Being called a prototype was new. Owen knew it was true, but there was something about actually hearing the word spoken by what was literally an improved version of himself that hurt more than he had expected.
"Har, that was very rude," Trina said. Her eyes were closed and her head was up. "You will apologize."
Har crossed his arms. "I only said the truth. I still owe him a lot."
"Can't you see how offended he looks?" Trina asked, motioning with a vine toward Owen.
In response, the prototype Charizard flinched. "I'm not offended."
"But you are a bad liar," Trina said. "That's ironic, coming from someone meant to be aware of all forms of body language."
"You don't say," Zena mumbled.
Owen glanced pleadingly at Zena; she returned his gaze with an apologetic smile.
Rhys cleared his throat. "Well, we have arrived, as promised. It is the morning after our first visit. Have you made a decision on whether you would like to come with us to Hot Spot Cave?"
Elder waved nervously at Trina, figuring he'd at least try to be useful during this conversation. He was so used to trying—and failing—to convince Guardians to give up their power that he didn't know what to do with himself when that wasn't his task.
"I have come to a decision," Trina said, "on how I will determine whether I will accompany you there."
"Yeah? And what's that?" Owen asked. "W-we have to fight them, don't we?"
Trina gave Owen a wry smile. "That's very interesting of you to say," she said. "Is that what you feel would be the most appropriate?"
Owen fidgeted with his claws. "I mean, what else would it be, right?" he said. "I bet our copies like to fight just as much as we do. And even if that's how we were supposed to be designed, I mean..."
Demitri and Mispy both looked at one another. Owen looked back.
"Hm?" Trina said. "Is something bothering you two?"
Demitri flicked his tail, avoiding anyone's eyes, even Mispy's. "Well, a little," the Haxorus said. "You told us... that we should be proud of what we are. But I don't get how we can." He tapped his left claws against his right arm. "That's why we wanted to come here again. Mispy and I don't... get what you mean."
"Hmm." Trina adjusted her coils. "I see. Because you believe that you have no control over your fates. Is that it?"
Demitri rubbed at his right tusk, pulling it out of its socket and snapping it back in. "I guess so," he said. "Is that it, Mispy?"
Mispy shrugged, unsure herself. "I feel..." But she couldn't finish.
"Lost?" Trina asked.
Demitri and Mispy shook their heads. "Not lost," they both said.
Owen saw Trina's eyes widen imperceptibly, but she masked it an instant later.
"Then you must feel cheated."
They shook their heads again.
"I think I get it," Gahi spoke up.
"Yeah," Owen said, nodding. "I think I know what they're feeling."
"What is it, Owen?" Zena asked. "Is it... that you don't know how you are?"
"It's a little bit of that," Owen said, glancing at Rhys. "But it's more like... I think Demitri and Mispy feel guilty when they feel good about something. Remember back when I talked to Brandon, and he said that my whole cleverness thing was just part of my design?"
The Lucario nodded. "Yes. I remember. You were quite hurt."
"Oh." Zena looked down, contemplative. "Is it because... you felt that a part of you that you felt was you... was just what someone wanted you to be?"
Owen sighed, giving a sad, yet relieved, grin. "Exactly. It's like a part of who I 'decided' I was, turned out to... not be my decision."
Trina chuckled. "None of us decide who we are." She motioned to the ceiling with a vine. "Not me, not your teacher, perhaps not even the gods themselves." She closed her eyes, nodding slowly.
Team Alloy all exchanged glances.
She went on. "Even I did not determine who I am myself. I was born alone and taken in by my brother and mother. I was shaped by my instincts and then polished by their upbringing. Are you not the same? The only difference is that while I was designed by the ancient hand of nature, you were designed by the careful thought of a father." Trina looked at the four of them. "We are not very different. And in the end, were you not happy?"
This seemed like a speech Trina gave often, how rehearsed it felt. Did she tell this to all of her artificial followers? Owen had to admit, it did feel reassuring, in a strange way...
"Happy? I mean—of course!" Demitri perked up. "We were happy before we started actually thinking about what we were. We were—stupid."
"Stupid?"
"Yeah," Owen went on after Demitri hesitated to answer. "I think what they mean is, before, they didn't know anything about themselves. So, of course they were happy. Ignorance is bliss, I guess? But,"—he turned around to face them—"don't you guys get it?" He waited, but when they didn't respond, he continued. "I dunno about us being the same like Trina's saying, but we still get to choose what we like about us, and what we want to change about ourselves."
"But is that our choice?" Demitri said. "What we like and what we don't?"
"I mean, kinda chipping scales at that point," Owen said, rubbing the top of his head. "C'mon, can't you cut me a break? The fact that you feel bad about fighting means you still get to choose!"
"B-but we want to fight."
"Then that's your choice."
"But then it's what we're designed to do!"
Owen shrugged, but kept his tone assertive. "So then, you're saying you don't have a choice but to not fight?"
"No, I—" Demitri blinked. He stared at his hands thoughtfully, squinting as if the answer was somewhere in his palms. "What?"
"If you're saying you were designed to fight, then if you wanted to fight your design, you'd have no choice but to not fight. So, either way, you don't have a choice. Fighting is following your design, and not fighting is going against it, because it was your design."
Mispy squinted at Owen, grumbling. "Book smart..."
"I ain't got a clue what yer saying," Gahi told Owen flatly. "Say it in an easy way."
Trina chuckled. "He's right, Owen. You should try to simplify it for your team."
"Uhh—" Owen sighed. "Rhys? Help me out?"
"I do not have a right to tell them how to think on this matter," Rhys said solemnly.
"Okay, but can you at least translate me?! Elder?"
"Oho... I'm afraid I am slightly lost myself, Owen."
"Owen means," Zena said, drawing Team Alloy's attention, "that your choice is whether or not you want to follow this part of your instincts, and when."
"My choice... is to make a choice?" Demitri said.
"No," Zena urged, leaning forward. "Your choice is that you get to decide when to fight, and when not to. Just as we all do." She looked up at the webbed ceiling. "I believe I understand what Trina is saying. We all have those choices. Which one will you make?"
Demitri and Mispy looked at one another.
"And you know," Owen said, "I don't think it's just that. I know that you guys want to fight. I do, too. It's just in our blood, right? But you know what makes it better for me?"
"What?" the other three asked.
"It's not just fighting. And I dunno if it ever was for a while. Sure, that's part of the fun. But—" Owen dug through the bag wrapped around his neck and pulled out his Badge. "We choose who we fight, and what we fight for," he said. "Eon wanted us to fight for him. But we don't have to. We fight for the world." Owen tapped the Badge to his chest. "C'mon, you know the chant! With me, say it! A thousand hands, a single heart, working and beating as one."
Zena tilted her head, but Owen had an expectant look in his eyes.
Demitri sighed, clasping his claws together. "Unite the lands, from worlds apart, until our battles are done."
Owen beamed and finished, "We serve Kilo and all its parts—under one name: The Thousand Hearts!"
Demitri, Mispy, and Gahi looked at Owen, entranced. They looked at his Badge, then at his chest, and then at his eyes. A bit of Owen's light seemed to shine in his team, flashes of a grin on all three of them.
"You're lame." Gahi beat his wing toward Owen, letting out a single snort to disguise a laugh.
Mispy looked at a few of her vines, wrapping them around stray strands of silk. "We choose... who to fight for."
Trina smiled slightly but then gave a short nod to Har and his team. "Then, do you choose to fight for your Guardians?" Trina said. "Depending on how this battle goes, I will decide on whether I shall join your cause or not. I would like to take you all to the sparring arena."
Owen looked at the three of them. "Well?"
They all nodded.
"You guys should cheer us on," Owen said to Rhys, Elder, and Zena.
The Serperior slithered further into the caverns, where only the dim glow of the Mystic-enhanced web led the way through.
"Who we fight for..." Demitri looked at Owen. "I never really thought about it like that, but, that's how we do it, huh?"
Owen nodded. "Seems that way to me, at least," he said. "Feeling better?"
"A little." The Haxorus relaxed a bit. "Actually, no. A lot. I feel a lot better if it means we can fight for the people we care about."
Mispy nodded. "Like you," she said to Owen.
"M-me?" he said. "But you're Team Alloy's leader, aren't you?"
Mispy giggled. "Officially."
Owen let out a nervous laugh, but then Zena gave him a gentle headbutt. "Owen, I think it was unspoken a while ago that you became the Alloy's leader. You give direction. You evolved first."
Gahi snorted.
"And," Zena went on, "I think there's something about you, Owen, that they look up to. You feel a lot like the eldest sibling, in a way."
Owen rubbed the back of his neck. "Aw, well, I guess if you guys need coordinating, I'm pretty good at the brainy stuff."
"So modest," Mispy mocked.
"H-hey, look! I'm just trying to take the compliment!"
They all laughed; even Rhys broke a small smirk. Har, Lygo, Ani, and Ax continued their walk alongside Trina, not breaking their marching pace, though they did grin at one another, too. Har's claws twitched briefly, but he shook his head right after, catching Owen's attention. He decided not to say anything.
A long, though lighthearted, silence filled the air for a while. The labyrinth muted their steps and echoes were next to impossible thanks to the layout of the walls. Owen briefly worried that his tail might set the web on fire. "Hey, Har?"
"Yeah?"
"How do you not set this place on fire when you sleep?"
"I sleep on a Rawst bed."
"Oh, you too, huh?"
"Everything else, I'm just careful. The fire isn't as hot as we make it out to be. Especially if you aren't in a battle or anything. I think there's an aura component so it's not so bad. Ethereal, y'know?"
"I thought that!" Owen said. "Maybe with some focus, I can make it just a warm flame, too. That'd be nice."
"Yeah. Why d'you ask?" Har asked. "Afraid of burning someone?"
"U-uh," Owen glanced at Zena. "I was just wondering." He eyed the webbing again, realizing that there was no light source aside from their flames. "Say," Owen remarked, "how come all this Mystic stuff is usually bluish?"
"Hm? Oh, that is merely the default color of aura," Trina said. "I believe that was a creative choice by Star."
"Of course," Owen said, sighing.
"Is that why the sky's blue?" Gahi asked.
"No, Gahi," Owen said. "The sky is blue because of the way different frequencies of light—"
"Oh, great," Ani said, rolling her eyes, "he's a brainy one, too."
"Hmph!" Har flicked his tail up. "I bet I'm smarter. Since I get more books and stuff, I probably know way more than he knows just from raw knowledge alone."
"Oh yeah?" Owen said, tail blazing yellow. "How big is your book collection?"
"I," Har said, "have the latest edition of ten different books on biology and botany, and I'm subscribed to Pokémon Physiology, so I'm getting new content every full moon."
Gahi squinted. "How d'you even get something like that all the way here?"
"The more normal-looking ones of our Queen's kingdom go in town," Har said, shrugging. "They pass. Like Ax. As long as he doesn't pull his tusks out, he looks mostly normal."
Demitri and Ax exchanged glances. The prototype Haxorus waved shyly. The upgraded Haxorus looked ahead with a shrug.
Owen smirked. "Well, I," he said, "have the latest edition of every Dungeon Exploration textbook in all of Kilo!"
"So, what, all four?" Har said.
"Th-they're very expensive!" Owen said. "I—I also have a collection on Pokémon physiology, and even the eighth edition of The Unabridged Encyclopedia of Pokémon Species.
"W-wait, there's an eighth?" Har suddenly perked up.
"Yeah, it came out really recently," Owen said. "Did you get it yet?" He couldn't hide the smug lilt in his voice.
Har shrank, but then looked at Trina pleadingly.
The Serperior sighed. "I will put it on the list."
They continued with their walk. Gahi eyed Lygo, sizing him up. They really were identical in appearance. "So, what makes y' better than me?" Gahi said. "Yer Owen said prototype, so, what? What's the improved stuff? Faster?"
"No, nothing like that," Lygo said, shaking his head. "And what's with your accent? Did you hit your head in your incubation chamber or something?"
"Oy, this accent's awesome! I picked it up from someone I ran into a long time ago."
"You mean the other Lucario? The dumb one?"
"Yes," Rhys said, "it was Fighting Guardian Manny who influenced Gahi's accent. He ran away out of curiosity for the outside world. Unfortunately, he was still in a very impressionable, malleable state, so to speak."
"Oh, so he didn't develop properly," Lygo said. "Makes sense."
"You asking fer a fight?" Gahi growled.
"I mean, that's what we're about to do."
"I think the accent is quite cute," Trina commented. "It's a shame it's attached to such a crass individual."
"Hey, I ain't crass!" Gahi said. "That's Owen's deal!"
"Crass, Gahi. Not Grass," Rhys said.
"And I meant the thick-headed Lucario," Trina clarified. "You, Gahi, I know little of."
"Oh," Gahi said. "Hmph. Well, I ain't gonna call it cute, either. It's cool."
Trina chuckled. "I see. I will take your word for it, Gahi. Now then, to answer your question on Lygo's improvements, it is actually not very much. The original Alloy prototypes were actually already close to what Eon considered optimal. Their largest flaws—that is, the instability you experience upon fusing together—were already fixed by you manually, is that correct?"
"A-actually, we're still working on that," Owen said.
"Hm? Oh, so you can't fuse together?"
"No, we can," Owen said. He motioned to Mispy. "I fused with her once or twice, and I fused with him, too," he motioned to Gahi, "but we're still practicing."
"We fused," Demitri added, patting Mispy's side.
"Hm, I see. That is wise. If that's the case, I won't have my four battle you as an Alloy. Instead, they will fight individually. I don't want the sight of your Alloy form triggering any unstable memories."
"Thank you," Rhys and Owen both said.
Trina quickened her pace and said to the others, "I would like to introduce our guests to the sparring arena. The web here is particularly tough and can weather some of the strongest attacks that I've had the pleasure of witnessing from my subjects, one being from Ax."
The Haxorus proudly held his hips with his muscular arms—or at least tried to.
The webbing here wasn't sticky, but the walls were still thick, white, malleable. Owen could tell that they would bounce against any sort of impact. The ground looked like a miniature desert of white silk, complete with lumpy dunes. Owen tested this by knocking a knuckle against it. It wobbled stiffly. Demitri glanced at Trina, but before he could ask his question, she said, "Please, test it out for yourself."
Demitri nodded and rammed into the wall with all his might. He sank an entire body length inside, the wall of silk bending in a gentle curve with the mutant Haxorus at the center. It then bounced him back with an equal amount of force. Rhys quickly manifested an aura shield to slow Demitri down, narrowly avoiding his huge body flattening him.
"Urgh—th-thanks," Demitri said, getting back to his feet with the aura shield dissipating. "That's really strong. Did you, er... make this?" he asked Trina.
She nodded. "Yes. It's quite useful, I think."
Demitri shifted nervously, and Owen could practically feel the words dancing at the tip of the muscular mutant's tongue. "Where did it come fr—"
Mispy smacked Demitri on the shoulder, sighing. "Will we fight?"
Trina smiled wryly. "Of course."
"Oh, actually, uh, so if you guys aren't going to fuse together, I guess that means I can't use my Grass or Mystic powers, either, huh?" Owen said. "That way, it'll be an even m—"
"That won't be necessary," Trina said. "Your counterparts will be able to handle that Mystic power without issue."
Owen did his best not to keep his fiery pride from getting the better of him. After Jerry, he knew to be open to an idea of a non-Mystic gaining an advantage. "Oh, yeah? How come?" he asked innocuously.
"Mutant auras were designed with Mystics in mind," Trina said. "Tell me, Owen. Have you fought a mortal before?"
"Y-yeah, I have."
"How well did it go?"
"It, uh, depends," he said. "The first time I fought him, he was kinda on the weak side, and he couldn't hurt me even if he tried and I just stood still. But the second time I fought him, a little later, he—he actually was a real challenge! So, it was a tough fight against him, that second time, yeah."
"He lost," Mispy clarified.
"Thanks."
Mispy smirked at Owen's glare. Owen didn't need to read her body to know what she wanted to say. 'Just keeping you in check.'
"I see. And this was the same person. What was the difference between those two fights, Owen?" Trina asked. "Yes, he was weaker in your first encounter, but I doubt that alone would have been enough to make you go from invincibility to losing. Based on how you explained it to me, I imagine it was just as unexpected for you. Overconfidence, perhaps, contributed? And then you panicked, further dampening your Mystic power. It was only a sparring match, so you had little to prove. That, too, dampens your Mystic power."
"Yeah," Owen said. "My heart wasn't really in it. I wasn't fighting to survive or anything, and I kinda wanted to be gentle. But when he got that first hit on me... I don't know. Something changed."
"Changed with whom?" Trina asked.
"With him, er—Jerry, is his name. When Jerry attacked, and he actually hurt me, I felt the whole atmosphere change when I fought him. Not... not the air, but the..."
"The aura atmosphere, perhaps?" Trina said.
"Y-yeah! Kinda! It was just a feeling, like when a Mystic really exerts their power, and you kinda feel that... that burning feeling. I kinda felt that, but not. Not a burning. More like... I felt like my own aura was thinner. Or something?"
Trina nodded. "I know what you are describing."
"Star said it was because Jerry's own willpower grabbed hold of my Mystic radiance, and for as long as he fought me, he made it his own, too. So, he matched my power... with my own power."
"Used his willpower?" Trina asked with an amused shine in her serpentine eyes. "Is that how the Mew describes it? How cute. I suppose in an abstract sense, that is what happens. Mystics distort reality; strong spirits can reject the Mystic's distortions. I call it the Mystic Backlash. Whatever happened to Jerry, he must have been particularly motivated to undo some of your Mystic boon." Trina motioned to her iteration of Team Alloy. "Recent mutants are naturally able to negate this to an extent, hence why they are so dangerous to Guardians."
"...Recent?"
"Yes," Trina nodded. "Unfortunately, very early iterations of mutants did not have this property. Therefore, your models, as the pioneers, are not capable of this. Not by instinct, at least."
"Oh." Owen shifted his weight.
"But that makes for a good opportunity, don't you think?" Trina said. "Now we can compare the effects. Ax and Demitri have similar strengths. Why don't we have both of them attempt to punch through my Mystic barrier? Or perhaps slice, with those axes of yours? Ahh, that would be a good idea." Trina nodded. "Ax, why don't you throw one of your tusks my way? Then we can use Demitri's lack of natural Backlash as a comparison."
"Is that really necessary...?" Demitri's shoulders slumped. "We get it, you guys are better. I'm not even in the mood to fight anymore..."
Trina stared at Demitri at his last statement, blinking. "Excuse me?"
"I just..." Demitri shrugged. "You keep implying that your Alloy is better than us. And, y'know, it's true, isn't it? So... what's the point? I'm just not in the mood to fight anymore."
Trina and Ax exchanged dumbfounded glances. The Bug Guardian cleared her throat, regaining her regal composure. "Well, if you... 'don't feel like fighting,' I suppose just this demonstration will do."
Ax and the others deflated exaggeratedly.
"Fine," Ax said. "I'll go first, alright?" He brought his right hand to his tusk and pulled. With a gentle click, the tusk detached, a bit longer than expected for how deep it went into his head. The handle was large enough for Ax to comfortably hold. He made a few practice swings to make sure he would get a good throw.
Zena slithered around Owen, inspecting his horns closely.
"Uh—Zena?" Owen said. "D'you need something?"
"Is any part of you detachable?"
"Uhh—no, I think that's just a Demitri thing."
"And a Gahi thing," Zena said.
"Oh, right," Owen said, but then felt Zena wrapping her ribbons around his right horn. "Uh—Z-Zena?"
Click.
Zena stopped moving, as if she was staring at something. "...Oh."
"Wh-what? What happened?" Owen said, bringing his hand up. "I f-feel weird. Like I just closed one eye. H-hello?" He felt at his right horn, but it simply wasn't there. Instead, he felt an odd groove where it should have gone, and a strange emptiness overtook his senses. "P-please put it back on."
"S-sorry."
With a series of clicks, the horn snapped back in place.
Owen sighed, relieved. "I don't think I'm supposed to take those off."
"Why in the world is that even...?"
Har tilted his head, running a hand along the back of his horns, giving them a light tug. "I can't do that," he said. "I think that's a prototype thing."
"I guess that means Mispy's the only one who can't—"
Mispy, out of her own curiosity, wrapped one of her vines around another, giving it a light tug. It popped right off, moving on its own, writhing like the vine that resided in Owen's stomach in his Grassy form.
Owen never felt more like a freak than at that moment.
Mispy put the vine back in its place, though unlike the others, it seemed like Mispy just partially reabsorbed it. It wasn't something that simply snapped in place—her body was much more malleable, and must simply grow and stick to whatever gets placed inside.
This didn't help Owen's feelings.
"Okay," the freak of a Charizard said, shaking his head. "You know what? I don't even care. My horns detach. I give up. Demitri? Let's just let Trina do her... her whatever." Owen plopped down on the ground with a resigned thud, wrapping his tail around to his front. He sighed. "How strong do you think your throw will be, Demitri?"
"Well, I dunno," he said. "I don't want to hurt Trina."
"There won't be any need to worry about that," Trina said. "Now, Ax. Would you mind?"
"Okay." Ax brought his left foot back, then his right arm up, holding the ax above his head. He tilted his head uncertainly and switched his stance—left arm up, right foot back, and nodded, feeling more confident with this angle. Trina brought two vines forward from behind her shoulders.
Ax threw his ax at full force; it made a quiet whistle through the air for its split-second travel across the arena, but then hit a barrier midway through. For the sake of visuals, Trina made this barrier visible as a dim, white wall. While the ax was slowed down somewhat by the approach, like moving through thick air, it still pierced the barrier, going to Trina at a quarter of its original speed. She deftly moved back and grabbed the ax by the handle with her vine, a mere foot away from her chest.
"Very good, Ax," Trina said, lobbing the ax back to him in a gentle arc. He grabbed it in midair, inspecting the handle. Satisfied with its condition, he slid it back into his face, clicking it secure.
"Your turn, Demitri," Owen said.
"Rrgh... I don't like that she's just doing this to demonstrate another thing we don't have," he said to Owen. "Do I have to? Let's just take her word for it. That barrier looked thick, and the other me, he still went through it easier than I'd expect. It reminds me of trying to break through Rhys' aura shields, but stronger. Mine are just gonna bounce off."
"Well, then throw it as hard as you can," Owen said, holding his fist to his chest. "I bet if you really give it your all, you'll make Trina flinch. I bet you'll even pierce through the barrier and make her catch it! Imagine the surprised look on her face!" Owen didn't believe his own words, but a toothy grin shined through anyway.
Demitri cracked a smile. "You really think so?"
Owen didn't. But he nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely. I bet you'll at least make her flinch. Just try! Remember, you're a Heart. You never work half-heartedly. Think of this as a mission!" He clenched his fists and tried to motivate the irritated Haxorus as much as he could.
"Okay, okay, fine," he said, giving Mispy a confident smile next. "As a Heart, I have to give it my all." Then, he walked away from the group, over an odd lump in the arena where the webbing clumped together for some terrain variety, and then over to where Ax had been standing for his throw.
"Are you ready?" Trina asked.
Owen nibbled on his tongue nervously. Even though they all knew Demitri didn't have the inherent Backlash property, Trina was demonstrating her habit of taking every battle seriously. Owen felt a pang of self-consciousness at this. He should probably make a habit of that, too, so he didn't get caught off guard by someone like Jerry again.
Demitri got into a similar position as Ax, though he seemed more comfortable using his right hand to throw. He leaned back, looking at Trina. "I'm ready."
"Very good. Throw."
Demitri swung and threw in the same way that Ax had. It whistled in the air—Demitri's throw was just a bit faster than Ax's, perhaps just because he happened to get a better swing, or just by simple luck. The actual difference wasn't very much.
In another instant, the ax flew at the barrier. It didn't slow down nearly as much, either; the ax smashed through the barrier, distorting the light around it.
Zena and Owen both gasped; Rhys opened his eyes, having been watching the exchange by aura.
Trina's eyes widened imperceptibly. She twisted her second vine forward to catch the rapidly spinning ax. The blade sliced cleanly through the first vine. The second vine wrapped around the handle, but it was still moving with such force and speed that it slipped out of her grip.
While the webbed arena didn't allow for much of an echo, everyone heard the loud, dull thud of the ax hitting the Serperior in the chest and the sharp crack of a rib or two breaking where it hit. And for a few seconds of shocked pause, Trina stared down at the ax sticking inside of her, straight into her heart.