A red sphere shielded itself inside a hollow shell. While it could not curl, it was the closest equivalent to hiding away from the world: within its void, within its own small reality. All around it, above and below and behind and in front, were little pinpricks of light. False stars like the night sky of the living world.
Little droplets of slime punctuated the otherwise complete silence. It was annoying. He didn't have to be here. He could have wandered off to do whatever he wanted while he took care of annihilating the world. Was moping around really necessary? Dark Matter rumbled irritably, turning his attention toward the Goodra that refused to leave.
"Why are you still here?"
"Please stop this."
The words felt like little daggers against his core. He contracted his shell like a child hiding deeper under the covers. What was he doing, hiding away from the Goodra? He had the upper hand! Judgement, Devastating Drake, Light of Ruin—all three attacks only paused his advance. The real stopping point was this pestering Goodra. With him around, he...
"I changed my mind. You... you tricked me. That wasn't fair."
"I only made you realize the truth. Because you denied it all, too. For so long, you tried to convince yourself that the world—"
"It's not ruined! It's not rotten!" Anam squeezed his fists together, slamming them against his sides. "The world's just hard to live in sometimes, and that's just life!"
"It is the reality the old gods created."
"So?" Anam challenged. "With all the bad stuff, there's also... also good stuff! And that means—"
"Fleeting pleasures in a world that was built on survival. By default, life persists only for its own sake, and only by taking away from other living things. That is the rule of nature molded by Mew, based on the laws formed by Arceus."
"And what about Necrozma?" Anam said. "He's in here. How come you never talk about him?"
This child was actually growing a spine. He'd never seen Anam talk back to him like this before, in all those centuries. Always kind, always delicate, and now he was yelling... But the way his lips quivered, his tail flicked here and there... He felt his fear, his sadness. He was only lashing out because of how all other mortals lashed out. Kilo's new god was cornered, and now he only knew but to struggle aimlessly.
Pitiful.
"Don't just stare at me like th-that," Anam said, his voice hitching at the end. "Necrozma's why I made the world better in the first place. What did he do wrong, huh?"
Another long silence followed, the fake stars in the fake sky rotating around them. A few more globs of purple slime fell onto the flat and featureless void, the imaginary floor formed by Anam's own desires. It was a wonder how long the floor would exist before he fell into despair like everyone else.
Stubborn.
"His mistake is the same one you made," Dark Matter replied. "He trusted mortals."
Another quiet rumble shook the void, and Anam finally looked down, flicking his antennae. He sat with a childish plop and looked up at Dark Matter.
"So you refuse to leave?"
"You can't do anything while I'm here."
Dark Matter growled at that, looking down. Even now, he was tied to him, stuck in a perpetual deadlock so long as Anam continued to have hope. How irritating. Anam had lost hope so completely for that one instant, and he'd already recovered? What fueled him?! Why?!
Dark Matter slowly formed a black cloud from deep within his core, aimed at Anam. His bright, green eyes stared back, filled with defiant sadness. The darkness crackled more, concentrating into a fine point. It stayed there, ready to fire at any point.
Anam stared.
The beam smashed into Anam's body and bent around, spraying flecks of slime behind him, yet the main part of his body, his core, amorphous as it was, still remained completely unharmed.
Dark Matter rumbled and compressed his sphere again. "Pest."
Anam's horns crossed in front of his chest, his eyes now transitioning to one that was more like a disappointed father's. "You said you wanted to be happy."
That one hurt. Dark Matter lacked a head, yet it still somehow felt like a headache. It cracked through his shell and into his core, and then somehow into the core of his core. That wasn't fair. Someone like Anam wasn't allowed to say something like that.
"What happened?"
Stop, stop. Anam wasn't like this. He wasn't angry. Anam didn't get angry. Why was he looking at him like that? Dark Matter shrank away. It wasn't fair. Anam was supposed to agree. He was supposed to give up and agree. This was the right thing to do, after all.
"It's all fleeting. Even if I did become happy, it would go away. I... don't want it anymore."
"You're... denying it." Anam gulped, looking away. "You lost hope."
"I can't hope."
"You can!" Anam shouted, squeezing his fists again. "Y-you can! When you reached out to me, when you agreed to help me... th-that was hope! That had to be—"
"I just wanted you to shut up. It was desire and hunger... Not hope."
"That's not true." Anam's eyes turned fierce, like his mother's. "Y-you... you hoped, because you wanted to be happy. And you thought I could do it. That was hope! And... and you still care enough about the world... don't you? That you helped me for so long, telling me about everyone's darkness so I could make it less, and less. That's true, isn't it? You feel less darkness than before. I-it's not... it's not all for nothing."
"Nevren would have ruined it all."
"No, he... he just wanted to save the world. He told me so."
"From gods who also wanted to save the world?"
"Y-yeah, but—Nev-Nev..."
"Is just another fool who thinks the world can be saved."
The pain wasn't going away. Dark Matter had hoped it would—no. No, he couldn't hope. That wasn't part of him.
Anam let out another laugh, snapping Dark Matter out of the silence that he hadn't even noticed. "What?"
"E-every time I think I understand you, I learn a little more, Mister Matter."
He hated when Anam laughed. Why couldn't he laugh?
"What do you mean?"
"You spent so many centuries trying to make the world better with me, but one little thing makes you give up on it all... i-it's sad. Maybe I lost a little hope, but it's never too late. You can turn this back... can't you?"
No, no, stop talking. He didn't need to hear this nonsense. The world was hopeless. Hopeless! There were no clean souls. Even Anam was tarnished and imperfect; he just denied the negativity and shouldered it all for himself, as if a single person could handle all the flaws of the world. Clearly, he couldn't. He was a fool to even try.
"Please, Mister Matter. Turn it back. We can try again. I'll tell everyone what happened. I'll tell them what you are, and I'll explain everything. They'll pool all of their power together for you, and they'll make you happy. I just n-need you to listen."
Dark Matter couldn't press his shell tighter. Any more and it would crack. "No."
Another silence followed with Dark Matter refusing to look at him. Pest, pest, pest. Leave. Go away. He didn't need Anam anymore.
"How come?"
His voice was so soft. Why did it hurt more than when he was shouting? "They won't help me. It's as I said. They'll kill me. They already tried. There's no going back now, Anam. It's... too late for me. I can't go back."
"Y-you're wrong. I'll protect you. I will!"
And then, Dark Matter laughed. It was foreign to him—the laughter was one of disgust. That was why, he was sure of it. Because of course Anam would try to shoulder even his burdens.
He hated him.
He always hated him.
"Then you'll die, too."
The Goodra's eyes didn't waver. Dark Matter turned his attention to Anam again, but it wasn't enough. He focused his attention away, snarling out another rumble.
Finally, Anam closed his eyes, and the tightening feeling Dark Matter felt around his core faded away. The Goodra brought his hands together, and then his horns back. He breathed steadily.
"What are you doing?" He recognized that posture.
"Praying."
Dark Matter wished he could scoff. "To Star? To Barky? To Necrozma? None of them can hear you here. Your voice is silent."
"That doesn't matter."
"Then you're throwing it to the wind, hoping the nothing will pick it up? You're a fool."
"You're here."
"I'll ignore them all."
"That's okay."
Then it was to stop him. Holding onto blind hope was all Anam had left. In fact, Dark Matter knew it was just more denial; he could feel it radiating off of the Goodra. The hopelessness, the fear, the regrets, all of it swimming around in his pathetic form like the ink-black corruption that infested his body. Dark Matter knew that the face Anam gave him now, so tranquil and confident, was nothing but a thick mask. He saw through it.
Yet despite all of Anam's doubt, and all of his fatigue, Dark Matter couldn't feel defeat from him. And that was the one thing he needed—for Anam to submit again, this time for good. He just clung to this "hope" he claimed to have because that was all he had. But for what purpose? Why? Why? WHY?
"They'll help you. All my friends will know to help you."
"Half of them have already fallen into my realm. It won't be long before Kilo collapses. And as despair spreads... so will I. You won't be able to stop me once you're convinced of that."
"Prove me wrong."
Anam didn't open his eyes at all. The Goodra kept breathing. Dark Matter couldn't breathe. He couldn't understand him. He never did. He pretended to.
Anam was riddled with every negative thought that he should have had. And despite this perfect formula, every single fact lined up in front of him to show how he was wrong... He refused it anyway. Was there even a point to understanding how such a warped mind could function?
That was it—he never desired to understand Anam. Yes! Of course. He was just playing along. And now that Anam was wrong—then he was right. He was right. This was what he had to do.
"You're their god, now, and all the other gods are useless or dead. Who could you possibly be praying to?"
A small smile tugged at Anam's lips. "I don't know why you keep calling me their god," he said. "But I think I know who gods pray to."
"Nobody. Prayer from a god is pointless. You're speaking nonsense."
"I think gods pray to mortals."
The Goodra was delirious. "Really. You think Star, Arceus, you think they pray to their creations?"
"Mhm. Maybe they don't know it, but I think they do." Anam opened one eye, peeking at Dark Matter. "They just want friends in their own way. And I bet Necrozma was like that, too, huh?"
"I wouldn't know. Everything you just said made no sense."
Anam closed his eyes again and returned to a neutral pose.
"Then you're praying to nobody. Nobody can hear you. It's pointless."
Anam's smile returned, tranquil. Dark Matter sank back into the void and seethed silently, getting at eye-level.
The irritating Goodra didn't change his expression, even after Dark Matter threatened to shoot him again. He formed another shadowy beam, making sure it crackled loudly so Anam would hear, but he didn't react. It wasn't like it would actually go through to him—the same way Anam could strike him in return. And those negative emotions were subsiding, despite all his efforts. Envy toyed with Dark Matter next.
"Then this is your new normal. Praying to the void."
"I'll call out to anybody who will listen," Anam said.
"Nobody. Nobody can hear you."
"You're still here."
More silence followed. Eventually, Dark Matter stopped his futile charge, staring Anam down. He just had to bide his time until he finally lost hope... Or maybe he could do something a bit more active.
"No."
"What?"
"I won't let you stop me this time. If you can stop me..." Dark Matter rumbled deeply. "Then I just have to gain more power."
"But you said you were afraid they'd—"
"I don't care," Dark Matter hissed. "I refuse to wait while the world suffers. While you try to perpetuate it. It's over. You lost. You've gone back on your word. So—I'm taking this into my own hands."
Anam stood up. "Think about this, Mister Matter. You—"
"Star is here," Dark Matter said, his core crackling with anxious anticipation. "How long until she loses herself?"
Anam's eyes darkened, lips quivering. "She wouldn't—"
"Goodbye, Anam."
And with a final crack of lightning—one that Dark Matter knew Anam would try to follow—he disappeared from the void.