History didn't end with a grand curtain call when the Beast of the Land cast down the Great Whale of the Seas. It choked as rivers boiled over and evergreen groves shriveled up. Cities of old sank into red dust, scorched by the merciless sun. They w...
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A jagged steel feather hit the desk with a thunderous clap, raising a cloud of dust into the air and tumbling down a jar of glistening ink. Black droplets trickled down the iron, dripping on the old parchment. The hall fell quiet. Heavy, tedious pants broke the ringing sound of silence.
"Sekhmet..." A young sandslash let out a breath he was holding. His razor-sharp claws reached out for the spikes hanging loose from his head to brush them back into place.
"I demand an audience," A tinkaton wiped a stain of ash off her face, her cowl still covered in sand. Dried blood, which she never bothered to clean, marked her nose.
"Cheops is attending the burial, as is his duty. You're well aware of that," the pangolin whispered, paws locked behind his back. "I'm afraid-"
"You... will bring me the guildmaster." She leaned over the table, fingers shamelessly grabbing his fur and pulling him close enough to feel her metallic breath on his nose. "NOW."
"That is..." Sandslash paused, poise breaking under the pressure. His lips twitched, but the words wouldn't come.
She squinted, letting him finish. Her gaze burned like live coals.
"That is not in my power. I can't break the ceremony-"
"Distortion, take the ceremony!" Sekhmet's voice cracked. She pulled on his hair harder. "We are shedding tears over the sand while the traitor gets away."
No sound escaped the pangolin. He gulped.
"I was THERE, Hotep. I was with them when he left us for dead under the rubble," she hissed, fingers gripping so tight they almost tore a patch of his fur.
"I'm not..." he croaked, finding resolve. "I'm not questioning your claims. The tribe is in mourning. We shall honor the fallen and send them on their way, as they would have wanted."
"They would have wanted us to keep fighting, not cry over their bones, you parchment-pushing idiot!" Tinkaton screamed. "One of our own turns away from our oaths, and all you can offer is prayers?"
"We are in tatters, Sekhmet!" the pangolin snapped. "We don't have enough guards to protect what we own, let alone chase ghosts through the desert. Do you hear yourself?"
Her fingers let go, letting him breathe. He stumbled behind the desk.
"You have me." She lowered her voice.
"The only Pokémon who survived. And now you expect me to send you back out there alone? Or do you want me to line up rookies for a suicide mission?" Hotep shook his head, emotion breaking through the impartial facade. "We need you back home as we try to pick up the pieces."
"He-"
"I know!" Sandslash shot back, voice shaky. "I know what he did. But this is no time for vengeance. I'm sorry."
