Sorry for taking so long to bring out this out, it's been difficult to write this chapter for a multitude of reasons. This chapter title is not like the others in that there aren't multiple meanings, no double entendres, and no clever usage of quotes or phrases. It is simply the title to the song that my friend Jay loved before he passed away. I've wanted to dedicate a chapter to him for the longest time, something epic, but for what I have in mind is really far away right now. For the time being, I just felt this would be appropriate for now.

I had to listen to "The Places Where Wishes Come True 2" about a dozen times on youtube to get myself in the right mood to write this. Also, a huge thanks to my betas Jakayrta and REV6Pilot for their patience in going over this gigantic chapter, it's the longest one I've ever written.

In Memory of my friend Jay

August 21

A flurry of punches sliced through the air in rapid succession. To the human eye, it would appear as if everything past Blaziken's elbows had disappeared; the scalding waves of heat that shimmered before him could have easily been mistaken for his punches, but by the time the one watching noticed it, the Pokémon's arms would already be visible just before his chest.

Miltank crossed her arms in agitation as she glanced up once more into the distance of the crater's expanse. Despite her best efforts, she could not see the other edge of the crater. How Roserade, Clefable, and the alpha Houndoom had made it out of the explosion was beyond her. Not that she was going to complain, of course.

Her milk reserves had run dry, having used it to heal the wounded Houndoom, Glaceon, and Blaziken. It would take her a full day and a good night's sleep to replenish it. She'd asked May's starter to refrain from any kind of strenuous activities – his wounds were the worst by far, his leg having suffered a comminuted fracture in addition to the other broken bones and tissue damage, as well as the stress from overexertion. Had they found him any later, it might've been too late to save him. She had used the last drops of her milk on him, fearing greatly that it wouldn't be enough to stabilize his condition. Thankfully, she had been proven wrong.

She had gone to check on him the morning after, only to find that he had already left to train in the woods… Or what was left of it. After combing the forest, silently fuming all the while, she eventually found him below ground level at the crater's center.

If Blaziken noticed Miltank roll towards him, he gave no sign of it, seemingly lost in his world of training. Miltank watched him hop from one leg to the other, launching a fist and pulling it back before he landed a hit on his imaginary opponent.

She shook her head and sighed as she watched him shadowbox. "You must have hit your head or something. I thought I told you to refrain from strenuous activities," she said in a normal tone, "and THIS IS STRENUOUS!" she shouted.

"Relax, I'm fine," Blaziken assured her, eyes focused on the foe only he could see.

"Oh really?" she replied skeptically. She walked over to him and delivered a swift kick to his leg.

The starter's resolve to fight through the discomfort his training brought on dissolved instantly as he fell over, clutching the appendage. Miltank's stern gaze followed him as he writhed across the floor, yelling in agony.

"What was that for?"

"I'm helping you!"

"How is kicking my injured leg helping?" he barked angrily, leaning into the sloping walls of the crater.

"Compared to what you were planning on doing, it was nothing! Was it so difficult to stay in the cave and rest?"

"I can't afford to sit around! I need to get stronger, for May's sake. For everyone's sake," Blaziken replied dejectedly, averting his gaze and looking at the blackened soil below his feet.

Miltank sighed, plopping herself onto the ground a few feet across from him and leaning into the slanted incline of the newly formed basin.

"I was able to fix your leg to a certain extent… But it seems stupidity and stubbornness are beyond my healing capabilities. You're not the only one fighting, you know. We have an entire team back at the cave, along with the Houndoom. You don't have to carry everything on your shoulders."

Blaziken's eyes lifted off the ground and met hers for a moment. He averted his gaze once more. "When I fought on the outskirts of that city, the way-"

"-Goldenrod. The city was called Goldenrod," Miltank added stiffly, remembering the countless times her master had proudly announced herself as the city's gym leader to their newest contender and victim.

A title now left behind in the smoldering ruins of a once proud city, she mused.

"… Right," Blaziken replied, feeling guilty. He knew he had unearthed some painful memories, which she had probably buried deep. She had lost her home, her sisters… And with a single glance at the pink haired effigy that followed the group, it was easy to determine that the one had once been her master and friend was obviously on that list. "The way I fought those bugs, the way I killed them… It was so easy. I enjoyed it, every second of it. I felt… unstoppable. I felt like I had more power in one finger than I'd had in my entire body ever since I'd hatched… Before all of this started. Then, when the Houndoom surrounded us, I'd thought, and had no shadow of a doubt, that we were dead."

Miltank saw her companion's fists clench and shake as he spoke. He was visibly angry, but more than that, he was frustrated. "I felt so useless. I wondered where all the power I'd felt had gone. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help the others and their trainers; hell, I couldn't protect even my own trainer. I couldn't even protect myself." Blaziken held his head in his hands as his body shook in the throes of an emotional quake. "Then Banette and Cacturne came to me, and d'ya know what they said?"

Miltank shook her head as he paused, realizing he couldn't see her do it, and waited patiently for him to tell her. Despite having been one of the three that stood before their trainers at that time, she hadn't bothered to move closer and hear the conversation that went on between Banette, Cacturne, and Blaziken. All she could remember was the paralyzing fear that had her rooted to the ground and the deafening beat of her heart, which seemed to have had migrated to her ears.

"They said the Houndoom wanted to talk to who was in charge!" Blaziken finally replied, his voice oozing complete and utter disbelief in the very words he had uttered. "They didn't go to their trainer; they didn't even come to mine! They came to me! I mean, when did everyone just decide I was in charge? What did I do that earned me that right?"

"You can't tell me it didn't feel nice to have them think of you as the leader," Miltank replied gently, hoping she could calm him down through the tone of her voice. She watched some of the tension dissipate from Blaziken's body in a sigh of relief, as the hands that once held his head slid across his feathers and rested on his knees.

"I didn't think I'd deserved it. At that moment I really didn't want that, to be responsible for all these lives… I didn't want that. I'd rather it be anyone but me."

"What if it couldn't have been anyone but you?"

To this his head rose, an incredulous stare meeting her serious gaze.

"Don't look at me like that. Who else could it have been if not you?" Miltank replied sternly, as if he were a petulant child.

"I don't know!" he yelled. "Maybe Roserade…" he suggested feebly.

"Roserade, you say? Look at her: she's too high strung. Banette was too unstable to be in charge of much of anything. Cacturne must've thought you were the best choice, better than himself. He must've seen something in you that made you a better leader than him. That was a life and death moment for all of us; he wasn't about to cast off the responsibility of being the leader simply because he didn't want to deal with the things that come with the title."

"What do I have that he doesn't? What do I have that any of you don't?"

"For one," Miltank offered, counting with her paw, "your type combination can easily beat more than half of our group. Secondly, from what I've heard from the others, the amount of Pokémon you killed easily surpasses the combined amount we wiped out."

"So, my kill count automatically earns me the position," Blaziken mumbled bitingly.

Miltank ignored his tone. "No. It means you're stronger than us, that you have the power to protect us."

He didn't say a thing. She decided to continue. "You were able to make a decision back in the cave when none of us would."

"And look where it got us," Blaziken growled, his arms lifting briefly to the sides, calling attention to the crater they were in.

"If Banette had made the decision and gone on his own, I don't think anyone would've followed him. Believe it or not, you command a lot of respect – not only from your party, but also the others. If you hadn't decided as quickly as you had, the casualties would've been a lot higher."

The male remained silent, eventually breaking eye contact with her to stare at the infinitely more interesting specks of scorched soil at his feet. He didn't need to say anything; he was becoming accustomed to knowing when he was beaten. An eerie silence filled the crater to the brim like water, Blaziken apparently content with stretching the quiescence for as long as possible.

"Why are you training here of all places?" Miltank broke the silence, motioning at their blackened surroundings.

"… It's a reminder, of what I'm up against. I thought I was strong, you guys think I'm strong, but this helps me see how weak I really am. It reminds me of the tougher things that will come."

"Tougher than this?"

"Remember what Banette told us? Before we came there was something that scared the Houndoom senseless. When the Golem challenged the Houndoom for this territory, they answered the challenge without fear."

Miltank nodded. He went on. "Even when they were getting decimated, they didn't run to call us for help. Whatever the Pokémon that came before us was, it was probably as strong as a hundred of that last Golem, if not more. Do I need to remind you of that Pokémon we ran away from? We couldn't even get face to face with it; hell, I doubt we could've gotten any closer than what we already were.

"The wild Pokémon of the area ran away even when they had the clear advantage over us! The only thing that was left for us to do was run, and even then we barely escaped. Even Protect didn't work against it!Protect! Which if you remember can block almosteverything! We lost Flygon to that thing! He was ground, for crying out loud, it shouldn't have affected him in the least, let alone blow him to cinders!"

Only then Blaziken realized he was standing over Miltank, whom winced whenever he bellowed another word as he shouted his lungs out. He backed away; full of regret, filling in the groove his body had formed in the wall.

"You don't need to remind me. I saw enough of my life burn to the ground to carve it into my memory for as long as I live!" she spat.

"Sorry," was all Blaziken could manage, knowing he had been extremely insensitive to his healer's feelings. "But now you see now why I'm here, why I need to get stronger? Whatever strength I had was only good enough to help May win contests. Nothing nearly as grave as this."

Miltank settled down. "Well, I want to help you, but I can only do that if you help yourself. You need to wait until I can heal you entirely, otherwise you're just gonna end up hurting yourself and hindering your ability to get stronger. While you wait, maybe you could talk to the others. They might have some advice that could help. You might even be able to spar-"

"-No. There's no way I'm sparring with you guys."

"Well, why not?"

"If you guys really feel that I'm the strongest, then sparring with you would only injure you people. To be honest, before we met the Ursaring, when we were resting in the cave, I was scared. I was scared of my own strength. Everything's different now, and I don't know if it can ever be the way it was before. I can't let a single blow connect unless I want to kill, or at least disable. And that happening to any of you… No, I can't even think of it."

The kickboxer closed his eyes. "That's why I have to train alone; I can't risk it. We've lost too many friends just to get to this point. We can't afford to lose anyone more, even more so if we ourselves cause it."

Blaziken watched Miltank lift herself off the ground with a sigh, making her way up the crater with her back to him.

After a few steps, she stopped and turned her head back towards him. "The more I listen to you, the more I trust that if you tried, if you wanted to, you would make a great leader for this team."

Blaziken was left to watch her procession up the hill, debating whether he should continue training.

Before he lost sight of her, Miltank threw him a warning glare, and he decided that one kick had been enough.

It hadn't been difficult to snatch Cacturne's Pokéball from Harley and release him just outside of the cave. The burst of light revealed the conscious, but woozy, Pokémon, who was instinctively on alert, needles protruding from every inch of his body.

Fatigue had yet to leave his body, so he knew that a full day hadn't passed yet. The only reason he could think as to why they would summon him before he was fully rested was that they needed his help in eliminating a hostile they couldn't contend with themselves.

What he wasn't expecting was a row of familiar faces that met his gaze. His tension melted at the sight, the spikes quickly retracting, and he took on a more tired, but more casual, stance.

It wasn't until he looked into their eyes that he realized something was wrong. Roserade, Clefable, and rest of combined party wore melancholic expressions, their eyes averted. A small group of Houndoom stood behind Alpha. Little did Cacturne know it was all that remained of the Houndoom pack.

"What happened?" the scarecrow asked, receiving only silence as his answer.

It was in that awkward silence that he could hear the wind blow through the trees, take in the tranquility of the scene, and hear himself think. It was in that brief and quiet moment that realization hit and his eyes began to widen, his heart plummeting. It was too quiet.

"Where's Banette?" he asked softly.

Without a word the Houndoom parted, a straight path being set before him and a bundle of gray rags that lay on the ground behind them.

"A group of Golem attacked the Houndoom yesterday in an attempt to claim this territory. We were able to eliminate them, but…" Roserade began, finding it difficult to put the experience and memory to words.

Cacturne slowly made his way past the Houndoom, Roserade's next words drowned out in his ears. Part of him couldn't quite grasp the concept, like it was made of an evanescent smoke. Words had abandoned him, leaving the air trapped inside his throat. His gaze drifted upwards, taking in the endless azure expanse of the sky. There were no clouds to shade them from the sun.

The warmth wasn't too overbearing, lessened by the cool breeze that blew over them. Every leaf on every tree gleamed a vibrant emerald, the forest around them seemingly teeming with life. The air smelled fresh after the heavy rains, with no humidity to bother them. On all accounts it was a beautiful day with a wonderful climate.

A perfect day. And Cacturne loathed every second of it.

It was unfair. How could everything be so animated and wonderful when his friend had died? Logic and reason were cast aside, making room for his grief and sorrow. He knew it shouldn't have affected him as much, because he knew, even before all of this madness had begun, that the world was unfair. The deaths of his teammates and comrades only solidified that statement. He knew how unreasonable it was to hate how the day was because of Banette's death, but ultimately he didn't care.

It was easy to pin the blame on the Golem, but they were already dead. They could no longer give him the satisfaction of wringing every ounce of pain from them; make them beg and wish for death until he finally deemed them worthy of receiving it. All he had was Banette's body, and the sorrow that came with knowing he would be absent from their lives for the rest of their days.

Cacturne could no longer distract himself from the truth with his surroundings, gazing back down at the marionette's body. Each step he took defined more and more of Banette's features, enough to the point where Cacturne could not longer delude himself into believing they were simply a pile of dirty rags.

The sound of crushed grass beneath Cacturne's weight was practically deafening to the others, his legs buckling just before Banette's body. Clefable watched as Roserade broke away from her, hesitantly advancing towards the other grass Pokémon.

Banette was quiet, still, and for the first time since he had joined Harley's group, he looked peaceful. It contradicted everything Cacturne had known about the haunted toy, and yet one thing he recognized stood out to him, one thing had remained. Banette's signature smile had been left intact.

'That's so like him. Even now, he's smiling like an idiot,' Cacturne thought to himself, knowing he couldn't trust himself to voice his thoughts out loud without breaking down. Cacturne's vision began to blur as he slammed his fist into the ground, feeling the soft and tender texture of Roserade's petals on his shoulder, offering the only support she could provide.

Questions swarmed his mind en masse. 'Why didn't they wake me up for me to fight with them? Would I have been of any use as tired as I was? Could I have stopped this? Could this have been me? He knew the answers made perfect sense, answers he already knew, but in the end, none of it mattered.

It was different from Wigglytuff's death, where there was nothing left to bury, or like Ariados, where he knew for certain that he was dead with just a glance. But Banette was right in front of him, intact, silent, and still. If he didn't know any better, he could've sworn Banette was nothing more than fainted.

He truly wished it all to be a cruel joke Banette had concocted, and everyone was just playing along. But even Banette's humor had limits, and a joke of his magnitude would be too much for him, if only because keeping a straight face would have proven too difficult for him. The haunted toy could laugh and joke about the darkest topics till the end of time, but like Ariados had proven, when it came to something personal, there were certain things even he couldn't find any humor in.

He found himself wondering how Harley would take it, if only him to try and keep from breaking down himself. How would his coordinator react at waking up, only to find out one of his Pokémon was dead? The thought of it being only Octillery and him from now on was unbearable.

Clefable moved over to join Roserade at Cacturne's side, now shuddering with every restrained sob. The sight of Cacturne, the very same Cacturne who had bravely stayed behind to fight off the onslaught of Ursaring, now reduced to tears, made her eyes begin to water as well. He held himself up with shaking arms, tears trickling over the corpse of his friend. Glaceon found herself beginning to tear up as well, surprised to find her tears weren't freezing.

"I'm sorry Cacturne. We felt it was only right that you and your coordinator saw him before we buried him, unless you two wanted to do something different," Roserade said softly, reminding herself that she had already shed enough tears to be steeled for this moment.

It was a while before Cacturne trusted himself to speak out loud without his voice cracking in front of the others. "Could you believe the last thing I said to him, the last thing I asked him…was not to laugh as much?" he choked out, turning away from the broken doll. Roserade gave him a sympathetic look, her arm never leaving his shuddering shoulder.

"My last words to him were ones of anger, and distrust. He trusted the Houndoom when I couldn't. Had I acted sooner, maybe none of this would've happened. He was right about them, but now I can't even apologize, or admit to him that I was wrong. If it's anyone's fault that he's dead… it's mine. I'm so sorry, Cacturne.

She turned her gaze down. "I'll understand if you can't forgive me."

Cacturne's golden eyes briefly met Roserade's shimmering crimson ones, staring off into the distance and blinking away the tears she could no longer contain. She had told herself she would be strong for this moment, only now finding that her façade was crumbling before the one who needed the most comfort.

Cacturne watched as she bit her trembling lip, her eyes swimming as a single, fat tear ran down the side of her cheek. A small green needle slowly emerged from the end of the stub that was his hand, gently wiping away the tear from her face with a degree of finesse his spikes had never been known for.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, turning Roserade's head with his hand until their eyes met.

"Even though his kind is known for it, our Banette was never the kind of Pokémon to hold grudges. He'd always prefer to laugh things off; I guess he was weird even among his own kind," he said, forcing a chuckle. The longer he looked into her eyes, the easier it was for him to understand where the sadness and sorrow she held behind her stare came from.

Like him, she knew she could have done something against the Golem. She could have spared their collective group the sorrow, pain, and death that came in the wake of their attackers. But unlike him, she had been there. She'd had every opportunity to do it, and it was the guilt, to have been responsible for the deaths of so many because of her inaction, that ate her from within. Now she stood before the one whose friend she had let die, asking for the one thing she would never expect to receive.

"You know… if he were here, he wouldn't blame you for what happened to him. He'd laugh and tease you about being wrong, but I know he'd forgive you…" Cacturne said softly, watching her eyes beginning to shimmer like wet glass. "So I forgive you, too."

It happened without warning. Before Cacturne knew it, Roserade had launched herself into him, her bouquets wrapped around his midsection. Although unexpected, the feeling was not unwelcome. It took only a few seconds for Cacturne to react, but eventually he returned the hug as she sobbed. Clefable and the others had backed away, giving them the space they thought was appropriate, as Roserade spoke wet and muffled apologies into the other's shoulder.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't quite explain to herself why she had thrown herself onto Cacturne's grasp, offering herself the meager excuse that it was the relief that Cacturne had forgiven her. To top off her growing mountain of humiliation, she had tasked herself with being strong for Cacturne in his moment of grief, only to see the roles now reversed. The guilt of having been responsible for the death of his friend and the relief that came with his forgiveness had been too much for her to handle.

Cacturne waited until she had calmed down, a small sense of comfort coming from the sense that he was doing what Banette probably would've wanted him to do. His hand rose and gently pressed against the white petal on the back of her head.

"I don't want you blaming yourself about what happened, you know he wouldn't have wanted that. Okay?" A single sniffle and wet nod against his shoulder came as his answer. She made no attempt to detach herself from him, but he didn't mind: he wasn't in any hurry to have her leave.

Roserade's confession came barely higher than a whisper. "As infuriating… and irritating as he was, I think… I'll actually miss hearing him laugh."

Cacturne nodded, holding her gently as he took long breaths to calm himself once more. He had finally gotten his emotions in check, but the memories of Banette's laughter came at him all at once.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna miss that too," he whispered back, saying nothing more. No good could come if both of them broke out into tears.

Banette's all too familiar and incessant snickers echoed in his mind. The mind was truly incredible, in his grief it had seen fit to perfectly replicate Banette's snickers with such potency he could've sworn his old friend was right behind him.

"Just pollinate already, there's a cave over there," a voice behind them croaked.

Roserade gasped and leapt away from Cacturne at the sound of the voice, gaining the attention of every conscious Pokémon in the clearing. Cacturne found himself hanging onto the belief that what he had heard was simply a figment of his imagination. Apparently Roserade had heard it as well, and so had the rest of the group from the way they stared at him, or more accurately, behind him.

"They should seriously consider renaming your type as the 'Thorny Pokemon'," the voice cackled.

It was at that point that several things clicked within Cacturne's head.

One: there was a small possibility that the vacant vessel of rags behind him, otherwise known as Banette, had somehow miraculously returned to the world of the living.

Two: if point one was correct, then the aforementioned bundle of rags, currently laughing at their expense for the emotional display they had shown for his sake, was going to be killed once more.

Three: if point two was correct, the second death of the bundle of rags could be classified as "friendly fire".

Clefable and Roserade ran at Cacturne, who was already on his feet and whirling around to face the source of the voice, letting out an aura of killing intent that could be felt throughout the clearing.

"Aww, don't stop just yet. It was just getting good."

Staring down the end of a dozen emerald spikes – each dedicated to a different vital a centimeter away from the tip – did nothing to deter Banette. Cacturne's anger and scowl gradually dissolved beneath his friend's continued giggles, eventually curving into a smile against his will. The haunted toy's laughter subsided as Cacturne's spikes retracted back into his body.

"You guys didn't think you could get rid of me that easily did you?" he asked, wincing with every chuckle. Roserade rapidly wiped away any stray tears from the corners of her eyes, the action failing to go unnoticed by the doll's glowing crimson eyes.

"Awww, looks like somebody missed good ol' Baney," the ethereal puppet snickered. Roserade's mortification achieved new levels when another sniffle escaped her, eliciting another round of demented giggles. The group now stared in awe at the sight before them, unsure if what they were seeing was actually real or if they had all gone under the influence of something and were having a collective hallucination.

"If your wounds weren't so severe that another blow would kill you, I'd… I'd…" Clefable's voice trailed off, her words losing their weight as tears of happiness streamed down her rosy cheeks.

"Shoulda buried me while ya still had the chance, 'cause now I'm nonrefundable," Banette cackled before ending it with pained coughs. "Could someone heal me? It hurts to laugh, and I can't seem to stop myself from laughing!" each chuckle was accompanied by a pained grimace.

Clefable, Roserade, and Cacturne simply watched him, their demeanor changing entirely. Pregnant seconds passed, filled only with the agonized hoots and hollers that erupted past Banette's golden zipper lips.

"Should… one of us get Miltank to come and heal him?" Munchlax suggested, after a full minute had passed.

"No, not just yet. I think I like him just the way he is right now," Cacturne replied, eyes focused on the ghost that writhed beneath their combined stares. Roserade and Clefable nodding in agreement, the sound of Banette's self-induced mix of torture and mirth like music to their ears.

It would be a few minutes before they would fetch Miltank to heal him, and a few hours before they would surrender to the idea that it was by some stroke of luck or miracle that their Banette had come back.

Alpha shook his head, blinking a few times, and lifted his gaze back to the others. At first he had thought it had been some kind of optical illusion, believing it to be the way the sun's light caught their tears in mid fall, refracting the light and creating airborne diamonds. Yet as he continued to watch, the pinpricks of light stayed and hovered just above the grass. He had watched them travel past Cacturne as he mourned, then as quickly as they had appeared, they faded and vanished.

A multitude of sensations bombarded Drew's first instance of consciousness, all in the span of one second. No thoughts of what had transpired in the last few days invaded his mind – there was only the darkness behind his eyelids and the memories of the world he had unknowingly left behind.

For one, he felt incredible, utterly rested and relaxed. Drew couldn't remember the last time he had felt this good. He hoped that the euphoric sensation would never end. As if to taunt him, the bliss vanished upon his mental acknowledgment of its existence. Hunger quickly rushed in to fill the void, the new sensation hitting the young coordinator like a sledgehammer to the gut.

Drew reflexively curled into a ball from the sudden pain that began to gnaw at him relentlessly, and quickly came to regret his decision to move; the aches that came from sleeping on the ground were not alien to him. The green haired youth rolled onto his back, knowing that the original position that had brought him such bliss would be lost to him forever, and gathered his thoughts, aware that the reality he wanted to hear and the one that he was actually in were not the same.

'I'm on my journey to become the top Pokémon coordinator, right? I'm camping out in the woods, in Johto, 'cause where else would I be? I'll wake up and I'll be in the next town in no time. I just need a few more ribbons, just a few more. I'll probably see May and Solidad in the next town too, and I'll be able to show them how strong I've gotten!'

Tears fell from Drew eyes, knowing deep in his heart that the lies he told himself couldn't comfort him, or turn back the clock and undo all he had seen… and give back what he'd lost.

Snippets of the real memories came to him in quick succession, none of them pleasant. Images of Goldenrod, Raikou, Flygon, Solidad, Butterfree, and Ursaring came at him all at once, all of them tied together by one thing that they shared in common: death.

His eyes opened to the sight of a cave's interior, but the light that came from the entrance forced them close as quickly as he had opened them. It wasn't the first time this had happened, waking up and wishing that everything he had gone through, everything he had seen, was all just a horrible nightmare. The realization didn't hit him any more softly. It wasn't any easier to accept.

The boy's fingers dug into the sheets beneath him, the unexpected silken texture making his hands retreat from the covers as if they had been woven with flames. He blindly rolled onto his stomach, feeling the stiffness his body had accumulated for an entire day's worth of rest on hard ground.

Wrinkled peach sheets greeted his green eyes, the sight of them triggering the only thing he hadn't remembered: the Houndoom. With all his most recent memories filled with death and destruction, it had been easy to overlook the one memory that wasn't about an imminent threat on their lives. He had been so exhausted that night he couldn't have brought himself to care about anything or anyone.

Drew sifted through his memories of what he believed to be the night before. Their Pokémon had spoken with the Houndoom that surrounded them, and something they'd said had spared them, or at least that was what Drew hoped it was. In the worst case scenario, their Pokémon had struck some kind of deal with the dogs, trading the lives of their coordinators for their own. Harley's absence from the bed beside him didn't exactly disprove his theory, either.

The young human shook his head. There was no way his Pokémon would ever agree to something like that! Yet, doubt still resided in the darkest corners of his mind. Could he blame them for wanting to save their own skins? Tired, wounded, and slow, he wasn't more than a liability to them, a dead weight, and he was sure that the only reason for they not to simply finish him off or leave him to die by some other means was their loyalty and affection.

Drew's worries were abated at the sound of his Roserade's call from behind him. An audible crack from his neck was heard throughout the cave as he turned his head to meet her. The Pokémon launched herself into him, taking in the familiar scent of her coordinator as he returned the embrace.

'Okay, so maybe they haven't used us as a bargaining tool,' Drew thought to himself, meeting his Roserade's gaze. A look of concern was painted on her face, the azure petals that made up her hand tracing the fresh stream of tears from his right eye.

"Don't worry about it," Drew replied, peering over her skeptical stare to see the empty entrance of the cave. "Roserade, where's Harley?" he asked calmly, watching her turn and aim her bouquet towards the cave's exit. Drew had yet to even move a finger towards the cave's exit when he heard something shuffle behind him.

Jade pools watched the dying embers burn with newfound vigor, the crackle of the flames fighting for dominance against the constant sizzle of the cooking sausages on the metal frying pan. It wasn't a five star meal, but the aroma alone was enough to make Harley's mouth water.

He'd been fortunate enough to wake up before the others, roused by the distinct sound of Banette's laughter. Cacturne and Banette blurred into motion at the sight of him exiting the cave, and within seconds Harley found himself sandwiched between his two buddies. It was only after Banette's infectious laughter had subsided from the three of them that Harley took a step back to truly look at his friends.

Whereas Banette remained unchanged, Harley could've sworn his Cacturne had evolved into an entirely different Pokémon. The only thing more surprising than the obvious differences was the fact that he hadn't noticed them sooner. Cacturne were known to reach just above 4 feet in height, barely reaching Harley's shoulder (not including the green hat-like structure on their heads). Now at the height of about six feet, Harley would be forced to look up as Cacturne looked down if they wanted their eyes to meet.

Aside from the staggering height from his long new legs, different parts of Cacturne's anatomy had metamorphosed as well. Cacturne's toned and muscled arms now extended from a pair of broad shoulders, a physical attribute his never seen before in a Cacturne, If Harley didn't know any better, he could've sworn his buddy hadn't eaten in weeks with the disappearance of his once pudgy and rounded face – when asked if he had been skipping meals, Cacturne simply shook his head.

His once thick and stocky waist and legs had thinned to the point where he could wear Harley's Cacturne-patterned pants if he wanted to. If anything, Cacturne appeared more humanoid than ever before.

When he asked what he'd missed in his absence, Banette simply shrugged and shook his head, earning him a look from Cacturne and the entire group behind him. Harley chose to not pursue the topic any further – he was curious, but didn't feel like playing charades with his Pokémon.

When he asked if anyone was hurt or had died, Banette confidently shook his head while the others looked too confused to answer. For the most part they all appeared unscathed and had no reason to lie to him.

It didn't take long for him to find the small mound of packaged food, drinks, and cooking utensils and put them to good use. Although brought to him with the best intentions, Harley found himself laughing at how useless items like a blender and an electric whisk, which he found among the available items, would be to him, given the food he had to work with and the lack of a power line.

One of the Houndoom had been kind enough to help start a fire for him while Cacturne brought him sliced stacks of lumber. All that was left to do was to wait until the hotdogs were fully cooked, and hope that the others woke up before the food got too cold. His Pokémon, as well as the others', had politely declined when he offered to make them a meal, urging him to eat it himself and leave some for the others.

It was in the silence that Harley found himself appreciating every second of the well-deserved respite that came with sitting down and knowing that they were safe and protected. It would be a few minutes before his meal would be ready, which gave him the time to gather this thoughts, something that he felt he hadn't done for ages.

It baffled him in so many ways to find himself no longer running for his life in constant, imminent dangerous situations. But more than that, it astounded him that he had become so accustomed to being shadowed by promises of death. It came to be something expected now, even in the most tranquil of settings.

Despite it not being his first time seeing them, Harley found himself mesmerized by the flames he saw before him. Flames that had come from Blaziken's mouth, flames that had killed people in the audience back in Goldenrod's contest building. It was with these very same flames that he was cooking his next meal.

Pokémon flames and real flames – flames that could raze cities and forests, leave third degree burns, and ultimately be fatal – had become one and the same. It didn't stop at fire, or at lightning, or even grass; every elemental attack had become just as powerful and lethal as its real counterpart. Regardless of how much he wanted his theory to be wrong, part of him couldn't help but feel that there was a good possibility that every Pokémon on the planet was now capable of lethal force, like those Ursaring, and even his own Pokémon.

Sure, the Houndoom that they had encountered were amiable towards them, but it did not change the fact that each and every one of them possessed the power to kill them with ease. The chance that the lethal transformations of Goldenrod City's Pokémon were a local anomaly was weakened, if not entirely crushed, in their run-in with the Ursaring.

What guaranteed that the change had stopped at Johto? What was to stop it from reaching Kanto, Hoenn or Sinnoh? A repeat of the events in Goldenrod in his hometown, Slateport City, immediately surfaced in his mind. To think that his mother could be dead while he was thousands of miles away, on another continent, drew the color from his face and left only a chalk-white hue. He suddenly felt lightheaded, his arm moving to keep from teetering onto the floor. The costumed coordinator fought to slow his heart rate, shaking the worries from his head and focusing solely on the sizzling that filled the air.

There was no guarantee the same had happened in Hoenn, nor was there any that it hadn't happened. Yet, in the end, there was nothing he could do about it from where he was. Fretting and panicking would not fix anything. He could only hope that the things he cherished, things he'd grown up with and loved, were still safe and standing.

Harley knew he wouldn't be the only one with worries about home, worries that he hoped could be eased with a single long distance call to Hoenn from the next town's Pokémon Center. It then occurred to him that someone would have to contact Solidad's parents in Pewter City and inform them of what had happened to their daughter.

Being the oldest of the group, the responsibility automatically fell onto him, though he couldn't promise he would fare any better emotionally than May or Drew. Then, there was always the possibility that Solidad's parents or the next town over had suffered a similar fate. Harley shook the depressing thought from his mind, to no effect.

He'd have to stay strong for both May and Drew. Solidad had left him with that important task, and he had no intention of failing it.

Harley lowered his gaze, counting each ring within the stump he sat on, a courtesy gift from his Cacturne. "Hey… Solidad," he whispered to the air, unsure of what to say next when only silence answered back. He remained silent for a long time before he spoke again, leaning back and holding himself up with his arms. He lifted his eyes to the blue sky and fluffy white clouds above him. 'A view I can only see because she died to give me the chance…'

"There's… so many questions I have, so many things I wanna tell you, but I don't know if you're actually there, or if you even exist in any way."

Harley closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, letting the tears fall freely from his eyes. His dirt filled nails sunk into the skin of his palms.

"I just wish… I just want you to be real in some way. Any way. I want to know that you're listening. I want some kind of sign, any kind of sign to at least let me know I'm not wasting my breath… that I'm not crazy." Harley leaned forward and bowed his head, his elbows meeting his knees as his hands moved to his face in an attempt to hide his anguish from the world. Holding in his grief made his heart want to burst out of his chest, and so it took him every bit of his will to choke back a sob.

"I want you to know that I've… that I'm trying. I'm not gonna give up. We've made it this far. I can't really take credit for it, but… but…" the teenager managed to choke out, finding it harder and harder to make the next words come out while sounding coherent. His fingers pressed against his temples as he tried to stay as still as possible, having no way to stop the flow of tears out of his eyes, or the pains that wracked his body and soul.

She wouldn't have wanted to see him mourn over her like this; at least, that was what he thought she would want. He immediately felt like a fool – there were so many things he didn't know about Solidad, it sounded ridiculous for him to assume what she'd like and what she wouldn't. But even so, he couldn't stop thinking.

Were she to see what had transpired in the last few days, would she be proud of him? Proud that he had discarded all notions of anger and vengeance towards May and Drew, so that they could survive?

Those would be questions he knew would haunt him for as long as he lived, questions that he would ask himself every day and know that no answer would ever come. She would never be able to tell him, he would never be able to hear it from her lips and know it was authentic. He could only hope that what he did from now on would be good enough.

Years and distance had made them like strangers when they met at Pokémon contests. A curt nod of acknowledgment was all that passed between them when their eyes would meet across a room or in passing. Why was it now that memories of their old friendship decided to reappear in his mind? Why was it only after she had died that he began to realize how much he truly cared for her?

Feeling as he was, only now that she was gone, made him feel like he had never truly cared for her in the first place. She had died without knowing how much she meant to him. She would never know. But then, the way she'd smiled at him, the way she'd looked into his eyes in her final moments, it all left him wondering what she thought of him, if somehow she had known. What went through her mind as she looked into the eyes of the last person she would ever see?

A burnt smell reached his nose, reeling him out of his escape from reality. Harley immediately jumped to his feet, staring disdainfully at the shriveled blackened remains of what would've been his meal. He wiped away the stray mucus and tears with his arm, blindly reaching for a spatula to scrape off what was now basically as edible as charcoal.

The coordinator turned to the small mountain of packaged food behind him and sighed. The amount of food they had was enough to last them several days, but with no way of telling how close they were to the next town, they would have to ration it as best they could.

He would have time to mourn for Solidad later. Right now, he needed to make sure the others woke up with something to eat, because in the end, that was what Solidad would've wanted him to do, right?

Between Alpha and Clefable, Cacturne learned most of what had transpired in the night of his absence. He'd expected it to be more like Glaceon's telling of her part in the battle, having the flare of a story rather than a briefing. He couldn't help but smile as she described herself, and even acted out, flying through the air, launching her attacks at the airborne Golem.

The pink fairy and the bone-covered hound had no such imaginations as far as he was concerned, practically giving a bulleted summary of the events. Seeing as the battle had been hard enough to cripple Blaziken, and take his best friend to the brink of death, he was curious to know more about it and get every perspective. The only ones he hadn't asked were Blaziken and Banette, who coincidentally were both missing.

He asked around and found that Glaceon had noticed the ethereal puppet silently drift into the woods. Finding Banette had proven harder than Cacturne had expected, not even the slightest hint of a snicker carried by the wind. However, the animated cactus didn't have to walk far to find him at the edge of the final Golem's gravesite. Cacturne had yet to see the crater, a mixture of awe and horror at the destruction.

"You're taller than I remember," Banette commented, never once turning to look at Cacturne.

He was surprised that Banette knew, without even looking, that it was him and not someone else who had arrived. "I guess. I didn't really notice until we saw Harley. I always remember him being taller than me. Having to look down to see him from now on will be weird," he replied.

"I feel like a lot changed while I was out. Strange, considering it was so short… I knew you, Harley, and Octi would take it hard, but I didn't expect anyone else to cry."

"Why's that?"

"Banette exist by being abandoned, it's how we come into being. Because we are loved and then no longer cared for, we get thrown away like garbage, and so we haunt and curse our original owners. I've come to terms with being left behind and forgotten, and I didn't think it would be any different this time around."

"And now?"

The marionette Pokémon was silent and still for a few seconds, a trait Cacturne was not sure he was comfortable with, his friend's nature considered.

"Now, I can say I'm pleasantly surprised that you guys care."

Another moment of silence ensued, which Cacturne couldn't help but feel weirded out by. Silence and Banette… they just didn't mix. It was as alien as the idea of mixing pure water and oil, or poisoning a Steel-type Pokémon.

"It's crazy, ain't it? Too bad I wasn't here to see it," the living puppet commented, motioning towards the crater.

"Why are you here?"

"Blunt as always. Good to see some things haven't changed," Banette mumbled. "Thought I'd pay a visit to our friendly neighborhood flaming chicken; don't think he heard the news that I was back."

"How'd he take it?"

"He took it pretty well, considering all I did was float up to him and fill him in," Banette sighed. "Still seems like a waste, though."

"What does?"

"On my way here, I kept thinking of different ways to scare the crap out of him. It's not every day that someone thinks you're dead after all. I'd be sane if I didn't take advantage of an opportunity like this. I had a bunch of ideas, like acting all dreary and telling him that tonight he'd be visited by three ghost Pokémon, but where was I gonna get chains to rattle?"

"Why didn't you?" Cacturne asked, finding it hard to smile at Banette's joke when he knew there was more to it than just laziness.

"To be honest, I really didn't feel like it," Banette replied, shrugging in defeat.

"Something's eating at you, I can tell. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, I'm good…"

"You sure? You know you can talk to me about anything," Cacturne insisted, surprised to find the marionette being shy about something – or anything, for that matter.

Banette threw him a quick sidelong glance before gazing back at the crater's expanse.

"You'll…you'll think I'm crazy."

Cacturne took a step back, checking the skies to see they had turned red and if rivers of lava had started traversing the land.

"So you're telling me that the Pokémon, that spends nearly his entire life laughing maniacally at things that aren't even meant to be laughed at is worried that others will think he's crazy?"

"Okay, point for you."

"So what's up?" Cacturne asked again, his voice softer than before, almost pleading in tone.

"I… I think I might've… had a dream."

"A dream?" Cacturne inquired, unable to hide the skepticism in his voice.

"Yeah, I know, I don't sleep. You don't have to tell me twice."

"Banette, it may not have occurred to you, but you were dead."

"Yeah, about that, I really don't think I was actually-"

"You weren't breathing, for like several hours."

"Details," Banette replied dismissively, turning around to face him, waving his hand as if the entire affair meant nothing. Cacturne sighed as he rolled his eyes, and gave up; he knew an uphill battle when he saw one. Yet, it was still comforting to know that deep down, Banette was still Banette.

"You were saying?"

"All I remember was everything being white for as far as I could see. I don't know if I imagined it all, if it was a dream, or if I really died. What really surprised me was that there weren't any flames."

"Banette," Cacturne groaned.

"Oh come on, you didn't honestly think I was gonna end up anywhere else if I died, did you?"

It was only after Cacturne refused to answer that Banette continued, his tone going softer once more.

"I saw Ariados and Wigglytuff," the puppet said with a sigh.

"Wigglytuff?"

"I know! Weird, huh? I seriously couldn't find any flames!"

"Banette!" the scarecrow chided.

"All right! All right! Like I was saying. We talked for a while, well actually Ariados talked, Wigglytuff didn't really say anything and I just listened and stared."

"What did he say?"

"He told me… he told me what he did before he died. He said he started getting hungrier and hungrier, and not for pokéblocks or berries. It was like something inside him took over and it tried to kill Harley and the others so it could eat them, but it had to kill the Ursaring since they weren't planning on leaving anything if they got their hands on them. In the end, he was able to regain control and save Harley, but it cost him his life. He didn't want me to let it take over like it did for him."

Banette turned his back to Cacturne once more, contemplating on how to pick his next words carefully, or whether he even should.

"Before I fought the Golem that beat the crap outta me and Blaziken, I fought another Golem. Thing is, when I met that first Golem, I completely forgot about the Houndoom. They were all over the place, some beaten, some dead. This Golem was probably new to his form, he was easy to scare and mess with. So I tortured him, not because I wanted to avenge the Houndoom, but because it amused me. I let that part of me take over and as long as I had my fun nothing else mattered," the animated puppet confessed.

"I wanted to torture the Golem for as long as I could, and when I was done with him, I had plans to do the same to the others if I could get my hands on them," he continued, his voice strained with frustration. "I could've ended the battle from the beginning, could've gone to help Blaziken earlier, and maybe things would've very well ended differently!"

"Banette, I-"

"That's not the worst part! What scares me more is, what if that's just the start?" Banette was almost hysterical at this point, waving his hands frantically in front of Cacturne's face. "What if I turn out like Ariados and I start torturing Pokémon to the point where it isn't enough anymore?" His face assumed a fearful expression, just as his voice went down several decibels. "And… and what if I turn on Harley?"

"The first step in fixing a problem is knowing that you have it," Cacturne said patiently. "With what you know now, you can put a stop to it. Besides, you've got the others and me to watch your back… and to stop you before that happens."

"We'll see," Banette whispered, not entirely convinced by the scarecrow's words. "I just hate the idea that I might do that to him or his frie-they are his friends, right?"

"At this point, considering what they've gone through together, I think they are," Cacturne replied with a nod.

So still and silent was Whitney that Harley flinched when he turned to see her, surprised that he hadn't felt her presence at all. She looked like she had fought a tornado and lost. With no reflective surfaces nearby, Harley could only guess at how haggard he himself looked. He patiently watched her slowly advance; the way she shyly sidled up to him reminded him of his earlier traveling days.

There were nights he would cook for himself beneath the full light of the moon, the aroma of his meals attracting small wild Pokémon of all types to his campsite. They were too cautious to get any closer but too hungry to move any further away. Harley could see that very same look in her eyes; eyes that darted between him and the sizzling pan.

In all the time he had spent thinking of fulfilling Solidad's last words, not once had he thought of Whitney. Solidad and Whitney had never formally met, and even if they had, Harley doubted Solidad would've tasked him with her safety. He carried no obligation to care for her, having only gratitude for the services she and her Pokémon had provided.

Harley's hand instinctively rose to his shoulder, as if to hide the scar left by the Swift he took. The memory of the event brought about a brief strike of phantom pain over his shoulder; the sting was long forgotten, but the scar would be a constant reminder of what had caused it, and what Clefable had done for him.

Once they reached the next town, would they part ways? With no home or family (that he knew of) to return to, what was to become of her if they decided to leave? Would she follow them, stay, or head back to what was probably the smoking ruins of her city and home? Would she try and rebuild her life elsewhere?

Harley imagined it was these questions that plagued her thoughts the moment she had awoken. In a group of rival coordinators, she was a stranger in her own region. The world of gym battles was so similar and yet so different from their world of contests. Yet, in that alone they shared something in common. Their worlds had been stripped from them and they had been forced into a new one. A world of death, loss, and pain, where there were no coordinators, gym leaders or trainers, only refugees and survivors.

Despite the bleak outlook, there was something in it that kept him moving. All of this had united them, and in that union they could find some solidarity.

Harley simply stared back at her and found himself astounded to see something he hadn't seen since he had met her. There was a light in her eyes that couldn't be mistaken for anything else but life and the determination to keep living. Had Solidad still been with them, had she seen what Whitney had done for them, she probably would've wanted to help her as well.

"If you're looking for your Pokémon, they're with the others. They all seem to be fine. I'm sure they'll be happy to see you," he said. Whitney's answer was several seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"I don't think we've formally met. My name's Harley. May and Drew mentioned that your name was Whitney, right?" Harley asked, extending a hand. The trainer gingerly stretched out her own hand, grasping Harley's for a moment before giving him a nearly imperceptible nod and drawing her hand back without even a shade of a shake.

The extended moments of quiet was made even more awkward with the growl of Whitney's stomach. Harley couldn't help but chuckle as Whitney blushed furiously, her arms wrapped around her midriff as if to cease any further sounds from escaping. The coordinator spun to face his makeshift kitchen, turning back to Whitney with a hotdog in hand. "It's not the best, but it should help hold us off until we get to the next town with some real food. The next town should be close if the Pokémon were able to bring us these things."

Whitney took the hotdog, staring at the ketchup and mustard drizzled down the middle. She was never very fond of ketchup on her hotdogs, but considering their situation, she was in no position to be picky. When it became apparent that Harley would not stop staring at her until she ate, she complied and took a single bite.

"Is it okay? If you don't like it I could try and make something else," Harley offered, to which she shook her head. To complain about the ketchup when Harley had made the effort to wake up before all of them and prepare a collective meal would've been beyond rude. From the look on his face, she could tell he really wanted it to taste good. Who was she to kid herself? It was delicious, if only because they hadn't eaten a decent meal in several days.

She nodded and smiled, settling for a thumbs-up with her free hand since her mouth was full. Harley's surprise to her wordless response might as well have been the same if she had just grown a second head right in front of him. If Whitney didn't know any better, she could've sworn Harley was practically glowing.

"Could you go check on May and Drew and see if they're awake? I bet they'll be just as hungry," he asked.

She nodded, savoring her tiny morsel for as long as she could before making her way towards the cave's entrance. Just before she was gone from his sight she turned, waiting until she got Harley's attention.

"Is…everything okay, Whitney?" the coordinator asked.

She nodded, finishing the last bites of the hotdog.

"Thank you, for everything," she said with a smile, leaving the coordinator stunned and standing silently as she entered the cave.

Whitney could hear May's and Drew's faint voices rebounding off the cavern walls as she drew closer to them, their backs turned to her when she peeked around the wall. They were sitting in silence now, so close to each other that they leaned against one another, shoulders touching. Goldenrod's once proud gym leader held her ground, waiting for the appropriate moment to fill the younger coordinators in on Harley's call to eat.

"We haven't talked in a while," Drew said, doing his best to break the veil of silence that pervaded the cavern. May merely mumbled in affirmation, staring at the wall of stone in front of her. Her legs had been brought up to her chest and her arms were wrapped tightly around them.

"Did you sleep well, at least?" he asked, hopeful, knowing it would be stupid to ask if she was okay. The brunette shook her head, the action evoking a distressed sigh from the green haired youth. "Bad dreams?" he asked. Hoenn's coordinator princess started to nod, but then changed her mind and shook her head.

"I could barely sleep. I can't help but worry about mom, dad, and my little brother. I'm scared to think about what could be happening to them and my other friends," she replied. Drew looked at her hands; one of them held a wrinkled picture of what he assumed was her family, and in the other there was what looked like half of a ribbon.

"What happened in Goldenrod probably hasn't happened in Sinnoh or Hoenn," Drew offered consolingly. He knew she had recently gone to Sinnoh to visit her friends and participate in a contest there.

"You don't know that it hasn't," she murmured back.

"You don't know that it has,"

May's head turned to meet his eyes. "How can you be so calm in all of this?"

"Someone has to be," he replied simply.

Whitney took the extended stillness to make her entrance, but stopped short when May broke the silence unexpectedly and spoke again.

"Nothing's… ever, gonna be the same again."

The gym leader nearly stumbled at the question; May's words had flown true and struck her at the core. That was the question, wasn't it? All of them had lost something dear to them. They couldn't simply move on and forget what had happened as if it wasn't important.

The reality of it was nothing new to her, but to hear the actual words still felt like a blade of ice embedding itself into her chest.

"I'm not gonna lie to you. I'm not gonna promise you that it'll ever be the same again, 'cause it probably won't. I don't make promises that I can't keep. Solidad and our Pokémon won't come back, and the nightmare we went through might get even worse…"

Drew paused, watching a new round of tears build around May's eyes, threatening to spill without a hint of ever stopping.

"… But it could get better. So if we get out of this mess, if we can't be coordinators anymore, then we'll find something else that we can do and… and I'll be with you every step of the way."

May turned to face him. Drew was met with astonished, shimmering pools of sapphire staring back at him. She watched his hand lift up, but rather than brush aside a lock of jade hair that hung over his eyes like he always did, his fingers hesitantly reached towards her face, wiping away a stray tear that had built up at the corner of her eye. May could feel the heat of his flushed face as his hand tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear, then the cool as the fingers left her skin, rapidly retreating back to his side.

Drew suddenly turned away, the stone wall in front of them becoming infinitely more fascinating. May and Whitney allowed themselves a small smile at the sight of Drew's face and ears, which now burned a vibrant red. "Harley seems pretty dependable, and we have Whitney with us. And also our Pokemon, of course," he reminded her, hoping to shift the focus off him.

May's hand landed on his, the reaction surprising her as she couldn't imagine him sitting any straighter. She managed to suppress a giggle, content with just staring at the wall with him. She felt his fingers weakly intertwine with hers until she gave him a reassuring squeeze, letting him know it was okay to hold her hand a little tighter.

They sat in silence for a long time, and some part of her believed that Drew was right. Things would get better for them.

I don't consider myself to be great at emotional scenes, but I put a lot of myself into this chapter, and think I did a decent job with this one. I apologize for this chapter being so long, I know it can get exhausting, there was just a lot of loose ends I wanted to tie up before I ended it here.

The second part of the Johto arc will be continued in Poke Wars: The Incalescence.

Keep an eye out for when I bring out the Sinnoh arc, Poke Wars: The Truculence.