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Delegate Street was not Coronus's favorite place in the world, to say the least. It served as the boundary between the royal districts and the slums and was comprised of the worst elements of both. It was a hundred leagues long and housed the business-offices of all the industrial managers, those whose job it was to tirelessly improve the gross national product, manage resources, and help to ensure that workplace casualties remained at a suitably low level. They were the slave-drivers, as he called them. And while he appreciated the work they did, protecting the royalty from the affairs of the lower class, they were absolutely insufferable beasts. All of them. They were the only Pokémon in Amaranthine with the gall to speak down to their own prince.
Cepheus himself was usually the one who personally dealt with their snobbery and insubordination. But he was off warmongering, and so the next of kin would need to do.
As the Nidoking strayed farther from his fortress of wealth and comfort, the horizon faded to black with the ashes of a thousand smokestacks from the industrial districts. Not even the flying-type wards set upon the sky could keep the occasional scent of destitution and disgrace from blowing the wrong way, reminding Coronus of the unseen and unloved camps of serfs who tirelessly worked to bring Amaranthine its success and riches, though they would never see but a glimpse of a diamond or gold coin in all their miserable lives. Hardly could they be called Pokémon, for most of the district was covered in white-energy suppressors which dampened their elemental abilities, preventing an inconvenient uprising. Coronus preferred not to acknowledge their existence, but when the did, always sent them a thought or two of gratitude for the values of their generous sacrifice.
The Starborn prince wandered down Delegate Street and glared into the eye of every passerby. And none said a word to him, especially the four-leggeds who were not tall enough to leer back. He knew they could do nothing to help him, so he allowed them the privilege of pretending he was not there. He did not, after all, wish to be there. It was not his element. Velvet curtains, whitegold bricks, jovial company, and endless feasts were where he truly belonged. It was only when he stepped foot onto this dreary street that he began to feel the pain of their absence.
And besides, the muggy, ashen alleyways of the industrial zones were too much like the aftermath of a warfield, reminding him too much of the battle for the –
No. He would not remember those things. They never happened.
Finding the correct address, the Nidoking stomped open the flimsy shutter-door (his favorite way of making an entrance) and proceeded uninvited into the office of his choice. Inside was a – well, he did not know what it was, some sort of sniveling snake-alligator Pokémon. It looked as though like it regularly snacked on dawdling workers and had no shame about it.
"Oh, your Starborn Highness, this is a surprise," said the thing, clearly masking its anger. "What in the name of humanity can I do for you?"
Coronus snorted and set aside his walking-stick. "You are in charge of the lumber manufactory, correct?" he said, stepping forward to stand over the befuddled manager.
"Why yes, yes, and yes," said the odd spindly salamander.
The Nidoking narrowed his eyes. "What interest have you in carpentry? You are not a grass-type, clearly. Who put you here?"
"Well, uh-humhum," started the Pokémon.
"Don't answer that, slave-driver," grumbled Coronus. "As long as you can do your job, it is no matter to me."
The Salandit perked up. "Speaking of which, if you wish to see, I can show you the ledger, my prince! Our numbers are up, and casualties are – "
"I need warships," stated the prince. "Many dozens of warships."
The slave-driver shut his trap, processing this baffling statement for a moment. "Warships, your highness?"
"You heard me," grumbled Coronus. "I wish to construct a fleet of ironclads to guard the channel."
"H-how many, your highness?"
"Five hundred. At least."
All the color ran from the Salandit's body.
"You will suspend all other projects and dispatch our wood supply to the shipyards immediately," he commanded.
"Y-your highness," the Salandit sputtered. "We have not the wood for even… a quarter of that."
"Then you've got some work to do, snake," Coronus said. "Import more. Level the Quilladin Forest if need be."
"But we've not the crowns for – "
"I shall raise taxes to ninety percent," Coronus declared. "You shall have your funding. Now get me that wood."
This was of the utmost importance. In all of the timelines, Amaranthine was invaded by one of the Master's generals – sometimes Mirandalys, sometimes Rolff, sometimes whatever Scyther or Scizor that Enigma had happened to snatch from the Adrellos clan. Sometimes Amaranthine would fall. Sometimes war would trudge on slowly for fifty years. But in the timelines where the attackers were successfully fought off, it was done by reinforcing the western channel. It was an absolute tactical necessity.
Coronus hoped he'd have more time to prepare. But he wasn't taking any chances now, not after the scare he just experienced. If it took five hundred warships to protect his beloved friends and keep them showing up at the brunch table each day, then five hundred warships he would build.
After bringing down this ultimatum upon the logging industry, the Starborn Highness took up his walking-stick and sauntered down to the local offices of Aggron Ironworks, issuing the same royal decree to a very henpecked Lucario. This one fought back a bit more, but Coronus repeated himself until he was certain the message sunk in.
Certainly, my decisions are not so unreasonable? said the Nidoking prince as he paraded further down Delegate Street. I cannot believe nobody else sees the brilliance of my ways except for me. This timeline is perfect and I am the only one who knows how to preserve its perfection.
Finally, he proceeded down to one of his least favorite bureaus, the granary. The rations were dealt and managed by an absolutely irritating Sceptile. Whenever in earshot, she was always screeching on and on about shortages and workers starving to death and all kinds of things that made no difference. She obviously couldn't do her job properly, but Cepheus had put her there, and Coronus lacked the authority to remove her until he himself was king.
"Our Highness, thank Arceus you're here," she cried the moment he walked into the door. "It's been three weeks since livestock epidemic has begun, and your father has said nothing! The fishers and the threadweavers are desperately short on rations! Is it too much to expect some help from those who run our kingdom? The rock-breakers are too tired to walk, the steelmenders can hardly – "
"Silence," ordered the Nidoking with a wave of his claw, trying not to focus on the smell of rotten berries which permeated the room. "I'm tired of you babbling on about shortages. It's your job to manage the supply, and to prevent shortages, and you are obviously too incompetent to accomplish even that feat. I swear to all the gods, the moment I inherit the throne from my father, I'll have you removed from office and you will be laboring out there with the slaves. Unless, that is, you wish to redeem yourself. I have a job for you. If you perform the job satisfactorily, I might be inclined not to revoke the tenure my father so graciously granted you. I'm expanding our glorious fleet, Sceptile. I need you to start setting aside rations to feed our naval forces."
The Sceptile went ballistic. "Set aside rations?! Set aside what?! Look around you, Starborn Highness. Do you see any reserves of food lining our shelves?! I cannot ration what does not exist! I cannot manage that which never passes through my hands! With all due respect, Starborn, we need. More. Supply. Because if I am to feed an army, then ten thousand laborers will go hungry."
Coronus snorted. "Then perhaps you should consider eating the hungry? Seems like it would solve your shortage problems," he sneered facetiously.
The pantry officer glowered at him. "Many have already resorted to it," she said bitterly. Then she added, after a hesitant pause…
"But tell me, what kind of food lines your tables every day, Highness?"
The Nidoking didn't know what came over him.
There was a blue flash of light, an ice-type spell from the top of his magical staff. The Sceptile was thrown through an empty shelf and tumbled to the floor, taking several pieces of furniture with her. Coronus jumped at the fallen lizard, grasping her neck and pinning her body tightly against the floor.
His eyes turned to fire.
His palms shook.
The Sceptile, nearly paralyzed from the freezing-cold assault, tried to speak, even as the Nidoking clutched at her throat.
"D— Do you… do you really think so lowly of your… people?" it whimpered feebly.
Coronus glared at the officer and said nothing. A soft, deep snarl sounded from his throat as many painful, repressed memories flashed before him.
The time gear. The freezing-cold time gear, too unpleasant to touch with bare claws.
"…Yes," he growled under his breath. "You are… nothing."
"…Why… Your Highness?" gasped the helpless victim, betrayed by her own prince. "Why…?"
"Because…" Coronus grumbled. "You… are not real."
"What…?"
"You aren't real. The people aren't real. Nobody here is real. Nobody but I. You are all but echoes of possibility, you are vapid daydreams of Arceus himself, formed by the nothingness of the void to appease me. Our universe is discontinued. I am the only soul remaining in this desolate purgatory. But it is mine, my purgatory. And I will not relinquish control of this reality I have forged."
The Sceptile was in tears. "Y-your… your Highness…" she whimpered.
But Coronus released her from his grasp, left her collapsed on the floor, and stormed out into the dreary, ash-ridden street without paying her any further mind.
I will have Adron assassinate her, he thought to himself bitterly, and replace her with someone more to my liking. I will not have this insubordination any longer. I have too much to lose.
I will have my way.
After such an unpleasant errand, the prince returned to civilization.
Zerferian winds swept through the streets, and Coronus scented the northern chill of the impending winter. Soon it would be turning very cold – his least favorite temperature. He so hated the cold that he'd long-since outlawed it from all of the castle halls. Even ice-types were unwelcome. He had the royal mages cast numerous spells to keep the castle perfectly comfortable year-round, and the gardens always in bloom. He would have nothing less for his beloved friends.
Ah, his beloved friends… the Pokémon around which the world turned. The six Pokémon he'd hand-chosen for being his favorites and kidnapped into this life of bliss.
There was Adron, the sharp-minded Scyther, saved from a life of brainwashing and bloodshed…
There was Amadeus, the noble and studious Charizard, saved from a life of struggling to reach his unattainable goals…
There was Aether, the patient and longsuffering Absol, saved from a life of running herself to death, finally given the proper retirement she deserved…
There was Saura, the adopted and displaced Ivysaur, saved from a life of familial abuse and the burden of his strange and erratic power…
There was Rautzen, the bouncing Raichu – no, Raikouun was his name, he needed to remember that - saved from a life of orphanage…
And finally, there was Calamar, the foolishly aggressive Infernape, saved from a miserable fate of monumental sacrifice. It was difficult to choose between Calamar and Lykios, and he had tried to bring the Vulpix along several times in the past, but was disappointed to discover that his particular gift for the spoken word was a result of the very specific chain of events which had composed his life. The Vulpix who was granted a life of honorary royalty was nothing more than a sullen and introverted prop to decorate the halls (even after evolution, which was doubly disappointing). And the few times he'd brought them both… their chemistry began to trigger that phenomenon of synchronous awareness, which was plainly unacceptable.
(Of course, he knew he was likely just being paranoid. Lykios mentioned one day, as he trampled through the snow, that he felt like a 'frozen flame'. Did it mean anything? Was it a coincidence? Coronus didn't care; he was not going to take the chance of letting them remember things that never happened.)
It was inevitable that some would need to get left behind; it was hard enough making a paradise for himself and his six chosen; any more and he would hardly be able to provide them the justice they deserved.
The Nidoking flexed his claw, annoyed with the sticky sap-like residue between his fingers. The Sceptile's blood. He probably squeezed her neck a bit too tightly. What did it matter, though? She was to die anyways.
Another chilly breath of wind swept between his thorns, waving his cape behind him. Oh yes, the winter was certainly not taking its time this year. Little could he wait for the joy of relaxing in the inner sanctums of the castle, wineglasses and storybooks alight with the glow from a fireplace, as the breaths of Articuno raged outside. Uttering a curse to the sky, he cast a fire-type shield around himself to keep warm. That would need to do for now.
On a whim, he took a different route back home, through an expanse of land known as the Pleasant Grounds, a giant park meant for games and socializing and the appreciation of nature. Saura liked to play croquet there with his fellows of the gardening guild, and Rautzen – no, Raikouun, he kept getting those two confused – liked to catch the lightning bolts hurled by the mid-summer storms. Figuring the whole place was soon to be buried in frost and snow, he decided to take one last wander through the park for the sentiment of it. There was a particularly nice knoll of grass near the park's boundary where one could stand and look over the castle and half the royal district; he often liked to perch there momentarily to savor the sight of the paradise which belonged to him.
To his surprise, Coronus found that one of his closely-beloved friends had the same intention. An unmistakable Ivysaur sat upon that knoll, near a young micleberry tree, enjoying the pleasant view of the city.
"Saura!" he called happily, rushing to his side. "I thought you said you were going to rest by the sea today?"
The Ivysaur regarded him with a respectful nod. "Don't know," he sighed simply. "Didn't feel like walking all that way, I guess. It was getting cold."
"Ah yes, you can feel it, the winter winds come fast," Coronus said, coming to sit beside him. "Why not go and enjoy the warmth of the castle? It is much more comfortable in there."
"I don't know," Saura sighed. "I just… I don't know."
The Starborn prince bit his lip, letting a silent moment pass as he contemplated how to lift his friend's spirit. "I suppose you have nothing to truly worry about," he jovially said, "seeing that your best friend brings with him his own personal source of fire! You need not fear the winter."
Saura cocked his head. "My best friend…? …Oh, you mean Amadeus…" he said. Then he shifted a bit uncomfortably and added, "Prince Coronus, since we are alone… could I talk with you about something?"
"Assuming we are even alone," Coronus laughed. "I am certain that Adron has found a means to spy on us, even with no conceivable place to hide. But of course, my good friend. What is it that troubles you?"
The autumn winds fluttered the leaves of Saura's flower, and he breathed deeply, his head turned from the Nidoking's gaze. "I mean you no offense, Your Majesty, but… I don't see why you consider Amadeus to be my best friend."
The prince gave a confused blink. "Whatever do you mean, Saura?" he inquired, fidgeting with his walking-staff upon the ground in the opposite claw. "You are always together, and speak most amiably to one another at the brunch table. You are partners, and inseparable? I cannot imagine anyone else you would consider so close."
"That's…" Saura said, hesitating for a moment. "That's the thing, Prince Coronus. You've told me that from the start, but… I don't see what you're talking about. I enjoy the brunches as much as you do, but… I've never considered myself close to… well, any of them. Even Amadeus. Look, I know you're trying to make us all friends, I know you're trying really hard, and that's why this is difficult for me to say. But…"
He stopped talking, dropping his gaze downward in shame of everything he'd spoken.
"In all honesty, I think I'd consider you my best friend, Prince Coronus. And not because of anything I've done. You just seem to really like me for some reason. You like all of us. I guess I… I guess I just don't know what you want of us."
"Oh, oh Saura," Coronus said quickly. "I only want you to be happy, is there anything wrong with that? And I… well, I…" he quickly thought of a believable lie. "I was under the impression that you and Char… I mean to say, this particular Char… were already acquaintances, given that I found you together in a cave."
"Yeah but… we just met," Saura told him. "I found a Charmander asleep, I woke him up, then I tried to hide from you because I thought you were with the Master. But we didn't… really know each other. And… We still don't, not really. Look, don't get the wrong idea. I don't dislike Amadeus. I have a lot of respect for him. But he… they're just… they're just not the type of Pokémon I enjoy spending all my time with. If I were to be honest."
"…Oh. Well." Coronus could only say. "I… I see."
On the inside, he was quelling a bit of his own panic and listening to his own rambling thoughts.
Char and Saura not friends? There are… oh, there are very few timelines where Char and Saura haven't been instant friends. They have chemistry. They click together on a natural and biological level. So… what has gone wrong this time? What has kept them so apart? They looked like they were getting along fine. What in the name of Dialga's royal blue rump did I get wrong this time? Is it only because they have nothing to bond over? Because they did not fight together? They had no war? Does one truly need a war to forge a friendship?
"I can understand this," hissed the prince, trying not to betray his disappointment and confusion. "I am not one to decide your taste in friends. But I hope this does not mean you no longer wish to dine with me? We've a feast to attend tonight, you know!"
Saura laughed awkwardly. "I don't know, I think I might still be full from my half-hatchingday dinner! But no, Prince Coronus, I could never say no to your kindness. I'll still be there every morning. I just… wanted you to know how I felt about Amadeus, since you always wanted us to get along."
"I see, I see," Coronus said again with an unnerved sigh. "And what do you think of the others?" he asked probingly. "Do you have thoughts about them as well? What of Aether?"
"Aether is not someone I would consider a friend, exactly," Saura confessed. "She's more of an elder that I respect. She teaches me things. She knows how a lot of wild Pokémon behave."
"And Adron? What of him?"
"I certainly feel safe with him around," Saura replied. "But I don't really know a lot about him. He doesn't like to talk about himself. He likes keeping secrets."
"And Rautzen?"
"…I have to ask, who is this 'Rautzen' you keep naming?" Saura asked oddly, looking straight at him. "You've mentioned him a dozen times."
Coronus felt a repressed memory beginning to surface.
He pushed down upon it, but it bubbled into his consciousness…
Charon, his ghostly companion. Saying something. Something about eggs.
No! Don't remember. Don't remember.
Something he'd tried to block out of his own mind. A memory he'd tried to rewrite, repeating it until he could make it come true.
I will not remember. I will not remember. Please don't remember…
…
The Chandelure was floating in front of him with a displeased scowl. "That's not even the right Pikachu," he said cuttingly.
"Nonsense!" said the Nidoking. "I'd always recognize Ray. That is clearly him."
"No, that's Rautzen, you thick-toed idiot," said the ghost, "Ray is still in the egg! In fact, he is probably dead now, with no brother to protect him. How far you've fallen, Redeemer. How you've lost your talent… not even remembering something as simple as a Pikachu's age."
"This entire plot of yours is deplorable," the Chandelure added. "And I will have no part in it. No good will come of this."
"NOBODY! …Nobody," he shouted all of a sudden, trying to speak over his memories. "Just a… a Raichu I once knew, who… who looked similar to… Ray. Raikouun. I apologize…"
"Heh, well… he's alright, I guess," Saura said with a smile. "He can be exasperating, but he knows how to cheer me up. I like to spend time with him. Ah, that reminds me, Prince Coronus… there's something else I need to talk to you about. I don't really call myself friends with Amadeus, but he does tell me things sometimes. He told me that he has solid plans to leave and explore the west."
Snap!
Coronus idly realized that he'd clutched his walking stick so tightly that it had snapped apart like a twig.
"Ah yes, I do believe he's been trying to imply this for a while," he replied, forcing the fakest smile in all of Amaranthine. "I do wish he'd reconsider, though; I value his company too dearly."
I cannot allow him to escape, absolutely I cannot, Coronus roared in the silence of his mind. If I were to lose my friends… it would be no different than letting them die. I would be alone with all these despicable and meaningless projections… these soulless husks of actors I've left behind decades ago. And with no reason not to just destroy this timeline and everything I've worked for.
Especially him. Especially the human. I cannot lose him. I cannot… I cannot just let him become that bumbling Charmander again. He doesn't deserve that. He deserves to be here with me. To be the bright and intelligent human he truly is. Or… as close to one as he can manage.
But Saura cast him a pleading glance.
"You should let him go, Prince Coronus. Really, you should," said the Ivysaur pointedly. "He really wants to explore the world. I mean… I would too, if I had wings. And who knows? Maybe he'll bring back books for his library."
Coronus gave a huff that he hoped the Ivysaur didn't notice. "I'll consider it," he said flatly. "But I don't see why he would want to leave. There are a million other Pokémon here who could just as easily bring us those books, without risking my favorite dragon in the world falling into the ocean and snuffing his tail-flame out."
"But…"
"I assure you, he has everything he could ever want right here. His favorite foods, leagues upon leagues of clean open air to practice his flying… I've worked tirelessly to provide it all. "
"…But…"
"Please help him see things my way, Saura. Tell him that he must stay. He is honorary Amaranthinian royalty, elevated to a status even the highborn can only dream of. There is nothing of value to him on that benighted continent. He will only become – "
"But Prince Coronus…" Saura said, butting in harshly. "I thought you said he was your friend."
"What?! Of course he is! I take offense that you thought otherwise," snapped Coronus.
But Saura only frowned harder. "You're the one always going on and on about us being your friends. Throwing feasts for 'your friends'. Sharing brunch with 'your friends'," he shot back. "Amadeus really wants to fly around the world. It's the deepest dream of his. He's told me. To keep him from that dream… Is that something a friend would really do? Maybe he needs something more than… y'know… food and books. Maybe he needs something that the wealth of a prince can't give him."
Saura looked at the ground again.
"I'm sorry…" he said, pawing at the ground. "Look at me again, biting the hand that feeds me… I didn't mean to snap at you. I know you're just trying to make him happy. I guess what I'm saying is… maybe in order to make him happy, you have to let him do what he wants, and not what… not what you want. Because I think that's what being a friend means. Otherwise… what would we all be? Your servants? Your pets?"
Oh, if only you knew, Coronus said silently in his boiling anger, staring at the icy clouds high in the stratosphere. I've been doing what that godforsaken Charmander wanted for longer than you will ever comprehend. I've been his loyal pet for the last time.
I'm only making him kindly return the favor for once.
"Like I said, Saura, I'll consider it," falsely reassured the Starborn prince as he climbed to his feet, collecting both pieces of his favorite staff. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to see how tonight's ball is coming along. You'll be there, won't you? The Owl Choir will be there – your favorite."
"Yeah, I'll be there," said the Ivysaur forlornly as he shifted himself and stared at the sky. "Thank you, Prince Coronus."
On the way down the hill and into the sparkling streets, Coronus realized that his bubble of warmth had expired when he felt the sting of a particularly sharp breeze. The war was averted, he said in reflection, but why do I still feel like I'm fighting a war? And losing, at that?
No matter. The grand ball would soon be enough to drown those meaningless worries out of his skull.
The ball was not coming along as smoothly as Coronus had hoped.
It was quite unacceptable, in fact. When he checked on the dining hall some two-hours before the event was to begin, the curtains had been hung lopsided, the table was not set, and there were dozens of Gardevoir running around with their heads cut off (figuratively, of course) yelling about guest lists and dirty dishes and disasters in the kitchen. It was all quite pathetic, really, how nobody could seem to be able to do their job.
"Your Highness!" said a Gardevoir to the displeased Nidoking as the trudged through the less-than-half-prepared ballroom. "The Duke of Northtail and his cohorts have declined our invitation…"
"Nonsense, nonsense," Coronus shouted. "I insist! Tell them that they must attend the ball, or they will be excommunicated!"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Royston! I have announcements to make, and I will not have anyone declining attendance! All must hear the news!"
"Y-yes, Your Highness."
Another one got in his way, exclaiming, "My Prince, the Embroar might not be cooked in time!"
"Can you not just turn up the fire?"
"My Prince, cooking does not work that way, especially on a fire-type beast…"
"Nonsense! Things cook faster when you turn up the fire! Even I know that, and I'm not a cook!"
"My Prince," said another, "We've not enough wine! We've used it too quickly!"
"Smaller glasses, then!" he declared, shoving his way through the room. "And dilute the wine with berry juice. Call it an artisan concoction!"
Soon, though, the prince tired of all these servants asking for his advice about things they should have already known for themselves, and he was inspired to retreat to his room for some privacy, and to decide what to wear.
Clothing was another of Amaranthine's proud traditions; it was considered uncouth for civilized Pokémon to tromp around naked, as they did in the uncultured west. In emulation of human society, Amaranthinian nobility wore all sorts of accessories to show off their proud wealth, and clothweaving was a lucrative industry and asset to the economy. Of course, nobody had a larger wardrobe than Coronus; while his father liked to trounce around with armor, not unlike Adron, Coronus considered himself more of a mage, a Pokémon who knew hundreds of elemental techniques, and thought it more suitable to wear colorful robes and vestments that would wave in the wind and catch the eye.
On his way up the stairs, Coronus was mentally rummaging through his options. He liked the red gowns, but he'd already wore those for both of the balls last month. He also liked black, but sometimes it reminded him too much of the tattered thing he'd been stuck wearing for seemingly a thousand years, and he preferred not to remember it.
I need something joyful and royal, something befitting of victory, he told himself. This is not a somber occasion. This is a true celebration. I need something that inspires confidence and ideology. Perhaps violet. Ah yes, gold and violet, just as my father used to wear. What better way to show my subjects that I bring them strength and security under my rule? And he was fitting together the details and accessories of his outfit as he sauntered through the long hallway back to his master bedroom.
His ear twitched. A sound came from an unexpected direction.
Adrenaline mixed with the poison in his blood, and he froze stiff, holding his breath, just as he would in the old days of infiltrating the Solemn Fortress or gallivanting through mystery dungeons. Nobody was supposed to be in this wing of the castle, not now. Perhaps Adron? No, he would not be so careless; Adron never made a sound while he spied on his victims. And besides, he was elsewhere, keeping an eye on the visiting company.
His large, vigilant ears took note of every sound, from the wisp of the chilly wind through the windows down the hall, to the call of the messenger-birds making their way around the district.
There it was again – a sound that shouldn't have been there, and a vibration in the floor. Someone or something was certainly nearby. By instinct, Coronus wanted to ask Charon to investigate, but remembered he was on his own by choice. No matter, though; he was a royal mage, more than capable of defending himself. What could possibly threaten him?
Just as he was squinting into the shadows down the hall, the sky hit an arbitrary threshold of duskiness, and the castle's ghost-torches flared to life, illuminating the full length of the corridor. After recovering from the start it gave him, the Nidoking focused on his bedchamber doors to find that they were cracked open.
Someone was in his room. Uninvited.
Perhaps it is housekeeping, possibly a Gardevoir, he realized. Or perhaps Amadeus or Saura, or someone else who is perfectly welcome in my room. I do not think this calls for any caution. And so he straightened his shoulders and resumed his casual pace, wondering with every step who would be revealed behind the doors.
He extended his claws and swung open both doors, and was immediately relieved to find that the mysterious intruder who'd infiltrated his room was none other than Calamar, his beloved Infernape friend, searching through some of his dresser drawers for something. He gave a deep sigh of relief.
"Calamar, good evening," Coronus said jovially. "Is there anything you need?"
The Infernape, surprisingly, did not turn to face him, keeping his attention fixed on the contents of the drawers.
"Calamar?"
Coronus frowned. The fire upon his head – was it burning brighter than normal?
"Is that my name, Prince Coronus?" said the Infernape with strange menace in his tone. "Is it truly?"
Coronus blinked. "Excuse me…?" he chuckled nervously, drawing nearer. "What do you mean?"
"Tell me something, Prince Coronus," said Calamar, still refusing to look the Nidoking in the eye. "What is 'The Call'? Do you know anything about a power known by this name?"
The words sent an icy chill through the Starborn's veins. He stuttered for a moment, searching for a good lie, and wondering to the great gods above where the Infernape had heard of such a thing – The Call wasn't even supposed to exist in this timeline. He'd avoided contact with Temporal Tower entirely, or so he thought.
"I've never heard of such a power," Coronus said simply. "Where have you heard of it? Why do you ask?"
"Alright then, let me ask you a different question," Calamar said, disregarding his questions. "What of a power called the 'Dimensional Scream'? Have you heard of that one?"
Coronus grimaced, but found no reason not to answer truthfully. "Indeed, I know of such a power. Pokémon with this power are said to sometimes see visions of the past and the future when touching objects that are pivotal to their destiny… but generally this power only manifests when such objects, as well as the user of the power itself, are exposed to the influence of… a time gear."
"Like this one?" said the ape.
He held up a chain. A small, cogged artifact hung from it.
Coronus felt his heart flare with enough rage to match the blaze of the Infernape's crown. "Where did you find that?" he demanded, drawing nearer.
But the Infernape spun around. His stance was confrontational. Fury burned in his eyes.
Coronus gave pause.
"It called to me," Calamar said. "From down in the dungeons, it called to me. Deep beneath the surface of the earth, I found this, along with… the old castle. And when I did… the Dimensional Scream began to manifest. And I have seen the past."
"Give me that," Coronus demanded, reaching for the chain. But the Infernape yanked it away.
"I've seen the past," the Infernape said again. "I've seen everything you've done, you coward. The fatestream has shown it all to me."
"I don't understand… Calamar…"
"My name is Prince," he growled. "But you've torn that future away from me, haven't you? Torn away my divine destiny? Torn away all the good I could have accomplished for this world? And for what? For feasts and dancing and company at the brunch table?"
"Calamar… Please understand…"
"I've always known something was wrong about my life," said the Infernape, backing away from Coronus. "I've always felt something missing. Where is Canniah? Where is Kabir? Where is Legend? Hmm? You've taken them from me. You've taken them from everybody. You've destroyed our destiny. You've rewritten the timeline so that none of them had a chance to be born."
"Calamar…"
"Do you realize what's happening right now?!" Calamar shouted. "Do you realize the bloodshed you've caused?"
Coronus stomped his foot, causing the whole chamber to shake.
"I'VE SEEN MORE BLOODSHED THAN YOU WILL EVER KNOW," roared the Starborn Nidoking. "I've personally watched you die no less than seventy times. And that's not half of the amount of times I've watched Adron die. Or Char. I've had enough of it all, Calamar. I've had enough of seeing ten thousand Pokémon die at the foot of the Astral Throne. I've had enough of Enigma. I've had enough of that blasted Call. Do not talk to me of wars and bloodshed."
Calamar gave a dire scowl. There was pity and disgust on his face.
"What… what have you done…?" he hissed. "Coronus… what have you done?"
"What have I done? I've created a world where you are happy! You, the six Pokémon in the world most deserving to be happy… and I've made you happy! What's so wrong about that? Do you realize how many tries this took? Do you realize the effort I put into every little detail of getting you all here in one place, alive and unmissed? I'm quite proud of my work, Calamar, thank you very much. I stand behind it."
"OUR TIMELINE IS NOT CONNECTED TO ANYTHING!" shouted Calamar, slamming the chained amulet down on the marble floor. "NONE OF US ARE REAL! YOU'VE DESTROYED US ALL! YOU'VE KILLED EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER LIVED!"
The two stared spitefully at one another for the larger portion of a minute. The fire upon the Invernape's crown nearly flared to the ceiling.
"Nothing matters anymore, because of you," growled the Infernape. "You… you were supposed to be the redeemer… but who are you now? Nothing but a murderer and a destroyer. I'm ashamed to have ever called you my friend."
The next thing Coronus knew, he had Prince pinned against the floor.
Coronus first noticed that all of the Infernape's fire had gone out. He noticed this even before he noticed the icicle that extended from his right claw and impaled him through the chest.
He knelt beside the corpse of his friend for many long minutes, hypnotized by the sound of his own deep breathing. Watery blood pooled upon the floor.
Ten minutes later, the Starborn had mopped everything with a bedsheet, then mummified the body in said bedsheet and shoved it beneath his dresser.
As he changed into his royal violet robe, the Nidoking's only recurring thought was: I should have brought Lykios.
(Part 2 of 4)
Special thanks to ShadowVulpi for motivating me to finish this!