"What?"

  "Uh." Astra stared back, frozen mid-wave. She lowered her arm slowly, the weight of Steven's attention returning tenfold upon her shoulders. Had she done something wrong again? Try as she might, Astra couldn't find what rock she'd thrown in the lake.

  "W...what?" she asked, confused and tense as a bowstring.

  Steven turned to her fully, disbelief still etched upon his face. "The twins," he said, blinking rapidly. "Why don't you want to call them?"

  "I—I just don't really...feel like I need to talk to other people with albinism?" Astra repeated, confusion mixing with frustration into a froth of bad feelings. What in the world had gone wrong now? She fiddled with her sleeves, looking anywhere but at the attentive Champion and wishing her hands would stop shaking. "It's… If I met another person with it by chance I wouldn't avoid it, but I've been doing fine by myself, so I don't think I'd get anything out of it...?"

  Steven stared at her. He squinted again, looking closely at her face, then seemed to get even more baffled.

  "Albinism," he echoed. "You think the twins have... What did Roxanne tell you when she gave you their card?"

  Astra swallowed, mouth dry. Not that it helped her talk, but it was still uncomfortable. Much like this abruptly reignited conversation suddenly was.

  But then the aged voice in her head repeated itself. Smaller mess, it said, and her resolve firmed.

  "She said that I could call it if I ever wanted to talk to someone who shared my...quirk."

  "Quirk," Steven spoke, voice flat. "And she was talking about your albinism specifically?"

  "Yes?" Astra said, hoping she wasn't compounding whatever fumble had led to…this. She hesitated, thinking back to her conversation with Rustboro's Gym Leader. Had something gone wrong there? "Well...she didn't say it directly? She'd just finished a lecture and there were other students around, so she kind of...danced around saying it outright?" Her expression flattened. "I don't really like talking about it, so she was just being polite."

  Steven's gaze rested heavy on her head. If the Champion caught her allusion to his current rudeness—her illness was imaginary, but he didn't know that—he didn't show it. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I see. And there wasn't any other...quirk of yours that she may have been talking about instead?"

  "No?" Astra shrugged, playing the conversations she'd had with the Gym Leader backwards and forwards in her head. Had Roxanne not been talking about her albinism? That didn't make any sense; what else could she have been talking about? She wasn't hiding anything else that wasn't...

  ...Um.

  Blood thundered in her ears, and every muscle she had tensed as one. Confidence withering, she stared at the Champion, breath catching in her throat.

  Steven gave her a searching look. Then his gaze turned toward one of the carvings on the walls. Something seemed to click behind his eyes, an errant thought breaching an unconsidered conclusion. He straightened up, considering Astra carefully.

  "If I may ask," he began, walking away from the entrance in a wide arc around Astra. "How long have you lived in Hoenn?"

  Why? Why dance around it when he obviously knew?

  "All of my life?" Astra said, nervously watching Steven stroll around her. What could she do here? Release her Pokemon—no, that was suicidal; any of his Pokemon would flatten hers, even if they were all in perfect health.

  Attack him herself? She clawed some precious air down her throat despite the panic. No, that was even worse. Maybe if she stalled him long enough, an answer would appear…?

  Maybe Echo would somehow sense her panic through her newly refreshed psychic shields and miraculously whisk her away.

  "I see." Steven hummed, having traveled a full half-circle around Astra as she stood near-motionless. He shrugged off his luggage and sat against the wall, leaning an arm against an upraised knee. The lantern's glow cast his silhouette far above his actual height, transforming it into a monster easily equal to the ones depicted by the ancient mural. The steady light left it disquietingly still, as if the shadow, too, was something painted on. "And where did you live, exactly?"

  "Petalburg," Astra ventured, pumping sincerity into the word as she worked to decode Steven's intentions. Why had he circled around her? Why had he sat down? He'd just said his farewells and was just about to leave! "I lived in...Petalburg." It was the city closest to the village, after all.

  "I see," Steven repeated, thoughtfully. "Did you live in Petalburg, or perhaps...somewhere outside of it?"

  "It wasn't...in the city," Astra slowly answered. Had he…not figured it out? Or had he figured everything out and was now fishing for the location of the village?

  "Shall I suppose that your home was...rather remote?"

  "…A little." No, she couldn't assume that. The absolute worst-case scenario…Steven had condescended to her, acted like a complete—if well-intentioned—weirdo, but all his actions told her he wasn't a monster. Even if he knew, maybe…?

  Stall. Stall and deflect, and hope for the best.

  "You have a family there, I imagine? Friends? A community?"

  "My grandpa," Astra confirmed. "And...others..."

  She trailed off. Steven tilted his head, nodding minutely.

  "Mmm. Did your community ever host visitors?"

  Astra went silent, staring at the Champion with wide eyes. The quiet answered in her stead.

  "None, then? Ever? Hm. Should I then hypothesize that this place didn't receive communication at all, for quite some time? Preferring their privacy, perhaps?"

  "W—why are you asking me this?" Astra stammered out, taking a step backward. She could teleport away, but that would really confirm it for him. It also assumed she could scrape together enough focus and figure out where to go, of which her options were extremely limited.

  "I am just a little curious, is all," Steven explained, that damned mask of calmness covering his face and mind as he shrugged lightly. "You seem to be unaware of a number of very widely known facts, and I suppose I just wanted to know why. I suppose living in a...secluded community would explain much of it."

  May and Brendan had asked similar things.

  Somehow, Astra couldn't seem to think of any way to downplay the truth like she had then. Panic was clogging up her thoughts, like sludge filling a metaphorical heart.

  "That said, I don't intend to pry into your home life," Steven continued, leaving Astra reeling where she stood at the sudden backtracking. What was wrong with this guy!? Could he decide whether to be completely terrifying or not already!? "A more relevant question is this: do you know what Pokemon types the Gyms in Hoenn specialize in?"

  What utter fresh hell was this? She didn't even know what hell was to begin with and it already couldn't compare.

  "No," Astra said, because she didn't—and also because she really didn't know what to do now except keep answering questions.

  Steven nodded. "Well, you've already met Roxanne and Brawly, so you already know that they specialize in Rock-type and Fighting-type respectively. Norman in Petalburg uses Normal-type, Wattson in Mauville has Electric, Flannery in Lavaridge prefers Fire, Winona in Fortree likes Flying, and Wallace in Sootopolis employs the ever-abundant Water-type."

  "Right..." Astra said, slowly. That was...useful, in a sense, but....why? What was he trying to do by telling her about all of the—er, wait a second.

  "That's only seven?" she questioned, brain still clogged even as the panic took a step down from the terrifying height she's only felt once before—while literally running for her life. "Aren't there eight Gyms?"

  "Indeed there are!" Steven lightly cheered. "I've mentioned them before; Tate and Liza. They're twins, and co-lead their Gym over in Mossdeep. I personally oversaw their recruitment, in fact. They are exceedingly remarkable trainers…"

  He smiled. "In much the same way you are, Astra."

  A spike of burning ice lodged itself in Astra's chest. Something was wrong. He was leading up to something. But what?

  "O—oh?" she asked faintly, finding herself retreating another step. "In...in what way?"

  "A way that made them particularly suited to running their gym," Steven said, watching her intently. "A gym which specializes in the Psychic type."

  Her veins froze into slush.

  "Because the twins are both Psychic themselves."

  Her thoughts burned to ash.

  Steven stared right through her.

  "Just like you are."

  Silence, inside and out.

  Time passed.

  Steel-blue eyes filled her vision, unblinking.

  He had known. Her useless stalling had gone nowhere, her deflections failing against the thrusting spear of his cool, collected words. Only the fervent blaze in her lungs made her move again, and Astra distantly noted that she hadn't breathed in almost a minute.

  The rhythm of her thoughts twanged, the sound of violin strings snapping as the panic gave up completely and a thousand other emotions replaced it.

  "Ha," someone laughed. It might have even been her. It was so funny. Humans couldn't be psychic! How silly of Steven to forget. "Hahaha. That. That's a funny joke, Steven! You almost—"

  Steven vanished.

  Whatever manic laughter had bubbled in Astra's throat died.

  The man still sat there, on the floor, but…

  But his mind was gone. Whatever method he had used to obfuscate his emotions had crystallized, turning away Psychic energy in all forms.

  She couldn't sense him. She couldn't talk to him. Maybe if she forced it, but as it stood...

  It was as if he had walked into the Dark.

  "I'm sorry, you seem to have cut yourself off, there," Steven noted, and Astra couldn't tell what his expression was anymore. "Could you repeat that?"

  She tried to speak. Tried to say anything at all.

  But she couldn't. Steven wasn't there anymore.

  She couldn't even scream if nobody could hear her.

  Astra's lungs, again starved for air, began to make up for her dead silence with horrible, involuntary enthusiasm. She took another step back, and then another, her quick, rapid gasps the only sound left in the cavern.

  This...this was insane. No, no! He—this was some trick! Some sort of...something. Echo had left Zubat in the stew and now she was getting hallucinations from food poisoning! It had to be, because if it wasn't—

  "You still seem unconvinced." Steven said, thoughtfully. "Perhaps a more direct piece of evidence? How about..."

  The human closed his eyes, focusing on something deep within. The crystal power around his mind sublimated, his presence reappearing—but the relief was short-lived, and Astra's breath caught once more at the very, very faint trickle of something horribly familiar.

  No. No. No no no no no no no—

  "Something like..."

  The trickle twisted, burning itself to form a terrible parody of something she knew intimately well, racing up the remnant thread of Astra's last broadcast.

  No no no no no no NO NO NO NO—

  {Th-s?}

  A message. Horrifically wasteful, formatting alien yet as basic and simplistic as could be. Parts of it had collapsed before she'd received it, even the brevity and short distance between them too much for something weaker than the first attempts of a freshly-hatched Ralts.

  But it was a message.

  Psychically transmitted by a human.

  Across from her, a small stream of blood dripped down Steven's nose. He blearily opened his eyes, swaying from side to side; if he hadn't been sitting he would have collapsed where he stood. He looked in Astra's direction, pupils unfocused.

  "Oh," he mumbled, shakily wiping the stain of red off his lips. He stared at his trembling thumb, crimson shining in the lamp-light. "I...really didn't think this through. Again. Could have eased into it. Why do I keep...oh salted skies…"

  Steven drooped sideways, then jerked upright and gave Astra a pained expression that failed to be a smile. "I'm...going to need a minute. Apolo—ough..."

  Steven dropped his head into his hands, minute shudders wracking his body.

  Psychic fatigue, part of Astra noted. She'd never seen it this bad…and from a single, mangled message? Whatever strengths Steven possessed, this was the absolute least of them; where she was a lake, he was but a speck of mist, ephemeral and impotent.

  That he had that meager strength at all was abominable.

  She—

  She had to run. He knew. He knew. Her village was wrong. May had lied. Humans were Psychic. And the Champion knew she was, too.

  She turned to flee, her legs trudging through space like tree sap. But she never took her eyes off Steven Stone, watching the man suffer through the fatigue with numb horror. One step. Two, three—picking up speed—four five six—!

  Distantly, Astra thanked the stars that Steven had arbitrarily left the exit completely unimpeded...and had...crippled...himself...

  The thought struck a chord deep within her, broken strings mending themselves, and she found herself slowing, coming to a stop only a few steps from the exit. Behind her, Steven Stone gagged on his nosebleed. He was still sitting there, either oblivious, uncaring, or resigned to her retreat. Waves of familiar pain and exhaustion billowed through his mental wall, not even slightly obscured.

  Astra watched him, her chest tight and mind whirling through impossible contradictions faster than a falling star. Why had he moved there? He'd placed himself as far as he could from the tunnel, leaving her with a clear shot to escape. If he had just sat at the mouth of it, she'd have no way of leaving without teleporting, and she hadn't really memorized any locations in Dewford for that…except maybe Briney's ship. Why sit down at all? Why did he send such a pathetic message that nevertheless blew out his well of energy?

  Steven had left the exit wide open and made himself completely helpless. Why!? He had to have known all this before! Why did he make it so easy for her to run when he could have...

  He'd known before.

  Their first meeting, back in Petalburg Woods. When she'd first spoken to him, his gaze had snapped right to her. The pressure she had felt had been unlike anything she'd experienced before or since. Astra had never figured out why he'd done that, but now...

  He'd known all along. For nearly two weeks.

  And...nothing.

  He'd done nothing.

  With a jolt, Astra realized that Roxanne had known too. The phone number she'd been given wasn't for albinism at all.

  It was so she could talk to other Psychic humans. The twin Psychic Gym Leaders of Mossdeep to boot!

  And if they had both noticed...who else had?

  And why had nothing happened to her!? If they had known for all this time that she was a Pokemon, then...!

  But...they hadn't been talking to a Pokemon, had they?

  If humans could be Psychic, then…

  Then they'd assumed she was a human Psychic. The shortest step between confusion and realization, the same mistake she'd just made in assuming the worst.

  So.

  ...

  Her thoughts whited out. She didn't know what to do. Everything she held as truth had been upended in less than a minute. Should she still run? Flee until she couldn't move anymore and hope nobody caught up before it all came crashing down? Her mission was in the greatest danger it had ever been. Everything logical in her head—or perhaps everything that was terrified—screamed that every second she allowed him to recover while she wasn't gaining distance was an existential mistake against everything she had done all this for.

  But in her heart...

  One and a half weeks. Steven had done nothing. Actively gave her every advantage to leave when he'd told her he knew, even if the way he did it was completely inept.

  And here he was. Crippled and curled up on the floor, desperately clutching his head as he tried to weather the burning drought in his brain.

  ...

  ...

  ...

  She...was so tired of misery.

  Hands trembling, Astra reached into her backpack. She looked at the mostly-empty jar in her grip, her last three Leppa berries jostling in the tiny puddle of watery juice at the bottom. Rare and hard to grow. An unparalleled restorative for alleviating Psychic fatigue. Unpleasantly spicy.

  She looked at Steven again, dread pooling in her stomach.

  But she still reached into the jar and took out the remaining berries.

  And, coated in a brilliant purple glow, slowly levitated them before the Champion's face from afar.

  It took long seconds for Steven to react. He twitched, then sniffed wetly, then groggily looked up as the berries' scent gradually registered. His eyes widened as he saw them floating in front of his face, and he held out a shaky hand. Astra obligingly dropped them into his palm.

  He stared at them, rolling the bright red fruit around before his twitching fingers plucked one out.

  "Leppa Berries?" he muttered, a pained grin crossing his face. "Heh. I can't say I've ever been treated with raw fruit before. But...thank you."

  He popped the berry into his mouth, chewing slowly. To Astra's astonishment it didn't seem to work, his fatigue still as rampant as before. It was only after Steven had swallowed that she noticed the edges of his ailment had started to dissipate, a process that grew only a little faster as he consumed the other two. Peculiar. It only took moments for a Leppa berry to cure her of fatigue; were humans unable to take in their strength as easily?

  "Well," Steven said at last, looking up at Astra ruefully. "Today's gone marvelously off-track for the both of us, hasn't it?"

  Astra didn't answer. Didn't know what to answer. Everything was fog and madness. But Steven wasn't hurting anymore, so...small improvements.

  "Right." Steven sighed, grimacing. "I feel I owe you another apology. I—"

  She really didn't care.

  "You're Psychic?" Astra asked. Steven considered the question.

  "By most standards, no," he said, groaning as he shoved himself back onto his feet. He reached into his pocket and drew out a folded piece of cloth, dabbing at his nose and grimacing as bright crimson began to stain the delicate-looking thing. "Anyone can learn a small trick like that if they're willing to put in the very great effort needed, but very few ever do. Natural affinities for the energy are extraordinarily rare; talents like yours, even moreso."

  So...only some humans were Psychic? Alright. Sure. Why not? It wasn't like the rest of their nonsensical species was consistent either.

  Except...

  "How did you close off your mind, then? What is that...pressure I feel coming from you, sometimes?"

  Steven's lips quirked. "Everyone has their secrets," he coyly refused. "I'm afraid what you're talking about is just part of my mysterious aura."

  He seemed to find that extremely amusing for some reason. Astra had never before wanted to manually embed her fist in somebody's face so hard.

  "What did you mean by my talent?" she asked instead.

  "Your skill with telepathy is second to none," Steven informed her. "I know of nobody else who communicates as you do. You gave me quite the shock back in Petalburg Woods, you know."

  Astra tensed. "So you did know."

  Steven inclined his head. "I did."

  "Why didn't you do anything, then?" she demanded, hands shaking in her sleeves. "What do you want?"

  Steven considered her thoughtfully. "Should I have done something?" he inquired. "Were you expecting me to want something from you?"

  Astra stared at him, her skull burning with unspoken accusations. Before this, she'd thought that he would've been throwing a pokeball by now. Her mission would've been over, her home doomed, and everything she loved scattered to the damn wind.

  But it wasn't, because somehow her disguise had an ablative layer she'd known nothing about. She had no answers for him. Only the terror of creeping through the brush at night and hoping the beasts in the dark wouldn't at last catch her scent.

  Steven's expression turned solemn; something of her fear must have shown on her face.

  "If I may ask," he said, gently, "were you expecting hostilities once you became known as a Psychic? Some form of assault, even?"

  What a ridiculous question. Of course she was.

  May had incited it the first time they'd met.

  But the way Steven was looking at her... Astra couldn't stand it. She turned away, clutching her own arms in a cowardly hug just to make herself stop shaking already.

  "You say that like I shouldn't," Astra muttered, refusing to look back.

  A pause, blazing with quiet agony.

  "In a perfect world, such a concept would have never crossed your mind," Steven said, his voice regaining that steady softness. "But even after everything I've done, there is still so much more to do before that dream becomes reality."

  A deep breath, followed by a level, solemn promise.

  "Astra, I can promise you with everything I am, no harm will ever befall you so long as I can prevent it. You are not owed anything for this, nor will I ask for anything in return. I do not know what you believe of this world, but I will tell you with absolute certainty:

  "You are worthy of love. The love of family and friendship; the love of community and of belonging; and the love of living in this world, and knowing that the world loves you back. You are worthy of this no matter what the circumstances of your birth are, nor what abilities you began with or cultivated, nor what experiences you have lived through or choices you have made."

  A beacon of light in the darkness. A tower of stalwart metal and spearline of piercing steel in one. Determination and resolve enough to drag a nation by the throat toward a distant, dream-like future.

  Astra turned around, eyes wide and mouth agape. Steel-blue eyes met her own, almost seeming to glow with their intensity.

  "There are those who say that you are different from them," Steven spoke, his presence filling the room in its entirety. "That you are lesser; an aberration to be feared or used. They are wrong, and I have spent all of my Championship working towards making sure that individuals like you will be free of the abhorrent superstitions of the past. That you and them can live their lives in peace and happiness, without the dread of prejudice or mistreatment."

  Sincerity bright enough to burn the dark. Rage enough to break the status quo. Compassion enough to reach through bloody thorns.

  Nothing that she was had been prepared to believe him. But, suddenly, believe she did.

  He wasn't going to hurt her.

  "Why?" Astra whispered.

  Steven smiled.

  "Because it is who you are that matters, not what. Because you should be free to do with the gift of life as you wish, and not have it be decided for you by those who can only see how we are different, and not the same.

  "Because in the end, despite what so many throughout history have said…

  "You are just as human as anybody else."

  The light shattered. Steel corroded. Piercing thorns choked out the sky as darkness fell.

  Steven Stone knew more than most.

  But he was still only protecting a lie.

  Yet Astra still found a measure of comfort in the sodden ashes of his impassioned speech. If Steven could be this fervent about protecting some neglected portion of humanity, then maybe...

  But it was still too much to process. It felt like her mind was leaking from her ears, the weight of everything that she had undergone in the past dozen hours pressing down like six months of forest detritus collapsing on her head in a single day.

  For now, she could trust that, if nothing else, Steven couldn't figure out her last secret. So long as that held true, she was safe.

  She was safe.

  The thought broke a dam, and Astra took a shuddering breath, the burning rush in her veins subsiding at last. Her whole body drooped at once, and it was only with a massive effort of will that she remained upright. The manic rush in her head subsided, and she could finally think beyond the immediate threat.

  "Okay," she said, looking up at Steven. She didn't smile at him, but Steven seemed reassured by her relatively relaxed posture.

  "I believe you," she continued, uncertainly, "but...why all this? Why tell me now? Didn't you have something important to do?"

  "I do," Steven confirmed, reaching for his backpack. His hand paused for a moment, and he drew something from inside before shouldering it on. He gave Astra another small smile as he held out an object: a steel-grey disk. "But when I realized you knew nothing about the situation...I couldn't in good conscience allow you to continue on without letting you know that you aren't alone, and that the world isn't inherently out to harm you. You are a compassionate person, Miss Astra—there is a community out here for you, should you ever wish to find it." He nodded to the disk, smiling gently. "And remember: I will always fight on your side."

  She accepted what she recognized as a TM with pursed lips. 'Steel Wing' was inscribed on the surface. Hm. Well, the gesture was nice and all, but couldn't he have found a way to tell her all of this without giving her a heart attack!? Still...

  "Thank you," she said, quietly. "At least I know now. I guess." She peered at him, frowning. "You could have done that better, though."

  "Yes, well," Steven glanced away, coughing. "I have gathered that I'm more suited to eloquent speeches than social delicacy. Apologies."

  Astra couldn't disagree. They were rather impassioned monologues, if...uh, thoroughly dramatic.

  Steven glanced at his Pokedex again, then winced. "Right, I really do need to get going now. But if I may bring up one last thing?" he asked, rushing past Astra and pausing at the exit.

  Astra really hoped it wasn't another life-shattering revelation. She'd already had...she didn't even know how many. It hadn't even been a full day since she got to this stupid island.

  "Sure," she said anyway, belatedly stuffing the disk into her bag.

  "I can assume your friends don't know, yes?" Steven asked. Astra flinched; both at the prospect of Brendan and May finding out about any of this, as well as recalling that they were still stuck somewhere in this labyrinth. "I'll take that as a yes. While I can completely understand why you hide your abilities, I urge you to consider if, how, and when you disclose this aspect of yourself to them."

  "What!?" Astra exclaimed, incredulous. Revealing more about herself was the last thing she wanted to do! "Why would I do that?"

  "Precisely because they are your friends," Steven explained, edging toward the tunnel. "This world will only grow more intolerable if you feel you cannot be your truest self even amongst friendly company, and keeping secrets out of doubt rather than necessity can strain even the strongest of bonds.

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  "Again, I understand your fear," he continued, a flash of sorrow making itself known as he did. "I've seen many relationships end horribly from such revelations, but there are also many situations where those involved only grew closer. And the good outcomes were far more likely to happen through a willing revelation than chance discovery.

  "And, unfortunately, I am afraid that you will not be able to avoid it forever." Steven grimaced. "You do not need to tell me why you only communicate through telepathy, but as I said, I've heard of nobody else in this world who can do the same. It is how I found out when we first met, and it is how Roxanne figured you out after your Gym battle. Others will find out too, and they will not be as morally beholden to keep your secrets as she or I. As you climb the ranks, word will inevitably spread, and your friends will find out, one way or the other.

  "It is still your choice, in the end. By all means, take what time you can afford to make certain of what you want to do. But I strongly recommend you inform them yourself, and soon, before time and circumstance do it for you."

  Astra stared at him silently. She had to tell them? She—it—but...

  Her brain was stuffed full. There was no way she could make a decision about that right now.

  "I'll think about it," she promised, smiling weakly. "Thank you."

  Steven nodded, his returning grin equally faint. "That's all I ask. Oh, final final thing: do you need help returning to Dewford? While I'm sure you're quite tired of me by now, you are perfectly welcome to accompany me back to the surface."

  Astra's face contorted. "N—no thank you," she managed. There had been a thorough amount of Steven Stone in her life today, and her capacity for it had overflowed ten times over. "I'm...going to check out these carvings some more. Maybe grab some of that shiny black rock for my collection."

  "Oh, you're interested in rare stones as well?" Steven asked, eyes lighting up in pure delight. "Absolutely fantastic! I have quite the assortment myself; I was searching for exotic minerals in these caves before Metagross alerted me to this buried cavern. Alas, while I'd love to compare our collections…well, I've got something that needs doing."

  He sighed ruefully, then paused. "Oh, sudden thought: do you have a lantern?" Steven checked. "Or perhaps a Pokemon who knows flash? I don't want to leave you in the dark."

  Astra silently held up her hand. Luminescent energy coalesced around it, bathing the room in a paradoxical bright-dark purple.

  "I think I'll be fine."

  Steven raised a finger, open-mouthed, then reconsidered, dropping it with a shrug. "Fair enough. Just...don't damage any of the carvings, please? I've taken a lot of pictures, but a site like this is literally priceless. Oh and obsidian—those shiny black stones in the tunnel—can get obscenely sharp when broken; it will literally slice your fingers to the bone without you noticing."

  "Goodbye, Steven," Astra said, thoroughly done. "It's been miserable. Thank you for everything."

  Steven stared at her, taken aback. He huffed, amusement dancing in his eyes.

  "Goodbye, Astra," he said, turning to the exit. "While our conversational topics weren't particularly happy, it truly has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance. If fate brings us together again, I hope you will find it a more enjoyable experience.

  "Take care," Steven finished, and finally turned into the tunnel—

  —where he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening as he registered what he was seeing. A pure deluge of emotions erupted from his mind—shock, confusion, realization, disbelief, annoyance/anger/indignation, dismay, horrible remorse and regret, and, finally, a deep, crushing resignation.

  Another crack in the dam. Nothing could ever go right, could it? This entire day had been nothing but catastrophe after catastrophe, and just when she thought it was mostly over...this. Catalyzed by Steven's sudden emotional cacophony, Astra could barely hold back tears of her own pure frustration. What the ever-loving fuck was it now!? Something in the tunnel?

  On the verge of utter delirium, Astra cast her senses into the tunnel and—

  No.

  Steven's mouth set a grim line as he stared at what he had discovered. Slowly, he turned to Astra, a pained sorrow etched in every frustrated pore.

  "For the record," he said, hollowly. "My warning wasn't meant to be ironic. I am truly, terribly sorry."

  No.

  Steven turned back to the tunnel and just looked.

  "I," he announced, "am inconceivably disappointed—"

  No.

  "—in both of you. Whatever comes of this rests solely upon your heads."

  Steven's eyes flashed, and something like a pressure wave briefly made her feel as though the mountain was weighing whether or not to fall upon her head.

  "Be better," the Champion commanded.

  No.

  Steven turned back to Astra. She did not notice how his steel-blue eyes met the pink of her own, nor the pained, thin smile surrounded by a pall of pity he wore upon his face.

  He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Resignedly exhaled the dregs of hope and secrecy.

  By the hateful sun and the callous moon and the ash of her pyre, please let it be a delusion.

  Steven opened his eyes. Nodded at her.

  But there was nothing left to say.

  He turned.

  And then he walked away.

  Please, no...

  The fading, crunchy tinkle of shoes on obsidian. A frantic scrabble of many things on obsidian. The crunch resumed, vanishing into the distance.

  One presence departed.

  Two still remained.

  A great and terrible silence.

  The purple corona in her fist remained, lighting the room with writhing terror where Astra could only be still.

  Waiting. Until...

  KrikChrk?Krik?Shik

  ChrkTchk?Krik?Chrk

  TchkShik?Chrk?Krik

  KRIKCHRK?CHIK?TCHK

  And.?

  Crunch

  Again.?

  Brendan stepped into the room, nervously shuffling to its center.

  Hesitant, pale as bone, shaking like a leaf. Regretful. Ashamed. Curious. Amazed.

  May followed him, slowly coming to rest at his side.

  Wide-eyed, jittery, disheveled. Incredulous. Indignant. Self-hateful. Amazed.

  Astra just stood there, blankly. The torch of her mind contorted on her hand.

  The three of them stood there in that ancient room, underneath the uncaring visages of an ancient calamity.

  Reunited at last.

  They stared at each other. May and Brendan in uncertainty, baffled gazes continually darting to the glow in her fist. Astra returned their gazes without any reason, thought, or focus; the action taken simply as something that was just happening.

  It was Brendan who moved first, raising his hand in a stilted wave as he grinned awkwardly.

  "Hey," he began.

  "How long."

  His smile vanished. They both winced, their entire bodies flinching at her demand.

  Eventually, Brendan spoke again.

  "The, uh. The Makuhita," he said, rubbing his arm. "Since then."

  "I caught him," May interjected, and even here some of her arrogant pride showed through. "We, uh, we were pretty lost for a long time. Our guys were almost totally worn down, too. Figured that if we managed to catch a native, it could guide us around. Found him nearby after something blew him up. I asked him if he'd seen anyone who looked like you around. Cause, uh. You were kidnapped by that Kadabra, right? I uh..."

  May shuffled around, looking faintly embarrassed. "I got worried. I've been sprinting through these caverns for four straight hours trying to find you, you know! I didn't even know if you were alive until you texted us. I had to punch out some Zubat by myself because we weren't going fast enough. Even dropkicked some creepy fucking purple gremlin thing.

  "But Makuhita recognized you when I told him what you looked like, and then he led us here and rushed ahead. Then he ran back and knocked us down in the tunnel. Practically dove back into his ball. Then, uh..."

  She trailed off, grimacing.

  "We...didn't get back up," Brendan finished.

  Astra blinked. Through the flavors of incoherent static, she managed to think: had May really been sprinting through these barren halls for the entire time she'd been down here trying to find her? Fought against the Pokemon in these rocky halls with her own two fists just for her sake?

  And had she seriously captured the Makuhita that had been trying to eat Aron? The one Astra had 'blown up?' Had that distant explosion been the flare that had led them here?

  She might have been a little touched. She might have been a little incredulous.

  But it didn't really matter. Nothing beside remained.

  "Why."

  "We didn't want to interrupt—" "I didn't want to talk to Steven."

  They paused, looking at each other. Brendan's expression thinned.

  "There was a lot of pantomiming," he stiffly explained, a bit of angry flush returning to his skin as he stared intensely at May. "But I believed that we were waiting for you two to finish what seemed like a heavy personal conversation without interruption first, and Makuhita knocked loose a bunch of broken obsidian that would've alerted you both if we'd tried to go back."

  May glared right back. "Steven's an ass, but you weren't like...screaming for help or anything, so I thought we'd just stand up and go in when everything wound down so I wouldn't have to look at his stupid face for long. Which we almost did, but..." She trailed off, grimacing.

  "Then he mentioned Tate and Liza," Brendan sighed. "Nothing about anything after that made any sense. I was confused and...curious."

  "I thought we were good to go with Steven finally getting his shit together, but suddenly Brendan was holding me back and making us wait even longer."

  Brendan bit his lip and looked away, shamefaced. "I wanted to know if there was some context I was missing. But by the time I realized what was happening I just...froze."

  May shifted uncomfortably, refraining from continuing the back-and-forth. Astra stared at her, the light encapsulating her fingers flickering wildly. Eventually May looked away, scowling.

  "I froze too," she mumbled.

  "And then..." Brendan started again, then hesitated and trailed off into a guilty silence.

  Astra stared at a spot between them both, but didn't register a single thing.

  "You heard," she said.

  Their eyes, as one, flickered back to the Psychic energy coating her hand.

  "Y—yeah," Brendan stuttered, trepidation burning in his heart.

  May was silent, but Astra could feel it in her as well. Apprehension, a hint of fear, aggravation, self-hatred, a colossal upwelling of frustrated impatience...

  But beneath it all...wonder, too.

  Brendan gulped. "I...we should have come in when we got here, or at least actually left. I'm so—"

  "Don't."

  Brendan stopped.

  Astra looked between them. She didn't want an apology. Knowing how bad they felt—very bad—only did so much. She wanted them to have not done it.

  But they did. And she would have to deal with it.

  Along with everything else. And there was so much else.

  May slowly lifted her hand. "Can we...talk?" she asked, cautiously.

  What was she supposed to do?

  She didn't know.

  "Okay," Astra said, for lack of anything else.

  The impatience burst.

  "So!" May started, eyeing Astra out of the corner of her eye.

  "You're...Psychic, huh?"

  Astra slowly turned to look at the corona surrounding her hand. Was this a nightmare?

  "Right. That's…uh. Your hand is...like a neon light bulb! That's cool!" the girl tried, grinning awkwardly.

  How was she supposed to handle this?

  She didn't know.

  Astra blinked at her. "Okay."

  "Have you really been using telepathy on us?" Brendan forced out. His face contorted, failing to choose between uncertainty, dread, self-pity, and concern. "All this time? Why?"

  What was she supposed to say?

  She didn't know.

  "Yeah," Astra said, and didn't elaborate.

  "Wait, have you been doing that like, constantly constantly?" May asked, peering at her. "Does that mean I've never heard your real voice? It's all been...wait. Wait. Holy shit."

  May stared at her, all else washed away by a dawning, wide-eyed revelation.

  "You absolute fucker!" May shouted, pointing at her in outrage. "You—I can't fucking believe this!"

  Astra stared.

  "May, what—?" Brendan asked, shocked.

  "You weren't throwing your voice at all, you lying shit!"

  Astra's jaw dropped. A wet, strangled chuckle burrowed out of her throat. That was what she was focusing on? Despite everything, leave it to May to find a way to leave her feeling momentarily exasperated instead.

  "You were telling your Pokemon what to do with telepathy!" May screeched, throwing her hands up in pure indignation. "You underhanded Rattata bitch! You even got me thinking I was in on the secret with the violin after you jumpscared me! But you were covering up your cover up! I can't believe you got me like that! Well played and fuck you, god damn. Wait."

  She paused, coming to a dead stop. She turned to Astra, eyes wide.

  "Wait, is that what happened to that bastard in Rusturf when he dropped the bird? Did you knock on his head?" she asked, eyes brightening like stars. "Please tell me you did, that would be so damn funny."

  How was she supposed to act?

  She didn't know.

  "Yes," Astra said.

  "Holy shit," Brendan breathed. Astra and May both whipped around to boggle at him. Astra didn't think she'd ever heard him swear before.

  "Was it you that slammed the Exploud into the wall!?" he asked, awed. "It—it makes so much sense! We were in such dire straits that you tapped into some sort of hysterical strength and psychokinetically embedded him into the stone!"

  "That is so fucking badass!" May's awestruck grin was so wide Astra thought she might dislocate her jaw. "Astra. Astra. Please tell me you can lift things with your brain."

  How was she supposed to feel?

  She didn't know.

  A small collection of obsidian stones had been tracked into the cave. Astra pointed at them. A couple choicier rocks glimmered with purple energy and flew across the room, depositing themselves in her pack. Her friends erupted with surprise and elation.

  "She really did throw that big blowhard into a wall!" May shouted, punching the air in excitement. "Fuck yeah, that's my girl!"

  "I saw it and I can barely believe it," Brendan said, looking at her in amazement. "That sort of power is...heh, astronomically rare, and Psychics are uncommon enough as-is! Astra, how—"

  He cut himself off, squinting at her carefully. "Er...how...are you? I—you've barely talked, and...you don't look too good."

  Astra stared at him through the violet gloom. It occurred to her that maybe humans couldn't make out facial expressions in psychic lighting as well as she did.

  How was she supposed to continue?

  She didn't know.

  So she said nothing.

  Brendan paled. May, for her part, looked as though she'd just thought of something and started mumbling to herself.

  "Alright. Alright," Brendan said, slowly walking up to her. "It's been a really crappy day. For all of us, but especially for you. But no matter what we overheard here, we're still friends, and we care about you, alright? So I think we all deserve some serious rest and recovery time. I suggest that we leave this dark cave, go heal our Pokemon, and...how about we go get some ice cream, yeah?" he asked, smiling at her. "Maybe rent a movie or something? Decompress. We can...discuss all this later, when we've had time to think about it, alright? We—I really screwed up here. I don't—I want to make it up to you, if you'd let me."

  Astra looked at him. Considered it, as much as she was able.

  It sounded...better. Better than this.

  "I—" she started.

  "Oh!" May exclaimed, hitting her palm with her fist. "That's why your face keeps changing shape!"

  Static.

  May frowned. "Wait, no. That's just how. Why are you even..."

  Astra could have felt the moment May looked over by the spike in panic and regret.

  She could have felt Brendan's stress and outrage and concern.

  But she didn't.

  Her illusion had been imperfect.

  She'd unknowingly been inconsistent with her 'face,' and they noticed.

  The last shred of anything she had. And it was flawed from the start.

  There wasn't enough of her left to even think of making an excuse.

  How was she supposed to keep this from falling apart?

  She didn't know.

  The world passed her by.

  How was she supposed to continue?

  She didn't know.

  An endless fog consumed her whole.

  What was she supposed to feel?

  How was she supposed to act?

  What was she supposed to say?

  How was she supposed to handle this?

  What was she supposed to do?

  Astra didn't know anything at all.

  And so she stood there.

  Floating, as if adrift from her body.

  Until everything faded away.

  ...

  What.

  Do you want.

  To do?

  A whisper on the breeze. A shiver up her spine.

  Astra didn't understand. Had there been something to hear?

  What was she supposed—

  What.

  Do you.

  Want.

  To do?

  What did she...want to do?

  She—

  She just—

  She just wanted to—!

  She knew.

  Then go.

  Astra looked up at Brendan. Saw his stressed fury as he scolded May for her thoughtless actions while trying to stay as a comforting presence. Looked over at May. Witnessed her fumbling, prickly attempts to take back her error, attempting to help in what little ways she still knew.

  She smiled. What silly, stupid, inconsiderate, but ultimately caring humans she had met.

  "Brendan."

  Her first friend paused his verbal lashing, worried eyes turning to face her.

  Astra smiled at him. "I think you're right. I need to get out of here."

  "Oh!" Brendan said, blinking in pleasant surprise. "Oh, uh, yes! I'm glad you agree. I'm sure we can find a way back if—"

  "But first, I have something to give you." Astra said, reaching up to fiddle with her hair.

  At her prompting, Brendan confusedly held out his hand. He stared down at the red hair clip she'd put there.

  "That's my mom's hair clip." Astra said. "It's one of the last things I have of hers. Can you hold on to it for a while?"

  "What?" Brendan asked, baffled and growing rapidly more concerned. "Why are you—wait, Astra!"

  But she'd already moved on. She walked up to May, grinning at her closest friend. May peered down at her, arms folded and face screwed up in utter befuddlement.

  "Uh," May said.

  "Hey, jackass," Astra said. May blinked, then snorted.

  "Well, I guess you're feeling better."

  "Eh." Astra shrugged, then mentally tugged on something in her bag. "Hey, I've got something for you."

  Blinking rapidly, May held out her hand and grasped the wavy patterned knife Astra floated to her by its still-barren handle. She looked down at it, confused and impressed.

  "Oh shit? Is this that knife you mentioned back in Petalburg?" she asked, examining it. "Man, this is sick. How'd you get this again?"

  "It's made from a reforged spearhead my father used, a long time ago." Astra informed her. "That's all I have left of him."

  May paused, looking up at her with an unreadable expression.

  "And you're giving it to me?" she asked. "Now?"

  "I'll want it back," Astra replied. "Take care of it for me until then, okay?"

  "I...I guess?" May said, confused. She paused, eyes widening. "Wait, wait—"

  But Astra was already strolling away, coming to rest at the base of the ancient mural. She looked up at the ferocious beasts one last time, then turned to face her friends, still smiling.

  "Hey Brendan," she called. "You said you knew about what other Psychics could do, right?"

  "Not really?" Brendan half-questioned, his distress soaring into the skies.

  Like a rocket.

  "But do you?" Astra asked again.

  He threw his hands up, "I guess!?"

  "Tell me," Astra said, grinning widely. Then, she pushed.

  The room glowed, every shadow banished from sight as Astra became the eye of a wild pillar of Psychic energy. It was all for show, really; she could have done this with only a thought and a clap of air. But honestly she deserved to be a bit dramatic if she wanted to be.

  "Can any of them Teleport?"

  A flash of awe. A horrible pause. Then, unfathomable rage.

  "What the fuck are you doing!?" May roared, her hand gripping Astra's knife so hard it had turned bone-white.

  "I can't deal with any of this shit!" Astra cheered. "At least, not right now. I am stressed the fuck out! So I'm going to go away for a bit. Two, maybe three days at most."

  "Where are you going!?" Brendan shouted, which was really unnecessary. It wasn't like her lightshow was making any noise. Yet.

  "Maybe I'll tell you when I get back!" Astra yelled in return. Then she paused, and looked right at May.

  "And I will come back," she said, her smile gone. Her eyes bored into the girl's, as serious as the sun. "I promise."

  May snarled, charging at her like a wild beast.

  "ASTRA, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE—!"

  Brendan was right beside her, scrambling to reach her in a fervent anguish.

  "ASTRA, WAIT! WE CAN STILL—!"

  She looked at the two humans, and smiled at how much they cared.

  "I'm sorry," Astra said. "I'll explain...something, when I return."

  May reached for her face. Brendan moved to embrace. The glow intensified, concentrated, little specks of light gathering from the corners of the room and sticking to her until her silhouette appeared to be white-hot.

  "I love you both. See you later."

  The world twisted with a violent pop, and then there was light.

  …And then Astra breathed in, smelling the cool, salty air of the sea once again. She looked up at the setting sun, and the cheerful, slowly burning hue of the sky.

  Above her, a Wingull cawed. Astra smiled as Peeko came down to perch on her arm.

  "Hey Peeko, is Mr. Briney around?" she asked, looking around the ship she had reappeared on. She didn't see anybody nearby, and Peeko trilled a negative to confirm it. "Can you go get him? It's...not an emergency, but really urgent. I need to go do something really quick while he comes, so I might not be here when he gets back."

  "Wing!" Peeko cheered, then took off into the air.

  Sighing, Astra searched the skyline of Dewford. Not finding what she wanted, she shrugged and closely examined the tallest building she could see.

  With a pop, she reappeared on top of it, elegantly balancing on the sharp edge she'd found herself on. Ignoring the surprised gasp behind her, she peered down at the city and, grinning, teleported once more, entering the Pokecenter and leaving an awestruck crowd in the street outside.

  Several long minutes later—express service had an actual cost but was very handy for the situation—she retrieved her now-healed team and popped right back to the ship with a burgeoning headache, leaving a stunned Nurse Joy in her wake.

  Mr. Briney was, amazingly, already waiting for her. He jumped at the sound of her appearance, clutching at his chest and turning to gape at her in astonishment.

  "Well lass, that's certainly a way to make an entrance," he managed, "but a bit of warning next time? I'm not a spring Combusken anymore!"

  "Sorry Mr. Briney, I was in a rush," Astra apologized. She absently noted that he didn't seem very surprised. Oh well.

  "So I heard," Mr. Briney said, readjusting himself. He patted Peeko, who trilled happily. "Peeko gave me one of our signals; I take it you needed me somethin' fierce. Can't say I was expecting a call this soon, but what can I do for you?"

  Astra opened up her PokeNav and, with a bit of fiddling, zoomed in on a specific bit of the mainland's coast and showed it to him.

  "Can you take me here?" she asked.

  Mr. Briney frowned. "That's a bit of an ask. It's gettin' late, and that area's naught but stone spires."

  "Please? It's important."

  Mr. Briney grumbled for a moment, then nodded. "Well, it's not too far out. I suppose I could make a quick jaunt. I won't be able to reach the shore, mind—you'd have to swim." He looked at her for a moment. "Or...maybe not."

  "Thank you."

  "Oh, it's fine. But what are we doing out there anyhow?" He peered at the docks as he began unmooring his ship. "And where are your friends?"

  "They aren't coming," Astra explained, flicking her wrist. Briney's eyes went wide as every knot tying them to the pier unraveled at once, now-loose ropes wrapping themselves up in coils. "And it's a one-way trip for me; you can come back here after I leave."

  "Aye?" he asked, eyeing her uncertainty. "And what are you doing out there?"

  "It's only for a little bit, but, you see..."

  Astra smiled at him. A weary thing, weighed down by four decades of strife and decline.

  But the corners of her mouth and glimmer of her eyes showed hope for what she sought next.

  Respite.

  "I just want to go home."

  Special thanks to my editors, Oh I am slain!, IronyOwl, FuzzyZergling, Half_Baked_Cat, and Flairina, for making this by far the most thoroughly editied trio of chapters in Hyphen. So far.

  Special mention: Fuzzy's works: , a Team Rocket Grunt story. , an original story starring a cultivator who gets isekai'd into a very strange and original world filled with bizzare creatures, magic, and living mythology. (Two published books!)

  Talk to me on . Here's the . Recommend my story to your friends and across the web!

  Half_Baked_Cat editor's note:

  Tanya Degurechaff's Hogwarts Adventure as my most popular fic or as the fic closest to this one as far as it having anything to do with Pokemon at all.

  Dermonster AN:

  It was always the plan.

  I hope you have enjoyed reading Hyphen thus far. I hope you will continue doing so.

  Next chapter, codenamed 'Succor', will arrive...eventually.

  There will be a lot of familliar faces. And, after a long period of heaviness...

  Respite.

  Thank you for being here. Have a happy new year.

  And most of all...Tell me what you think?

  Take care.