Transcendence

Super part 2: Ready set... Execute!

***

The tension in the room finally eased, and David chuckled, rubbing his temple.

"Oi, before we get too lost in this mission talk, I gotta ask... Alex, tell us more about that Kevin fella. The Shiny Absol you mentioned before-the one who was also a human and got misunderstood as an outlaw."

Alex's eyes flickered with familiarity at the name. Kevin...

A former human. A misunderstood outlaw. A lone warrior fighting to undo realities in where they were plagued by the Dark Pixies. The Chosen One.

With a smirk, Alex crossed his arms. "Now there's a story for ya."

As the three of them settled in, Alex began to tell the tale of Kevin the Shiny Absol-his struggles, his perseverance, and the burden of being both a human and a Pokémon in a world that refused to understand him as he risked his life with Ultra Necrozma.

For a brief moment, the war against Spectrier and Glastrier faded into the background.

***

The moonlight bathed Camelot in a soft silver glow, casting long shadows through the narrow streets. Midnight had arrived, and the trap was already in motion.

In the abandoned district, where the streets had once thrived with merchants and nobility, Caitlin and her group worked flawlessly. Her Illusion ability wove a masterful deception-false paths, eerie lights, and fabricated noises echoed through the streets, confusing and enraging Spectrier and Glastrier.

The steeds, accompanied by a small yet elite force of Lantonian soldiers, stormed through the labyrinth of illusions, their sheer presence warping the air with unnatural energy.

Spectrier whinnied, its violet mane flickering like ghostly embers, its hooves leaving shadows in their wake as it moved.

Glastrier, in contrast, stomped furiously, its breath cold enough to freeze the moisture in the air, frost spreading wherever its hooves touched the cobblestone.

As expected, the illusions steered them exactly where Calyrex wanted-a narrow, enclosed area that would limit their movement.

The resistance struck fast. Arcanine and Pyroar from the resistance unleashed flames, cutting off the army from Spectrier and Glastrier. Greninja and Decidueye worked to obscure the soldiers' vision, ensuring no reinforcements reached the steeds.

In the shadows of a ruined tower, Calyrex stood alongside Alex, David, and the rest of their group, watching as the trap slowly tightened.

Calyrex exhaled, his pale green aura flickering as he turned to the fighters beside him.

"They will be here any moment now." His voice was calm but laced with warning. "Remember-your primary mission is to stall them. I cannot stress this enough: do not engage them in direct combat. You will not make it out alive if you do."

He looked at Alex and David in particular, his eyes hardening.

"Spectrier's hooves do not merely strike. They kick the soul out of the body. A single mistake, and you may not get the chance to regret it."

Silence fell over Alex. The stakes had always been high, but now he truly understood.

Calyrex sighed, a rare moment of weariness showing through his usually regal demeanor.

"If only Zacian and Zamazenta were here... This would have been a cakewalk."

Alex blinked. "Who?"

Calyrex turned to him, expression unreadable.

"Lant's defenders. The royal knights. Zacian and Zamazenta." His voice grew distant. "They once protected this land from all threats, ensuring the kingdom thrived. But... thousands of years ago, I lost their artifacts-the Rusted Sword and Shield-due to the actions of a certain deranged Mismagius."

David frowned. "Mismagius?"

Calyrex's eyes darkened.

"A crazy banshee, if you will. One who sold herself to the devil for power beyond her control. And the lives she took..." He trailed off, the memory heavy in his voice.

For a moment, he was lost in the past, but the sudden sound of approaching hooves snapped him back to reality.

The ground trembled. The temperature shifted between deathly cold and suffocatingly dark.

Spectrier and Glastrier were near.

Calyrex inhaled sharply and turned to the group.

"They are here. Get ready."

As soon as Spectrier and Glastrier stormed into the narrow streets, Alex, David, and the resistance force descended from the rooftops and alleyways, blocking their path forward. The trap had been set, and now it was time to stall them.

David stepped forward, crossing his arms with a smirk. His Zoroark eyes gleamed in the moonlight as he taunted the steeds.

"Isn't this rich? Lant's so-called righteous kings... We meet again, ponies!" he sneered.

Spectrier and Glastrier came to an abrupt halt. The air around them shifted ominously, thick with icy mist and spectral energy.

They did not respond at first. Instead, their eyes glowed, scanning the assembled resistance fighters, Caitlin's illusionary work, and finally, their gaze locked onto Alex-the lone Riolu among them.

Then, with an eerie flicker of its ghastly mane, Spectrier broke the silence.

Spectrier gave a deep, theatrical chuckle, tossing its spectral mane as it turned its eerie violet gaze toward David.

"Close enough, indeed. But alas, thou art miserably mistaken. We are not kings, little wretch-we are the saviors of Lant! The fruits of labor and prosperity, whose vision ye mere peasants lack the intellect to comprehend."

Its voice twisted in mock lament, as if truly disappointed in their lack of understanding.

"Ah, behold! The would-be king, the failed sovereign, the relic of a time long past. Where is Calyrex?" Glastrier snorted. "We are something that Calyrex could never be-order, permanence, dominion! You wavered, you faltered, and so history has cast you aside. We? We remain. Immutable. Absolute." Glastrier taunted.

Spectrier, now addressing the Resistance.

"And what do we see here? A rabble, a gathering of the lost and the foolish! You struggle against inevitability, yet you cannot grasp it. You resist, but against what? Change? Power? The natural course of things? A most amusing paradox indeed. We are what you outlaws could never understand."

Glastrier and Spectrier turning to Alex, tilting their heads in exaggerated curiosity.

"And you... actually... we don't know who you are."

They exchange glances, then look back at him with mild bemusement.

"Irrelevant? Unremarkable? A spectator to history, perhaps? No matter. You, too, shall find your place-whether by choice... or by force."

Alex stood firm. "My introduction doesn't fucking matter. I'm not going down without a fight."

A pause-then laughter. Cold, mocking, relentless.

Spectrier sneered. "Oh, how quaint! Hear that, Glastrier? That flat, graceless tongue-so crude, so... informal."

Glastrier smirked. "Indeed! Not even the dignity of a proper accent. A nobody in speech, a nobody in battle."

Their hooves struck the ground, ice and shadow erupting around them.

"Come then, nameless one-let us put an end to this little delusion!"