They weren't about to deal with some unknown number of strange, floating robes that, according to Mhynt, could take over their minds and parasitize their bodies. Instead, they retreated deeper into the caves as Mhynt pooled odd clouds of darkness in her palms, spreading them on the ground. It looked like she was drawing two large wings in the soil.
"Is this supposed to help you conjure your powers?" Trina asked. "Can't you bring it about on command?"
"For short bursts," Mhynt said. "This would be some of my strongest abilities. I need time to prepare. Gather my strength." The Treecko glanced at Trina. "Unless you'd like to risk tumbling aimlessly through Ultra Space again?"
Trina stiffened and stepped back. "Take the time you need."
Mhynt smirked and continued outlining her shadow. Occasionally, Trina watched outside the cave to make sure nothing would sneak up on them, and thankfully, they had evaded detection for the time being.
"Where will we be going?" Trina asked.
"With luck, back home by retracing our steps. We weren't tumbling for too long, and thankfully Ultra Space is still, to an extent, space. Therefore, distance matters."
Trina couldn't imagine something where distance didn't matter, but she decided not to question it.
"By the way," Mhynt said, "why aren't you changing to Serperior?"
"Hm?"
"You seem like the sort of person who would want to look as dignified as possible. Not to offend... Only an impression I had."
She was a little offended. Trina straightened her back. "Well," she said, "as much as I would prefer a larger size, I also did not have the time to go to Xerneas while he prioritized others. Triage. I must re-evolve the normal way until he has time."
"But you're Radiant—ah, Mystic, hm? The power may not be the same, but it lets you toy with your body as another plaything of the world. You can easily do the same."
"I... do not have the power to do so," Trina said.
Mhynt paused her drawing to look back. "Even Owen, who gave up all of his spirits to Enet, can still shift his form if he must."
"I do not house spirits within me in the same way. They maintained the Dungeon I resided in and, after the Voidlands, were... lost when I evaporated upon leaving. I do not know where they went afterward."
"Hmm... They should have gravitated back to you," Mhynt said.
They couldn't have been... erased, right? Hecto and the others said that wasn't possible. If so, where had they gone?
"Well," Mhynt said, "I hope we can find them when this mess is sorted out. Regardless, where did your power go?"
"I gave it to the mutants under my control before," Trina said. She saw the surprise and concern in Mhynt's otherwise stoic expression. "It wasn't to make them dangerous. It was to help them stay in control while I was gone."
"Ahhh. I see." Mhynt nodded. "That's very selfless of you." She returned to her nearly-complete drawing. "And reckless, of course, by sending yourself into the Voidlands straightaway. At least you maintained enough power to hypnotize Team Alloy in case something went wrong."
"That was the hope," Trina said, feeling a pang of guilt. "...I don't like the power, you know. But it's necessary. I suppose I grew... used to it."
"You don't have to justify anything to me," Mhynt replied dismissively. "I know all about how power can make you lose perspective. So often, Legends are, despite once being mortal themselves, just as naïve as any other in the world.
"Mm. That's true."
Mhynt finished the first crescent of Lunala's head. "Being able to hold your authority while sacrificing so much... It's admirable if it pays off. But for others who can see the benefits and disregard the risks..." Mhynt chuckled.
"What?" Trina pressed. "I'm not careless. I'm—"
"No, no." Mhynt held up a free hand while tracing the final crescent out. "I wasn't saying it was bad. It could have gone badly, but it didn't. A lot of plans are like that. I was only thinking about... how similar it is to the one you've been hanging around with more."
"Hanging around with—you mean Gahi." Trina rolled her eyes. "I don't see your point."
Mhynt smiled wryly and completed the drawing. "Alright," she said, stepping back so her feet were at the bottom tips of the shadow's wings. "Time to get this working. Trina, could you provide some power as a catalyst for this? My Radiance is not as strong as yours, so I'll need a boost."
"Is Radiance what's needed to awaken it?"
"Of course. Lunala are inherently like that when divine. It'll help... reawaken me."
"Well." Trina sighed and brought her little arms forward. Warmth and light flowed from her shoulders into her fingertips. "I'll do what I can."
The Snivy then channeled that power toward the Treecko, and that light went from her shoulders into the ground, flowing into the shadow of Lunala. Light first flowed around it like an outline before bleeding inward, pooling mostly in the eyes and along the crescent of its wings. Trina was certain that it twitched.
At the same time, darkness pooled around Mhynt's feet, submerging her to her ankles.
"Good work. That will do," Mhynt said, smiling enough that Trina could barely notice, and then fell as if through a trapdoor.
"Ah!" Trina stepped forward to grab her, but a column of darkness made her recoil on reflex.
The shadow lifted itself from the ground and gained some colors. Cosmic blues and purples accented themselves with bright gold. Glowing eyes stared down at Trina.
"Good work," Lunala said. A psychic force wrapped around Trina; she flailed for a split-second, but then kept herself dignified and accepted it.
"How long will this last?" Trina asked, trying to distract from her brief panic.
"A few minutes."
Trina stared, brow furrowed.
"...Less than half a kilo," Lunala translated.
"That's not much time. Hurry." Trina nodded.
Lunala's gaze shifted to something behind Trina. There, at the cave entrance, three of those odd faceless creatures were approaching...
"Nihilego," Lunala hummed. "We shouldn't have to deal with these."
"We're a bit cornered," Trina said. "Why are they coming now?"
"Curiosity with my energy. Let's not take any risks." Lunala flew toward the far wall. A rift formed, circular like a tunnel, and they fell inside. Trina held on tight, squeezing her eyes shut, but it wasn't overwhelmingly bright this time.
All around them were those cosmic swirls from earlier that Trina couldn't fully understand. Space? Some strange place between? The passive energy in the area tickled her scales. She wondered if it was dangerous to mortals.
"I want you to focus on anything reaching out to you," Lunala said. "I will focus on flying. Direct me to what your spirit is drawn toward. With luck... you will know."
"Is this something I would know through instinct?" Trina asked, realizing that she couldn't hear her voice. The air felt so thin here. Was there even air?
Lunala didn't reply. Trina followed her 'spiritual instincts,' whatever that meant. She looked at the wormholes in the strange rift, each a tunnel to some other realm she wasn't aware of. Something that would draw her... there was no way something like that was mundane. Perhaps it was a Mystic attribute, then, that could cross realms. And if that was the case...
"There," Trina said, pointing at a tunnel that, from her perspective, was only a few seconds of flying away. Lunala obeyed.
"Brace yourself," Lunala warned. Trina pressed herself against Lunala's back and wrapped her vines around any spot she could find purchase.
It felt like everything compressed around her. A tight, ethereal blanket. She couldn't let go of Lunala if she wanted to. Then came light, and then a horrible battering of sand. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath as the sandstorm thickened. Rough grains pelted her in buckets.
Then, she heard whistling... singing. She knew that sound.
"Gahi's near!" Trina called, then spat out the sand that got in her mouth.
"Of course you'd find him first," Lunala hummed. "I can't see very well in this sandstorm, though. Did he create it?"
Something roared in the sandstorm. Lunala suddenly banked upward and then took a hard left. Only thanks to her vines was Trina able to maintain her hold and not fall away.
The sandstorm thinned but not enough for the Snivy to peek. She breathed cautiously. Clear enough. Sand stopped pelting her scales so she dared to open her eyes.
No sand, but the sky was a dreary gray. But at least it was, for the most part, a natural color to expect from the sky.
"Oi!"
Trina suddenly looked back—and there he was. The Flygon, shining even in the dim light, sped and Teleported toward them, stopping just as quickly. "How'd y'get 'ere?"
"You recognize me?" Lunala asked, cocking her head to the side while keeping her wings spread, hovering by some spectral force.
"Nah." Gahi pointed at Trina. "Anyway, who're you, Wings?"
"Lunala, but you also know me as Mhynt."
"Oh." Gahi narrowed his eyes. "Huh. Prefer y'as a Treecko."
Lunala chuckled. "Well, like the others, I can choose which form to take... and this one's time is running out anyway. Is there a safe place to land?"
"Eh, yeah."
Trina noticed that the strange roaring had stopped. "By the way, when we came in here, there was... something in that storm. What was it?"
"Oh, that? Yeah, that was ol' Bitey. Met'm here and while we were tryin' ter figure out a way back, he kept chasin' us. Got fed up, started fightin'. Was kinda fun, so we sparred fer a while. Demitri 'n Mispy must've tuckered 'em out."
"...Bitey," Lunala said. "That must have been a Guzzlord. And you tired it out. Mm. I don't know if I should be disappointed or surprised."
Gahi rolled his eyes and disappeared behind Lunala, holding out a hand for Trina. With a little smile, she hopped onto his arm and then shoulder.
"Well," Trina said, "Lunala, if you're running low on time, do we need to rest?"
"Only for a short while, but I would appreciate it."
They descended to the wasteland's terrain. Lunala evaporated into a cloud of black smoke, leaving behind a Treecko to dust herself off. She did, noticeably, look much more sluggish than before.
With their bearings gathered and Trina finally taking a breath to relax, they watched the sandstorm subside. Mispy was tending to a few minor wounds that Demitri had suffered, and by some miracle, all three of them were sane, though they all had crazed expressions. Trina offered to calm them, and they, after some reluctance, accepted.
With more normal expressions, the five all enjoyed the quiet, occasionally disturbed by the sounds of deep, rumbling snores by the behemoth buried in the sand a few stone's throws away.
During that brief break, Mispy whispered something to Demitri, who nodded.
"So, um," Demitri started, "what happened back there?"
"I wasn't able to see everything," Mhynt said, "but I'm pretty sure Necrozma was overtaken by a part of Dark Matter that we hadn't detected. One that was hidden beneath a veil of light... Necrozma's weaker half."
"Valle..." Demitri shook his head. "That's horrible. Poor Valle..."
"We can pity him after we've freed him," Mhynt said. "Unfortunately, Valle is gone now. Part of Necrozma... who is under Dark Matter's control. That makes three pieces of Dark Matter accounted for, and one final unknown somewhere on Kilo."
"Where could that last part be?" Demitri asked. He tapped a claw on the ax on his left cheek, sighing. "We checked practically everywhere..."
"Everywhere except the unthinkable," Mhynt pointed out, "or otherwise inaccessible. If we can't trace them otherwise... they are either hiding in a random civilian—which surely Diyem would spot—or he's hiding behind another established power, waiting for the right opportunity to take control."
"...So we gotta do a deep dive on every single Guardian," Gahi concluded.
"Essentially, yes," Mhynt said. "And a cursory look isn't enough, either. But... that will be for later." She sighed. "First, we need to find a way to get back to the others. And for that... we will need to rest and figure out how I can fly all of you at once. Ultra Space is not an easy place to travel..."
"We can't just fuse?" Demitri asked. "Is it... dangerous?"
"It hardly has air," Mhynt said. "You have no means to propel yourselves without special powers."
"I got those," Gahi said, swirling his claws to create little bubbles of Psychic energy.
"But will that be enough, hmm..." Mhynt looked genuinely contemplative. "We could try. But failure would mean you become lost to Ultra Space, and recovery will not be easy..."
"Oh." Demitri pulled out an ax, then clicked it back into place. "Um, how bad is Ultra Space?"
"It's not so bad," Mhynt said. "You're strong enough to survive. Maybe. Assuming you find a place with air. But otherwise, the main problem is you won't be able to find your way back home. Ever, possibly. I'm not sure where your spirit will drift even if you died here; the aura sea and so on are where the spirits of your world are held. For all I know, you'll drift straight into the Overworld if you die here."
"Th-then we need to get to the others soon!" Demitri said. "What if they're already—"
"I know. I agree. But we can't search blindly if your spiritual resonance doesn't guide us well enough."
"Now that we have the time," Trina spoke up, "I want to ask about that. Spiritual resonance. I don't believe any sort of emotional bond tied us together when I found Gahi, so what exactly is that?"
"Eh?" Gahi stopped picking at a scale on his cheek to look at Trina.
"It would be very poetic." Lunala chuckled. "But, no. You're right. It's not emotions; it's the Orbs within you two, even their mere essence, that resonates enough that you are drawn to them. It's the same force that helped draw you together now, and the force that Star and Barky had tried to counter for so long out of fear of what it would mean if all those powers gathered again."
"Then that means," Trina deduced, "we can find Kilo again, since it's filled with more of those Orbs, and wherever Owen and Zena had gone, too. But as for your other halves..." She offered an apologetic look to team Alloy.
"Oh, they will probably find their other halves on instinct anyway," Mhynt said. "A soul is a soul. At the very least, we can be confident that if either of their halves dies, they will probably find their way to them, so long as they aren't sealed like in the Voidlands."
"Heh... alright." Gahi nodded. "Guess that means we know exactly where ter go... by instinct alone! See? I knew my gut would go'n the right direction."
Trina sighed but couldn't help but smile. He was right... albeit with the wrong thought process. Mhynt gave Trina a coy look and she quickly composed herself.
Right. Soon, they would be going home, where, if they were timely enough, they could warn everyone about what was happening before anything bad happened.
<><><>
Kilo Village was in complete pandemonium. To the north, Nate was trying to subdue a light dragon with blasts of reddish energy. Every time Nate attacked, Angelo felt his powers completely disappear, and he had no idea why. Was that part of Nate's powers? Or was this something new?
Spice had picked him up—he was getting tired of being carried around like luggage—and fled to the Waypoints for safety. For many Kiloan citizens, evacuation drills were still fresh in their minds, and getting out was something that happened in an orderly fashion, aside from the panicked shouts.
In a flash, they went from Kilo Village to the recently repaired Milli Town, surrounded by newly made buildings and cobblestone roads. Angelo took a breath, trying to calm down.
He couldn't see Nate or the rift from here, but he could feel the shockwaves of their clashing. The sheer energy behind the attacks... That was their guardian, all this time. Kilo Village's protector.
In some ways, he felt guilty for being so afraid and suspicious of him for so long. The fearful glances, the flat statements of how scary he was...
Angelo realized that his Nate hadn't followed. Perhaps he couldn't stray far from the host body. He'd apologize later.
"You okay?" Spice asked, holding Angelo's shoulder.
"Y-yes. I'm fine. Thank you."
Spice left to check on others. Some seemed to be in shock, perhaps from the energy blasts overwhelming them. Angelo was surprised he wasn't part of that group.
Skies, his heart was racing in his chest. He could hardly hear. It was getting difficult to see, too. Oh—
Someone bit his shoulder.
"Yeowch!" Angelo stumbled forward and spun around, taking deep breaths. Horrible dizziness forced him onto his back. Warm fur suddenly surrounded him. It smelled of wood and made his fur tingle and rise from static.
"H-help! Help, I'm being hunted!" Angelo cried, struggling uselessly against his assailant.
In moments, he was staring at the wide, curious eyes of a Zoroark. She nipped at his snout.
"A-ah!"
She turned him around and stuffed him in her mane. Why did he have to be so small? Or was she just abnormally large?
"Enet," Angelo said, "why are you treating me like a child?"
"Scared," Enet said. "Make comfortable."
All around them, Pokémon were walking around and murmuring about the recent development. Some were already electing to go out and gather extra food and supplies for their new town while they acted as refugees. Some refused to be victims and tried to establish themselves as leaders of the hunt.
Angelo just wanted to rest. Maybe being restrained by this feral Zoroark was a good excuse.
"Spice was already looking after me," Angelo said. "Isn't... that like being checked on twice by the same person?"
Enet tilted her head. He wondered how many brain cells were operating on that line of questioning.
"Well, it's more like three times, in a way."
"AYEEEE!" Angelo flailed again, but Enet's mane proved too thick to escape.
Occupying the mane with him was a nearly incorporeal Lilligant. She glowed naturally, giving the inside of Enet's comically spacious mane some illumination.
"Why are you here?" Angelo whispered.
"I've kinda always been here," she said, curling up so her lower half was scrunched up against her chest. "I've been trying to help guide Enet more, since... well, we're the same person. It's... weird, but the more I'm with her, the more it does feel that way. Even if she's feral, we're in sync in a lot of little ways... At least... that's what I'm trying to tell myself." She laughed nervously.
"Oh, right, the Remi thing..." Angelo took a breath and leaned against the wall of fur behind him. His legs dangled out of the mane and he tried to find a comfortable, sturdy position.
"Oh, don't worry. You won't fall. Enet's using a bunch of static cling to keep you on her."
"Wha—oh. Electric. That's clever."
"I think she has no idea how it works and discovered it on accident. But hey! That's how it goes sometimes."
A distant shockwave shook the air. Angelo couldn't tell from there if the ground also trembled.
"So, er, with Enet... how is that going, anyway? With all the chaos, I haven't really... seen much of you around."
"The hardest part is seeing Dad worry about it," Amelia admitted.
"Oh, your... father, yes."
"He adopted me when I was just a little leafling in the woods," Amelia said, adjusting her orange flower with a sad sigh. "And then, uh, my other cosmic-not-really-but-kinda-sorta dad killed me, so, that's sort of awkward."
"I'm sorry?"
"Owen. He killed me a long time ago."
Angelo didn't know how to reply to that one. He stared, slack-jawed.
"I got over it."
"That's not—something to get over so casually!"
Amelia made a wobbly gesture with her leaves. "It was a few hundred years ago, you know? Time heals all wounds."
"You—died!? Time heals—"
"It's a spirit thing."
"Oh, of course. A spirit thing." Angelo slumped against the fur again, rubbing his eyes. "I just want to go back home and draw comics. Is that too much to ask?"
"I guess when you're so talented with other things, people want you to do more than your passion."
"Yes, well... I... understand that. I'm not going to back down if there are lives I can save easily. A-and the Hearts are respecting my... wish to not risk life and limb." He crossed his arms. "We've reached a point where there's nowhere safe, so of course I'm going to help."
"There you go," Amelia encouraged. "Not everyone's gotta be a hero. But at least you're helping where you can."
Angelo wanted to retort. He'd heard it before with patronizing eyes and a gentle tone like they didn't want to upset him. But this time, Amelia's words felt more genuine. Matter-of-fact.
"I suppose so," Angelo half-conceded. Then, as another distant shockwave put Angelo's fur on end, he asked, "So, you aren't scared at all? About... that. I can't imagine having some... other, totally different person from me that I'm somehow destined to become half of a whole with."
"Yeaaah..." Amelia sighed. "It's... a little scary because of... I mean, I have no idea how to comprehend it. I talked with Dialga about it. He said that the part that's going to be the hardest isn't yourself and how you feel—that's going to be fine. It's how everyone reacts to you being someone different. With me... it's going to feel natural. I'll be both at once. Enet and I, and Spice, we're pretty similar even if we're also super different. But... the people that might want only one of us—like Dad, with me, or Spice and her family—that's where it gets complicated."
"I think I understand. Like... like seeing a childhood friend after ten years, and you're not the same anymore."
"Yeah! I think." Amelia adjusted her flower again. "It just happens way more suddenly."
Angelo nodded. It wasn't his problem, but hearing about it, maybe she would do okay. If anything, it was Spice he was worried about. She seemed a lot more bothered.
Enet suddenly stopped walking and growled.
"Y-yes, Enet?" Angelo called.
Amelia frowned and disappeared in a flurry of embers, entering Enet's back. Angelo, meanwhile, shifted to part Enet's mane like peeking out of a berry bush.
He wished he hadn't.
The sky had turned a strange purple-blue patchwork of those horrible void rifts. The landscape was shifting without warning, leaving ripples of Dungeon bubbles that distorted the light. Some of them were only a few blocks away, completely obscuring the homes of some Pokémon in an instant. Cries sounded from them, and suddenly they were gone.
"Do I want to know?" Angelo asked.
Phol managed to evade most of the distortion and ran to them. Spice came from the other direction.
"Alright, new plan," Spice said, "we take cover and secure what we can before—"
Then came another shriek that was louder than the rest. More shouts—more chaos. Angelo couldn't focus on it anymore. During a passing glance, a wraith rampaged through. Spice roared something and ran toward it; more cries from the other end of their little pocket of safety pulled Phol away, conjuring his golden Protects.
"Help time!" Enet announced, plucking Angelo out of her mane and plopping him on the ground.
"Oof! And what do I do?!" Angelo asked, half annoyed, half panicked.
"Reflect and Light Screen," Phol said tersely. "Support us from behind."
"O-okay. I'll, uh, and I'll also try to give you boons in other ways," Angelo added, already drawing a series of sigils in the air. Squares, hexagons, pulses—he tossed them in a frenzy. He figured Helping Hand would be useful, tossing that where he could. Tailwind, yes! Tailwind will get everyone more mobile. He drew the breeze in the air and pushed them along, hoping his sheer will could tell friend from foe in the chaos.
Okay. Okay, wraiths. They were in a Dungeon now. Suddenly. After decades of new Dungeons not appearing ever.
Right before his eyes, the land shifted even more. Now, only the small street corner he'd happened to be in was its own Dungeon pocket. If he moved past it, would he find himself in a completely different place, or would it be freedom? Would he take that risk?
Of course he wouldn't. He could barely move his legs. Breathing was hard again; he was in a trance, repeating the same cycle of techniques to help the others, but he was getting sloppy. He saw wraiths where there weren't any. He heard shouts and he didn't know if they were imagined or not.
At some point, he collapsed to his knees and curled up, trying to hide in the chaos. He couldn't attack anymore. His spirit was so drained of energy—he'd expended himself too much, too quickly.
And he was going to die. He wasn't paying attention and he was going to die. Become a wraith afterward, too, wasn't he? He couldn't hear the chaos anymore. His blood was pumping too fast.
Warm fur wrapped around him. Strong claws held him gently.
"It's okay."
Right against his ear. He barely heard it. He made out enough details that it was Enet again. Everything ran around them like they were a boulder on the battlefield... Yes. Was it her illusions?
"Shh, shh."
Angelo had been whimpering. He didn't even realize it. In shame, he curled up again.
Do you resent them?
"I'm just so tired," he said. "I'm so tired of fighting. I'm not a hero...."
Do you want peace?
"I'm not some Heart that's supposed to dive into the fray. I just want to go home. I want things normal again..."
Put them to sleep.
Angelo sniffled again. He opened his eyes, realizing that he didn't recognize this voice. It was coming from... a Machop. A mere Machop, but there was a dark aura surrounding him. He was standing within Enet's illusion, but her gaze was focused on the action on the other end. Everything felt slower.
Something about that Machop felt familiar.
Take my power, the Machop said, but his lips didn't move. Angelo felt something cold run across his forehead, like an idea. A technique he knew, to pull from one's innate abilities and swap it with—yes! Skill Swap!
He was calmer. His fear was boiling into irritation and resentment. It felt cold, and yet it burned. He was forming his plan while Enet slashed from the darkness at wraiths that happened to get too close.
He drew a sigil and pointed it at Machop. In moments, a ball of light from Angelo and Machop switched places, entering the opposite Pokémon. His mind felt clearer and honed.
Whether or not he was hit also no longer mattered to him. That was probably reckless. Asinine. But Enet was keeping up an illusion, and if he was going to have no guard, that was the best time to do it.
Release it, the Machop said. Put this chaos into a void where it cannot hurt anyone. Plunge them into the depths where they came from.
A small, shrinking, logical side of him recognized these words as concerning, perhaps even dangerous. But he was already frenzied with resentment and bitterness toward everything that was happening around him. He had no control. The world did as it pleased and forced him to flee and survive. Sick, fatigued, afraid. No more. If this outburst would be his first taste of true power...
So be it.
NOW!
Angelo gladly complied, a vision of a ghoul of nightmares in the back of his mind. He carved a sigil into the air and covered it in a blob of dark paint, and then crushed it in his palm. He didn't care who it hit. Everyone. Just for some peace and quiet.
That cold bitterness hit its apex when Angelo finally released that power. A blackened ink covered the whole block. The screams all arose at once, shrieks and roars of so many species, and then... silence.
The Machop was gone.
"Wh-what was that?" Spice asked. "Angelo?"
"I... I don't know," Angelo replied as Hearts picked off wraiths while they slumbered. Some already began to stir again. Angelo, for all his rage, wasn't all that strong; it seemed their rest was only brief... but that was all the villagers and Hearts needed. He wobbled forward as if called by something. "I want to be alone... please."
"What? Angelo, it's not—"
"Please." He spoke firmly, coldly, and in a moment of lucidity, he realized this didn't feel like himself talking. But he was so tired. He let it happen.
"...Just stay in a nearby building, okay?"
"Okay." He wobbled toward any of them. Didn't care. Maybe it had a bed. He'd apologize if it was someone who still lived there.
The first one he found was a quaint home that seemed abandoned, like the residents had packed up what they had and left a whole moon ago.
Except for a single occupant.
In the back of the living room, sitting against the wall, was a black-flamed Charmander. Off to the side was what looked like a Machop-themed cloth... before realizing that was a hollowed-out body of some kind, dissolving into a black mist. A disguise? Or... No. The others mentioned that Dark Matter could change his form.
"Hello," Angelo greeted with a skeptical squint. "Aren't you..."
"We should talk." Diyem gestured in front of him. "Why not sit down and rest?"
There was always a catch. But the way he spoke, and that very small hint of brightness in the Charmander's eyes... This was the Diyem the team knew. The one that had a hint of light inside that dark core. Angelo could trust him at least for a talk—and he'd turned into a Machop to give Angelo the power to put down all those wraiths at once to help the fight.
Still...
"Alright," he said, sighing. "But... I'm not doing any hero work."
"That won't be a problem."