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This feels... wrong.
Very wrong. His skin would be crawling if he had any. Normally, he doesn't, but soon enough, as soon as he stops stalling, he will.
It won't be his own, though. That, Dusknoir supposes, is where the vast majority of the wrongness originates: from the knowledge of what he must do, and the knowledge of what he has already done. There is no turning back now.
(He had contemplated—though contemplated is a rather long and ill-fitting word for what might better be summed up as panicked over —doing something to stop this. But the moment had passed. The moment had passed, and he had done nothing.)
"G-Grovyle!" Celebi calls desperately, though still held captive by the Spiritomb. "Get up... p-please, get up-!"
"He will not," Dusknoir says, and he means it as a kindness.
Celebi glares at him. He won't say he doesn't deserve it, for what he's done.
Impossibly, horribly, Grovyle had trusted him, right up until the end. Now there is no more Grovyle. There is merely an empty shell of a pokemon far braver than Dusknoir now will ever be, lying prone in the center of four massive pillars, crackling even now with residual energy. Grovyle, as all who cared about him knew him, is gone forever.
(Something in Dusknoir's gut twinges painfully at the thought. He ignores it, for it is far too late for regrets now.)
Lord Dialga stares down from above, unblinking. They roar, once, and then disappear—presumably returning to Temporal Tower, now that the genuine danger to their reign has passed. That leaves Dusknoir, several Sableye, Spiritomb, Celebi... and what little remains, now, of Grovyle.
Lord Dialga has put their trust in Dusknoir to stop the threat to their reality, once and for all.
Far be it from Dusknoir's place to disappoint them. He clears his throat, and averts his gaze from the body. "Celebi."
Her glare intensifies—if looks could kill, Dusknoir would go the very same way as Grovyle—and she remains silent.
"Out of respect for your previous efforts," and for Grovyle, "I will allow you to leave."
One of his Sableye gasps from behind him. He can't be bothered to determine which at the moment. "But Lord Duskn—"
"Silence," Dusknoir snaps, holding up a hand, and returns his attention to Celebi. "However, should you ever attempt to change the past again, such actions will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?"
Wordlessly, and no less furiously, Celebi nods.
She's planning something, to be certain. But it will take her time to return to Dusk Forest, time to gather new allies, and that time should at least allow him to put an end to this attempt at changing the course of history.
"Spiritomb, release her," Dusknoir commands.
Spiritomb makes a vague eeping noise and does so. In a flash, Celebi is gone. He hopes, for her sake, that she is truly gone and not continuing to watch from nearby. No one should have to see the corpse of someone they love puppeted back into a form of life.
"C-CAN WE GO?" Spiritomb asks nervously.
Dusknoir has scarcely nodded before they withdraw back into their rock and flee, giving the pillars a wide berth. He cannot blame them. That leaves only him, and the Sableye, and... Grovyle.
It isn't Grovyle, not anymore. It hurts less (why should it hurt at all?) to pretend that he isn't entirely gone. But he is, he has to be, because the alternative is... unthinkable.
The body is still breathing, when he draws near. But its eyes are closed, and there is not a hint of resistance when he seeps into its mind. Grovyle is, truly and completely, gone.
He opens the eyes that are not his own. Six other pairs stare curiously back at him. One of the braver Sableye asks, tentatively, "L-Lord Dusknoir?"
"Yes," is what he tries to say, but it's—wrong. It's so wrong.
(If Grovyle had hung on for just a few more seconds...)
He settles for a nod. The children will find it suspicious should he not be able to speak, though. He'll need to practice. He needs time—which is the one thing he has both too much and not enough of.
He tries again. "Y...ou. Sabl...eye."
They stand at attention, so he can't have failed too terribly. Practice. He needs practice. Ideally, he also needs to repress the growing feeling of what he suspects to be guilt, but it isn't as if he doesn't have practice with that already.
(He doesn't want to die. That hasn't changed, and yet... a few more seconds...)
(Perhaps it's better this way.)
"You... are dismissed," Dusknoir says. "Suspicious if... Sableye with me..."
Thankfully, they understand. Thankfully, he's left alone. Alone... with his thoughts, which may have been a mistake on his part.
There's no turning back now.
They aren't still at the Rainbow Stoneship. The Rainbow Stoneship, however, returns for him just when Dusknoir is beginning to think he's made a mistake in not having Lord Dialga send him directly to Temporal Tower. He gets on.
It takes off.
As the Stoneship flies through the air, Dusknoir mentally rehearses his story. 'Grovyle' had gotten lucky and woken up before Dusknoir had. He had made for Dusk Forest, found Celebi, and returned to the past, hoping to catch up with Team Renegade before they reached the top of Temporal Tower.
The Stoneship docks. Dusknoir gets off. The path here is far longer than it was in the future, though the Rainbow Stoneship had also long since fallen out of operation in the future, too. The ground shakes—Temporal Tower is actively collapsing at this very moment, it seems—but he presses on.
There's the base of Temporal Tower—he'd recognize it anywhere, even if it is significantly more... colorful than it is in the future, when time has frozen even here. There's the stairs leading up to it, damaged but still largely intact. And sitting on those stairs, patching up their wounds... is an Eevee and a Treecko.
Oh. Oh no. They've seen him. Eevee first, who leaps to her feet with a gasp visible even several yards away. She shrieks, "GROVYLE!"
Treecko—the once-human named Lynn, though Dusknoir has no right to use her name or Eevee's now... wait, Grovyle would, oh no —nearly falls off the stairs. She catches herself just in time, though, eyes wide as she stares at him. He approaches, though he does make sure to affect a not entirely false limp.
This... this is going to be too easy.
(Perhaps he can avoid dashing their hopes. Perhaps he can kill them quickly, before they can see who is attacking them and realize that 'Grovyle' betrayed them. They... deserve that much.)
"Grovyle, I..." Treecko swallows nervously. "I'm sorry. Temporal Tower is... just too much for us."
"It's so tall," Eevee complains, her tail swishing back and forth. "We made it up to the spire once , but we ran out of items and had to come back to get more. And we haven't gotten back up there since."
"But we're going to. Because we have to. And..." Treecko smiles, though it's an exhausted one. "We've got you back now. Between the three of us, I know we can do this."
"Do you... want the time gears back?" Eevee asks, a paw going to the bag set on the steps between them. "I nearly dropped them once and I-I... well, that would have been... really bad..."
"You nearly... dropped the time gears?" Dusknoir can't keep the incredulity out of his voice. "Yes, maybe I should hold onto them in that case."
Treecko reaches out a hand to him, pulling him up onto the steps beside her. "That's why I've been holding them since then. And I haven't..." She trails off. "...dropped... them..."
"Lynn?" Eevee asks. "Are you okay?"
"Dimensional Scream," Treecko manages to choke out, and—oh.
Oh.
Oh NO. Treecko could see... anything, connecting to him, or to Grovyle, or to... both, most likely. If she sees something incriminating... the best thing he can do is grab for their bag and fling it as hard as he can. It'll fall somewhere into the Hidden Land below, and they'll never find it again in time to stop the planet's paralysis.
But, if she doesn't see something incriminating, the last thing Dusknoir wants to do is to incriminate... himself.
Treecko sits up, holding her head. She looks at Dusknoir. Though, she looks... more confused than anything else. "That was... weird."
"What did you see?" Dusknoir asks.
"Didn't see anything this time. But I heard... well, it must have been the past... or, technically the future, I guess. I hate time travel." Treecko shakes her head. "You were talking to someone... I want to say Dusknoir?"
Dusknoir remembers that he is currently 'Grovyle,' and nods. "Something that already occurred, then. He won't be coming after us again."
"I... am going to not think about the potential implications of that," Treecko mutters. "Anyway, you said something... something about still believing in him, even now?"
Ohhh. She heard something that would have been very incriminating indeed, had she seen the scene itself. Dusknoir takes a moment to thank Lord Dialga that she had only heard what happened, and says, "Yes, that... was a long time ago. We were friends, once, before he started sea—working for Primal Dialga."
"Ooooh," Eevee says. "I sense drama. What happened?"
"I... don't want to talk about it," Dusknoir says, which is true.
"Do you still believe in him? Even now?" Treecko asks.
He shakes his head. "Not anymore."
It's the only possible answer, and besides, for the real Grovyle to believe in him now, after he's—murdered him, and taken his body—would be impossible. And yet Treecko narrows her eyes suspiciously.
"Lynn?" Dusknoir asks, wondering where he went wrong.
"Yeah, um... random question. The first time gear we got back once we returned to the past. Where was it from?"
She's suspicious, alright. But maybe, just maybe, Dusknoir can make it out from under her scrutiny. He'll have to be careful, nonetheless, and Treecko will have to go first, but... this is still salvageable.
"Is this some kind of trick question?" Dusknoir asks. "Treeshroud Forest, obviously."
It had been the first time gear Grovyle went after originally for a reason. That reason (though Dusknoir only discovered it in retrospect) had been its notable lack of a guardian. It would only make sense for that to be the first time gear he recaptured, though Team Renegade going with him is news.
"Obviously," Treecko echoes. "Right."
"Uh... Lynn?" Eevee asks. "You doing okay there? What's wrong?"
"It's probably nothing, but..." She looks at Dusknoir again. "Where were we staying before we returned to the Guild?"
Where were they... oh. This is something that the real Grovyle would, without a doubt, know. This is also something that Dusknoir, under the guise of Grovyle, has no way of knowing. But if he says nothing, that will make Treecko even more suspicious.
"Huh? Of course he knows that," Eevee says. "It's—"
"Venari, please be quiet and just... trust me. Grovyle, please... just, humor me. Answer the question."
Dusknoir has no way of knowing the name of the place. It would have to be somewhere near Treasure Town, assuming that they had all woken up close to where Treecko had originally. But where —
"Sharpedo Bluff," he says, even though it makes no sense. He's been to Sharpedo Bluff, there isn't anywhere one could stay and pass unnoticed there...
Except Treecko is sitting back, visibly relieved. "Okay, yep. Sorry I doubted you."
...from where did he get the name Sharpedo Bluff? Yet, now that he thinks about it, he's almost certain—there's a cave inside the cliff face, and that had been where Team Renegade and Grovyle had been staying.
How does he know this? There is nothing else in this body beside him. There is still no resistance to his control, and if Grovyle were truly still here in any form, Dusknoir doubts he would possess the patience not to immediately try forcing him out. He certainly wouldn't have willingly given the answer Dusknoir needed in order for Team Renegade to trust him.
No, Grovyle is gone.
Grovyle is gone, but apparently he left bits and pieces of his memories behind. That is... convenient.
"It's alright," Dusknoir tells her. "I would have doubted me too."
Dusknoir actually thinks that Temporal Tower might be more difficult to climb in the past than it was in the future. He and Grovyle had not exactly had an easy time in doing so, but they had nevertheless managed—particularly due to Grovyle being keyed in for access to Team Renegade's storage through Kangaskhan Rocks.
There had been two of them, then, and it was difficult, but not impossible.
There are three pokemon desperately climbing Dialga's tower now, and while Dusknoir is hesitant to deem it impossible when they have at least made it up to the spire, it is certainly something approaching that. It doesn't help that he is in a body that is not his own, and that Grovyle's fighting style is very different than what he is used to.
Still, it isn't as if he hasn't seen Grovyle fight, both against and beside him. He knows what to imitate, and he does. And, slowly and painstakingly, the group climbs on. From one floor to the next, it's clear that the kids are exhausted—and in truth, Dusknoir is too. Possessing something, anything like this long-term is not something he has experience in (nor does he ever particularly want to experience again, after everything is over.) It's taking his toll on him.
At last, though, they climb the stairs... and the pinnacle of the tower is before them. There is no sign of Lord Dialga, though Dusknoir is certain that this is the right place. Barring a notable lack of a gaping hole where the floor had fallen in, this is certainly where he had always met with them.
But where that hole is missing... there is a raised dais, with five small grooves etched into it. Five small grooves... five time gears. Dusknoir can't quite make out their shape from here, but he would be willing to bet that is where the time gears must go.
Team Renegade has made that out too, which means... it's time. He can put this off no longer. Silently, he prepares a single, powerful Ice Punch—super effective against Treecko, and if he's lucky, Eevee will fall to it too.
Treecko takes a step forward, and—
—and—
—he drops to his borrowed knees. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong, it—hurts, and against it he can't even hold his stolen body up. He falls. On some level, he's dimly aware of someone shouting Grovyle's name, and then... darkness.
"No, no no no," Treecko whispers. "Grovyle, what's—"
He opens his eyes a slit. "Don't worry about me. Time gears. Now."
"B-But...!"
A shudder wracks his body, and he curls in on himself. "N... no time. Go."
Treecko looks like she wants to do anything but go, and yet at her partner's insistent tugging, she does. Grovyle watches them go. He smiles—and, as a now familiar god of time drops in out of nowhere, that smile disappears.
Another shudder. Pink and black sparks. He needs to buy them time, time enough to defeat Primal Dialga and save the world. He can give them that. With the last of his strength, he manages to pull himself out of the way behind a pillar, and closes his eyes.
It's still dark, when Dusknoir comes to. But it isn't the darkness of night, or the darkness of the planet's paralysis. It's so dark it's suffocating, and—oh. He's himself again.
He's himself again, and he is very much not at the top of Temporal Tower in either time. But... where...?
"Don't get me wrong. We're still there, on the outside," says a painfully familiar voice.
Dusknoir turns, and is greeted with a painfully familiar face. Grovyle, standing there, arms crossed and the heal ribbon Team Renegade had given him tied firmly around the scar on his arm.
"You're... not dead," Dusknoir says slowly.
"Surprise," Grovyle replies. "Honestly, I might still be on some level, but we're in my head now. I'm stuck here with you, it seems, since you decided to steal my body and trick my kids into thinking you were me. Thanks for that, by the way."
"You shouldn't be..." He was going to say strong enough, but that of course hinges on the assumption that Grovyle would immediately attack him. Either he had regained enough strength to do so at the best possible time for Team Renegade, or... he had bided his time and strength, and waited.
"If you aren't dead, you're close to it," Dusknoir says instead. "I'll get rid of you first. Then, assuming Lord Dialga doesn't make short work of them..."
"You're right on one account: at the moment, I'm definitely weak physically." Grovyle's eyes narrow, and he smiles. "The thing is... I might be stuck here with you, but that goes both ways. You're stuck here with me, Dusknoir. And you'll have to kill me first to get to my kids."
"Impossible!" And yet... and yet when Dusknoir tries to free himself from Grovyle's body, he... can't. He readies an Ice Punch. "Very well. I should have done this long ago."
Grovyle's cruel smile only grows. And, when Dusknoir charges... he burrows underground, readying a Dig from ground neither of them can even see, ground that shouldn't even exist.
He never should have underestimated Grovyle. He won't make that mistake again.
Dialga lets off a Roar of Time. It misses Treecko, thankfully, but Eevee takes a critical hit and is sent flying, claws scrabbling for purchase against the stone. Treecko throws a Reviver Seed at her as massive footsteps approach.
She looks up. Dialga is... right there.
Treecko smiles that same feral, back-to-the-wall smile Grovyle is so fond of, and uses Agility. Dialga might be stronger... much stronger, as it happens... but she's faster. And she's going to win this, because she has to win this.
The alternative is unthinkable. She can outspeed a god, simply because she has to.
Grovyle gets off a lucky Leaf Blade, and scampers back out of retaliation range. They're both breathing heavily, which is a rather impressive feat given that they are currently having this fight inside Grovyle's mind, of all places.
"Dusknoir," Grovyle says at last. "I was watching, when you were pretending to be me."
"I assumed as much, in retrospect." Dusknoir tries a Shadow Sneak. This one connects and sends Grovyle stumbling backwards, shivering.
"Good. Lynn's vision, there? On the steps of Temporal Tower? She thought it had to have been something that already occurred." Grovyle presses a hand to his side. It comes away bloody, but he shakes it off and darts in for a Quick Attack. (It hits, for what little good it does.) "I don't think it was."
Dusknoir narrows his eye. "What are you getting at?"
"What I said back there, on Frozen Island... I did still believe in you, even then. And..."
"Don't you dare," Dusknoir says, to no avail.
"And I still believe in you even now."
He tries to hit Grovyle with an Ice Punch. He fails miserably and growls, "Why? Why would you even entertain the thought of believing in me, after everything I've done?"
"Why? Because... now, I know why. Now, I know why you do all the things you do. You're afraid of disappearing. And..." Grovyle halts his preparations for a Leaf Blade. "I'm not going to lie to you, Dusknoir. Not now. I'm afraid of that too."
"Then why?" Dusknoir lowers his fists, though he keeps ready to strike nonetheless. "If you succeed, you will die. So will Lynn. So will I."
"Some things are bigger than just one pokemon. Some things are bigger than even a few pokemon. That aside, I'd gladly lay down my life if it would save even one pokemon."
"Then that makes you a self-sacrificial—"
A scream pierces their makeshift arena. Grovyle freezes, and looks to the side. "LYNN!"
Now is the chance Dusknoir has been waiting for. Grovyle is distracted, and wide open, and a single Ice Punch at this stage of their fight would almost certainly knock him out. Dusknoir could take control again... or he could flee, while he has the chance.
Instead, he hesitates. Grovyle looks back at him and says, tightly, "Get out of my head. If you won't help me, then at least have the decency to stay out of our way."
There's an opening to leave Grovyle's mind, one that Grovyle himself is offering. This time, Dusknoir doesn't hesitate. He disappears from the inside of Grovyle's head. On a physical level, darkness pulls itself free of the grass-type's body, coalescing into a very specific Dusknoir and slamming headlong into another pillar.
He doesn't feel very much of anything, after that.
Grovyle would not be exaggerating to say that absolutely everything hurts. Still, a little thing like excruciating pain has never stopped him before, so he drags himself to his feet and risks a glance at Dusknoir, who... isn't moving. Unconscious, or dead. Either way, no longer a problem.
Which is good, because he's nearly certain that the screaming green blur that just flew past him is Treecko, and if Team Renegade can barely handle Primal Dialga together, Eevee doesn't stand a chance on her own. Grovyle leaps into the fight himself, sliding underneath Dialga in the hopes of his Leaf Blade hitting something significant.
Judging by the pained roar, it either hit something significant, or he's just made the literal god of time even angrier.
"Grovyle!" Eevee exclaims, visibly relieved. "What happened-?"
"I promise I'll explain later," Grovyle hisses. He glances up at Dialga and—making a choice—Quick-Attacks Eevee out of the way of yet another Roar of Time. "No time now."
Treecko— Lynn, impossible as it feels still—rejoins the fight before long. Three against one is a lot more manageable than two against one, but the one is still a god and a downright furious one at that, and... it's not enough.
Somehow, it's still not enough. Grovyle was a fool to think it ever would be. But... he can't give up. Not now, not ever. Not while there's still even the smallest chance of success. So he lowers his voice and says, "Venari. You have the time gears?"
"Y-Yes," Eevee stutters.
"Lynn—keep her safe. Make sure she gets those time gears into those slots. I'll..." He looks at Dialga again, and smiles grimly. Getting into close quarters is essentially suicide, but it might be the only thing that can buy them enough time. "Don't worry about me. I'll be gone soon enough anyway."
"W-WHAT?"
Lynn, understanding, nods. "There's no time. Grovyle, I..."
"Take care of yourselves," Grovyle orders, before going to take on a god. Alone. It's not something survivable, but... he doesn't have to survive. The time gears just have to get into their slots. Once that's done, then... he can die in peace.
"Hey, DIALGA," he shouts, waving his arms back and forth. "Do you really want to know who sabotaged your tower? Who broke time itself? Of course it wasn't either of those two kids. It was me, and me alone!"
Dialga, while not quite to the level of little more than angry roaring than they are in the future, is evidently still not entirely themself, because he's pretty sure a completely lucid Dialga would not have fallen for that. Their eyes snap to him.
He Quick-Attacks, for good measure. It does nothing more than make them angrier. But he keeps their attention, right up until they manage to catch his foot under one of theirs.
Something breaks, and Grovyle knows better than to hope it was Dialga's foot. He bites back a curse, and uses Leaf Blade on their leg. They roar in pain, then look down upon him and prepare for a Roar of Time.
So this is how it ends. Grovyle closes his eyes.
Dialga screams. Grovyle opens his eyes, because that is definitely not how it ends. He watches them jerk backwards, a visible and growing patch of ice forming on their side. He manages to stumble backwards, somewhat, but also yeah, his foot is definitely broken. Great.
Still— ice? That can't be either of the kids.
He looks behind him.
Dusknoir. Preparing another Ice Punch. Upon seeing Grovyle looking, he nods, and returns his gaze to Primal Dialga.
Slowly, Grovyle nods back. He is decidedly not going to question this.
The kids manage to get the last time gear into its slot just as Primal Dialga is—just as impossibly—knocked out. They come rushing back, but stop in their tracks once they see either Dialga or Dusknoir, or possibly both. Grovyle isn't sure what they're more surprised by, to tell the truth: the fact that Dialga was actually brought down, or the fact that Dusknoir was the one to do it.
(He thinks Dusknoir might be more surprised than they are, actually. He doesn't speak a word when the time gears kick in and the planet's paralysis is stopped at the very last second, nor when Dialga staggers back to their feet and shows them all that they weren't too late at all, nor when Treecko demands answers.)
"It's..." Grovyle laughs unhappily. "A long story. And in truth, I'm not certain we'll have the time to tell it."
"Ohhh." Treecko nods. "Yeah, um, about that—"
"What are you talking about?" Eevee asks. "We did it. We stopped the planet's paralysis. We've got all the time in the world, now!"
"Not... exactly..."
"You didn't tell her," Grovyle realizes. He sighs. "Lynn—"
"There was never a good time!"
"So you were just going to wait until it started happening?"
"Until what started happening?" Eevee says. "What are you not telling me?"
Grovyle sighs. "Since we have changed the course of history... the future that Lynn and I are from no longer exists."
Eevee nods. "Yep. Got that."
"No, I... don't think you have. Since that future no longer exists, neither of us will have ever been born at all."
"We're... going to disappear," Treecko says faintly, looking down at her hands. "I-I'm sorry, Venari. I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you, but..."
"You didn't," Eevee whispers. "So we don't have all the time in the world. Fine. Start explaining, then. What is Dusknoir doing here and—hey, wait a minute, where did he go?"
Where... did he go? He must have left while they all were distracted. Or he already disappeared, but Grovyle... doubts that. He closes his eyes, and says, "It won't matter soon, one way or another. I'm just... very happy that he came through when it mattered."
"Right, t-that happened," Treecko says. "You know, when you said he wouldn't be a problem, I didn't think you meant he'd defected. When did he even get here?"
"At the same time I did. Speaking of that..." Grovyle trails off, catching sight of a little yellow light. It vanishes before long, but... he knows what it means. They're almost out of time. "That wasn't actually... me, exactly, who said that."
Judging by the horrified look that Treecko in particular gives him, she's already figured it out. Unfortunately for the sake of not wanting to explain it at all, Eevee just looks kind of lost. Grovyle sighs, and begins—there's only a matter of time left, now.
Descending Temporal Tower is, as it happens, much easier than ascending it. Dusknoir doesn't know where he is going, but he supposes it doesn't matter, not now. None of it will matter soon. He's already started to disappear.
So will Grovyle. So will Lynn. But they'd long since accepted their impending deaths.
Seeing as Dusknoir had played a direct role in preventing the planet's paralysis, he should do the same. He should have already done the same before attacking Lord Dialga, but... they had been about to kill Grovyle.
(But why should that matter to him at all, especially now? They'll both be dead soon enough.)
It does not happen quickly, as Dusknoir had perhaps foolishly hoped. It happens in bits and pieces, weighing him down little by little until he's sunken to the floor entirely and can hardly move. That's when the light increases, ironically shining bright and illuminating the darkened tower around him.
He recalls something Grovyle had said, back in the future. About how, if one did something meaningful enough and was remembered for it, their spirit would shine. They would linger, in a sense, far longer than they themselves did.
The only one who even could remember his (foolish) change of heart at the very last moment would be the Eevee, Venari. And... Dusknoir remembers the look in her eyes, when it finally clicked for her why she and her partner had been brought to the future. He remembers how furious the normally meek Eevee had been, upon being ambushed just before activating the Rainbow Stoneship.
It had been her who dealt the final blow on him, in that fight. Which was saying something, given the fact that absolutely none of her moves were particularly effective.
No. He won't be remembered for what he did right. Only for what he did wrong.
He supposes it's nothing more than what he deserves. He closes his eye, and lets the light take him.
He opens his eye. It's still light, but the light in question isn't the impossibly bright light of nonexistence. It's the sun, almost directly above him, in a clear blue sky. He's... at the very top of Temporal Tower once again. Is this what death is like? This very well might be what death is like. Dusknoir finds it almost fitting, if it is.
"DUSKNOIR," a familiar voice rumbles, and Dusknoir—freezes.
"L-Lord Dialga," Dusknoir says faintly. He pulls himself together and back into the air, and he bows low. "My deepest apologies, I—"
"DO NOT APOLOGIZE. NOT TO ME." They pause, briefly. "TO ANSWER YOUR UNSPOKEN QUESTION.... NO. YOU ARE ALIVE."
And Dusknoir... he laughs. "Is this some kind of depraved joke? Why would I be alive? I, when I can think of others vastly more deserving?"
"WHY... THIS... IS NOT A COMPETITION, DUSKNOIR. THOSE YOU THINK OF AS MORE DESERVING HAVE TOO BEEN SPARED."
Dusknoir's breath catches in his throat. "But... how? Why?"
Why me?
"I CANNOT SAY FOR SURE. BUT I SUSPECT... IT WAS A POWER BEYOND MY OWN, THAT SPARED YOUR LIVES. THE FORMER HUMAN HAS MADE HER CHOICE, AND DECIDED TO REMAIN IN THIS TIME AS A TREECKO." Dialga pauses, and looks pointedly at Dusknoir. "IT IS NOW TIME FOR YOU, AND FOR GROVYLE, TO MAKE THE SAME CHOICE."
There is a lot to deal with in what Lord Dialga just said, but Dusknoir's traitorous mind latches onto the familiar. "Did you say... Grovyle?"
Dialga says nothing. Instead, they look pointedly at a spot to Dusknoir's left. He turns, and sees... Grovyle. Grovyle, who chooses then to regain consciousness himself, pushing himself up onto his feet and—
"OwowOW," Grovyle hisses, wisely taking a seat for now. Apparently his foot is still broken. He looks around suspiciously. His gaze passes over Dusknoir, then latches onto Dialga. "I... ah. Dialga. If this is about..."
"YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR FROM ME, GROVYLE. I HAVE REGAINED MY REASON." They hesitate before adding, "I MUST APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR INJURIES. THERE IS... LITTLE I CAN DO, FOR THAT."
"I've had worse," Grovyle says in a dismissive tone. "What's the situation here?"
"Neither of us are dead, nor is Lynn," Dusknoir says, and Grovyle's eyes go wide. "Which means, everything I did, because I was... afraid... was for... nothing..."
"Hey. No. Stop that. I meant what I said. You made the right choice in the end, and that's what matters." Grovyle glances down at his foot and adds, with a wince, "Though I could have done without the feeling like death."
Dusknoir bows his head. "I am sorry, for what little it changes."
Dialga clears their throat, and both return their attention to the god of time. "TREECKO HAS MADE HER CHOICE TO REMAIN IN THE PAST, AS THAT IS WHAT SHE REMEMBERS BEST. HOWEVER... IT IS NOT SUCH AN OBVIOUS CHOICE FOR EITHER OF YOU. THUS, I BROUGHT YOU HERE, IN AN ATTEMPT TO MAKE IT EASIER."
"What do you mean?" Grovyle asks.
"YOU HAVE AMPLE REASON TO RETURN TO THE FUTURE YOU WERE BORN IN, OR TO REMAIN IN THIS WORLD OF YOUR PAST. THE CHOICE IS YOURS."
"He has ample reason to stay or go," Dusknoir says. "I... would not be welcome in this world or that of the future, after what I have done."
Dialga looks at him meaningfully. "ARE YOU QUITE CERTAIN?"
"Yes—"
"No," Grovyle says flatly. "Dusknoir, do I have to spell this out for you? You... you saved my life."
"After fully intending to kill you!"
Grovyle blinks. "Well, I'd be a bit more concerned if it was the other way around, actually. I have no intention of letting history remember the bad without the good."
"You are..." Dusknoir pauses. "Staying in the past, then?"
Without any kind of hesitation, Grovyle nods. He's always admired him for that surety, that confidence in his decisions being the correct ones (even if, for the longest time, Dusknoir was just as certain that Grovyle was horribly misguided.)
"My kids are here," Grovyle says simply. "That, and... I think I would feel more at home here, where I can still fight, then in the peaceful future I fought so hard for. There isn't very much left for me there."
Dusknoir blinks. "...Celebi?"
"...Celebi?" He echoes. His eyes go wide. "Dialga, is she—"
"SHE LIVES," Dialga confirms, and Grovyle visibly sags in relief. "THOUGH SHE WAS IN FAR LESS DANGER OF DISAPPEARING TO BEGIN WITH, GIVEN THAT SHE IS AS IMMORTAL AS I."
The noise Grovyle makes then can only be called an indignant squawk. "Y-You're immortal?"
"TO THE RAVAGES OF TIME, AS ALL SUCH CHILDREN OF THAT HIGHER POWER MUST BE. NOT TO INJURY."
"Ah. That... doesn't clear up very much, actually... still." Grovyle pauses. "My choice has not changed. Since Celebi is apparently a god herself, which she did not ever actually mention by the way, if I want to see her again, I can go find her in this time's Dusk Forest." He pauses again and mutters, mostly to himself, "Though I don't think it would be called that in the past, would it..."
Dusknoir doesn't know why he's so relieved to hear that. He nods, then—stops. "Grovyle, can you even walk?"
"Uh..." He tries. "No. I'll crawl if I have to, though. I've had worse."
Much of that worse, Dusknoir would have been at least indirectly responsible for. That future may no longer exist, but his memories of it do, and Grovyle's memories of it do, and—
"So," Grovyle announces, "whatever you choose—I'll make sure that pokemon know you aren't the monster you see yourself as, in the past. They'll remember that in the future, if you go back. I promise."
Grovyle makes a compelling argument... for him making his own choice, which doesn't make this easy at all, seeing as he has nothing to go back or to stay for. Except... is that necessarily true, anymore?
He looks at Grovyle.
Without meeting Dialga's eyes, he says, "I have made my decision as well. I will remain in the past."
Dialga hums to themself. "I AM NOT SURPRISED."
Dusknoir is not going to think about what they mean by that.
"Well, I am," Grovyle says. "I... don't mean that I'm not glad you're staying, but... why?"
Because, Dusknoir desperately wants to say, it is not my spirit that shines, but yours. It is you who believed in me despite every effort I made to destroy everything you stood for, and it is you who gave me the strength to change my course into one I can live with. A spirit like that... a pokemon like that... it is I who owe you my life, and I know that your own is far from your first priority, or even your tenth. Perhaps here, I can be useful. I can protect the one I...
He scoffs, crosses his arms, and says, "Someone has to ensure you don't perish on your way back to Treasure Town, and I hardly see Lord Dialga here volunteering for the job. Though I can't imagine that the pokemon there will be particularly pleased to see me again..."
"I told Team Renegade what you did," Grovyle replies. "All of what you did, between the last time we'd seen them and... what I thought would be the end. They were angry at you—I mean, I was too, I still am, don't get me wrong. But I've forgiven you. And they will too." He smiles. "They're good kids, a product of the times. It seems nearly everyone in this time is far more trusting than you or I ever were. They forgave me, when they heard that I had been taking the time gears to prevent the planet's paralysis. They'll forgive you, too."
"Will they?"
Do you? Do you, really?
Grovyle nods. "I'd be surprised—not to mention very disappointed—if they didn't."
Dialga clears his throat, again. "NOT THAT THIS ISN'T TOUCHING, BUT... THERE IS MUCH WORK TO BE DONE, STILL."
"Ah. Right. We'd... better get going again..." Grovyle tries again to walk, and fails. Again. With a rather vehement array of curses that Dusknoir had never actually heard from him before.
Dusknoir huffs, pulls Grovyle up by the arm, and situates it over one of his shoulders. "Lean on me. I'll carry you if I have to."
For a long moment, Grovyle studies his face. Then he says, "Alright. Thanks, Dusknoir."
Dusknoir ends up having to carry him for most of the journey.
By the time a certain Lapras lets them off at the beach outside Treasure Town, it is dark outside. Blessedly, they make it up the steps to the Guild without incident, and then...
"POKEMON DETECTED! POKEMON DETECTED!" A certain Diglett shouts.
"WHOSE FOOTPRINT? WHOSE FOOTPRINT?" And that would have to be Loudred. The ritual is charming, though Dusknoir isn't certain what purpose it would serve. After all, it isn't as if there is only one of any given kind of pokemon in an area.
Diglett goes, suddenly, quiet. Dusknoir wonders, for a moment, what exactly his own 'footprint' looks like, given that he floats in midair.
"SENTRY DIGLETT?" Loudred calls.
There is no verbal response from Diglett, only a faint sound of earth being tunneled through and then—the pokemon himself pops up. He glares at Dusknoir. "You. You have a lot of nerve s-showing up here, now—"
"We need to talk to Team Renegade," Grovyle says, from where Dusknoir left him sitting against a rock.
Diglett's gaze snaps over to Grovyle, and he gasps. "You're—you're alive?"
"Surprisingly, yes."
"Team Renegade can wait, if they're asleep," Dusknoir adds. "What we need, currently, is medical attention, given that someone can't currently walk on his own." This last bit is said with a pointed look at Grovyle.
"I'll concede that," Grovyle mutters. "But I want to see Team Renegade as soon as they're awake."
"They..." Diglett nods. "Alright. Treecko only just returned after being missing for months, neither she nor Eevee wanted to talk about it, and then you two show up, together, later that night? Something doesn't add up here."
Grovyle looks at Dusknoir. Dusknoir looks at Grovyle.
At last, Grovyle shrugs and says, "It's a long story."
(That isn't even the half of it.)