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Sojaveña Wilds Silver Ravine Mystery Dungeon

Another pause, as Betel – presumably – composed themself.

...Archie, I know less about Shadow than I do about every other part of Forlas.

I do not know this organic source of Shadows, or the master of Zweilous Alex-Xander.

Koa, I was silenced not in general, but specifically in your location. For this reason, I believe it was that Zweilous who concealed you from my sight, and blocked connection between us.

I fear that it could happen again.

I think I...

...may need to think for a while.

And then the connection faded.

...Betel had disconnected from the conversation.
 
Koa hung his head and started walking again, feeling dazed. The Zweilous had silenced Betel? Was Archie's theory right? A thousand more thoughts and worries and fears crowded him. He wanted to comfort Betel. Assure her it would all be okay.

But he couldn't find anything to say.

He looked to Archie wearily. "I guess we'll tell as much of the team as we can about Alex. See if they want to try and train. And figure out the rest from there." His eyes fell back on his paws. His next words stuck in his throat, but he felt the need to say them anyway. "Thanks for coming with me."

At least he wasn't completely alone.
 
No ideas at all? Was Alex lying about that, too, then? Betel wouldn’t withhold information if they had any, would they? Hopefully not, but their emotional state was pretty volatile right now. Maybe it was a topic he could raise another time, once some time had passed and the original shock of the brush with Shadow had faded from their Guardian. In the mean time, they had to let as many people know as possible, for better or for worse…

Right now, his friend needed comfort.

“I’m glad I did. That was… Way too much for either of us to handle on our own,” he said. The Oshawott reached out to the Electrike for a moment, hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his arm around Koa’s shoulders and pulled him close against him. “Listen, we’ll figure it out, I promise.”

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[Ch04] - Unpolished Stone (solo)
Steven’s heart raced in time with the landscape rushing by. He paid no mind to the scenery, unaware that he’d already passed through the Silver Ravine’s proper entrance. His mind was too busy tying itself in knots. The stress from everything had been building and building, and he thought he could handle it— just like he always could back in Hoenn— but he was wrong. The training match gone wrong had sent him to the edge. The conversation with Archie had pushed him over it.

Like a landslide, the world was crumbling apart around him. The control he was so used to having had all but vanished. He’d been so blind. So foolish. To think anything here was the same. To think he was the same.

He needed somewhere dark. Quiet. Somewhere he could hide. And think. He didn’t need conversations or platitudes or friendships. He needed solitude and the only place he’d ever truly felt comfortable; in the cold, dark heart of the earth.

There, a gap in the wall of the ravine. A quick pulse of magnetism told him it was more than a superficial crack. Deep enough to prove interesting enough to explore, narrow, but just the right size for a Beldum to fit. The perfect place. He veered sharply right and squeezed through the opening.

The crevasse stayed narrow for most of its length, and as the walls scraped against his sides, Steven actually began to calm down for the first time since he left town. There was comfort to be found in the earth’s embrace. Gently, he readjusted his satchel so he wouldn’t get it caught as he floated further into the passage.

Maybe that’s what he needed. A day or two to focus on nothing but collecting. And if he emerged from the ravine with a bag full of rocks, maybe the weight there would offset the weight in his heart.

He slipped through the last of the narrow passage out into a larger chamber that only let a sliver of light down into its depths from above. As he looked around, suddenly he was struck with a longing so fierce he almost dropped to the ground.

What he wouldn’t give to have his team with him. Just one of them. Metagross. Aggron. Cradily. Anyone. He needed their presence like he needed air to breathe. Like he needed gravity to keep him tethered to the ground. He missed them so badly, like a piece of him was gone, ripped away and left exposed, like an open wound. And not until now, in a place both foreign and achingly familiar, did their absence truly hurt.

At first he thought coming here to Forlas without his identity was just what he needed. A place where none of the obligations tied to his name could drag him down, hold him captive, keep him from being the person he wanted to be. He didn’t have to be Steven Stone, Hoenn Champion and heir to the Devon Corporation. He could just be Steven, rock collector and adventurer. It sounded so freeing, his wildest dream come true.

How incredibly wrong he’d been.

Because without them, he was nothing. His pokemon, his title, his power. Without any of it he was an insignificant speck in the cosmos, unable to take action, protect the things and people he cared about; he was completely and utterly useless.

Useless.

A word he’d uttered to his own pokemon, his beloved partner. A word he unconditionally regretted ever having left his lips. A word that cut deep to his core, like a sword running him through.

He couldn’t have stopped the Night Captain’s blade even if he’d wanted to.

With a cry of frustration, Steven threw himself at the boulder in the center of the room. He bounced off it, hardly even leaving a mark on its surface. He stared at the spot in dismay.

Useless.

And now he was the very thing he hated. An embodiment of the word that stung and burned, even as he said it to his own starter. He was young then, immature, inexperienced. He hadn’t known better. But now? He deserved it. Every searing inch of that blade deserved to drive straight through him.

He abandoned the team when they needed him most. When Wes needed him most.

He needed to pay for his mistakes, suffer the consequences he so casually levied unto others for his own follies.

The look on Koa’s face after the wagon incident. Jade’s expression when he’d failed as her teammate.

What had Betel told them? When they arrived in Forlas, they took the forms best suited for their souls? Well, Betel was right; a Beldum’s body suited him perfectly. He slammed into the boulder again with a dull thunk.

Useless.

And again.

Useless.

And again and again and again—

Steven drew back, reeling. He could feel every blow against his head. The room spun around him. And the boulder remained unyielding.

What kind of hero was he, anyway? Powehi had said his very presence in Forlas was destroying the fabric of the world. A derisive, half-delirious laugh crackled out of him. He couldn’t even answer a call for help without failing.

Fine then. Maybe this was the only thing he could do right.

He’d keep going until the rock broke. Or he did.

He slammed into the boulder again. Over and over. Until his whole body ached. Until he couldn’t see straight.

Until steel buckled and cracked. Until the light of his eye went out.

Barely aware, he drew back to ram the boulder again, when a searing pain shot down his side. He cried out, but as his eye struggled to find the source of the pain, his shout morphed from a cry of pain to one of terror.

A limb had burst from his side, a fully formed arm of his species, except it was wreathed in a wretched purple flame that licked black at the edges. And it burned. His whole left side was alight with a cold fire that seemed to stem from his very core.

What was happening!? Steven’s panic grew, clouded in exhaustion and fear. What—? Was he turning into a Shadow pokemon? No— No he couldn’t! That meant he’d never see home again, never see his beloved partners again.

A Beldum’s panicked shriek echoed through the silent passages of the ravine. His body was no longer obeying. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

USELESS USELESS USELESS TO THE VERY END.

The arm moved on its own, lurching forward as he screeched in agony, dragging the rest of his body along with it.

Stop, stop, stop, stop!

And then the last of Steven’s energy gave out. His vision went white as the world around him disappeared in a blissful haze.



He awoke in a pile of rubble to the cool embrace of moonlight. His fist lay atop the base of a shattered boulder. The other arm sprawled out to his side awkwardly. He blinked once, twice.

Arms.

He had arms.

Slowly, he flexed his claws, marveling at how he could see them move. Observing them like they were the most glorious thing he’d laid eyes on. First one hand, then the other. The notch on a claw on either one. Just like his rings. He closed both hands into a fist, crunching up chunks of rock between his claws.

He had arms again. And he was alive.

The rattling cry that escaped him sounded almost like a sob.

He was alive and he evolved.

But the relief that first cradled him morphed to confusion.

Why? How? Of all people he would know how much time and effort went into raising a Beldum into a Metang, and the time he spent here in Forlas was short and spent poorly. So how had it happened? What had he done to earn this? He wasn’t even convinced he deserved to be here as a Beldum—

Steven froze, his eyes darting to his left side in alarm. The Shadows. The limb he saw. But when he looked down, there were no dark flames, no phantom limb. Just a normal Metang arm. Had… had he imagined it, then?

He rolled his left arm to see the underside, and his eyes widened. The ragged-edged dark patch on his steel skin definitely wasn’t a figment of his imagination. A remnant of his previous form; even with a new body the Shadow Skorupi’s handiwork hadn’t been erased.

Or was it because he wasn’t truly free of Shadows himself? A permanent reminder of something that would be a part of him for as long as he remained in this world. Experimentally, he rested his other claw against the dark patch, something he’d never been able to do before. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t burn.

He pressed harder, giving it an experimental scrape. It didn’t buckle or flake. Some of the relief trickled back. Just a mark then. Still, he kept his hand over the spot like he was covering it from view. From who, it wasn’t clear; he was very much alone, but the shame crept up on him just the same.

The shame that maybe it was the Shadows that drove him to evolve.

Not like there was anything he could do about it now... His downcast eyes swept the cavern floor, searching for solace in the pale moonlight, only to find nothing but rubble and rocks. Wasn’t that what he came here for, though?

The contents of his satchel were scattered about, the bag itself shredded beyond repair during his evolution. A few berries and coins, but mostly rocks of various shapes and sizes. Out of habit, he reached out to scoop up the nearest rock. Then another, and another. He grabbed as many as he could reach from where he lay, cradling them between his arms like precious gems, and something in his heart clenched.

It was sobering to see his few possessions strewn across the floor like refuse. They didn’t deserve that, not when they were the only things he’d cared to bring with him when he left town. The only things that identified him as, well, him.

Steven Stone, rock collector and adventurer. Someone who would never allow his precious collection to be tossed around like that.

The only things that reminded him of the journey he’d been on thus far. The only things that proved he’d spent time and effort and visited different places and met different people—

Something in the pile caught his eye, and he reached down to pluck the rough-hewn amethyst out from the rest. The amethyst he wore to the Gala with Odette that night.

He turned it in his claw, the moonlight glinting dully off its facets. It wasn’t worth much in this state, and probably not worth much more even cut and polished. But he didn’t cherish it for its value. It reminded him of that night, of the way it matched her dress, of the way it marked the point of no return in their involvement in this world’s affairs.

His gaze fell back to the pile between his claws, but he didn’t put the amethyst back with the others.

People always asked him (and by people he meant Wallace more than anyone else) why he collected rocks. Why not just the gemstones and crystals that glittered in the light? The ones that caught everyone’s eye, that made them ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ at their beauty. And he always explained the truth; that every stone had their own story to tell, even the unpolished, unremarkable ones.

Maybe… Maybe that’s what he was. An unpolished, unremarkable stone.

He picked himself up off the ground, wobbling slightly as he rose. Rocks tumbled and clattered in his wake, and his eyes flicked towards the entrance of the cavern. He couldn’t fit through the way he came in, not with his new body.

Maybe that was for the best. Did he even deserve to rejoin the Wayfarers after running away? (Again.) There was no one here to wedge him out of the hole he’d gotten himself in this time.

His claws tightened around the amethyst. No. Gods, he’d been so foolish. No one had chased him off, he’d done it to himself. (Again.) Because he thought he’d had to. Because that’s what he was used to; he was the one people looked to and relied on, the one to shoulder the burden. And when it grew to be too much— But things were different here.

He wasn’t here because of the way he shined.

That night at the Gala. He was there with Odette, and Felin, and Ridley, and everyone. They’d done it together; toppled the corrupt mayor, taken on the Shadows, came here to help. All of them as a team.

He couldn’t do things alone, he shouldn’t.

Hadn’t he already promised Wallace that, anyway?

Steven closed his eyes and turned his back on his ruined satchel and scattered rock collection and the too-small entrance. When he opened them again, he instead focused his attention to where the path stretched away into a shadowed slot canyon at the far end of the cavern. Had that path always been there or…?

No matter, it was the way he had to go, and he would take it. But, this time, maybe not all by himself.

‘Hey, Betel? Can you hear me? I could use your help getting out of here, if you don’t mind.’



Yes, Steven. I am with you.

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[CH05] Do You Think the Relic's Made of Agate?
Out of all the Mystery Dungeons Archie had explored in his time on Forlas, Silver Ravine had become something of a home away from home. He often came out here to think, when he needed some time away from the town and its people. He’d go swimming in the river, go on hikes through the upper reaches of the dungeon – near the entrance, not too extremely deep – see what uncanny items and coins he’d find. It was also where he went to train, more often than not. It was where he and Seth went to spar. It was a safe place for them to unleash their moves. A safe place to learn to control Shadow, rather than be controlled by it.

They hadn’t decided upon it by any specific kind of agreement. The dungeon just happened to be the kind of place both of them gravitated towards. If for whatever reason Archie wanted to find Seth, he’d leave town in the direction of Silver River, then follow the river upstream all the way until he’d entered the dungeon. Nine times out of ten, he’d run into the red Lycanroc somewhere along the route, and the rare times he didn’t, it usually meant Seth didn’t want to be found. He hoped today wasn’t one of those days, actually.

He needed to talk to Seth, about the relic they’d found in Timeless Oasis. About how it could potentially cure his corruption – it had cured Archie’s, after all. He didn’t want to get Seth’s hopes up too high, the were reasonably sure the relic would be able to help Leona and the other Shadow Pokemon, but Seth was different. And who knew if he even really wanted a cure, if it meant the possibility of giving up the power Shadow granted him. Still, the red Lycanroc deserved to at least know it was a potential option. And it meant that they could cure his Eevees, if nothing else. When they found them. And they would find them, eventually. They’d made that promise to Seth, and Archie didn’t intend to break it!

… That was all for the future though. First he actually had to find the Lycanroc!
 
Seth made a habit of being the one to surprise others, and initiate conversations. This encounter was no different.

"Nice to see ya, Fedora," called the wolf, from atop a rocky perch. With his reddish fur, and matching jacket, he could camouflage himself quite nicely against the redder rocks of Silver Ravine.

He jumped down, rather than making Archie shout up at him – as he'd done on previous occasions – and gave the otter a lazy salute.

"You got that look like there's shit on your mind," he added, languidly. "To be fair, you usually do. What's driving your motor this time, Archie?"
 
At this point, Archie was well used to Seth’s tendencies towards making an entrance. He’d gotten good about not flinching when the wolf called out to him from somewhere out of sight, or dropped down from somewhere unseen, or popped out of a place that seemed too small to fit him. The Dewott chalked it all up to another one of the red Lycanroc’s eccentricities. He shot Seth a smile, which only faltered a little when the wolf asked what was bothering him this time.

“Good seeing you too,” he replied, “Do you remember the expedition Wes and I went on, with some of the others? To Timeless Oasis? Well, I’ve got some good news, and some bad news, related to that…”

The Dewott dug around inside an interior coat pocket, before pulling out a pair of folded papers. Unfurling them and handing them over to the Lycanroc, where upon they were revealed to be copies of the wanted poster for Miror B. and his lackeys. He’d taken them off some wall or other around Frontier Town, figuring that one of the many copies wouldn’t be missed.

“Not sure if you’ve seen these already or not, but…” he said, “We weren’t sure if what happened to him, after we escaped the Dungeon. If he was trapped in there or not. Sounds like he’s up to a lot of highway robbery and the like back east now.”

He shot the Lycanroc a serious, almost pleading look, “Seth… Promise you won’t go after him by yourself? At least take me and Wes with you, and maybe a few others too, if you do. He’s tough, deceptively so. Probably tougher than the others we’ve taken down so far.”
 
Seth rolled his eyes and growled irritably.

"This shit again, huh? What part of 'I am fucking undefeated' did you not hear when I spilled the beans? Whatever, just quit worryin' about me like that. And fuckin' patronising me— Raikou's rocks, Archie. I should be warning you not to put yourself in harm's way, eh?"

He jabbed at Archie's side with a claw, trying to get at soft underbelly to punctuate his point. Their first encounter had involved Archie trying to take on Seth solo to let Wes escape, after all.

"Anyway, no I will not be going after them solo. 'Least, not in a straight fight. That's a fun way to get your shit kicked in. If I did go for 'em, I'd ambush 'em. Been fighting an asymmetric one-man war for years, buddy. I know how it's done."

In other words, Seth knew plenty about fighting Miror B. and his goons.
 
The Dewott playfully swatted at Seth’s probing claw, and followed it up with a few soft jabs aimed at the Lycanroc’s stomach. Mr. ‘I am fucking undefeated’ might’ve gotten the better of him and Wes in their first encounter, but the second run in with The Wolf with greater numbers had, ultimately, swung in the Wayfarers’ favor. Being sat on by a Graydian didn’t exactly look great for the red wolf’s win record, but Archie elected to leave that part unmentioned, for now.

“I am not patronizing you,” he protested, instead, “I’m just asking that you bring backup if you decide to head after him. You’re not fighting a one man war anymore, you have us to rely on. And don’t forget, I am a professional bounty hunter!”

He gave the Lycanroc his best winning smile. Seth might not like it, but Archie was going to worry! And he was also willing to do a lot if it meant keeping his friends safe, even if it meant putting himself in ever greater danger. And going after Miror B. and his goons was, more or less, Archie’s job! If Seth insisted on going after the Quaquaval without the Dewott, Archie was going to make it difficult.

Still, he didn’t want their conversation to devolve into an argument, and he did mention having good news to share as well! So he’d let the topic of Miror B. go for now, and move on to happier topics.

“Well, in better news, we figured out how to make the relic work again!” he said, a little more excitedly, “All it needed was a little Radiance. It was able to cure me of whatever Alex did to me. It could probably cure you of your partial corruption too! You know, if you wanted it too?”

They could also use it to help Seth’s Eevees, once they found them. But, that was another thing Archie felt was better left unmentioned, for now. That was an old wound he didn’t want to pick at.
 
Seth huffed, crossing his arms. "Fair play, you can pull your weight in a fight with stakes," he admitted, his way of complimenting Archie's strength in battle. "Honestly kinda wild how fast you guys have been getting tougher, even compared to me and the Cipher bastards..."

He shook his head begrudgingly. "Like I said, buddy. I won't go after them alone. They're tougher as a group, which I know better than anyone."

That was all he had to say on that topic – though he'd certainly spill some info about Miror B's goons if asked, as he'd implicitly offered.

The Lycanroc's brow perked at the mention of the relic.

"...That's good news," he said, cautiously. Having let the Celebi relic of his own world be destroyed, perhaps he was feeling shame, or hope, or both. "Don't think I need it, though, to tell you the truth. Check this out."

Seth's expression grew serious as he concentrated for a moment, raising his clenched fist. Deep, midnight-purple fires of Shadow-type energy bloomed around it, as they had before. Then he closed his eyes, and the aura shimmered, brightened, and turned the pale gold of Radiance.

"I'm like you guys," he said, with smug satisfaction. "Ever since I started getting the hang of both powers, the Shadow... Well, I don't have those goddamn nightmares lately. Reckon it's that fancy light."

That, and perhaps dealing a crippling blow to Cipher had eased his fretful mind somewhat, too.
 
Archie nodded along with Seth’s explanation of how the shadow hadn’t been bothering him as much since Terminal Two. They’d theorized back before they’d found the Zeraora that Radiance would be able to counter Shadow in that way. It’d seemed that the theories had been correct, and for that the Dewott was glad. Though, that did remind him, there was still one Lycas who didn’t have Radiance to fall back on to keep their shadow in check.

“Have you and Leona, you know, talked, any?” he asked, “She’s another version of you and Wes, and it seems like she’s also had some pretty bad experiences with Cipher. I was thinking maybe it might help if she had someone who could, you know, relate?”

Wow, he really wasn’t selling this idea all that well, was he? It sounded like such a solidly good idea when he and Gladion had discussed it, but now that he was here actually suggesting it, the Dewott felt kind of dumb. Oh well, he’d already thrown it out, no way he could take it back!

"A-anyway, I'm glad to hear you're doing better!" he said, grinning up at the red Lycanroc. Then he put his paws on his hips, and added teasingly, "Now it's just a matter of getting you to make some friends that aren't me and Wes!"
 
Seth shook his head, brusquely.

"Uh, no. Not yet."

Not yet. So maybe he figured it would happen at some point.

"I gotta be honest, seeing another version of me... Especially, y'know, like that. Shadowed? Yeah, it gives me the creeps."

Seth hadn't been concerned with how he was perceived by others when he was ravening and mad with Shadow. Maybe he was seeing himself in a new light.

He chuckled humourlessly at Archie's quip. "I don't need friends, buddy," he retorted, with irony. "But if I make 'em, I make 'em, I guess."

He peered at the Dewott, a rare curiosity in his lupine expression.

"How come you're, uh... my pal... anyway? What about me being a gigantic asshole to you didn't send you runnin'?"

Seth's eyes weren't so closed-off as usual – this was a moment of vulnerability for him...
 
Archie shot the Lycanroc a sympathetic look. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle seeing an alternate version of himself. The Dewott had long since made peace with the fact that they existed, but to actually see one face to face? Like looking in a fun house mirror, seeing yourself but wrong somehow. He wasn’t sure how Seth and Wes managed to do it, but he was sure that if they could do it with each other, they could do it with Leona. But, Seth wasn’t one to be pushed into anything. Archie would have to be satisfied with putting the idea in the Wolf’s head, and trust that the red Lycanroc would approach his tan counterpart when he was ready.

“Yeah, I get it. You got pretty intense when your Shadow was that bad, so it must be especially weird, seeing it from the outside,” the Dewott nodded. Especially since Leona seemed to be handling it rather well, from what little of he he’d seen. Everyone responded to Shadow corruption differently, even if you were technically the same person across universes.

He rolled his eyes good naturedly at Seth’s ‘I don’t need friends’ quip, but the Dewott’s expression got more contemplative in response to the Lycanroc’s follow up question. It didn’t really have a simple answer! Archie folded his arms, took a minute to think, then looked back up at the Lycanroc.

“When I first sought you out, for training, I was desperate, maybe a little scared. The whole Shadow stuff was still new to me, and I didn’t want to end up lashing out and hurting people. And you were abrasive and temperamental, and you’d gashed a hole in my stomach… But even then, I could tell you weren’t a bad person. You seemed trustworthy, you were fighting for a just cause, and I could tell, under the harsh exterior, there were things you cared about,” Archie began. “And, honestly? You seemed… Lonely. You’re a Trainer at heart, and Trainers are used to having their teams by their side. Obviously, I’m not saying I’m here to take your Pokemon’s place, but I thought maybe I could keep you company all the same.”

Having Wes there as a point of comparison certainly helped, as well. Archie had been able to notice the ways they were similar, how some of Seth’s worst excesses were just the same flaws he knew in Wes pushed to extremes by the much worse state of Seth’s world and his personal history. Maybe that had made him willing to respond to Seth’s outbursts more sympathetically, to begin with. Kept the door to a more lasting friendship open despite the red Lycanroc’s attempts to slam it shut.

“Back on your world, you met this girl, right? Saved her from some goons, seemed almost like there could’ve been a connection, but she took off when she found out you were an ex-con, right?” Archie asked. “Back when I first became a Pokemon, I met this Treecko. Back then, my amnesia was even worse than it is now, I could only remember my name, and that I was a human. But on that world, humans were a myth, a fairy tale Pokemon told one another. So that I was claiming to be one, even though I looked like any other Oshawott, and didn’t have any memories besides? Must have seemed pretty unbelievable.”

The Dewott paused again, smiling a little at the memory, “But, he took a chance on me. Believed my story without question. Told me I didn’t seem like the lying sort. And now we’re partners in an Adventuring team, and he’s my closest friend. And I guess I never really thought about how meaningful that was, really, until I got to thinking, what if he’d treated me the same way that girl treated you? I was lost, confused, and alone in a brand new world. If he ran from me, I think maybe it’d’ve broken me…”

It was hard for Archie not to see the parallels. Thought Seth’s brand new world was metaphorical – the man was freshly done with a life of crime – he had nothing and no one but his Pokemon to turn to, and the first person the Lycanroc had met had run from him. Spencer’s simple act of kindness had forever altered the course of his life. Maybe that girl’s momentary cruelness had done the same to Seth.

“So, I resolved that I wouldn’t do the same thing to you,” Archie said, “I wouldn’t run, no matter what. I’d show you the same kindness I was shown.”
 
Seth didn't say anything at first. Didn't look at Archie. But if he'd taken offense, he'd have just said so – or interrupted to tell him to shut his mouth. So he was thinking, then.

"Yeah, I admit I do really miss my boys. Forlasan pokémon aren't the same. The civilised ones are just people, basically human. The wild ones are more like animals, they don't have the same spark I'm used to. It's weird. But I'll adapt, sure, whatever. Make some friends."

His claws tapped the dungeon rock, tchink-tchink, tchink-tchink.

"You're a good guy, Archie," said Seth. "You'll get taken for a ride by a real scumbag one of these days, but..."

He shook his head.

"I get it, I guess. And... I'm glad. Kinda makes me get you a bit better, to be honest. Kinda weird to think that a single other person can make or break your whole fucking life, but... There it is. You had your Treecko buddy, every edgy loner ever probably didn't. The other wolves had that Rui girl, I didn't have her – or anyone."

Seth made a disgusted, childish face, and in a strangled, sing-song sort of mocking tone, added, "Maybe if someone's a big meanie, all they need is a FRIEND to understand them!"

He gagged theatrically.

"...It's so fucking stupid. Maybe it's true. I mean— I guess?? Still don't wanna believe it. Like, you're telling me I'd be a— a fuckin'— happy, well-adjusted, stand-up dude instead of a smug-prick bastard, if I'd just nailed the landing with Rui? If I'd been more noble or, I don't know, whatever Leona did. And everything woulda been different? Agate village not burned to ashes? The relic still in one piece? Cipher defeated and not fucking spilling over to other goddamn worlds on my watch??"

He slammed a fist into the canyon wall so hard that the rock splintered.

"For fuck's sake. What's the goddamn point of anything if I can lose this hard just by fumbling one fucking girl, years ago? With no way to go back and fix it??"
 
Well, Archie would be the first to admit that his previous world was pretty idyllic compared to any of the others he’d known. The Dewott would like to think that he still had a fairly decent head on his shoulders to know when someone was trying to take advantage of him. But then again, he had been one of the ones to let Alex get the better of him…

At first, Archie wanted to say something flippant to break the tension, but at Seth continued to talk, something in the Wolf’s tone made him hesitate. The Dewott’s ears flicked, then drooped, Seth was… Not angry, at least not at him, but definitely upset. And, even though the telltale signs of raging Shadow hadn’t yet made themselves known, the Lycanroc was definitely starting to rile himself up.

“I don’t know if it’s that simple,” Archie said, hesitantly, “Maybe Cipher was more proactive in your world, maybe Leona got a couple lucky breaks that you weren’t afforded. It’s not your fault, you did the best you could with the hand you were dealt.”

He reached a paw out, withdrew it briefly, then reached out again and placed it on the Lycanroc’s back.

“Believe me, if I could go back and do things differently, to have even the slightest chance of preventing the apocalypse, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But… We can’t change the past, we can only live with it. But you’re still standing, Seth, and as long as that’s true, it’s not over. You haven’t lost,” he said. “I mean, look; Ein’s dead and Lovrina’s behind bars, and they’re the whole brains behind the Shadow Pokemon operation, right? That’s gotta be a huge blow to Cipher. We also captured Dakim and Venus, shut down Terminal Two, and arrested a huge slate of peons. That’s not nothing, and it’s only the first step. Together, we’ll take down Cipher yet, you’ll see.”

“A-anyway, I don’t know about this Rui girl making you well-adjusted or stand-up, but lucky for you I seem to have something of a weakness for smug-prick bastards!” Archie smiled up at the Lycanroc again, and this time he did allow himself to inject a little humor into his voice. Only briefly though, he was back to seriousness with his next sentence. “Seriously though, you stayed and fought Cipher to the bitter end even as the odds increasingly went against you. That takes real courage, a lesser man would’ve run a long time ago. So I think you’re plenty noble already, Seth. Rui just didn’t see it.”
 
Seth listened to Archie until he finished – maintaining a neutral grimace, that buckled to a disbelieving chuckle once or twice towards the end. He made a show of rolling his eyes and waving off Archie's comforting paw, but in a way too theatrical to be a sincere rebuffal.

"I still say you're too much of a goddamn optimist, Archie," chuckled Seth, "but you're right about some things. It ain't over, and what we've done isn't nothing. Even if fuckin' Nascour and the rest are still out there...."

'We'. That might be a first for Seth.

The Lycanroc snorted. "Still, you sound like you've gone an gotten a big dumb crush on me, you soppy bastard. Listen, I appreciate the compliments and all, but I didn't stick around outta nobility, I stuck to fighting Cipher outta desperation, spite, hate, and all that good stuff. That, and... it felt good to win. Felt good to be the strongest, and kick the shit outta people I didn't feel sorry for stepping on. That's all."

He paused, and bit his lip.

"...Doesn't mean it can't be for a different reason from now on, though."

Seth wouldn't, couldn't absolve himself of his past, or rewrite his flaws. But maybe he was starting to imagine a version of himself that was better. That was something, right?
 
He hoped back a step or two, giving the Lycanroc some space when Seth waved him off. Still, a smile briefly danced across his features, once it seemed like he’d gotten through to the Wolf, despite his theatrics. It also seemed like the man was getting back to his usual, slightly caustic, self, throwing around accusations and name calling, including one that made Archie snerk to himself.

“Me? Crush on you? Believe it or not, I do have some standards!” he teased, “And I’m not some Pollyanna, either. You must be thinking of some other guy.”

Honestly though, Archie didn’t really take himself for much of an optimist! He did try to think the best of things and people, sure, but largely that was because, if he let himself get bogged down in the negativity, he’d have a hard time escaping it again. If he sank too deep, he feared he might break. More than anything, he found himself clinging to positivity as a coping mechanism. Especially since the whole episode with Alex.

While Archie did truly believe that Seth had a tendency to treat himself too harshly, he didn’t believe the man was flawless. It was good the Wolf was capable of acknowledging said flaws, but then, that had never been the problem. The problem was getting him to move past them, and work to meaningfully improve himself. That Seth was finally acknowledging that he could be better felt like serious progress. The Dewott had taken to imagining the Lycanroc as akin to a great boulder, perched at the top of a hill. Stubborn and stuck fast, but with great potential. Finally, it seemed like all his pushing was starting to pay off, that great boulder was finally starting to ease forward.

Archie wrapped an arm around the Lycanroc’s middle, and pulled them together into a side-hug. “Just gotta find the things you’re fighting for, rather than just the thing your fighting against. Like your friends, and your Eevees.”

Given what he’d learned of Orre from Seth and Wes, there wasn’t really much good there even before Cipher. So it seemed only natural that much of Seth’s fighting drive had been built around negative emotions towards Cipher. But fighting to destroy something was a risky bet, and could let one down some dark roads, as the Lycanroc seemed to well know by now. Not that fighting to protect something wasn’t also without risks, It’s just, having something worth protecting was also grounding, in a way.
 
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"Ugh, gross. That's so fucking sappy." Seth rolled his eyes and groaned... but he didn't shove Archie away.

He sighed, and looked like he was genuinely considering the idea.

"I gotta be honest, I don't really give a shit about any of that 'fighting for my friends' type stuff," he said, rubbing his temple, "and I gotta be honest, Orre is an absolute shithole, and I've have left it in the dust years ago if I weren't such a stubborn, spiteful bastard. But I guess... I get it. I don't want anyone gawking at me for being a big damn hero, but I think I could put up with having a friend or two, and fighting for – ugh, gods – for the greater good and not just to, y'know, kick deserving asses and punch punchable faces."

Seth clicked his tongue and stood tall to do a handful of aggressive stretches, apparently restless just from saying something insufficiently edgy and antiheroic.

"Guess the next steps are to fix up that Leona chick and go hunting down the rest of Cipher. I can help with that. I know all about those fuckers."
 
Archie snickered, and squeezed Seth tighter to his side for a moment before releasing the Lycanroc. He had to admit, he was pretty proud of the Wolf! Seth had come a long way from the time when even the mere suggestion that he work together with others was enough to inspire violence.

“Too late, you’re already a big damn hero,” he teased. Seth’s assistance in the Terminal Two raid had been instrumental to their success, after all! Even if he’d mostly been in it to punch in a few faces, they’d saved so many prisoners, and definitively ended Cipher’s hold on the Blaguarro Town. Just like that, Seth had gone from wanted criminal, to ‘innocent victim of identity theft,’ to hero. They were all in this together now. Seth might not have been summoned by Betel, and might lack the intuitive connection the Wayfarers shared, but as far as Archie was concerned, the Lycanroc was one of them now.

“Well, the great thing about fighting for the greater good is you’ll run into plenty of asses that deserve kicking,” the Dewott huffed, watching Seth’s antics with growing amusement. A little sparring might be in their near future, to help the Lycanroc blow off some steam and feel like a badass again after all the mushy talk. “That sounds about right, though. I’ll keep my ear to the ground and let you know if I hear anything on the Cipher front.”

He got the feeling they’d be dealing with Miror B. before long, now that the man had resurfaced again. That would then just leave the Terminal One crowd. Maybe some of them would make it easy and come for them, but worst case scenario, there was always the option of another raid!
 
Seth groaned theatrically at all the affection as if he were suffering an acute bout of food poisoning.

"I can put up with irritating bullshit if I get to kick asses and be celebrated for it," he grumbled. "Best part of living in the shithole I called home was having fans. Never could work out if I was a face or a heel, though."

From what Seth had to say about Orre, it sounded like it was all heels.

"I figure some of the Cipher assets in the frontier will show their faces soon enough, but there'll definitely be another raid to come," agreed Seth. "Anyway, you want intel on these losers, or what?"
 
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