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Red orbs followed the milky frame that seemed to warp from one place to another. Seeing him was not enough. His eyes just weren't fast enough. As soon as Giratina figured out where his opponent was, it would already be too late. He would end up on his back once more, beaten in shame, humbled beyond improvement. His ears would do the work this time. The swooshing sound of his enemy's movements gave him the idea of where he would end. But it would need all of his focus to pull off this stunt. Giratina's gray appendages flexed with anticipation, his golden, royal headwear tightening around his ears as he closed his eyes. The swooshing continued, the air around the dragon thickened. Kinetic energy surrounded him, masking him from the naked eye.
Split seconds would decide this contest. The atoms around Giratina readied themselves to obey him, to launch him into the dark with a speed that left time and space in awe. There. His laser-sharp focus caught the decrease in his opponent's sound waves. With calculated precision, the snake-shaped dragon catapulted himself forward. His path was crossed by a black orb of ghostly-gruesome energy, but Giratina had predicted the attack expertly. The shadow-Pokémon knew his enemy too well to fall for an assault like that - it had become a basic strike at this point.
Instead, only a few meters further and barely a second later, Giratina burst out of the ground, regaining his physical form before the dust particles around him could react, and struck with two of his glowing black arms. Purple energy radiated from the deadly, red spike at the tentacle's rear, and it sliced through the air, cutting it like a sacred sword.
No. Impossible.
He had moved so quickly. How? Giratina opened his eyes just in time to realize that another Shadow Ball threatened to connect with his body. The black orb of pure shady energy missed its target by mere millimeters as Giratina dove headfirst into the ground to avoid the impact at any cost. From this point of view, he had the advantage of being the aggressor, and since his enemy had revealed his previous location - given the direction from which the attack had been launched - Giratina could react. His eyes spotted the location where his adversary must have prevailed while shooting until he realized the ugly truth.
The frustration of another lost battle spread through the dragon's long body, as it opened its golden maw to send a blue sphere of aura power into the air. Watching it follow his target's aura would at least allow him to see where his foe was at this moment. That's why Giratina was more than infuriated when he suddenly had to dodge his missile only to watch his enemy absorb it like it was no ball of pure energy capable of great destruction. What followed was a thunderous storm of dark thoughts, collected in a purple blast of power whose speed far exceeded Giratina's reaction span. Its strength blew Giratina to the ground, pinned it down, and pressed his physical form into the dirt until he raised one of his six long arms in defeat.
…
"Why did you close your eyes?” Arceus landed himself down to his son who rested on the ground. Wheezing sounds came from his son’s exhausted, rapidly gasping form, and the father of all Pokémon shook his head in disagreement. “If you kept your eyes open, you would have seen where I went after your attack. Your reactions got faster every time, Giratina.” The dragon was not ready to respond yet but his father’s sound of deactivating his ghost typing did spark anger inside him. He closed his eyes once again to keep it hidden inside himself, and tried to lift his appendages in an effort to distract himself. Like water that reached its cooking point, Giratina wanted to throw his black arms around, scream, and challenge his opponent for a rematch. But a few swallows and deep breaths managed to push the boiling urge back down into his long throat. Another tantrum would not escape him that easily. He had done such an excellent job in keeping his anger at bay - it was a streak he did not want to break. Besides, if he managed to get up and keep his cool, maybe he could find a way to escape the threatening lecture. Unfortunately, there was no energy left inside him.
Arceus noticed his apprentice’s last rebellious act of defiance and stayed afloat. For a second, Giratina rose from the soil, majestically, pushing his body to command gravity to obey him. A ray of sunshine broke through the clouds and fell onto him as if the sky was cheering him on. Or taunting him, as Giratina expected, since it obeyed Arceus and Rayquaza. That thought was his last before his power failed him. As if its strings had been cut, Giratina’s gray snake-shaped dropped back into the dirt to further humiliate him. The temptation to stay on the ground became a necessity as the last bit of energy left inside Arceus’ son escaped out of his mouth. His father responded by joining his defeated apprentice on the ground, but Giratina’s head turned away from him.
“Your eyes were closed,” Arceus reminded him of his failure. “You need all of your senses if you want to reach your peak.” Arceus’s body mercifully started glowing in a peaceful yellow that traveled over to his leveled son. Only when Giratina sensed the all too well-known calming emotion taking over his body, cupping him in its open hand as if he was sleeping on clouds, Giratina noticed how tightly his eyes had been shut. And even though his initial instinct told him to resist and recharge on his own, there was something about the time Arceus spent healing Giratina’s wounds that made the mighty dragon appreciate the effort. There was no necessity for it. Giratina could easily heal on his own, all it would take him was a good night’s sleep. But every time he tried to resist it, his childhood memory reminded Giratina that Arceus’ healing abilities were an experience. Not only did it refill another Pokémon with the energy it had lost, but it treated emotional wounds just as effectively. Giratina loved the coziness Arceus inflicted on him, the relaxation, and the eventual awareness that everything was okay.
It was the inevitable realization after the move had worn off which destroyed the happy image. At that moment Giratina remembered what had just cost him another sparring session.
Without facing his master, he floated into the air, shaking the dirt off his physical body. “You are ashamed. I can sense it,” Arceus tilted his long head in a knowing, yet curious fashion. The anger returned, and Giratina pressed his jaws together as well as his eyelids. In this form, he could even feel his muscles tense up while being unable to bear his master’s judgmental gaze upon him. “There is no reason for shame. Dialga and Palkia would not have lasted as long as you did.”
That was little consolation. The mention of his two protégés would have been manageable, but his master’s utter inability to understand him, despite Arceus’ almighty wisdom, made him roll his eyes and huff. And just like Zekrom and Reshiram were a part of Kyurem and could never be separated from one another, neither could Arceus’ reaction to Giratina’s sullen scoff.
“Stand down!” The now thundering voice of the Creator accompanied a strong telekinetic grip that nullified any option of escape that might have entered Giratina’s mind in time. The mighty dragon, the pinnacle of Arceus’s creation, the master of the beings that controlled time and space itself now hung in the air helplessly, in the iron grip of the master of all legends. His master. The true master of the living parted embodiment of physical laws.
Giratina felt his physical body dwindle, his manifestation fading. It was a familiar feeling, and while it did not hurt his nerves, it did humble his spirit. Bone and flesh were replaced by a matter reminiscent of smoke, but it was no gas. Soon, weight, height, and strength were relative, or as Giratina saw it: meaningless. What had been given to him, had just been taken away, and while that fact should have put a dampener on Giratina’s brewing fury, it only acted like magnesium to the fire inside him. Once again, his type had been changed.
“Your pride and your ego not only blind you during your fighting sessions, but they also make self-improvement an utter impossibility for you.” Every time Arceus scolded Giratina, an angry tap of his hooves accompanied his words. The ghost was certain Dialga and Palkia never had to notice that.
“The power that I grant you cannot be handled by a creature incapable of handling itself. This is what prevents you from reaching what you could become.” Once again, Giratina turned away. “A dragon in armor like my underlings?”
Arceus’ eyes flashed a deep, frightening red that poked deep through Giratina’s soul sparked what the ghost begrudgingly recognized as fears. “They are your brothers!”
Giratina would have held his breath if he still had lungs. The tension between his molecules was enough to loosen the flex visible in Arceus’ muscles, and Giratina pretended to exhale in relief. “You miss your physical form, do you not, son?”
Giratina’s shadowy form lowered its head. “Your ambition is admirable. And your creativity in battle unrivaled.” The words of his master tickled Giratina enough to make a bothering sound. Maybe Arceus did understand SOMETHING about him. “I would be delighted to see you put your creativity to work with something useful. Who knows what good you could do to the variety of our fauna with the help of my grass plate.”
Yes, the grass plate. Giratina did not doubt for a second that the control over the entire floral population on the planet would be an unparalleled experience. A power unbeknownst to him. A new power to explore. Even if he could not reach it on his own accord. One day, he will have understood the means necessary to fully grasp the reality of these plates. Their strengths and their weaknesses. Even if that meant watching over the ghost population and growing plants in the meantime.
“Keep your eyes on the future. I know you yearn for what awaits you.” Arceus tried to encourage his son, but Giratina did not need his words. How would his long dragon body look with twelve plates surrounding it?