None of the members of this traveling party pretended that they knew what the heck Fate was thinking, or why it went out to lunch and left Irony to tweak about for it.
In reality, Fate was having a lot of fun.
Palkia watched his little reunion in hysterics. “I… am… a… genius!” he chortled. It was quite obvious that Palkia was enjoying this immensely.
“Having fun?” Dialga asked, plodding into the room and trying not to scratch his annoyingly long and sharp foot ornaments on the luminous ivory-and-pearl flooring.
“I’m fine…” Palkia turned to his brother (well, every Legendary was related to every other Legendary, so…). “But did you see what I did there?”
Shaymin padded into the room. “Are you sure?” she asked, sounding concerned. “It looked pretty bad out there. Plus you made Cyrus go out into the open…”
“That was Mesprit,” Palkia argued back. “Besides, all I did was made the two pass Professor Driftwood. All of the other stuff was her doing.”
“And you could have stopped it, though.” Shaymin flicked into Sky form and leaped onto Palkia’s desk, where he was messing with the universe on what seemed to be a large touch screen, projected as a long, flat, rectangle of light. “But did you? No you did not. You could have!”
“No I couldn’t. I can’t control another Legendary…”
“But you could control Magnezone.”
“I could not! I make fate. I don’t control things. You want control? Go whine to Arceus!” Palkia spat, getting annoyed.
“I was busy in Johto.” Palkia grumbled quickly, snatching the Platter of Spacewarped Baked Goods out of Shaymin’s paws. Shaymin rolled her eyes and turned away to float back down to the floor.
“Well, fine.” She said. “Be that way.” And with one last wave of her short tail, Shaymin padded out of the room.
“There’s nothing going on in Johto, is there?” Dialga asked.
Kris was trying quite hard to not descend into the realms of hot-tempered, quickly irritable Persian-girls. She really was. But so far, everything that had happened here had gone south.
She trudged irritably through the forest, taking glances at her traveling companions once or twice. One of them was a helpless goofball, and the other was… well…
“What are we supposed to do now? And we’ve gotta get to that mountain, or else we’ll never get back home again. Remember?” Kris asked irritably, as much to the open air as to the other two. “Turning around isn’t the most fantastic of ideas, and nor is going forward. Can’t go around it, can’t go under it.”
“That leaves only one option: go above it.” Cyrus’ flat voice cut into her ranting.
After the three had ascended their mounts and were up in the air, Cyrus’ Crobat was sent ahead to scout for danger (danger, in this case, meaning Trainers or enraged deities who were the only explanation for the general bad luck they dealt with since entering Sandgem Town). After the Pokémon returned with no news of importance, he was sent back to his Pokéball after declining the offer to keep flying.
It was, as Crobat promised, an uneventful ride. Nothing but cold, wet cloud, pricks of light, and dark blue vastness around the three… it got quite boring. Finally, the trio – who had probably earned themselves a spot in the Strangest Traveling Parties of All Time by now – reached Eterna Forest.
For, in the exact location that the Eterna Galactic building had been before, there was the same building – except most of it was crumbled ruin.
A normal person in Cyrus’ position would not be too pleased with this. But this is Cyrus we’re talking about, so there was none of that ‘emotion’ garbage here. Arceus no.
So his face was the same stoic expression when he saw the crumbled half-intact building that used to be the Eterna Galactic Base.
“Ouch,” Caro mumbled, breaking the silence.
“Hey! Did you see that?” Caro whispered, pointing to the ruin. Apparently, he had seen it too.
Around this time, Cyrus was beginning to lose his grip on the disgusting things people called ‘emotion’. He was keeping a blank face and tone, yes, but with some difficulty. It was quite overwhelming, in fact.
“Hunh? What’s this?” Caro asked after a few more minutes of smug smiling and ‘Kekeh, I knew it’ remarks from Kris.
“It’s a piece of a Red Chain,” he said finally. “However, it seems to be heavily damaged and isn’t likely to do anything on its own. It looks to have been quite unused for some time, left somewhere else to be forgotten but moved quite recently. As an estimate, it was made about…” Cyrus’ voice trailed off into silence.
A few more minutes of silence, then-