and clutching at a burned chest, forced himself back to his feet. “Not so strong here, are you?” Eon grunted. “This isn’t your domain anymore.” But he didn’t try to attack; he looked too hurt to try something again.
Dark Matter clicked and narrowed his eyes, calculating something. Zena tensed, trying to focus on her peripherals for signs of wraiths, but none came. It was just Dark Matter. Owen… would he warn them if Marshadow was nearby?
“I can feel your paranoia,” Dark Matter said. “I came alone.”
“Then we can kill you right here.”
“Cute.” Dark Matter took a step forward and Zena readied another Hydro Pump. Dark Matter shifted his weight to one foot. Zena felt an odd coldness beneath her coils. Gasping, she rolled out of the way and narrowly dodged an uprising plume of darkness that raged like a black inferno. A few embers left minor rot-scorches on her scales; she countered with another Hydro Pump.
This time, Dark Matter made another motion with his left arm, like an upward point, dredging up some great power from the abyss. Zena felt another cold chill beneath her and rolled away again, but this time countless threads of darkness sprouted around her and bound her to the ground. She shouted and aimed for his face again.
“You know,” Dark Matter said, “I’m disappointed at how effective Shadow Hold is becoming.”
“Is that—what you call this technique?”
“No, it’s what I call my mother.” Dark Matter reached toward Zena. “Now hush.”
Zena was running out of energy. She struggled to escape and barely managed to get her tail free. She twisted her form and dug it into the ruined ground—loose dirt and dust. Perfect. With a lurch, she heaved a dusty clump of the ground into Dark Matter’s face. It spattered against his gooey front and directly into his eyes, which didn’t blink. It only paused Dark Matter briefly while Zena squeezed halfway out of the black threads.
“These eyes are fake, you know.”
He squeezed his fist and the threads tightened. Zena yelped and tried to break out, but now they threatened to snap her spine if she tried resisting any further. She couldn’t move. And then, Dark Matter touched her side. And yet… nothing happened.
“Now, I’m going to talk to Owen,” Dark Matter said. “Anam said I should. You trust him, don’t you?”
“I’m beginning to wonder,” Zena hissed. “How long has he been working for you?”
“…You aren’t under my control.”
“It seems I’m not,” Zena replied, glancing at where Dark Matter had touched. A trace of shadowy energy was there, struggling to maintain itself, but it evaporated. Zena had a feeling it was because of Owen.
“Then be quiet.”
“Owen can’t talk to you,” Zena said.
“I will talk to him as long as—”
“No,” Zena said, glaring. “He literally can’t talk to you. He’s a tree. I was speaking to him with—”
Dark Matter shoved his hand into the bark. Zena shouted, but the Shadowy threads pinned her to the ground. Dark Matter stared into the tree, completely still.
Owen, Zena said, only able to watch, hang in there. I’ll get him away…
<><><>
The Charmander stood in the small, ethereal clearing with a black sky and trees that seemed to light up on their own. Everything towered over him. Golden balls of light speckled the air, floating like Illumise in the summertime. The trees only went a few layers deep before falling into an endless abyss, but those that were there had full, vibrant leaves and a dim glow of blue aura.
Across the way, on the opposite end of the glade within nothing, was a Goodra with dark slime and a blank expression.
“Hello.”
Owen was trapped. Dark Matter had somehow infiltrated his realm. Was this a vision? Was he already claimed by Dark Matter, or was this him trying to seize control of the tree?
The moment Dark Matter had touched the tree, he’d been enveloped in cold, like dead fingers wrapping around his skull. And now he was here.
“Hello,” Owen replied back, not sure if being polite was the best route. Or if anything was. Maybe it didn’t matter anymore.
Dark Matter narrowed his eyes, then raised his hand. The moment he saw darkness forming, Owen crossed his arms and narrowly blocked a beam of Shadows, and then another, and then another. Each one made Owen buckle a little more, the Protect shield flickering and fading, before it finally gave way after the fifth one struck. The sixth landed squarely on his chest; the blast sent him skidding backward and over the abyss.
He flailed, then landed on solid ground—new ground that had conjured itself where there had once been nothing. Dark Matter stood on his own island of the forest, which was now filled with dead, leafless trees like the ones in the Voidlands.
“Now you know that I cannot harm you.” Dark Matter’s voice carried as if they were face to face.
Owen felt his chest. No pain, no wound, not even a trace of darkness. “And what if you could?” He stepped closer, and when he did, each step made the forest behind him disappear, and new forest appear in front of him.
“Then it would have been very convenient for me. And lucky. But I am not a lucky person. Some would hardly call me a person.”
As Dark Matter spoke, their islands touched, and Owen’s trees looked a lot less bright, while Dark Matter’s trees gained some life and leaves.
“Then you really came here to talk.” Owen stopped after he felt they were at a speaking distance, even if it was apparently unnecessary. He didn’t like any of this. This was someone who had taken Amia away from him, who stole Zena’s memories, who threatened to plunge all of Kilo into darkness.
“Tell me,” Dark Matter said, “why Anam thinks it would have been a good idea to speak with you.”
That wasn’t expected. “Anam told you that? How do I know you aren’t lying?”
“Because you can easily ask him later.”
Owen tried to think of a way to counter that. Could Dark Matter have found a way to control Anam? No, because then he would have found a way to control him, too… Was Anam dead? No, that would prove everything was a lie, and Owen didn’t plan on doing anything until he talked to Anam anyway.
“I would be a fool to expect you to believe anything I say without proof.”
“Right. Okay. Look, I don’t know why you want to talk to me, but if you’re asking for some kind of deal, or a Promise, I’m not interested. I’m pretty sure everyone has approached me about a Promise at this point. I’m not doing it.”
“I don’t intend to,” Dark Matter said. “Whatever I tell you is pointless anyway. You won’t believe me. I only want to reclaim the Voidlands and my proper power.”
“So you can kill everyone.”
“Yes.”
Owen couldn’t believe how audacious this thing was. The little Charmander’s tail flicked, trying to find some hidden meaning, some other motive, but it didn’t make sense.
“Is that not what you wanted?” Dark Matter asked. “Necrozma wanted the same.”
“…That’s not at all something Necrozma would say.”
“I now know what Necrozma has hidden from you.” Dark Matter shook his head. “Fine. What I tell you is pointless until you come to me.”
“I don’t plan on it. You’re… trying to destroy the world—how can I allow that? I’m a Heart. I’m supposed to protect the—”
“Stop.”
“I don’t think I will!” Owen’s tail sparked and he took a threatening step forward, which he realized the moment he did was a silly gesture for his size. “Get out of my tree! I don’t know what Anam told you, but I’m not going to negotiate with someone like you! As a Heart, I—”
“I will not”—Dark Matter shot a beam of shadows into Owen’s face, which was parried by another Protect—“listen to you prattle about Hearts. I have suffered through the headspace of your leader for five hundred cycles. I do not have the patience to deal with your disgusting, misguided, and futile ambitions. But that is one thing I’ll point out. Anam sent me, your leader. That implies that he thinks what I have to say is worthwhile, despite everything. Can you argue against this?”
Owen was starting to doubt Anam’s sanity. He really had been harboring this dark entity within him all this time. All his power, and that power of rot, was that Dark Matter? To disguise it as the Ghost Orb’s power… What more did Anam hide? And why?
Since Owen was silent, Dark Matter continued without resistance. “He told me you enjoy the truth. I have been nothing but honest. There is no point in lying because you will just ask Anam later.”
It was easy to recognize that Dark Matter spoke meticulously, logically, in ways that did not rely on Owen having faith in Dark Matter’s credibility. Owen could… appreciate that. But he was still cautious as he listened.
“I know that you are regaining your memories. You must have a lot of them by now.”
“Of Kanto. And little bits from before I became a mutant, but after I was in Kilo.”
“Since you’re a tree, you have a lot of time to think about things. I want you to think about a place called Orre. Maybe later, you can ask for more of the full story. Because apparently, I’m the only one bothering to reveal it to you.”
That term made Owen’s chest flutter and he didn’t know why. “What about Orre?”
“They’re prying me out of the tree. I don’t have much time left.” Dark Matter’s form faded into a hazy, black cloud. “Recall your memories at the end of Kanto. Think about Necrozma. And think about his only wish. …Hmph. Chances are, those memories are sealed, and not by me.” He was barely a presence, now, but his voice echoed. “I’ll be waiting just west of Null Village. You’ll find me.”
The world around Owen was dissolving as he became more aware of the village around his wooden body.
“Start with Orre. Learn the truth about why you are here at all. I will unlock the rest of the answers that are sealed away…”
--
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading up to this point! I have a few announcements to make. First, the next chapter is going to be delayed… because it’s Special Episode 8! Where we will finally see the conclusion to Owen’s time in the human world, and just what it was that brought him to Kilo. This episode will be published on the June 20.
While that’s going on, I’d like to take some time to thank my beta readers, Ambyssin and Shadow of Antioch, authors of Guiding Light and Path of Valor, and PMD: Rebirth respectively. All incredible stories that are definitely worth reading! They have been an invaluable resource for these chapters and will continue to be going forward.
Additionally, if you’d like to chat about Hands of Creation, or would like to speak with me or even other PMD authors, I have a discord server dedicated to that topic right here. Feel free to join and find other stories to read while waiting for HoC to update! The link to the discord server is in my signature.
Thanks to everyone for reading, and I hope you’re looking forward to the next chapter soon!