The next morning, George woke to the sight of Terez and Hein floating over him. Sunlight shone through the branches, painting the forest with warm colours, albeit with a purple tint. Not that this caught the Dewott’s attention at first. Dusknoir ectoplasm drowned it out well.

“You’re finally awake,” Terez said. “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

George rose his head, his back sore from a night on the stone. “About as good as I’ll get,” he groaned. ‘At least I had no bad dreams… because I’m living one already.’

Hein echoed a dull note, his arms dangling from his body. “The night was peaceful, at the very least. No Corrupted to speak of.” His antenna tilted, the ghost looked skyward. “There’s time for a small breakfast. We should get moving soon, however. We have plenty of ground left to cover.”

Remaining seated, George’s tail smacked the ground as he folded his arms. “Are you going to tell me what’s happening, finally?”

With Terez glaring daggers through him, Hein shut his lone eye, his ectoplasm twitching a little. “As promised. No later than when we stop for the night.”

“Promise?” George raised an eye.

“Promise.”

George then felt a hand on his shoulder.

“If he doesn’t tell you, then I will do it for him.”

“No need.” Hein snapped his fingers. A cold wind swept by moments later. “Say whatever you will about me… This old man does not break his promises,” he replied in a bitter tone. “Now then, breakfast.”

Terez pulled a handful of berries out of her bag, then divided them. Being the biggest, Hein got the most, while George, looking like a shrimp compared to the reaper ghost, got the fewest. He didn’t complain; his mind was too far elsewhere to complain about portion sizes.

‘It’s not quite the foster home's level of food, but… can’t really complain now, can I?’ the former human thought to himself whilst chewing on an Oran Berry. ‘Goodbye comfort, hello scavenging for food… Why does life always have to turn out this way? And what even caused it this time…?’

Short on answers, George’s questions would remain open… until tonight, at the very least. Terez might promise the moon, and Hein might feign doing the same, but George wasn’t going to put that much faith into their words.

If having faith worked, he wouldn’t be in the woods. He’d be with Blitzer, celebrating a hard-fought victory. Thinking up plans for the future, looking into where the Crest had taken Blitzer’s parents… well, someone sure was doing all of those now. Not that George would know the answer. He sighed.

‘Why do I even bother believing others…’

Having wiped the juices off their faces, or stomach in Hein’s case, they moved on. Most of the Anomalies from the day before still lay right where Terez and Hein had left them; on the forest floor, the damp night air having turned their bodies cold. Dead, in other words. George rolled his eyes as he walked past.

‘Not even going to ask. Probably just the spiel of ‘either it’s us or them’. Friends turned foe. Were they even friends to begin with? Probably not.’

They made their way through the forest, continuing southwards. On occasion they’d come across a settlement or road, both sooner avoided rather than followed. Who they’d find in any town was unknown, and the roads were a nonstarter: Hein told of ‘the Corrupted’ scourging through in large groups. Nevertheless, they still used roads from time to time; when it was most convenient, and when they could get off as fast as they got on.

Still, most of their time was spent in the woods. Rocks, dead leaves and sticks littered the forest floor, clusters of berries or mushrooms sticking out between. The wind was fresh and cool, even with the trees breaking it apart. Every now and then, tracks of feral Pokemon crossed their path, before darting away into the surroundings. Nothing they couldn’t handle, were the ferals not so shy.

Their main obstacle, aside from roads and villages, were the vast amount of hills. Steep, with streams of rainwater running down in search of the nearest river, and plenty of lichen and mud that George came close to slipping on. Close to the afternoon, they stumbled across one hiding the sounds of a town behind it. Terez blocked the path.

“We’ll have to take this one carefully. Don’t want to be spotted.”

“Is that really necessary?” George asked , one hand on the Azure Flute, the other inching towards his scalchop. “We’re quite far from Luminity now. Most people here should still be confused about what’s going on… at least not agree with it. We have to get them on our side.”

Hein scoffed. “Famous last words, lad. Don’t misunderstand me, you certainly aren’t wrong. But it takes just one sounding alarm for the Corrupted to know where we are. And that is not what we want now, is it?”

George groaned. Hearing that old, decrepit Dusknoir counter him was like nails on a chalkboard. Especially when he had a fair point. “Right… can’t even buy anything, can we?”

“There’s a reason we resorted to stealing last night,” Terez commented, her eyes icy as they looked away . “I do not like it either, but we have to avoid the villages for now. Reconciliation comes later.”

George bit his tongue. How much lower could they sink?

“Right, same process as usual?” Terez asked.

Hein shrugged. “Go ahead. I’ll come after you.”

Terez extended her psychic energy towards George, sweeping him off his feet. She forced him and herself forwards up the hill, floating over all the slippery ground they’d have to cover otherwise, at a speed akin to going down the hill rather than up.

For George, it was odd, despite Terez having pulled far more intensive stunts. She limited herself to going uphill; one could only use their powers for so long before fatigue set in.

From the vantage point at the top, they had a view of the town. Some three times the size of Greenfield, with far more roads and fields to cover. Once again, they skirted around the edge, careful to not draw attention to themselves. Hein made the shade just a little darker to help out; Ghosts had a unique mastery over the dark, and he used it to their full advantage.

Having passed the town, they continued through the forest until stumbling upon a familiar sight: A clearing, and a sign. “Spore Trail MD - keep out!” it read. George had an idea.

“Do you think we should go through the Mystery Dungeon?”

Hein shook his antenna, holding up a hand before his chest. “Mystery Dungeons are full of the Corrupted. I thought you were aware of this already.”

George’s ears went flat against his head, his tail flopping onto the ground. “There’s… Anomalies in there. They are feral. They can’t talk. Even if the Alliance all have that dark glow around them, it’s not the same.”

The Dusknoir echoed out a sigh. “If only they weren’t so similar. But I’m afraid that is the reality we live in,” he said as he floated past the entrance.

A chill went up George’s back as he followed the Dusknoir, Terez sticking close to him. “...Explain. How do you mean, they’re the same? They aren’t dungeon Pokemon. They can talk, they’ve got names, they’re…” He sucked in a breath, the chilliness getting to him. “They were perfectly fine, only to suddenly start glowing all at once… there has to be more to it than that!”

The old ghost stopped, and stared towards the shadowy border of the Mystery Dungeon. “Why yes, there is. But it is not what you think. I’m afraid you’ve only scratched the surface.”

“Hang on a minute…” George said with bated breath, his fingers shaking. “How can they be the same? They’re not ferals… they’re not…”

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Terez walked past the Dewott, following Hein into the forest once again. “It’s… not easy to explain, George. To be honest, I’ve been dreading the moment we’d have to explain this to you, even though we’re not backing down from it. Everything you ever believed, and the whole reason why you were brought to Eravate to begin with… it’s all related to this.”

George’s ears flattened against his head, as he inched his way forward. Moss tickled against his feet; it felt as if ants crawled underneath.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” The Dewott swallowed. “And you… you were there with me the entire time. From the day we fled Greenfield, you and Skal showed up to bail us out of there.” ‘Me and Blitzer....’ “What do you know about all of this?”

The Gardevoir breathed in deep, the air cooling a little as she exhaled again. “Everything.”

“Ahem,” echoed a hollow voice. “Save the questions. I’m afraid we are quite close to a village still. Even closer to a Mystery Dungeon, as a matter of fact. It wouldn’t do any of us well if the wrong pair of ears caught wind of this conversation.”

“Of course,” Terez said. “George, if you would kindly…”

A growled sigh came out of George’s throat. “Sure,” he said, eyes going straight past Terez, into the back of Hein’s antenna. Watching the old ghost pass through a tree, all while his arms dangled from his ectoplasmic and unnatural body brought all the wrong emotions out of him again, in the form of clenched fists.

‘Hate the way he even moves, ugh… He defies physics like he defies common sense. It’s like he doesn’t even care about how he looks, or sounds. Just do as I say, no fun allowed, because there’s no such thing as happiness anymore. I mean, the world is what it is, but…’

Struggling to make sense of the Dusknoir, George followed in Terez’ footsteps, pretending she wasn’t going in the same direction Hein was. It was comforting to think about.

* * *

Afternoon turned to evening, and the light vanished with it. Alas, the winter months left little room for the sun, and that didn’t change even with the sky cracked open. Just before the sun sank below the horizon, a handful of snowflakes fluttered from above, coming to a rest on the grass. Accompanying the snow was a gust of wind strong enough to make the hairs on George’s neck stand upright.

Thankfully, the snow didn’t settle, and the path across several forests and plains was manageable. Spore Trail wasn’t the only Mystery Dungeon they’d pass: Several others popped up along the way like mushrooms after rain, and each time the trio dodged them. In addition, they had managed to sneak up on a duo of Anomalies dozing away on the side of the road. Former Alliancemen, as the outline of their black scarves would show. Hein and Terez made sure their nap wouldn’t go disturbed.

At day’s end, they had come to a stop in the woods, far away from any town or road. The spot was a tiny valley, surrounded by hills one could chuck a rock over with little effort. A perfect place to spend the night, were it not for the cold and them being out in the open.

George, Hein and Terez set up for the night: George finding the best place to lay down, Terez stoking a fire with several dry sticks, and Hein setting up tarps in case of rain. It was cold, damp, and smelled like mushrooms, but it was the best they’d get.

And for George, it was time to act. Just as a dinner of Tamato salad with some Lum juice squeezed over it was given to him, he set it down beside him.

“Alright. I’ve waited for long enough. You promised you’d tell me by the time evening rolls around. So tell me,” George asked, looking over the campfire with his face coated in an orange glow.

Terez, sitting to the right side of the campfire, looked at George with a raised eye. “Isn’t it better to talk after dinner? You haven’t properly eaten in a while.”

The Dusknoir sitting to the left propped himself upright, putting the dressed cluster of lettuce and Tamato on his lap. “It can wait. We weren’t having anything warm tonight. Like most nights,” he deadpanned.

“If you say so,” Terez said, fidgeting with her hands. “I put as much love into that salad as I can. Don’t forget it.”

A sound akin to a deep breath left Hein’s body, as the Dusknoir lowered the bulk of his ectoplasm into the ground. He turned his eye upon George, who shirked back in response.

“Have you heard the stories of Yveltal, and the cult dedicated to him? Have you heard the tales of how they ravaged Eravate many moons ago?”

George gulped. “No. Maybe a snippet here and there, but that’s where it ends.” ‘I could’ve sworn I’ve heard someone talk about a cult… nothing about this Yveltal, though...’

Hein tilted his antenna up at the sky, where the distant stars twinkled in the purple night. The void that tore into the sky hadn’t claimed their light yet.

“Old as it may seem… It only happened some sixty years ago. Should you encounter some of the elderly folk one day, they might have stories to tell. If they wish to remember that horrible time.” Hein winced, the yellow bands on his arms pulsating. “Nevertheless, they were a threat to this world. They sought nothing more than to dominate, destroy, and kill those that stood in their way. It took the efforts of a united Eravate to defeat that monster, and chase those damned cultists back underground.”

George sat upright, a cramp working its way into his cheeks. ‘He sounds… incredibly bitter about the whole thing.’ “Back underground… Are you implying they weren’t brought down?”

The Dusknoir sighed, as he placed his hands on his lap. “Why yes. Out in the open, they were outnumbered. They were revealed. They were nothing without their dark master. Sunlight is the best disinfectant, as they say… but I digress. They vanished underground, occasionally rearing their ugly heads, but still operating under the same code. The same philosophy, if you will… not that it can be called a philosophy,” he said, his voice tapering off as he looked away.

“Right… and what happened after?” George asked. ‘Bitter like chicory…’

“Life went on,” Terez replied. “People assumed all was well. Eravate was united under a king, things seemed to be going well. Little did we know at the time.” She shook his head. “Until Artanouk took the throne.”

George leaned back, his ears folded his head as he fidgeted with his scalchops. “Artanouk, huh.” ‘Could’ve guessed he had something to do with it… he was the first, wasn’t he?’ “When did he become king?”

Terez nodded. “Twenty to twenty five years ago. I am not sure when, but I was still a young girl in those times. I remember attending the celebrations in Luminity after his inauguration with my father. We happened to be in the area.” She breathed in deep. “But let’s not get off track here. How do you remember Artanouk?”

“Ehh…” George raised a hand to his chin. “Calm, collected, incredibly mysterious… The reason for that is self-explanatory now, of course, but he looked like a schemer. Someone who thinks ten years ahead or so. Inspirational, maybe?”

“Mhm,” the Gardevoir nodded. “Believe it or not, he was anything but those in the first few years. He was stressed, easy to irritate, quickly frustrated, and could never think too far ahead. Because of that, his authority largely became sidelined by others in the government. He wasn’t fit for politics.” She folded her arms. “And then he was ‘approached’.”

“Approached?” the Dewott asked. ‘I don’t like the sound of this.’

“By the true mastermind behind the cult,” Hein took over again, the bands on his arms and antenna glowing again, as the maw on his chest hung half open. “His true identity is complicated. But we do know he sought out Artanouk… and convinced that blithering fool of a king to ‘follow his lead’... I do not know whether he had become jealous, saw an opportunity, or else. But he accepted the cult. He accepted the darkness. He became one of the Corrupted.”

George folded his arms. “You make it sound like they had no choice.”

“But they did,” Terez said. “Artanouk… whatever happened, he changed overnight. Gone was the angsty young monarch, and in his place was the Artanouk you came to know. Behind everyone’s backs, he plotted to bring the cult back: Not under Yveltal, mind you, but the true master.”

The wind blew overhead, stirring the fur on George’s head further up. “But he wasn’t a king anymore when I met him. What happened?”

Terez clutched her arm. “His plot was uncovered by a certain Patrina Rosemary. She was a rich, influential member of his cabinet, and she caught on to all the changes. Her response was to overthrow him, and found her own dictatorship in its place.”

She sighed, turning her head towards the north. Towards Luminity City. “Artanouk disappeared underground before he could be captured. The Alliance was formed then… along with some of his loyal supporters. But it wasn’t just a group that wanted to bring Artanouk back. It was also a front for the cult.”

“Hang on…” George said, standing up. “Then how come you were a part of it? How come you led me and Blitzer there? How come we never saw any of that cultist activity?”

Terez recoiled back. “I-”

“Explain yourself! You- ngh!”

A cold hand grabbed George’s arm. “Let her explain in her own time,” Hein ordered, as he loomed overhead. “Rest be assured, she had her own reasons for signing up. She discovered the horrible truth. Everything has a reason… including why you never saw any occult nonsense in your time.” He pressed a finger against George’s cheek, tilting his head towards Terez.

George growled, too intimidated to do anything further. “...Fine.” ‘ Deep breaths. If Terez wanted me gone, wouldn’t she have done it already? Like Hein would’ve…’

The Gardevoir pressed her fingers against her head. “This is all a lot to take in, I know. But consider this. The very king of Eravate, the leader that the whole continent was supposed to have trust in… even he fell to the corruption. And if Artanouk couldn’t manage it, then who could have?”

George clasped his hands in front of his nose as if praying, his whiskers twitching back and forth. “No one. Except you guys, I guess.” He sighed. “Tell me something.”

Terez raised her head. “I’m as open a book as they come. Go on.”

The Dewott breathed in deep. One constant in his time on Eravate is that everyone had their secrets, and those secrets were always put behind fifteen different locks, each with a different key that had been thrown in the garbage. The idea anyone could claim otherwise still felt ridiculous, even though he wasn’t in a position to argue.

“If you knew all of this was going on, then why didn’t you do anything before? Instead of waiting until the end. You could’ve not taken me right to Artanouk, you know. Wouldn’t have had to run for my life. Wouldn’t have ended up here.”

To this, the Gardevoir had but an exhausted sigh to give. “I was deep inside of a Rattata’s nest, George. One wrong move, I’d have been skinned alive. There’s not a whole lot of opportunities to act at all, let alone coordinate it properly. Even on that long walk to Drasal. Skal is one of them. I couldn’t gamble our lives on me beating him. Or Gareda, for that matter.”

“Not even that,” George replied. “What about before I even woke up here? Why not fight against these guys when they were still out hiding?”

He scarcely had the time to breathe before Hein cast his shadow over him again. He turned to meet his eye, then gritted his teeth. Given the frown coming his way, he wasn’t expecting things to end well.

“Let me make one thing very clear. I dedicated my life to stamping them all out decades ago. Longer back than you could ever remember. The same goes for Terez, and all those we associate with. Do not dare insist we did nothing.”

George breathed in deep. “Then, pray tell, why are they still around? Why are they stronger than ever? Why are we on the run now?”

The ghastly face on the Dusknoir’s body glowed, as the ghost waved a finger before George’s face. “Because things aren’t so simple, lad. I assumed you understood this already, but I suppose I was wrong.”

The Dewott frowned. “You know I’m right.”

Hein nearly pressed his antenna against George’s head. “Every inch of me knows otherwise, you utter fool. You’re about halfway to the moon. Let me repeat: Eravate’s supposed monarch was a cultist. As were many of the folks you trusted, most of your mentors included.”

He leaned back, the tone of his voice calming. “Think for a moment. They’re only a sample of what we’re up against. Neighbours, shop owners, mercenaries, Soldiers, mayors and travellers. From hard workers to lazy bums, from the highest highs of society to the most depressing lows… the cult was literally everywhere. Ever since Yveltal’s fall, this is what they’ve been working on. Infiltrating every last corner of society. Just who do you think isn’t involved?”

George was quiet for a long time as he contemplated the question. “The Smaugus,” he’d answer, only for his feet to grow cold. “Wait… no. Chronos, that whole mantra, being so closed off…”

The Dusknoir tilted his antenna back. “Do you understand now?” he asked. George lowered his head.

“...I do. It… is really hard to believe it’s that bad.”

“You don’t want to believe it,” Terez responded, leaning forwards to him. “Neither do we. But we cannot look away from reality, at the end of the day.”

She raised a finger. George’s eyes shot up from an invisible nudge.

“Bury your head in the sand now, and you’ll soon find yourself entombed.”

“Yeah…” George sighed. “Sorry for doubting you. Both of you.”

“Take it easy,” said Hein as he returned to his spot around the fire, his ectoplasm curling around a log as he gazed towards the stars. “That decrepit king will not get the last laugh…”