Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As far as Mew was concerned, Mystery Jungle lived up to its name. But that might just be because Mew had no memories. Everything about the place was mysterious beyond belief: the strange sky that changed between blue and grey and black; the denizens of this place who attacked Mew on sight for seemingly no reason; the way the land itself shifted and moved around like it had a mind of its own; and all of those strange, green and brown things that stuck out from the soil, waving to and fro. 

Most of those weird green things couldn’t talk. There was one, however, who could walk and talk perfectly fine—in fact, he was walking away from Mew right now. He carried a brown bag and wore a blueish-green piece of cloth around his neck. Mew silently floated after him. When the green thing had first found Mew he’d been really excited, going on and on about some kind of “Dark Matter” and “reincarnation” or whatever it was. But when Mew revealed that they couldn’t remember anything, never mind a Dark Matter, his interest in them had taken a drop off a cliff. Mew didn’t know what his problem was. It wasn’t like they had chosen to lose all of their memories. They’d just woken up one morning with an empty head (and an empty stomach, for that matter). 

Mew wanted to ask him something, but it seemed to them that walking green thing might not be the nicest thing to call him. So they said, “Sorry, what was your name again?” 

The green thing stopped, heaved a great sigh, and turned around to stare at them. “Aster,” he said in a dead, toneless voice. 

“Right, that. Aster. I’ve got another question.” 

“Can’t you ask someone else?”

“Who else am I gonna ask? You're the only guy here who hasn't tried to hurt me yet! Come on, please?”

With a mighty groan, Aster spun on his heel and set off at a brisk pace. Mew decided to take that as a yes. 

“So there’s these green and brown thingies popping up from the ground, do you see them?” Mew darted through the humid air to each in turn, pointing them out as they went. “Right over here, and there, and we just passed by a humongous one! You seeing this?”

“I see them,” he said without stopping. 

“What are they?”

“They’re plants.”

“What are plants?” 

“The green objects you keep talking about,” he said, staring straight forward. “Now shut up and let me think.” 

Mew had no clue what Aster was thinking about. What was there to consider, anyways? As long as they had a place to sleep and food in their belly, Mew would be perfectly happy—nothing like Aster. He was grumpy and cold and a bit of a jerk, but he was the only Pokemon in the entire jungle who actually spoke to Mew instead of attacking. And he’d given them food—a sweet, crunchy red thing he called an apple—so maybe he would give more if they kept following. 

A sudden rustling came from a shadow to their left, and then a purple and yellow blur leapt out. Mew only caught a glimpse of gleaming fangs and piercing red eyes before a gust of wind pummeled the Pokemon in its side, sending it flying back where it came from. Aster was pulling Mew away with one scaly paw and brandishing a brown, gnarled stick with the other. “Don’t nod off. It’s dangerous here,” he said. 

“Yeah, I know it’s dangerous. I’ve been living here for weeks, and every day someone comes after me!” Mew flew up, latched onto the top of Aster’s head, and peeked down at him. “Tell you what: how about you carry me? It’ll be easier to keep me safe this way!”

Aster silently glared up at them. After a few unsuccessful attempts at peeling them off, he threw his paws in the air in frustration with an unintelligible shout and started stomping through the jungle, occasionally peeking over his shoulder to check for something (maybe another angry Pokemon who was waiting to attack them). For their part, Mew had intended their comment to be a joke; it seemed he’d taken it poorly, like most things. They stayed on his head anyways. It was far easier to rest and let him do the work of walking instead of expending their own energy to fly.

As they walked, Mew looked up at the canopy. Between the tops of the plants, they saw the big blue expanse up above; they had overheard a wild Pokemon calling it the “sky” once. A bunch of puffy white things drifted lazily across the sky, forming strange and fluffy shapes. 

“Aster?” they asked. 

He didn’t answer. He just kept walking. 

“Hey, Aster.” Mew tapped the top of his head, then pointed up. “What’re those white things in the sky?” 

Aster still didn’t reply! Honestly, what was with him? It was like he had forgotten they were even there. 

Mew rapped the top of his head several times. “Aster!” 

“What? What do you want?!” he snapped. 

“Didn’t you hear my question? I asked what those puffy white things in the sky are!” 

He jerked his head back roughly and glared at the sky. “They’re clouds. Now leave me alone!” With that, he continued stomping through the jungle. 

As they traveled, Mew didn’t leave him alone. Quite the opposite, in fact. Every so often Mew would ask a question about something they saw, and Aster would blow them off, and they would ask again and again until he would finally relent and give them a short, curt answer. It went like this for hours, during which Mew managed to extract a surprising amount of information from Aster’s mind, especially considering how reluctant he was to speak. For example, there were actually several different types of plants. The massive brown ones that towered high above them were trees, while the short, wide, green ones were called ferns. 

“So what kind of plant are you?” Mew eventually asked. 

“Not a plant.”

“How come you’re all green, then? And look at this!” Mew reached down and poked the huge, dark green protrusion sticking out from Aster's rear end. “This has to be a plant! It’s green and it’s growing out of you. By that logic you’re a plant, right?”

His shoulders tensed up as he exhaled through his teeth. “If you must know, I’m a Treecko. Why do you ask so many questions?”

“I can't help it! This is all so interesting!” Mew took off from his head and flew into the air. They gestured at the surrounding jungle, filled with things they couldn’t recognize. “I know I can’t really remember anything, and I know you’re not happy about that, but this just means I get to find out about all sorts of stuff for the first time again! I’ve already learned about so many things, like plants and the sun and soil! And there’s loads more to find out, stuff that I probably can’t even imagine! Like, I don’t even know what sand is! And maybe I’ll find out if I follow you!” 

As Mew spoke, they zipped and flew all around the jungle. They were filled to the brim with excitement at having finally met someone who was willing to answer the questions they had, and they needed an outlet for all that energy. So they flew around in circles, going higher and higher, the wind blowing through their short pink fur. Aster turned this way and that in a vain attempt to keep up with their movements; eventually the Treecko pressed a paw to his head. 

“Okay, okay,” he said, eyes spinning in their sockets. “Calm down, you’re making me dizzy.” 

Mew came to a halt, and lowered their altitude to hover before him. 

He stared at them for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek, then said, “You say you’re curious about the world because you don't remember anything?” 

“Yep!” 

Something flashed in his eyes—recognition, or maybe sympathy. The Treecko rubbed his nose, then blew out a long breath. “Alright…I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll let you ask me a question about whatever you want, and I’ll answer it. After that, you have to stop asking me stuff. Sound good?” 

“Oh, yeah! So I can just ask you to tell me whatever I wanna know?!” 

“Any single thing—” 

“I overhear all kinds of stuff in this jungle! Can you tell me about icebergs? Can you explain what chairs are? What about a den? Oh, oh! This one time, some flying guy was moaning about Pokemon coming from something called a ‘town’. How about you show me a town as well?!”

“I said I would tell you one thing,” he grumbled. 

“Oh, right,” Mew said. They pressed a paw to their chin. “Uh… You come from a town, right? Can you tell me what a town is?” 

“A town?" The Treecko rubbed his nose. ”I mean…there’s not much to tell. It’s a place where Pokemon live.“ 

“Like a jungle?” 

He shook his head. “That was your one question.” 

“What?" Mew searched his face for any signs of him joking, only to find none. ”Oh, come on! That was barely an answer! I could count the words you said on one paw!” 

“Do you even know how to—” Aster cut himself off, rubbed his tired eyes, and sighed. “Now that I think about it, a town is something that’s kind of hard to describe. I’m…actually taking you to a town right now. I reckon I can show you around there. It’ll be easier than trying to explain it.” He extended his paw. “Deal?” 

“Deal!” 

But Aster didn’t make any move to start taking Mew to his home; instead, he stood there with his paw outstretched. Seemed he was waiting for something. 

Mew tilted their head. “Something wrong?” 

“…Never mind.” He lowered his paw. “Come on, follow me. I reckon the trip to the town will take a while, so don’t get impatient with me.” 

“Oh, great!” They flew up and latched onto his head again. “Lead the way!” 

With one last sigh, he set off. 

The trip to wherever Aster lived was slow going. The Treecko had trouble trudging through the jungle’s undergrowth, to the point where he regularly stumbled over exposed roots or slipped on fallen leaves. More than once he tripped and fell flat onto his face, then slowly rose to his feet with many grumbles. After the fourth time, Mew made sure to leverage their flight by grabbing onto his shoulders and keeping him on his feet whenever he tripped. It was strange: he was at least partially a plant, so they didn’t see why he would be struggling so much with walking past plants. After what felt like years, they finally spotted something other than the jungle. 

Simply put, Mew didn’t know how to describe what they saw. They just didn’t know the words for it. A whole bunch of unfamiliar shapes and colors and smells assaulted their senses, overwhelming them with stuff that was simply new. Hundreds of voices overlapping and something sizzling. The taste of fallen trees. The air smelled sweet and sour and salty, and the odors only grew stronger as they approached the new place. A dirt path led them out of the jungle and to a huge wooden platform, and beyond that platform stood a group of trees, but these ones were different from the trees Mew had seen in Mystery Jungle: the trees here had odd rectangular growths and shapes jutting out from them, crisscrossing sets of lines connecting the wide trunks to each other. Distant silhouettes could be seen walking on the lines. 

Mew tapped the top of Aster’s head to get his attention, then pointed at the growths on the trees. “What are those?” they asked. 

Aster didn’t respond. As usual. 

Undeterred, Mew tapped his head again. “Hey, Aster. Hey. Hey. Hey!” 

“What?!”

“What are those things coming out of the trees?” 

The Treecko took a moment to find what they were pointing at. Testily, he said, “Those are houses.” 

“What are houses?” 

“Places Pokemon live in. You’ll usually find them in towns.” 

“Wooaaaah.” Mew giggled excitedly. “So is Mystery Jungle a house? I see loads of Pokemon living in that place!”

“No.”

“Is it a town?"

Aster started walking again, making his way across the wooden platform. “If you keep asking questions, we’ll never get to Lively Town.”

“What's so lively about—”

“You’re getting on my nerves.” 

“Is this the town you were gonna show me?”

“No.”

“When will we get to—”

“Shut up!”

And that was that. 

As the Treecko stepped across the huge wooden platform and past all the houses, Mew spotted all sorts of new things: wooden planks connected by ropes; outdoor booths that emitted the sizzling noises and salty odors from earlier; brand new colors they didn't know the name of; and most importantly, a few Pokemon they didn’t recognize. There weren’t many of the Pokemon, but one fact stood out: these Pokemon didn’t attack Mew on sight. In fact, they didn’t seem to pay any attention to them! 

“Hey, Aster!” Mew pointed at one of the Pokemon as they passed by. This one was big and burly, covered in black and white fur and wearing an ugly grimace. “These guys don’t wanna beat me up either!” 
The Pokemon they pointed at shot them a funny look, and Aster shushed Mew. To the Pokemon, he said, “Sorry about that. This one doesn’t really know, um, anything.” 

The Pokemon snorted, and Aster scurried away. “Keep your mouth shut,” he told Mew. 

“But why didn’t that Pokemon attack us?” Mew said. 

“Pokemon in towns don’t attack on sight. Now stop asking questions before you get us in trouble!” 

Mew rolled their eyes, then asked, “What about the Pokemon inside of Mystery Dungeons?”

“I don’t know! Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. You lived in a Mystery Dungeon, but you didn't attack me, so—” He stopped talking and came to a halt. “I just told you no questions.” 

“You did,” Mew said, a little smugly. “But you answered me anyways.”

The Treecko’s shoulders tensed up, and for a moment Mew thought they had made him really mad. But instead of exploding into a fit of rage, he only slumped over and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

The rest of their trip through the unfamiliar place passed without incident, save for the sheer volume of unfamiliar objects Mew saw. They didn't ask about the new things, though; it wouldn’t do to annoy Aster too much, or else he might take back his offer to take them to his home! As the Treecko made his way past the last house, Mew spotted yet another brand new thing: an absolutely massive body of water that crashed against the shore over and over again. The water gleamed and frothed and foamed beneath the sunlight, full of seemingly endless energy and stretching all the way to the horizon. 

“Before you ask,” Aster said, “that’s an ocean.” 

“Wow…” Mew lifted off from his head and flew down to the water. Tentatively, they reached out and poked the ocean as it pushed up the shore. It was cold. Very cold! “Woah!” They giggled and poked it several more times, sending little water droplets flying with each poke. 

The Treecko passed by and took their paw, pulling them along behind him. “Come on, Mew. I don't have all day.” 

“Aw, but I wasn't done playing with it!”

But he didn’t let go. Mew made a mental note to check out the ocean later while the two made their way to a set of wooden planks jutting out from the ground, towards another Pokemon that floated in the water. This one was blue and grey, with a gentle smile on their face and what looked like a…shell? That’s what Mew had overheard once in Mystery Jungle, that a round hard thing on a Pokemon's back was called a shell.

“How did your expedition go, Aster?” the Pokemon asked. 

“It was fine,” he said. To Mew, he continued, “This is Lapras. She’ll give us a ride across the ocean to my home.” 

“Hi, Lapras!” Mew said. “I’m Mew! Nice to meet you!” 

“It’s a pleasure—” Lapras’ eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Wait. You’re Mew? But I thought—I thought you vanished! Nobody’s seen you for thousands of years! And now you just…show up?!” 

Mew tilted their head, uncomprehending. “What do you mean?” 

“I said I’d find Mew,” Aster told Lapras, his expression unamused. “And I did.”

Lapras stared blankly at Mew, her mouth slightly open. 

“Can we…can we get going now?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “Right. Okay. Never mind. Back to business. I suppose you two will want a ride back to Lively Town?” 

“Yeah.” Aster reached into his bag and extracted two passes to show her. After that he hopped onto Lapras’ shell, then held out his paw towards Mew. “Grab on.” 

“What for? I can fly.”

He waved his paw vaguely. “Just…just grab hold.” 

Mew did so, and he pulled them onto the shell as well. Once they were on the shell they asked, “Why did you look so surprised, Lapras?” 

“Oh…it’s nothing important,” Lapras said. “It’s just been a while since anyone’s seen a Mew. I honestly didn't think I’d ever see one in my lifetime.” 

“So does that make me famous or something?” 

“I suppose it does,” she said. “Don’t you know? People have been searching for you for millennia. I expected you to be this wise and powerful god, but you seem like…a child.” 

Aster sighed and pointedly stared at the horizon. “Mew doesn't remember anything.”

“Oh, so they’re like you?” Lapras said. 

Mew turned to Aster, a wide grin glued to their face. “You don’t have any memories either?!” 

“No.” 

“Why not?”

He shook his head. “That’s none of your business. Now can we get going already?” 

“Getting impatient?” Lapras said with a chuckle. “Okay, you two. Get comfy, because this ride will take a while.” The shell rocked beneath Mew as she pushed off from the shore and began swimming, the saltwater sloshing beneath her. The further she swam the deeper the water got, to the point where Mew couldn’t see the bottom anymore. The Grass Continent slowly shrank over the next few minutes, and soon the houses and Pokemon were little more than tiny specks on the landmass. 

“So that place we were just in,” Mew said. “It had houses. That was a town, right?” 

Aster didn’t respond, but Lapras did. “Oh, yes,” she said. “That place is called Capim Town. It’s a coastal settlement on the Grass Continent.” 

“Wow…” Their curiosity satisfied for the time being, Mew stared down into the ocean. All sorts of colorful Pokemon swam beneath the surface, some big and some small. They were blue and green and red and yellow, swimming either in groups or independently, rising to the surface or falling into the dark depths. Their colors shimmered as the wavering sunlight pierced the water’s surface. Watching them swim was relaxing, the same way watching a river course through the jungle’s undergrowth was. Mew’s eyelids drooped lower and lower as they continued staring. “Cool…” 

They spent what felt like hours staring down at the water, taking note of all the Pokemon they saw. Eventually they looked up at Aster (who sat cross-legged with his arms folded) and asked, “Are we there yet?” 

He stared blankly at them. “We’ve been traveling for three minutes, Mew.”

“So…are we getting close?” 

“No.” 

“Oh.” 

They stared down at the water some more. They looked up at the Treecko.

“What about now?” 

Lapras turned to face them, an amused look on her face. “Mew, this trip will take a few hours at minimum, assuming we don’t run into any storms or large waves. I told you to get comfy, didn't I?”

“Um…how long is an hour?” 

“Sixty minutes,” she said. 

“How long is a minute?” 

“Sixty seconds,” she said. 

“How long is a second?” 

Lapras chuckled quietly. To Aster, she said, “You weren’t kidding when you said Mew doesn’t remember anything.” And to Mew: “Maybe you should try to get some sleep. You must be exhausted from that trek through Mystery Jungle.” 

“Not really! Aster carried me most of the way, so I’m not that tired!” Mew said, even though their arms felt heavy and their mind foggy. “But maybe…maybe I could rest my eyes for a minute.” 

“You do that,” Lapras said, then turned back to the waves before her. 

Despite their claim that they weren't tired, it took Mew a surprisingly small amount of time to fall asleep. Their eyes drooped, their feet ached, and their thoughts grew disheveled and increasingly harder to grasp. As they drifted away, they pondered the differences between seconds and minutes and hours. 

Someone shook Mew’s shoulders. “Wake up.”

“Mmngh?”

“Mew. Wake up. We’re almost there and I don’t want to have to carry you.” 

“Aw…”

The ground rocked beneath Mew as they opened their eyes and let out a big yawn, stretching their limbs out as far as they would go. As a gust of salty air blew by, they remembered they weren’t actually on the ground—rather, they were riding Lapras, who had agreed to carry them across the…ocean, was it? Whatever it was called, there was a lot of water all around them. Aster sat across from Mew on Lapras’ shell and stared blankly at the orange horizon while fiddling with the piece of cloth he wore around his neck. 

Mew pointed at the cloth. “What's that?” 

“A scarf.” 

Something about the scarf called to Mew. “Can I…can I see it?” 

“No.” 

“Oh, come on! Can I—” They reached for it, but Aster smacked their paw away. 
“I said no.” 

“Fine, then.” Mew huffed and folded their arms, the same way they saw him do. “Keep your stupid scarf.” 

But their bad mood didn’t last long: behind the Treecko, Mew spotted a massive landmass that was only growing larger, blocking out the pink and orange sunset. And on that landmass stood a town much like the one they had left earlier, only this town had houses growing out of the ground. 

“Ooh, I see it!” Mew shouted. They scurried to the front of the shell and pushed Aster aside to get a better view. “I see…land! Aster, is this where you’re from?!”

He didn’t respond, but Lapras chuckled and turned to smile at Mew. “Yes, this is the Water Continent. It’s your first time here, right?”

Mew nodded. 

“I think you’ll enjoy it. Lively Town, the biggest city on the continent, is right next to the docks. There’s a whole host of things to do and sights to see. You won't ever be bored there.” 

As they steadily approached the Water Continent, Mew’s impatience grew more and more severe to the point where, when they were reasonably close to the continent, Mew leaped off of Lapras’ shell and barreled face-first onto the shore. Their landing sent sand flying up into the air, attracting the stares of several Pokemon who were carrying crates to and from the docks. The Pokemon looked at Mew with concerned expressions, but they didn't start attacking. It seemed Aster was right—Pokemon inside towns weren’t as aggressive. Mew filed the fact away in their mental list of interesting things. 

Said list was only growing. The Water Continent boasted a completely different atmosphere: where the Mystery Jungle had heat, humidity, and the whispering of ferns in the wind, the Water Continent had a cool ocean breeze and hundreds of voices sounding off in the distance. And voices meant Pokemon, who were probably friendly. Mew’s heart beat faster as they rocketed up the rickety wooden stairs leading from the docks to a stone path that meandered up a grassy hill. 

When Mew finally reached the end of the path, they let out a little gasp at what they saw. They made their way underneath a stone arch to find dozens of structures in countless colors, most of which they had never seen before. Some were wood, others were stone, and they came in all shapes and sizes—big and small, rectangles and spheres. Loads of unfamiliar smells barraged Mew—food being prepared in a building with a label they couldn't read, a metallic stench coming from what looked like a gold and black tree trunk with a shadowed face that sent chills down their spine, and faintly sweet scents emanating from dozens of flowers growing in boxes scattered throughout. 

And the Pokemon! 

Mew had never seen so many in one place! They were all so different! Big and small, young and old, and more color variation than the plain blue ocean could ever hope to match. They were all talking, laughing, singing, playing, running, smiling, living. 

With an excited laugh, Mew soared forth to explore as much as they could. They flew through the crowds of Pokemon, sending them scrambling for cover as they darted between unfamiliar objects to take it all in. Lapras was right: they would never get bored here. Everything here was so bright and colorful, more alive than anything they had seen before. But they didn’t get far before finding a familiar face sitting forlornly in front of the food building from earlier. Aster met their eyes as they approached. “Are you finished freaking out? Can we go now?” he said. 

“Go where?” 

He pointed up the road to a massive, yellow and blue building that towered above the rest. “The Expedition Society. It's where I work. They’re the ones who sent me to find you, and I’m betting they’ll want to take a good look at you.” 

“Aww, but I wasn’t finished here!” Mew whined. “And you said you’d show me around!” 

“I’ll show you around the town later.” He motioned towards the bag he carried. “I need to unpack and report the results of my trip.” 

Mew groaned. “Five more minutes, please? Five minutes and then we can go, okay?”

“I really don’t—”

“Great, thanks! You're the best!” 
With that settled, Mew flew away to continue their sight-seeing, and after what felt like two minutes but Aster insisted was seven, they finally agreed to go and check out the Expedition Society. As they made their way up the stone road between the buildings that Aster called houses, they fell back into their routine of questioning, only this time it was far more intense due to the sheer amount of unrecognized objects. Mew’s list of interesting things grew larger and larger: booths, telescopes, clay pots, coffee, the color indigo, and the names of roughly forty different types of Pokemon that they spotted on the street. Mew had never felt happier. Lively Town was everything they had thought it would be. 

When they finally reached the Expedition Society headquarters, Mew took a moment to get a good look. The building’s width alone was equal to three ancient jungle trees stuck together, and Mew swore it was tall enough to reach the clouds. Absolutely incredible. Eventually Aster grew impatient at Mew’s marveling and pulled them through the front door, only to mutter something under his breath and storm deeper into the building when Mew marveled even harder at the interior. The place was somehow elegant and worn-down at the same time. Between the freshly painted walls and fancy rugs, they spotted used equipment and dirty footprints marring the floor, and muffled voices echoed throughout halls that were stained red by the sunset shining through the windows. Mew supposed it wouldn't hurt to take a good look around. The room broke into three paths: two hallways leading left and right, and stairs heading directly up. In Mew's experience with flying, vertical movement was far more interesting than horizontal, so they went ahead and floated up the stairs, ogling their surroundings. 

At the top of the stairs they found a room similar in shape to the one they had just left, only with a massive blue contraption in the center. It was made up of a huge blue sphere contained within a set of rings that were connected to a frame embedded in the floor. The sphere pulsed with a gentle light as Mew drew closer. It seemed so…familiar. But they had never seen it before, so why…? 

Their head spun and a piercing pain broke through their skull as countless voices talked at once. It was as though Mew were in the middle of an invisible crowd. The voices fell away, one by one, and—

And Mew remembered this machine was called a Nexus. A database designed to record the geography of the world. But…where did they learn that? 

“There you are,” Aster was saying behind them. “What did you run off for? Everyone wants to meet you.” He scoffed. “I reckon you’re already popular.”

Mew didn’t reply—they felt dizzy from the unexpected revelation. They could hear voices, real voices this time, from down the hall. Footsteps approached, and then Aster moved to stand beside them. 

“Are you gonna keep standing here? Everyone’s downstairs waiting for you,” he said. 

“…Right. Yeah.” Mew put on a smile, but it felt forced. “Quick question: this machine, is it called a Nexus?” 

“Yeah. Now come on, let's get moving.” 

Something about this Nexus brought out a longing from deep within, a longing for something they couldn’t recognize. A little voice in the back of their head said that this Nexus needed to be completed, the world needed to be documented. If this archive were to be finished, it would be a dream come true. 

Mew shook their head to clear it. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The Treecko led them down the stairs and into the room they had just left, where four unfamiliar Pokemon now stood waiting for them. One of them, a round orangeish Pokemon with a long, thin tail and big ears, held a weird blue device and was chattering frantically into it. The sun had set completely, leaving the building with naught but its pink and red afterglow. A set of lights embedded in the ceiling and walls activated all at once, illuminating the halls with a golden glow. Waves crashed and rolled in the distance, their sounds muffled by the stone walls. 

As the two approached the unfamiliar Pokemon, Aster gestured towards Mew. “Behold,” he told the group sarcastically. 

One of the Pokemon stepped forth; this one was yellow with black stripes and an orb embedded in his forehead. Curiosity wrote itself all over his face as he gazed at Mew. He said, “Aster, you said this one followed you home? You didn't…coerce them or do anything of the sort?” 

The Treecko shook his head. 

“Nice to meet you!” Mew said. “I’m Mew. What's your name?” 

Several of the Pokemon gasped and fell to muttering amongst themselves, but the one who had stepped forward only chuckled at himself. “Oh, where are my manners? My name is Ampharos. I’m the chief of the Expedition Society, which would be these wonderful Pokemon.” He gestured at the three Pokemon behind him. 

 “What’re those Pokemon called?” Mew asked Aster. When he didn’t reply, Mew repeated the question to Ampharos. 

“Ah, yes.” Ampharos pointed to each of them in turn, calling out their names: “Dedenne, Mawile, and Archen. Though we seem to be missing a few members…” 

“You did call an emergency meeting with no forewarning,” Dedenne said—she was the orange one with the blue device. “Bunnelby and Buizel are off-continent, Swirlix is busy stuffing her face, and Jirachi’s probably asleep in his observatory. Does anyone feel like waking him up?”

The Society members shook their heads in unison. 

“I see,” Ampharos said. “Then this amount will have to do. I know better than to interfere with Jirachi’s and Swirlix’s…important tasks.” He clapped his paws once with a business-like air. “At any rate, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mew.”

Before he could continue, another of the Pokemon—this one had a giant maw sticking out of the back of her head—approached and whispered something in his ear. He furrowed his brow, the orb on his head glowing faintly, and murmured, “You’re absolutely sure, Mawile?” 

Mawile nodded. 

“Hmm…very well, then.” Ampharos nodded with an air of resolution, then turned back to Mew and said, “How would you like to join the Expedition Society?” 

Aster gasped, then shook his head. “No, no. That wasn't the deal. You said to investigate reports of Mew’s reappearance. You never said they’d join us!” 

“I think this is Mew’s decision to make,” Ampharos told him. “Mew, what would you like? You could join us as an assistant for the time being and help us out on expeditions.”

Mew tilted their head. “Expeditions?” 

“Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t know what those are. Expeditions are helping Pokemon in need, retrieving lost or stolen items, documenting unknown areas, that sort of thing,” Ampharos said. 
“You make it sound a lot more boring than it actually is,” Archen said with a chuckle. “But I thought kids weren’t allowed to join the Expedition Society.” 

“Yes, I suppose I did make that rule,” Ampharos said. “But given the circumstances, it may be best to…ignore it, so to speak. We’ve already broken it twice, after all.” 

“You want me to join the Expedition Society…” Mew said, more to themself than anything. The idea had an odd allure about it. The more they thought about it, the more it appealed to them. Traveling the world, helping Pokemon, seeing brand new things every day—it seemed like the perfect way to satiate their curiosity. A grin spread across their face as they nodded. “Yeah! I think I’d like that!” 

“Excellent!” Ampharos’ eyes shone with satisfaction. “You can be Aster’s assistant for the time being. Everyone else either already has a partner or doesn’t need one, so—”

Aster cleared his throat, his eyes narrowed. “No way. Mew is not coming with me.”

“Why not?” Mew turned to him and put on their most winning smile. “It sounds fun! I’ll get to go to all kinds of places and meet all sorts of Pokemon and see things I’ve never seen before!”

“Those are all good points,” Ampharos said with a smile. He turned to Aster: “Besides, you do need a partner. No expeditioner worth their badge goes alone into a Mystery Dungeon, not unless they have a death wish. You tried going through the Sand Dune of Spirits on your own, and look how that turned out.” 

The Treecko folded his arms. “I’ll have you know I made it through just fine.”

“On the fifth attempt, yes.”

“But—”

“I don’t enjoy playing this card,” Ampharos said, a steely glint in his eyes, “but do remember that I am the chief of this Society, and that I have the authority to assign partners to those under my command if they lack one already.”

Aster’s eyes flashed, and for a moment it looked like he would refuse again. But before saying anything, he blew out a long breath through clenched teeth, then muttered, “Fine.” 

“Excellent!” Ampharos exclaimed, and the orb on his forehead suddenly shone as bright as the sun. Mew squinted and covered their eyes, blinking away the afterimage, and the Society members all groaned and complained. Ampharos looked a little abashed. “Oh. Oh, dear. Apologies. None of you are hurt, are you?”

 After fussing over Archen for several seconds, he turned back to Mew. “Well,” he said. “Welcome to the Expedition Society! Er…” 

“Dinner’s in half an hour,” Archen said, still rubbing his eyes. With that, he made his way past Mew and down the hall to the left. Dedenne and Mawile followed suit, making their way up the stairs to do whatever it was they were doing. Ampharos approached the two and laid a paw on Aster’s shoulder. The Treecko was staring at the floor, his expression unreadable. It seemed Ampharos wanted to say something to him, but he only patted his shoulder, then continued past and went upstairs as well, leaving Mew alone with Aster. 

“So!” Mew said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You promised to show me around the town, remember? I’d love to see what this place is like!”

He didn’t respond at first. Then, he sighed. “Okay,” he said. “Follow me.” 

The Treecko tried not to sleep anymore. Not because he wasn't tired—quite the opposite, he was exhausted beyond belief—but because every time he closed his eyes, the same horrors revisited him: the silent chill of the Voidlands; the slimy grasp of the shadows dragging him into the darkness; Nuzleaf, his features distorted into a mask of hatred, unleashing dark clouds that shrouded the sky; whole crowds of Pokemon petrified and helpless, their faces frozen in terror; Dark Matter dragging the planet ever closer to the sun, dooming the world to a fiery death. And Vallea, his partner, the one he held dearest, vanishing into a golden light as tears ran down her face. 

So on the night after Mew joined the Expedition Society, Aster chose to remain awake and alert in his bedroom. The nightmares couldn’t come if he didn't sleep. In an attempt to stay awake, he busied himself with taking inventory of the wands and orbs he carried, and reviewing the requests for help that came on the Expedition Gadget. But those distractions could only last for so long before becoming repetitive and pointless. Eventually Aster found himself doing the same thing he did every night: staring wistfully at the Harmony Scarf that Vallea had given him on the best day of his life. It lay on the desk, its threads worn and frayed, but its shades of blue and green were as bright as they had always been.

In the first few days after her disappearance, he lost track of how many times he turned and started talking, expecting to find her there. Each and every time he fell silent in the face of the emptiness that now stood where she once did. There was still so much left to tell her. The world was completely safe. Even weeks after Dark Matter’s disappearance, not a single sign of that abomination could be seen. The world map was progressing slowly, bit by bit, and everyone’s lives were returning to normal. 
Vallea would never know that. The world the Riolu had fought so hard to save—she would never get to explore it the way she’d wanted. 

Aster should have been the one to vanish. He’d only been in this world for a few months; he had less of a life to lose. Vallea, she’d had a father. A dream. A full life ahead of her. 

“Where are you now?” he asked the scarf. 

No response.

“You asked me for a favor, remember? You asked me not to cry. So I didn’t. Now you’re the one who owes me a favor,” he said with a hollow laugh. 

The Treecko looked across the room at Mew, who slept soundly curled up in her bed—no, in the spare bed. It wasn’t hers, not anymore. He had hoped to be rid of Mew by now, but for whatever reason Ampharos had the brilliant idea of letting them actually join the Expedition Society. And now he was stuck with this annoying kid for the foreseeable future. 

He blinked, and a terribly familiar Riolu slept in that bed. His heart leaped into his throat. 

After rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he looked again. Now Mew slept there, curled up with their long tail forming a crescent around their body, and it felt like he had lost her all over again. 

It wasn’t Mew’s fault, he knew that. They were just a lost kid with no memories, same as he had once been. But a small, insolent part of him still hated them for taking her place, for setting in motion the series of events that had led to her destruction. He had thought that if he could just find Mew, he would get her back. But what he found was nothing but…

The Treecko shook his head. How could he ever resent such an innocent child? 

“I’m losing it,” he muttered, and rounded on the scarf. “Every time I look at them I only see you.”

The scarf just lay there, a useless piece of cloth. 

“You owe me a favor, and I’m going to ask for it now.” 

Technically he had fulfilled her request: he hadn’t cried once in the last few weeks, though it hadn't been by choice. He simply couldn’t cry. Most nights he sat there, waiting for the tears to come and his heart to finally break, but all he found was a familiar empty feeling in his chest. It was like all that sadness was buried somewhere deep inside him in a place he couldn’t reach, and all he had left was a blank slate, vacant and desolate. What was wrong with him? She meant everything to him, but he couldn't even muster a few tears at her disappearance.

Maybe he didn't even have a heart to break. 

“I need you to come back,” he said in a measured voice. “I…I need—”

He couldn’t continue. She was gone. She was gone and nothing he did could change that, regardless of how many useless bargains he made. 

And without her, he was—

He was nothing.

The Treecko gently lifted the scarf and cradled it to his chest. 

“…I need you.”

Chapter Text

Mew's first day as an official Expedition Society member began with them waking up to an empty bedroom. For a moment they wondered where they were: the very idea of a room to sleep in was foreign to them, and they were far too used to waking up to the warm jungle breeze and the sun on their face. Instead, they woke up on a weird soft object—a bed, they remembered—and the air was stuffy with dust. As they looked around the room, they quizzed themself on the names of the objects they saw: a desk, several maps, a chest, the floor and ceiling, and a window. Mew pumped a fist—they got everything right!

The bed across the room was already empty. Seemed Aster was already out and about. A low rumble made itself known over the distant creaks of the building; for a second Mew wondered what that was, then it hit them: they were hungry. They rolled onto their back and smacked their lips, then floated into the air still lying on their back. Twisting so that their legs were below them was far too much effort for this early in the morning, so they maintained this position instead as they floated through the hall. Indigo shadows cloaked the hallway, and through the window Mew saw a deep orange glow beginning to pierce the dark grey clouds. All the doors lining the walls were shut, which meant the other Expedition Society members were still asleep.

Today would be a very exciting day: Mew was going to go with Aster on their first job! Their heart skipped a beat at the idea of being an Expedition Society member, though when they thought about it, they didn’t quite know why, exactly, they were so ecstatic at their new occupation. Maybe it was because they’d get to see all sorts of new places and meet loads of different Pokemon! Yeah, that made sense. It was a dream come true!

If they remembered correctly, the kitchen was on the opposite end of the building from the bedrooms. Mew had spent a good chunk of yesterday evening meeting the other Society members and getting to know the building they worked in. Bunnelby and Buizel were pretty friendly, though they also questioned why Ampharos would let “another kid” into the Society. Jirachi kept talking about how smart he was for keeping track of the sun’s position relative to the Earth, so Mew tuned him out after the fourth minute of his ramblings. As for Swirlix, she made the best food Mew had ever tasted in their entire life. Last night’s “dinner,” as everyone called it, had consisted of a full table’s worth of dishes that Mew didn’t even know the names of. 

And the best part? The kitchen and pantry were for the entire Society to use. That included Mew. 

They straightened out into the usual upright position—legs down, head up—as they floated into the kitchen, but it wasn’t empty like they had expected. Instead, Mawile sat at the end of the long table and nursed a steaming mug filled with a dark, bitter-smelling liquid. On the table before her sat a cracked stone tablet, an ink well and quill, and several papers with scribbles all over them. The door to the pantry on the other end of the kitchen was open; noises of chewing and smacking echoed from within. 

“Hi,” Mew said as they approached. 

Mawile looked up, her eyes sharp. “Oh,” she said. “Hi.” 

“Do you know how to make food?” 

“Not really.” Her gaze fell back to her papers. 

Mew sat down in the seat next to her and leaned back, the same way they’d seen Ampharos do last night. “So when will Swirlix make the food?” 

“You mean when will breakfast be?” she said in a gravelly voice.

“Is that what it's called? Breakfast?” 

“Yeah. The morning meal is called breakfast. As for when it’ll be… It shouldn’t take more than an hour. Swirlix is already in the kitchen getting ready. Maybe if you ask nicely, she’ll let you…” A yawn cut her off. She took a sip of her drink, then continued, “She’ll let you have a snack.” 

“Oh, sweet! Thanks!” Mew shot into the air and made for the kitchen, but Mawile grabbed hold of their tail before they could go anywhere. 

“Hold on a second,” she said, her tone suddenly business-like. “I got a few questions for you. I’ve been speaking with Celebi about your reappearance, and I’d like to verify a few things about your amnesia.” 

“Who’s Celebi?" 

“Another mythical, like you. Humor me.”

Tilting their head, Mew sat back down. “Um…okay. What kinds of questions?” 

Mawile held up one of her papers for Mew to see. “Can you read this?” 

The paper was covered in thin, jagged scribbles written in black ink. Mew squinted at the paper, then said, “No. Should I be able to?” 

“Probably not. What about this?” She lifted the stone tablet. Carved into it were sharp symbols made up of thick lines. 

“No…actually, wait.” Mew leaned in closer, squinting at the carvings. “Is that…a list? I see something about bread and milk and…a fruit.” 

Mawile quirked her brow. “This tablet is an ancient relic retrieved from ruins located on an island off the coast of the Grass Continent. And this”—she raised the paper—“is a page from my notes on that tablet. The tablet is written in ancient runes, a language that’s practically extinct today. It hasn’t been used in millenia. My notes, however, are written in the common language we use today.” 

Mawile said that last sentence with a sense of gravitas, as though it held a matter of great importance. Mew waited for her to continue, but she just sat there looking at Mew. Eventually they said, “Okay. And? Is this a big deal?” 

“The only other person who could read these inscriptions was…” She shook her head. “Never mind. It could be nothing. There’s no point jumping to early conclusions. I still need to verify a few claims, and then…” She trailed off, mumbling under her breath as she started scribbling down illegible notes. 

As Mew looked on, their stomach rumbled once more, reminding them of the reason they had gotten out of bed in the first place. The reading-related oddity fell out of their mind as they backed away towards the pantry, quietly so that she wouldn't notice. It was really easy to be sneaky when they didn’t make any footsteps. Besides, who cared about boring stuff like reading when there was a whole world waiting to be explored? Mew was more than happy to leave the writing and mumbling to other Pokemon, like Mawile. She was so engrossed in whatever was on that paper that she didn’t even realize they were leaving. 

Mew slipped into the pantry, where they found Swirlix munching away on a bowl of dried berries. When they asked for something to eat she threw a weird round thing (a muffin, she called it) at them. Then she shooed them out of the pantry and back into the dining room where Mawile still sat, writing away. Swirlix slammed the door shut behind Mew; after a few seconds, muffled chewing could be heard in the pantry once more. Mew took a bite of the muffin: it was dry and crunchy. They chewed thoughtfully, unsure if that was a good or bad thing, as they floated through the dining hall, past Mawile, and into the meeting room to begin their search for Aster. He was the one with the Gadget thingy that accepted requests for help, so they couldn’t really get to work without him. They looked all around the first floor, but couldn't find a single trace of him. Eventually they ran into Ampharos (who had somehow stumbled into a broom closet on his way to the meeting room). He told them that the Treecko was likely down at the beach, as he spent a lot of time there “these days”, though Mew wasn’t sure why he said those words so morosely. 

The town was waking up bit by bit as the sun rose slowly, imbuing the colorful roofs and cobble paths with a golden glow. The scents of ocean salt and sweet flowers filled the air, as did synchronized shouts and war cries—probably that weird punchy-kicky event that took place in the plaza. Pokemon strolled up and down the city streets on their way to wherever it was they were going, their gazes set straight ahead. Though the Expedition Society had reacted to Mew with astonishment, the pedestrians here were seemingly oblivious to who Mew was. They liked it that way: the attention that came with their nature as a mythical Pokemon made them feel a little uncomfortable, so it was nice just to blend into the crowds and finish their muffin in peace. 

Mew’s memory turned out to be quite reliable, as it only took them three tries to find the beach (they had expected it to take seven). They made their way past the docks, where big, strong Pokemon were loading cargo onto some Lapras and other swimming Pokemon, and eventually found a familiar Treecko sitting slouched on the sand and staring emptily into space, his satchel lying next to him. 

“Hi, Aster!” they called out as they approached. 

He turned blearily towards the sound of their voice, then slumped even further when he spotted them. “Oh. It’s you.” 

“You ready to take on a job? I am! C’mon, let’s get started!” They plopped down next to him and reached into his satchel for the Gadget, only for him to smack their paw away. He pulled out the Expedition Gadget himself and fitted in the Connection Orb with an air of resignation, and began flipping through requests, murmuring under his breath. 

“Treasure hunting in the Path of Fallen Leaves…” 

“Oh, that sounds exciting!” Mew exclaimed, but he took no notice. 

“Item retrieval down in the Valley of Strong Winds…”

“Strong Winds? What makes those winds strong?” they asked. 

“Outlaw hiding at the Frozen Falls…” 

‘Ooh, that one! Can we do that one?“

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and blew out a long breath. “No.” 

Mew groaned. “Why not?!”

“This is literally your first job, Mew. If I bring you along to a dangerous place and something happens…” He shuddered, his eyes suddenly haunted. He shook his head, then continued, “If something happens to you, the Chief will kill me.” 

“Will he actually?" 

“…Yep,” he said deadpan, his eyes empty again.

“Wow. Looks like I misjudged him.” 

“You seriously believed… You know what? Never mind.” The Treecko turned back to the Gadget, tapped on its screen a few times, and nodded to himself. “Here we go. A little Cleffa got lost, and her mother thinks she’s in the odd field.” 

“In the what?"

“Odd Field. It’s a Mystery Dungeon.”

Mew frowned at the mundane name. “Odd Field? That sounds kinda boring. Isn’t there anything more exciting we can do?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” they asked, but he had already stood up. He shoved the gadget into his bag and made for the docks. Mew followed along as he stepped through the sand dunes, past the workers, and up the hill towards Lively Town. 

“Where are we going?” they asked. 

“To pack.” 

“What’re we gonna pack?” 

“You’ll see,” he said. 

“What will—”

“No more questions.”

As it turned out, they were going to pack quite a few things. Back at the Expedition Society Headquarters, Aster threw open a chest in the corner of their room and started digging through its contents. The Treecko extracted items one by one: a gnarled stick similar to the one he had used in Mystery Jungle, blue berries and yellow berries (both smelling sickly sweet), and several translucent orbs he was careful not to drop. Nearly every item he extracted from the chest was unfamiliar to them; with every little thing he placed into his bag, another question popped into Mew's mind. The questions pressed against the walls of their skull and built up beneath their tongue until they simply could not contain them any longer. 

“So I know you said not to ask questions,” they said, “but I was wondering—what was all that stuff you pulled out of that box?” 

“Expedition equipment. It’ll help keep us safe.” He didn't elaborate further, and Mew didn’t ask him to. With any luck, the function of the equipment would become clear over the course of their journey. They already knew the twisted, misshapen sticks were designed to shoot out gusts of wind, so they would figure out the berries and orbs soon. After placing the items in the bag, Aster sat for a moment and stared into space. He facepalmed. “Food. We need food.” 

He stood up and walked out of the room, through the hallway, and out into the morning air again. Mew followed, asking, “What kind of food do you usually get for these expeditions?” 

“The edible kind,” he said without stopping. 

“Okay…but what kind? Is it similar to the dishes Swirlix makes?” 

He sighed and started walking faster. Yesterday Mew had thought he was just cranky because he didn’t get enough sleep or something. But he was treating them the same way today, which meant this was just the kind of person he was: withdrawn, distant, cold. 

“You need to lighten up, you know that?” they said, speeding up their flight to match his pace. 

That drew out an mirthless chuckle from him. “Maybe I do.” 

As they made their way down the cobble streets, the sounds of hundreds of voices grew louder and louder, and the density of Pokemon on the streets grew rapidly. Lively Town had woken up completely in the few minutes they had spent in the Society headquarters getting equipment. Now the road was stuffed to the brim with Pokemon jostling and bumping into each other. Mew hadn’t known there were this many Pokemon on the whole continent, never mind in a single town. Where did they all live and sleep? Mew made a note to ask Aster about that later. 

Eventually they reached the central plaza and approached one of the booths. After exchanging a few words with the Pokemon manning it (a green and yellow one with a curled-up tail), Aster handed off some little golden circles and received a couple cloth pouches presumably containing food. He dropped the pouches into his bag and set off for the town gate, slipping through the chattering crowds with ease. Mew tried to follow him at first, but the sheer number of Pokemon that kept blocking their path eventually forced them to take to the air and fly over the crowd entirely. They reunited with the Treecko down at the town gate. 

“So how long will it take to reach Odd Field?” they asked over the din of voices. Past the gate was a stone bridge that crossed over a burbling river, and beyond that stood vast green meadows dotted with houses and fields covered in strange plants the likes of which they had never seen before. “Actually, scratch that—what are those plants growing near the houses over there?” 

“The trip there will take a bit less than half a day,” Aster said. 

“And the plants?” 

He didn’t reply. 

“Come on, Aster, don’t do this!” They moved in front of him to get his attention. “I gotta know!” 

His shoulders slumped as he finally met their eyes. “Those plants are…ugh, I don’t know, Mew. We have a job to do. I can't keep stopping and answering every single question you have. Now let’s move.” He strode forward and pushed them out of the way. With a little sigh, they followed him through the gate and across the bridge. After a minute they came across a winding path that twisted and turned through the hills and fields. Some of the plants in the fields were turning yellow now; these ones were made up of tall, thin stalks with tiny seeds sticking out of the tips. Mew ogled the plants as the two followed the path, while the sun rose into the sky and the day grew brighter. As they traveled, a single dark cloud approached from beyond the horizon. Then another. And another. Soon the entire sky was covered in them. 

Then came the first drop of water. In the time it took Mew to process the fact that water had just fallen from the sky, several more drops had fallen. Now the water began to fall in earnest, thousands of drops all plummeting from the clouds. 

“Hey, Aster?” they asked. 

“What?” 

“I’ve seen this stuff in the jungle before. What’s the name for this water falling on us?” 

“It’s rain, Mew,” he muttered, looking positively miserable. “It's rain.”

Though Aster seemed to hate the rain with a passion, Mew thought it was quite exciting! As they traveled, Mew spent a good few hours seeing how many water droplets they could dodge. They bobbed and weaved through the drops, zipping this way and that, giggling as their fur steadily became soaked—it was impossible to dodge everything, of course, but simply trying to was exciting enough. On and on they went, through environments the likes of which they had never seen. Steep mountain ranges whose peaks were covered in snow, golden fields of wild plants (that were apparently called grains), and a wide wooden bridge leading across a frothing river. The rain eventually stopped and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds; by the time it did it was already midday, and Mew was hungry again. 

“Can we stop for a bit?” they said, shaking the water out of their fur. “I think it’s, uh… What did Swirlix call it? I think it’s time for lunch.”

To their surprise, Aster nodded. They found a nice wooden stump on the side of the road and sat down next to it. (Or rather, Aster sat down. The ground was thoroughly wet, cold, and muddy, so Mew opted to remain floating.) Aster pulled out the food pouches and passed one to Mew; inside, they found a bunch of little brown things and that sweet red object he had given them in Mystery Jungle. 

“Check it out!” Mew lifted the red thing and showed it to him. “I got a, uh…”

“An apple,” he said. He had taken out his apple, but didn’t make any move to eat it. Instead, he just stared blankly at it. 

“You gonna eat that?” they asked. 

He sniffed and fiddled with his scarf. “I don’t know.” 

“If you don’t, can I have it?” 

He didn't respond. Mew decided to take that as a no. They took a bite out of their apple, and it was just as sweet as they remembered it being. They polished it off in a matter of seconds, and then moved on to the little brown things. They lifted one and asked, “What’s this thing?” 

Predictably, he didn’t answer. 

Instead of asking again, they said, “Why are you so quiet all the time?” 

That got the Treecko’s attention. He looked up, thought for a moment, and shrugged. “Talking is exhausting.” 

“Really? Huh.” They had never thought talking could be tiring. Another question came to mind: “Oh, I’ve been wondering—how come Ampharos said you’re the only one who doesn’t have a partner? Is it because you don't like talking, or—”

“That’s none of your business,” he snapped, shooting them a scowl. 

“Okay, okay,” they said, raising their paws in a placating gesture. “Sheesh.” 

The next few seconds passed in silence as Aster glared at the grass. Mew busied themself eating the little brown things for a time; they were oddly bitter and savory, nothing like the apple. And each of them wasn’t good for any more than a single bite. Eventually, the Treecko spoke again: “Nuts.” 

“What?”

“Those things you’re eating,” he said, tugging on his scarf. “They’re called nuts.” 

“Huh. And those plants we saw earlier?" 

“The golden ones are called wheat. The other ones are probably vegetables of some kind.” 

“Vegetables?" 

He turned to them, his expression unreadable. “How much do you remember from your past, again?” 

“Nothing at all.” 

After blowing out a long breath, he rubbed his scarf. “So this is what it feels like on the other side. At least you learn quickly.”

Mew beamed and stuck out their chest. “Darn right, I do!" 

He lowered his paw and met their gaze. He was frowning for some reason. “When we reach the Mystery Dungeon, stick on me like a bad stain.” 

“Like a what?"

“Just stay close. I don’t want anything happening to you,” he said.

“Because of what the chief will do to you?”

“Because I don’t want to be the guy who let a stupid kid”—he placed special emphasis on that word—“get hurt on their first job.”

“Like you’re not a kid."

“I’m older than you. What I say goes.” 

The rest of their lunch passed in a more amiable quiet. Once they were finished they continued their march; by now they had reached an open plain with boulders and tall yellow flowers scattered throughout. The grass here was thin and sparse, closer to a pale yellow than green. The field reached out for miles, stretching all the way to a dark, moody mountain range on the horizon. Aster suddenly came to a halt. He threw his arm out to stop Mew. 

“Can you feel it?” he said. “We take one more step, and we’ll be in a Mystery Dungeon.” 

“Really?” They concentrated, trying to feel whatever he was talking about. “I don’t feel anything.” 

“You will.” He walked forward gingerly, one slow step at a time, before coming to a halt. “Yep,” he said. “Here it—”

Mew blinked, and he vanished. 

They rubbed their eyes and looked again. He wasn’t there! In his place stood what looked like the exact same plain they’d previously been approaching, but it was…different, somehow. Then they realized: the boulders and flowers were arranged in a different manner than they had previously been. A memory came to mind—Mystery Jungle, and how they had gotten lost in it more times than they could count. Something was wrong with these Mystery Dungeons, though they didn't know what. The land itself had changed, and the bright, sunlit field now held a strangely menacing aura. 

“Aster?” they called out. 

No response. This time it wasn't because he was being a jerk; he physically wasn't there to respond. Their heart beat a little faster—this was a little frightening, sure, but also fascinating. They floated a little closer to the spot where he had vanished and extended their paw forwards past the invisible line where the Mystery Dungeon started. 

They waited a few seconds. 

Nothing happened. 

“Huh,” Mew muttered. They floated further and entered Odd Field completely. Nothing seemed to change, but when they turned around the path was no longer there. As a matter of fact, it was nowhere in sight. There were only wild fields dotted with scrubby bushes and shrubs, the occasional cluster of rocks scattered here and there. Over the span of a single second Mew had somehow traveled into complete wilderness: not a single sign of civilization was in sight, neither paths nor bridges nor houses. Curiosity, ever familiar, made itself known in the grin that spread across their face. As an official Expedition Society member, they had two jobs: help those who needed it, and document the world. Time for some documenting. 

“Right then,” they said to nobody in particular. After a few seconds, they took out an imaginary pencil and paper and pretended to write notes the same way they saw Mawile do. “Expedition…uh, log? I think that’s what they call it. Expedition log, entry one: my partner has vanished. No idea where he’s gone. Cool, right? Uh, anyways, I still have a job to do! Gotta find that Cleffa! But…where could she be?” 

Mew turned this way and that, debating which direction to go first, then chose one at random and floated forth confidently. “Cleffa?” they called out. “Cleffa, where are you?” 

But there wasn’t a single Pokemon in sight, friendly or otherwise. Mew scanned the shrubbery and grass for any signs of life; the grass only grew taller the further they went, so they elevated a few meters above the ground to try and get a better vantage point. They continued calling Cleffa’s name to no avail—no matter how loud they shouted, no response came. 

Until a thin, nasal voice shouted in return: “Quiet down, will you?!” 

Mew’s ears pricked up. They strained their eyes looking through the field, until they eventually spotted the Pokemon who had spoken peeking out from beneath a bush. This one had a round, green body, two beady eyes, and six legs. Curious; they had never seen a Pokemon like this before. 

“What're you shouting about, anyways?” the Pokemon said. “Some of us are trying to look for something, you know, and your screaming is really distracting.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Mew said. “What are you looking for?” 

“Oh, just a necklace. It's an old family heirloom. What about you?”

“I’m looking for a Pokemon. Have you seen a Cleffa?” 

“Cleffa?” Her mandibles clicked as she thought. “No, don't think so. What’s she look like?” 

“She—” They cut themself off. They had no idea what Cleffa looked like. “I…don’t actually know.” 

“Well, I’ve never heard of any Cleffa around these parts. But I know that there’s a commotion going on right now near the Yago trees. Might be worth checking there.”

“Where are the Yago trees?” 

“Who knows where anything is in this place?” she said with a chuckle. “Look for trees with green and white berries. But be careful—those trees tend to be jealously guarded around this time of year. Those berries are just about ripe, so everybody’s fighting over them.” 

“Huh.” Mew thought for a moment. “Wait, trees? I haven't seen any trees in this place.” Mew turned and scanned their surroundings for any sort of tree; predictably, nothing of the sort could be seen. “See?” they said, turning back to face the Pokemon. “No—”

But the Pokemon was gone, as was the bush she had been hiding beneath. 

“Interesting…” Unsurprised, Mew began to write on their imaginary paper once more. “Expedition log, entry two: another Pokemon vanished when I turned around. I’m thinking maybe I should just keep turning around in circles until I find Cleffa. After all, the land around me changes whenever I’m not looking, so if I keep turning around I’ll find her eventually, right?” 

The plan had seemed stupid in their head, but it seemed stupider when they said it out loud. But it was between that or wandering aimlessly through the overgrown fields, same way they used to wander through Mystery Jungle. They debated for a minute, then decided on the second option. Wandering around had led them to that many-legged Pokemon, after all, so maybe they would find someone else eventually. Off they went. 

Soon another voice rang out in the distance, this one higher pitched and shrill. Mew blinked, and suddenly the grass thinned out to reveal a grove of tall, thin trees in the distance. Each tree was nothing more than a gangly, pale trunk that broke off into a few branches at the top. The trees’ leaves were sparse, though each had a couple of green and white berries—no, Yago berries hanging off of the branches. Three blue and purple winged Pokemon were flying above the trees’ canopies and darting down occasionally to bite and scratch at a tiny pink Pokemon cowering near the tree’s roots. Quiet weeping could be heard beneath the flying Pokemon’s piercing cries and clicks. The little one needed help! 

“Hey!” Mew shouted, and zoomed towards the trees. “Leave that Pokemon alone!” 

As they flew above the grass, the wind shrieking in their ears, another of the blue and purple Pokemon dove down to attack once more. Mew wouldn't reach them in time, but they couldn't just sit there and let it attack uninhibited. 

A curious power flowed from their mind through their arms. Their paw reached out at the Pokemon as it dove towards the little one, and all of a sudden the Pokemon froze in midair. Mew flicked their paw upwards, and an invisible force flung the Pokemon back into the air, spinning wildly. Wings flapping, it righted itself and let loose a piercing clicking noise at Mew, but by the time it did so they had already scooped the pink Pokemon into their arms. Just like that, Mew’s first official rescue was already in progress! With an exhilarated laugh, they picked a random direction and started flying as fast as they could, clutching the little one to their chest. 

“Hi, I’m Mew!” they said cheerily, putting on their best smile. “What's your name?” 

“Um…” The little one stared blankly, face wet with tears. She seemed lost for words at her unexpected rescuer. Her voice trembling, she stuttered, “Mama said not to t-talk to strangers.” 

“What's a stranger?” Mew turned to see if the other Pokemon were giving chase. They were. “Actually, never mind! Introductions later!” 

Whatever magic Mew had just done, it had thoroughly upset the flying Pokemon. All three of them were going after Mew and the little one now, letting loose a din of screeches and booming clicks and clacks. Mew flew faster and faster, the wind blowing into their eyes and grass bending in their wake, but they couldn't shake them no matter how hard they tried. For the first time, Mew felt nervous. One of them dove down after Mew and went for a bite. Mew only barely dodged, rolling to one side and righting themself. Up close they realized the Pokemon had no eyes and huge fangs. Woah. 

A distorted cry rent the air. Mew noticed the sickly yellow rings of energy careening towards them far too late, and suddenly their mind fell to pieces. They fell to the ground, their head spinning and their stomach churning. The little one fell from their arms with a squeak. Their vision went blurry and unfocused; the flying Pokemon now were naught but blurred shadows against a blue sky. Whatever they were about to do, Mew was helpless to stop it. Did Mew really just mess up their first rescue mission? They couldn’t believe it. Behind the confusion obscuring their thoughts, something like fear made itself known in the thumping of their heart. The three dove once more in unison. Mew reached out and tried to do the trick from before. It didn’t work. 

An unnatural gust of wind blew through the grass and into the sky, followed by a shrill shout: “Get away from them!”  The wind slammed into the closest Pokemon. Its wings went limp as it fell to the ground. A pair of spheres of bright green energy followed the wind and exploded against the other two, sending them down as well. A familiar Treecko came into view, clutching a wand in his paws. 

“There you are!” Aster shouted, his eyes wild with panic. After taking a good look at their face, he reached into his bag, pulled out a bright pink object, and shoved it roughly into their mouth. “Eat this. It’ll help.” 

Mew obliged. The berry was bitter and hard, but soon their thoughts cleared once more, and they could stand up and float into the air again. Aster was talking to the little pink Pokemon, who had curled up and was shivering. “Come on, Cleffa,” he said roughly. “We gotta move. We gotta get out of here.” 

“Wait,” Mew said. “That’s Cleffa?” 

“Yeah,” he told them, then turned back to Cleffa, who was making a weird noise. His eyes widened even more to the point where they resembled yellow dinner plates. “N-no, no, don’t cry. Don't cry. You’re okay—hey, hey, you’re fine, right?”

“Oh, wow!” Mew grinned ear to ear. “So I found Cleffa all by myself! My first rescue was a success after all! You know, for a second there it looked like I messed things up, but I guess I had nothing to worry about!” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he said without looking at them. “Hey, Cleffa, your mother asked us to come find you. Would you like to go to her?” 

For the first time, Cleffa looked up. “You can take me to my mama?” 

Cleffa’s mother turned out to be a very stout, very pink Pokemon who was called Clefable. She lived on the outskirts of a little settlement that consisted of a few houses dotted near a grim mountain tall enough to block the setting sun. As Aster and Mew approached the settlement, Aster carrying Cleffa, Clefable burst out of her house with a cry of, “My baby!” Her little wings seemed far too small to fly with, but she literally flew towards them, snatched Cleffa out of his arms, and hugged her child to her chest. 

“Thank you, thank you!” she shouted, touching down before them. Then, to Cleffa (who was positively beaming): “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe! She’s been missing for days now, you see, so I was so worried!” 

“It was no trouble for professionals like us!” Mew proclaimed, sticking their chest out. “Why, the Odd Field was nothing! I bet we could’ve saved your kid from a really tough place, like the Frozen Falls!” 

“You can hint at it all you want,” Aster said, “but I still won’t take you anywhere too dangerous.” He wasn’t exactly smiling at the sight before him, but he definitely looked a bit more content than he usually did. 

“Aw…”

“At any rate, I’m glad everything turned out okay,” he said to Clefable. “If that’s all, we’ll be going now—”

“No, no! Wait just a moment!” Clefable moved as if to reach into a bag (which she didn't have), frowned in confusion, and then rushed off towards her house. She emerged carrying a lumpy sack that was at least as tall as she was. “I insist you take these.” 

“Um,” Aster started, but she had already dumped the sack into his arms. He looked inside. “Huh. What do you know? Yago berries.” 

“They’re my favorite!” Cleffa chimed in. 

He started saying, “You know we take payment in actual money,” and Clefable said something back, but Mew had already stopped paying attention. They took a berry from the sack and had a bite. It was surprisingly sour and squishy; they swallowed with great difficulty, then discreetly put the bitten berry back in while no one was looking. 

The Treecko tried to give the sack back, but Clefable waved him away and said, “That beats money any day! It's the least I can do for rescuing my little girl.” 
She hugged Cleffa to her chest, laughing in relief, and something very strange happened. For a moment, Mew wasn't floating in the shadows of a mountain range. Instead, they stood—stood, not floated—atop a green, flower-covered hill with a massive tree towering above them.

Clefable and Cleffa weren't there either; instead, they saw a pair of green plant-like Pokemon, a mother and child. The mother was hugging the child the same way as Clefable. Warm pride suffused through Mew's chest, but it felt unearned, like being congratulated for an accomplishment that wasn’t theirs. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll take the berries. Please stop shouting,” Aster said, and the image vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Suddenly Mew felt a bit woozy, as though they needed to lie down for a while. They shook their head trying to clear it. 

“Come on, Mew,” he said, hoisting the sack of berries over his shoulder and taking their paw. “Let's go.” 

“Thanks again!” Clefable shouted as the two made their way towards the road. 

At first Mew floated limply, their mind foggy and clouded, and Aster had to pull them along behind him like a balloon. Eventually they managed to pull themself together and hover alongside him. They tugged their paw out from his grip, and said, “The weirdest thing just happened.” 

“What?” 

“I…saw something. A hill, I think, and a mother with her child.” 

He scoffed, adjusting the sack on his shoulder. “Yeah, those were Clefable and Cleffa.” 

“No, no. A-a different mother and child. They were…I think they were green.” 

“Hm.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Maybe your memories are coming back.” 

“Maybe,” they said, though they weren’t sure. 

“What else did you see?” 

“I’m not sure. A hill, I think. Maybe houses too.”

“A hill?” He furrowed his brow, adjusting the sack and bag on his shoulders. “What kind of hill was it?” 

“I don’t know. It was all so blurry, and I couldn’t make very much out.”

They traveled in silence after that. Through the golden fields, across the wild river, and up the stony hills they went. The sun was setting now as they followed the path along a slippery mountainside; on one side stood the massive, dark mountain, and on the other side was a lush valley filled with greenery. The wind was cold and biting and the air smelled of smoke, probably the result of fire types keeping themselves warm up here. The night sky decorated itself with little twinkling stars shining in the indigo and crimson emptiness. Soon the unfamiliar memory vanished from Mew’s mind, and pride—real pride this time—expressed itself in the way they raised their chin and floated a few inches higher. 

“You know, I’m proud of myself!” Mew said as they traveled. “For a few seconds there it seemed like I messed up my first rescue, but it looks like I did fine, right?” 

Aster shrugged. “I guess.” 

“Come on, you guess? I found Cleffa all by myself! Sure, you might've helped a bit, but I’m the one who swooped in and rescued her from a bunch of flying Pokemon!” 

“Zubats.”

“Huh?”

“The flying Pokemon,” the Treecko said, turning to face them. He looked less crabby than usual. “They’re called Zubats. They love berries, so I guess it makes sense that they attacked anyone who came near the berry trees—they don't want anyone stealing their lunch.” 

“Do you think that’s why Cleffa went into the Odd Field in the first place? To get some of those berries?” 

He shrugged again. “Doubtful. Maybe she just got lost.” 

A few more minutes passed without either of them saying anything. While the Treecko slogged forward, struggling to carry two bags at once, Mew floated lightly and stared up at the stars. They were all so bright and twinkly. Mew wondered what they were made of; maybe if they flew high enough, they would manage to touch one and see what it was like. They fell into a daydream in which they soared through the night sky and little white stars followed them around in a glittering cloud. 

Aster broke the silence, his voice bringing them back to reality. “You didn’t stay close.”

“What?” It took them a few seconds to remember the request he’d previously made. “That’s not my fault! You’re the one who went in alone.”

“Yeah, I—” He shook his head. “I know. This is coming out all wrong. I’m not good with…this.”

“With what?" 

He opened his mouth, closed it. Several steps were taken in silence. After chewing on the inside of his cheek, he eventually said, “I’m glad you’re okay. I was…worried.”

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

Mew hadn’t meant to come off as mean, but Aster visibly slumped even further at their words. “It’s not that I hate you," he said. 

“So…do you like me?”

He didn’t respond. 

A smirk crossed their face. “Ah…I get what you’re saying. You really do like me! I’m gonna tell the whole Society about this!” 

“Wha—” His eyes widened. “Don’t you dare!"

“Watch me! I’m gonna stroll right into the Expedition Society headquarters and shout it out for everyone to hear!” They zoomed forth at top speed, silently daring him to catch them. “And you can’t stop me!” 

“Mew, I swear—hey, wait up!” The Treecko tried to give chase, but the combination of the satchel and sack of berries weighed him down to the point where he could barely muster a slightly hurried walk. “Mew! Wait!” 

They didn’t wait. They flew even faster—partly because it was funny to watch him struggle to keep up, but also because they were more than a little excited at his confession, however awkwardly worded it was. Maybe they really could become friends after all. Their exhilarated laughter echoed throughout the mountains and valleys. Over the course of a single day, Mew had made their first successful rescue, seen about five new things, and discovered that their new partner could, in fact, be mildly nice sometimes. 
If every day was going to be like this one, then Mew would be a very happy Pokemon. 

Mawile had spent the entire day and half of the night sitting in the dining hall writing away, only getting up once to retrieve a historical text from her study. Dark Matter’s first attack had happened millennia ago, so there wasn’t very much documentation about it; what little information she had was engraved in ancient stone tablets written in a language she could only barely decipher. There was another source in Celebi, who could time travel and view events in the past and future, but tracking her down was a several week ordeal that Mawile wasn’t eager to repeat. And Aster, the only person who had been involved with the first attack (if only technically), was near-impossible to get anything out of. Any questions she asked him were met with either silence or a shrug, and she eventually gave up on learning anything useful from him. 

However difficult it was to learn about the past, the things she did learn were very, very interesting. First of all, the heroes who had stopped Dark Matter millennia ago—an ancient Mew and a human called Aster—had actually failed to destroy it permanently, and they’d chosen to reincarnate themselves in the future to stop that monster when it reappeared. Secondly, the Harmony Scarves they’d worn had powers beyond mortal comprehension, the kind that harnessed life itself. Finally, the plan had always been for the reincarnation of Mew to disappear, and for Mew to reappear like nothing had happened. 

The reincarnation, Vallea, had vanished. And Mew had reappeared, so that part was true enough. But nothing Mawile found made any mention of Mew having amnesia. 

Mawile sighed and rubbed her tired eyes, the maw on the back of her head chomping idly. Her stomach grumbled, but it was weaker now than it had been earlier today. Before her lay a sprawl of papers, notes, books, and stone engravings that took up most of the table. The sun had set long ago and dinner had come and gone; now the only light she had to see by was a lone candle Swirlix had given her. It emitted a deep yellow glow that wasn’t much better than darkness; reading in these conditions was probably bad for her eyes. She sighed, stood up, and exited the dining hall, taking a stone engraving with her. 

As she stepped through the halls of the Society headquarters, the question of Mew’s amnesia lurked on the edge of her thoughts. They knew nothing, except for when they did. And whenever they did, it just happened to coincide with knowledge that Vallea would’ve had. Mawile knew it could be nothing but a coincidence, but the things Mew did know—the Nexus’s purpose and how to read ancient writings—had been significant knowledge in Vallea’s mind that had helped save the world. 

Mawile reached her destination—the chief's office—and gave the wooden door a single knock. A crash could be heard from within, followed by Ampharos calling out, “Come in!” Mawile entered to find him sprawled out on the rug, surrounded by paperwork that had previously been on his desk. It was likely that the knocking had startled him enough to send him flying. She rolled her eyes and moved to help him up; his clumsiness and penchant for causing messes had once been annoying to her, but now she regarded them with something akin to fondness. 
Once Ampharos was on his feet and only tottering slightly, he asked, “So what brings you here?” 

“This.” She raised the stone tablet for him to look at. “Can you read it?” 

“Of course not. Vallea was the only one who could. Fluently, I mean,” he added, looking a little embarrassed. 

“I can read this about as well as a hatchling, so don’t feel bad,” she said with a chuckle. “But here’s the thing: Mew can read it. They can’t read anything written in the common tongue, but they can read writings from thousands of years ago.” 

“I see the significance.” Ampharos pressed a paw to his chin, brow furrowed. “It seems Xatu’s right about this.” 

“The first part of his prophecy came true,” Mawile said. “Mew joined the Expedition Society, and we see traces of Vallea in them.” 

“Now we just need to get the rest done,” Ampharos replied. He didn’t sit down so much as fall into his chair. “How on earth do we get the Harmony Scarves to activate?”

“I’ve been giving that some thought. Vallea told me that every time she was in serious danger, the scarves would give her their power. First time was on Fire Island Volcano, when Entei attacked. Second time was when you all faced Nuzleaf and Yveltal. And then there was the third time, where she boarded the Tree of Life to stop Dark Matter.” 

“So the scarves serve to protect the children,” Ampharos said. 

“Exactly. If we can somehow recreate the conditions needed to activate them—such as by simulating a dangerous situation—then maybe they could bring Vallea back.” 

“But one of the scarves is lost. Aster says it vanished when she did,” he said, frowning.

“Only one is lost,” Mawile reminded him. “We still have one left to work with.” 

“Then…you’re saying we need to create a faux-life-or-death situation to trick the boy.” 

“Maybe,” Mawile said, though another idea brewed in her mind. She chewed on her words, trying to think of the best way to put it. “It’s possible that putting Aster in danger isn't the right idea here. Look at how he’s been acting the last few weeks. He’s barely been functional after losing Vallea.”  

Ampharos leaned forwards, quirking his brow. “Mawile, what are you—”

“Hear me out. I think he fears losing people he cares about more than he does personal harm. What if we put Mew in danger, make it seem like we’re going to kill them? Maybe Aster will get frightened enough for the scarf to activate.” 

“So…your idea hinges on tricking a boy into thinking he’s about to lose another partner.” Ampharos said it conversationally, but disapproval lurked behind his eyes. “That’s…I don’t know what to say.” 

“If it brings back Vallea, it’ll all be worth it.” 

“If. And if this idea fails, we’ll have terrified a boy for nothing.”

“We’ve taken worse risks before,” Mawile said. Memories of the Voidlands flashed through her mind, memories of a hopeless abyss and a flickering light. “Besides, it adds up with what Xatu told us. Bring Mew to the Society, don’t tell them about their past, and exploit the scarves to bring Vallea back.” 

“But…”

The maw on the back of her head snapped idly as she waited for him to continue. “Do you have any other ideas?” 

He sighed. “No, I’m afraid not.” 

“Then I don’t see any other option.” 

Ampharos shook his head despondently. “Very well, then. But if this fails we’ll have quite the explanation to give.” 

“We’ll need to explain it either way,” Mawile said, already making for the door. “But I think trying to bring her back is better than doing nothing at all.” 

“That’s true. They…” Ampharos leaned back in his chair and rubbed the orb on his forehead. After an exhausted sigh, he said, “They deserve a happy ending.”

Chapter Text

As soon as Mew returned to the Expedition Society headquarters, they told anyone who would listen about what Aster had said regarding him caring about them. Most of them didn't really care, much to their chagrin, though Ampharos and Mawile did seem quite pleased at the news, and they told Mew to keep doing whatever it was they were doing. 

The next several days passed in a comfortable routine. Mew would awake early in the morning, before the sun was up, only to find that Aster was already out and about somewhere. In their search for him they would pick up a quick breakfast from the kitchen (though Swirlix grew steadily more frustrated with every day that Mew intruded on her culinary palace), and eventually find their new partner wherever he happened to be. His preferred hiding spots included the seashore, the observatory, the café, the lighthouse, and the docks. Sometimes he would be writing a letter when they’d find him, though he wouldn't say who it was meant for and they never saw him visit the post office. Every day Mew got a bit faster at finding him, until it became almost like a little game between them. 

The Treecko didn't slump over when they approached anymore. He didn’t look exactly pleased to see them either, but it was better than the outright distaste he had displayed earlier. Mew still didn't get to choose the jobs they went on, though that didn't mean they weren’t interesting. Together they went on jobs involving item retrievals, rescuing lost Pokemon, and even hunting down an outlaw! (Aster had insisted that Mew stay behind him during that last one.) And best of all, not a single unfamiliar memory came to them during that entire time, to the point where they forgot about that business entirely. 

With every trip Mew learned a little more about the world they lived in: the reason it rained; how the earth revolved around the sun; why crops needed water and sunlight. Their curiosity, rather than subsiding, only grew stronger with every new discovery—they needed to know everything, and the best way of doing so was to travel and see the world for themself. How fortunate it was that their occupation involved just that. 

However, one day Mew woke up not to a silent, indigo morning, but to a sunlit room and the sound of quiet snores. The desk and equipment chest were draped in dark brown shadows, lending a comfortable air to the bedroom. They sat up and spotted a familiar Treecko actually sleeping in his bed. That was new: they had never seen him sleep before. Ordinarily he would still be up when they went to bed, and when they woke up he would be already wandering the town. 

They didn’t have long to dwell on the unusual situation, however, as the rhythmic chimes of a distant bell shooed the silence away. Aster shot up, eyes wide, and immediately twisted to look out the window. He stared in disbelief at the yellow sun, which was peeking through a hole in the dark cloud cover. “No way,” he muttered. “Did I actually oversleep?” 

“Morning, Aster!” Mew said cheerily. 

He swiveled and looked at them as though he had just noticed they were there. “Oh. Um. Good morning.” 

“What’re you so surprised about?” 

“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Normally I don’t sleep very well. It just feels weird to be waking up late for once.” 

The chimes stopped; footsteps and muffled voices could be heard from outside the bedroom. Mew cracked the door open and spotted some of the other Expedition Society members—Archen, Buizel, and Bunnelby—marching down the hallway with a business-like air. 

“What’s going on?” they asked. 

The Treecko was already up and raiding the chest in the corner of the room; most of the equipment was thrown out onto the floor, with only a few wands and orbs shoved haphazardly into his bag. Once satisfied, he made for the door. “The daily meeting,” he said as he passed them and stepped out into the hall. 

“The what now?” Mew followed him out and floated alongside him. He was walking as though he was in a hurry. “If this meeting is daily, how come we’ve never gone to it?” 

“I might’ve…skipped it a few times.” He hefted the bag higher onto his shoulder. “And we always left early before the meeting actually happened, so I guess you never got to see it.” 

“Does the whole Society usually attend this meeting?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, great!” They leaned forward and flew a little faster. “Maybe I can get to know some of the other members better! It feels like we never see them, you know?” 

The two reached the central room, where a single pale sunbeam broke in through a window to shoo away the shadows. Ampharos was talking about a big expedition they were planning on the Sand Continent, something about paying a visit to an ancient city with never before seen Pokemon species. Most of the Society members stood at attention and listened dutifully, but Swirlix kept sneaking wistful glances at the kitchen door, while Mawile impatiently tapped her foot on the floor. Not one of them seemed to notice the two entering. Mew intended to fix that. Aster, his head down, silently led Mew to the back of the crowd. “Stay quiet,” he whispered. “Maybe we can still sneak out—”

“Hi, guys!” Mew said. “Whatcha talking about?” 

Ampharos fell silent at the interruption, and the entire Society turned to stare at them. The Treecko froze, teeth clenched, then slumped over and sighed. 

Dutifully, Archen said, “Hey, Mew. Good to see you.” Then, “Oh. Hey, Aster.”

“Hi,” Aster said, staring at the floor. 

“We were just going over some future plans to investigate reports of a lost city on the Sand Continent,” Ampharos said, smiling warmly at them. “So as I was saying, the Gliscor we’ve been in contact with says…” 

For what felt like hours, he explained every minute detail of the alleged city buried beneath the sand dunes. Mew listened intently at first, but soon boredom started to seep in; one could only pay attention to the same topic for so long without losing interest. Judging by what Ampharos was saying, they weren't even going to check out the city anytime soon! So why in the world would anyone care about it? Mew started to understand why Aster skipped these meetings so often. To keep themself entertained, they looked around at the other members to see how they were holding up, though what they found disappointed them: Bunnelby, Dedenne, and Buizel were all engrossed in Ampharos’ speech, and Archen was even taking notes! 

Mawile, however, was staring intently at Mew and Aster. It felt more than a little uncomfortable, like she was examining them for any imperfections to pounce on. Mew floated a few inches to the left so that Aster would block her vision, but still they felt her gaze on them, hot as the sun. What was her deal? 

Aster shot them a look: What are you doing? He didn’t say it, but they could tell he wanted to. 

In response they nodded almost imperceptibly towards Mawile. He looked towards her—and immediately looked away, his eyes widening slightly. The two exchanged shrugs, then he shuffled a little to the right so that he could hide them better. 

After what felt like years, Ampharos finally finished describing the lost city and concluded the meeting with, “Give it your all out there, team!” 

The Society responded with a chorus of cheers, and all of them—including Mawile, thankfully—dispersed throughout the building to handle whatever needed doing. Aster took Mew’s paw and made for the front door, but Ampharos called out, “Aster! Mew! Can I have a word with you two?” 

“What do you need?” Aster said. “We were actually going out to handle a job, so—”

“What’re you talking about? We haven’t accepted a job yet!” Mew said, tilting their head. He shot them a meaningful glare, but they didn’t really understand what he meant, so they floated towards Ampharos, the Treecko following reluctantly. 

“A request for help came in just last night. It seems quite urgent,” Ampharos said as they approached. “During the petrification crisis caused by Dark Matter, a Hoppip was in the Sunbathed Garden. His family hasn’t heard from him for several weeks now, and they’re getting quite worried. I trust you understand the significance of this?” 

Aster nodded grimly, but Mew had no idea what a petrification crisis, Dark Matter, or Hoppip was. Not for the first time, they had the distinct sensation of being locked out of the loop. 

Ampharos seemed to notice their confusion, judging by the way he tilted his head. “Has nobody told you about Dark Matter, Mew?” 

They shook their head. A small, distant part of them felt a strange sense of déjà vu at the name, though they were certain they’d never heard of it before. “I don’t think you guys mentioned it yet,” they said. It felt uncomfortably like they were trying to convince themself. 

“Ahh…hmm. How do I explain this to you?” Ampharos folded his arms, seemingly thinking, and eventually started speaking: “Dark Matter was a creature created from every Pokemon’s negativity, and it wanted nothing more than to destroy the planet we lived on. It had two main methods of doing so: turning Pokemon to stone, and dragging the planet into the sun.” 

“And possession,” Aster said darkly. “It took control of Pokemon and made them do its bidding.” 

“Wow, that sounds interesting,” Mew said. “And terrible. Mostly terrible. Did Dark Matter win?” 

The Treecko stared dully at Mew. “We wouldn't even be here if it won. The planet would be burnt to a crisp. We’d be dead.” 

“Oh. Right…yeah, that makes sense.” They rubbed the back of their neck, grinning sheepishly. 

Ampharos stepped forward and clapped Aster’s shoulder. “In the end, Dark Matter was defeated. The remaining Pokemon who hadn’t been petrified came together to stop it once and for all, though I’d wager that Aster and Vallea did most of the work.”

“Woah…” Mew turned to Aster with their mouth hanging open. “You never told me you saved the world!” 

“It wasn’t only me,” Aster said, lowering his gaze to the floor. “Vallea’s the one who stopped Dark Matter for good. I just…helped.” 

“Who’s Vallea?” Mew asked. 

He scowled. “My old partner.” 

“Oh.” They knew from experience that asking about his old partner tended to be met with anger, so they didn't push further. Instead, they asked, “So what does this Dark Matter thingy have to do with finding a lost Pokemon?” 

“When Dark Matter was defeated, every petrified Pokemon was returned to normal,” Ampharos said. “But depending on where they were petrified, some were in more danger than others when they returned. Imagine you're flying over an ocean only to be suddenly turned into stone.”

He furrowed his brow, the orb on his forehead glowing faintly. “You would…plummet, and when you awoke you'd be underwater.” 

“Wait. Hoppip can fly,” Aster whispered, his eyes haunted. 

“If you got petrified in a Mystery Dungeon, where the land itself changes around you, it would be very easy to get lost,” Ampharos continued. “I suppose that’s what happened to Hoppip. He was travelling through the Sunbathed Garden when Dark Matter attacked, and now he can’t find his way back home. Can you two handle this job?” 

“Oh, definitely!” Mew said, squaring their shoulders. “Finding that Hopper—”

“Hoppip,” Ampharos said.

“—will be no problem for us, even if he’s lost in a Mystery Dungeon! Right, Aster?” 

“A Pokemon who was petrified…” The Treecko shook his head, his expression troubled. “I don't know. Can nobody else handle it?” 

“What do you mean?” Mew said. “Isn't taking care of stuff like this our job? Why are you turning it down?” 

“I’m not turning it down; I just want to know if anyone else is available for the job.” 

“I’m afraid not,” Ampharos said. He blinked, and his eyes suddenly looked bleary, betraying a depth of exhaustion Mew hadn’t noticed before. “Archen, Buizel, and Bunnelby have been busy for weeks finding Pokemon lost in the mountains, at sea, and underground. Dedenne and I have to coordinate all of this, while Mawile and Jirachi are busy with their own investigations into the origins of Dark Matter.” 
Aster blew out a long breath.  “Alright, fine. We’ll find that Hoppip. Is that all, Chief?” 

“No, actually,” Ampharos said. Ignoring Aster’s pointed sigh, he continued, “How have you two been working together? Is everything going alright?” 

“Yep!” Mew said as Aster nodded. 

“Good, good,” Ampharos said, though he seemed preoccupied. The orbs on his head and tail glowed faintly, and his brow was furrowed. “That’s good…”

He stared at the two silently, apparently consumed by whatever was on his mind. The hall was empty now, and Mew was getting restless—Hoppip was in danger, and they needed to get to him as soon as possible! Every second counted. “Can we go now?” they asked. 

“Er…yes,” he said, his focus clearly elsewhere. He waddled up the stairs with an “Excuse me.” 

The two watched him go in silence. When he was out of earshot, Aster rubbed his face and let out a resigned sigh. “Okay…okay,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s…let’s go get this over with.” 

“You good?” Mew asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I…just don’t like thinking about Dark Matter, that's all.” The Treecko shook his head. “We should get going.” With that, he made for the front door. Lively Town was already awake, chattering voices overlapping as the greasy stench of something frying filled the air. Mew’s stomach growled, and they remembered they hadn’t had anything to eat today! Maybe Aster would let them double back and grab something? Or—

A pair of apples was shoved into their arms. “Here.”

They looked at Aster, whose focus remained stubbornly on the road before him as he closed his bag. They had no clue where he’d gotten the food from, but they knew better than to question his fits of unexpected kindness. The rhythmic rumbling of waves echoed through the streets as the two headed through the crowded plaza and out the town gate. 

Getting to Sunbathed Garden was a simple task: all it required was a half day’s walk following a dirt path near the coastline. Besides a brief trek through the Gentle Slope Cave, the trip was easy going. Aster didn’t mention anything about Dark Matter, nor did he seem inclined to talk about it, so Mew decided not to bring it up again. As they traveled, the sky grew darker and shrouded in heavy grey clouds; the only sunlight came in occasional thin beams that pierced the cloud cover. The path trailed off, replaced by wild clumps of grass and bushes, but Aster kept moving with confidence as he referred to a map on his fancy Gadget. 

Soon, he came to an abrupt halt. Mew stopped alongside him. Before the two lay an thriving, idyllic grassland dotted with flowers of all shapes and colors. Some of the flowers were tall and yellow, all of them facing the same direction—sunflowers, Mew remembered. Aster had told them that sunflowers always tried to face the sun. They didn’t know how accurate that was considering how the sun was presently hidden behind a cloud cover, but it didn’t seem impossible. Other flowers were minuscule, smaller than their paw, little blue and white dots against the oddly short grass. Still others were round and short, bearing fat violet petals on top of thin stems. The air smelled sweet and fragrant and fresh, to the point where Mew’s nose began to itch. The colorful field went all the way to the horizon, and ancient, gnarled trees dotted the landscape every so often. 

Something about this place seemed so familiar. If Mew let their thoughts wander enough, they could almost see themself running through the flower-covered fields, laughing as they relished the sun on their face. 

They shook their head to clear it. “Are we there yet?” 

“Yes.” Aster stared straight ahead with unusual intensity. 

Mew grinned at the flowers laid out before them. “How come you didn’t want to take this job? This place is beautiful!” 

“I don't like looking for Pokemon who used to be petrified,” he murmured.

“How come?” 

“I just don’t, okay?” The Treecko grabbed hold of their paw. “Now hold on tight. We’ll enter on my mark.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Mew rolled their eyes. After the incident at Odd Field, he had insisted that the two enter any Mystery Dungeon at the same time to avoid getting separated. Mew hated it: the whole process made them feel like a child who needed to be looked after, not a competent and capable explorer. But he’d refused to take them along unless they agreed to it, so there was nothing to be done about it. After counting to three in unison, they stepped (or floated in Mew’s case) across the invisible border. Once again, nothing seemed to change; Aster, however, wrinkled his nose at the flower field stretching out before him. 

“Why are you making that face? Did you smell something funny?” Mew asked.
“The weather’s worse in here. A storm's coming, do you feel it?” 

“I don't feel—” 

A brisk wind picked up and blew Mew back like a balloon. Aster grabbed hold of their tail before they got too far and pulled them back down, then glared up at the sky. “Now do you feel it?” he asked flatly. 

“Yeah.” 

“Most Pokemon prefer to hide from the rain, so our job might get a bit easier when the storm starts. Maybe we’ll get lucky and nobody will try to fight us.” He scanned the plains all around him for several seconds, his eyes narrowed, then he walked forward a few steps. Then he looked around again, wasting precious seconds, and walked a few more steps. He repeated this process several times, inching forward at an achingly slow speed. What was he doing? Every other time they’d looked for a lost Pokemon they’d proceeded at a much faster pace. Time was of the essence when looking for someone in a Mystery Dungeon. Hoppip was out there somewhere, possibly in grave danger, and they were wasting so much time for what seemed like no good reason. Eventually Mew got fed up with him. 

“Why are you doing that?” 

“Doing what?” he asked without looking at them. 

“That!” They flew to where he could see them and mocked his movements, tip-toeing forward with a faux-terrified expression on their face. “You’re going so slow! We need to find this Hoppip before anything happens to him, and at the rate you're going it’ll take us hours to get anywhere!” 

The Treecko frowned at them. “I reckon you can never be too careful in a Mystery Dungeon, Mew. Especially when looking for Pokemon who used to be petrified. I’ve taken jobs like this before, and…sometimes you find things that aren't very pretty.” He continued his sluggish search while the clouds rumbled and the wind grew ever stronger, whistling through the flowers and sending petals flying up into the air. 

“This is stupid.” Mew said. “What does Hoppip look like? I can fly up into the air and search for him from a good vantage point. It’ll be easier to find him that way.” 

“Uh…look for a round pink body, stubby arms and legs, yellow eyes, and a pair of big leaves on top of his head. Can you remember all that?” 

“Yep.” 

Mew started to float up, but Aster said, “Hold on. If you see anything that could be dangerous, and I mean anything, come down immediately. Do you understand?” 

“Aster, there’s nothing up there to worry about!” they whined, pointing at the sky. “Do you see any Pokemon flying around? I don’t!”

“Do you understand?” he repeated. 

They groaned. “Ugh, yes! Can I go now?” 

The Treecko glared at them for a few seconds, then eventually nodded. Mew immediately took off, rocketing up as fast as they could. The cool wind blew through their fur, the air smelling earthy and fresh, and they laughed in exhilaration. They soared through the sky, riding the wind currents and drifting wherever they pleased, but they stopped before reaching the low storm clouds: they didn’t know for sure what was in there, and they didn’t feel like risking it when they had a job to do. 

Right, the job. They were supposed to be looking for Hoppip. 

A small part of Mew shrank away from the prospect of spending their time staring at the ground instead of flying around as they pleased, but they knew Aster and Hoppip were counting on them. Mew rolled over onto their stomach and looked down at the flower-covered field. The longer they scanned the wild garden for any signs of Hoppip, the clearer it became that finding him would be an arduous process. The Sunbathed Garden viewed from above was a veritable ocean of colors—blue, orange, red, yellow, violet, indigo, every single color Mew could think of was down there somewhere, mixed in with everything else. It hurt their eyes to look at. Picking out Aster from the flowers was hard enough; they shuddered to think how difficult it would be to find Hoppip, especially if he was hiding beneath the branches of one of those trees. Every time they saw a flash of pink and green, it turned out to be nothing more than a little flower flapping in the wind. 

Mew quickly grew frustrated. Why couldn’t Hoppip get lost in a desert or tundra or something? It’d be a whole lot easier to find him there instead of a place like this. They tried to keep looking, but they kept losing focus; their shoulders and neck tensed up, their brow furrowed, and they just. Couldn’t. Find him. They let out an exasperated groan. 

Something cold and wet hit the top of their head, soaking their fur. They rolled over to look at the sky, where they spotted drops of water falling from the clouds. “Oh, great,” they muttered. “Now it’s raining too.” 

Mew rolled back to face the ground—and saw a round, pink Pokemon out of the corner of their eye. Could that be Hoppip? Sudden excitement coursed through their veins as they ran through Aster’s list. Stubby arms and legs, check. A pair of big leaves, check. They weren’t sure about the eyes though; the Pokemon was lying face-down, possibly unconscious. 

From up in the sky, Mew could see that Aster was searching in the complete opposite direction of where he needed to go. “Aster!” they shouted, but the clouds themselves let out a deafening boom at the same time. “Aster!” they shouted again, louder this time. 

The Treecko looked up at the ruckus. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He started yelling something, but they couldn't make out what he was saying—the clouds were making that crashing noise over and over as great white flashes jolted through the grey mist and rain. The air suddenly felt oddly fuzzy, like it was filled to the brim with static electricity, and a sweet and pungent odor hung all around them. Aster started gesturing wildly as he shouted, but Mew didn't understand what he meant. Eventually they managed to make out a phrase: Get down! 

As soon as Mew processed that, a huge bolt of lightning shot out of the clouds and struck a tree directly below them. The lightning blew right past them, but smaller bolts broke off and jolted to their arm. 

For a moment all Mew knew was pain, a terrible shock raging through their entire body. 

They lurched away from where the lightning had just been, but they lost their balance and started falling down, down, unable to stop. They tumbled through the air, somersaulting this way and that, trying desperately to gather their thoughts and remember how to levitate. In the face of the thunder and lightning their mind had gone blank with panic, their whole body soaked, paws and face tingling, the world a blur. They flailed their arms in a desperate attempt to use their own telekinesis on themself, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked, and they couldn’t stop falling. 

They managed to right themself so that they were facing the ground again. It was getting too close. They’d hit it in a few seconds. Mew closed their eyes and took a deep breath, then tried to fly one more time. 

They managed to slow down, but they couldn’t stop their fall completely. They hit the ground with a faint thump. Everything became silent. 

When Mew managed to open their eyes, their entire body hurt—their chest, their arms, their legs, their face. They rolled onto their back with a groan. It was storming in earnest now, the sky rumbling, the cold wind carrying colorful petals past, and the rain pouring onto them. The clouds were dark and moody with an odd green spot in the middle. Mew blinked. The green spot became a Treecko’s frightened face. His mouth was moving, but Mew couldn’t hear anything he said. They blinked the rain out of their eyes and tried to concentrate. 

“Are you hurt?” Aster was saying. 

“Uh,” Mew said. They sat up and tried moving their arms. It worked, so they gave their chest and legs a glance: dark bruises blotched their entire body. They gave the bruises a few experimental pats: they ached, but not badly, though their arms wouldn’t stop shaking for some reason. “I’m a little banged up, but I’ll be fine.” 

“Good,” he said with a sigh of relief. His relief quickly turned into anger, though, as he snapped, “What were you thinking?! I told you to come back down if you saw anything dangerous!” 

“I didn’t know you were referring to the storm!” Mew said indignantly. “I thought you meant an angry Pokemon or something! How was I supposed to know lightning is dangerous?!” 

“It’s common sense!” he roared.

Mew jabbed his chest. “Yeah, maybe for you! I only have a few weeks’ worth of memories, and none of them involve getting hit by lightning!” 

“I—” Aster cut himself off. After rubbing his face and letting out a frustrated groan, he reached into his bag and pulled out an Oran berry. “Eat this.” 

“I’m not hurt that badly—”

“Eat it,” he ordered, his tone unusually dangerous. 

Mew ate the berry. A few of the aches around their body faded, and the bruises on their chest and legs lightened slightly. In the absence of pain, their mind was free to focus on other things, like—

They gasped. “Oh, that’s right!”

“What is it?” he asked, taken aback at their surprise. 

“I think I saw Hoppip! He was lying face-down on the ground somewhere around here, but…I can't remember where exactly.” They tried to lift off from the ground, but a sharp pain shot through their chest at the sudden movement. The earth spun beneath them, nearly knocking them down onto their back. 

Aster must have noticed them flinch, because he started reaching into his bag again. 

“I’m okay!” they said, trying to cut him off before he could pull out another Oran berry. “Really, I’m fine. I just—”

But Aster had already shoved another Oran into their paws. “Eat.” 

“I—”

“We’re not going anywhere until you eat it.” He sat down cross-legged in front of them, his eyes narrowed. Mew opened their mouth, intending to argue, only to realize that every second spent squabbling with him was another second Hoppip was in danger. As much as they'd love to debate how many Oran berries they needed, they would rather spend their time doing something actually important. Mew scarfed down the Oran as quickly as they could, leaving their paws smeared in blue juice, then tried to rise off of the wet ground again. It worked, and the pain all around their body faded into nothing but a dull ache. The bruises were still there, though they were a little lighter now. 

“Better?” he said. 

“Yes,” Mew hissed. “Now can we go?! Hoppip’s somewhere nearby!”

“Fine.” The Treecko stood up and brushed clumps of dirt and grass off his legs. “But don’t fly too high, you hear me? I don’t want you getting struck by lightning again.” 

“Okay, fine! Now let's go!” 

Probably due to Mew’s urgency, Aster abandoned his sluggish method of searching in favor of actually walking at a normal pace. Thanks to this drastic increase in speed, the two managed to find the Pokemon Mew had spotted in a matter of minutes. He was still lying face-down in a cluster of tiny blue flowers, but all of his characteristics matched Aster’s description: round pink body, stubby arms and legs, green leaves. As the two approached him, Mew asked, “So is that Hoppip?”

“I think so,” Aster said, and Mew immediately flew off towards Hoppip, leaving the Treecko behind. They dove down and turned Hoppip onto his back. The leaves coming from the top of his head were tattered and torn, little bits and pieces missing from them; one of the leaves was significantly shorter than the other, its tip chopped off entirely. His eyes were closed, though he was still breathing from what they could tell. Little cuts and scrapes adorned his body. None of them were deep enough to be severe, but they still needed to be treated. 

“Aster, do you have one of those Reviving seed thingies?” Mew asked, looking down at Hoppip. “I think he needs one.” 

No response. 

“Aster?” They turned towards him. The Treecko was staring down at the ground, his expression oddly blank. He bent down and picked up a flat, thin stone that had a web of lines engraved into it. 

“It’s…” He trailed off.

“Hey!” they raised their voice. “Come on, get it together!” 

“It’s like a puzzle piece.” Aster stared at the stone for a few seconds longer, then gently placed it back onto the ground with trembling paws. 

Mew floated up to Aster and grabbed hold of his shoulders. “I think Hoppip’s been hurt. He needs our help!”

“Right,” he murmured, his gaze dull. He reached into his bag and pulled out a Reviver Seed and an Escape Orb. “Yeah. Let’s take him home.” 

Bringing Hoppip home took a good few hours, mostly because Hoppip wasn’t in much of a position to give them directions. He regained consciousness after being fed a Reviver Seed, but he seemed perpetually on the verge of falling asleep, and anything he said came in fragile whispers. He kept asking about the leaves on his head. Neither Mew nor Aster knew how to respond, so they just kept telling him he'd be okay. Aster carried him as they traveled along the road on the coastline, occasionally asking him for directions in an oddly gentle tone.

Eventually they managed to find Hoppip’s home—a small village of farmers that was located in a forest not far from the coast. When they arrived, his family—a Jumpluff, Cherrim, and Cherubi—immediately rushed him to the local healer. Mew wanted to stay and see if he’d be all right, but Aster ardently refused to delay their return to Lively Town any longer. 

So they continued their journey home—was Lively Town really home now?— making their way down a worn dirt path that twisted and turned in on itself as though the Pokemon who’d created it hadn't known where they were going. It led them through dark, creepy forests and wide open plains, until they finally reached a field of tall, wild grass that stretched all the way to the coast on the horizon. 

Mew was feeling quite spry for someone who’d been grazed by a bolt of lightning. As Aster trudged down the path, Mew flew between the deep green blades of grass, occasionally popping out and diving back in like they would in an ocean, laughing in excitement. Aster, on the other hand, stared down at the path with tired eyes as he walked. For some reason that job had left him an exhausted shell. At first Mew had thought he just didn't like being beneath the rain, but the storm had ended several hours ago and he was still just as glum as he’d been when they’d found Hoppip. 

With the rain gone, the crimson sun now hung low over the horizon, the sky painted in broad strokes of orange, pink, and purple. Sharp grey clouds stood stark against the colorful sky; the storm’s winds had whipped up the clouds into abstract, unrecognizable shapes with little puffs of white scattered here and there. The meadows grew sparser as they went on, and the two eventually came across a mossy stone bridge above a burbling creek. It was getting cooler now, the air smelling of pollen and muddy roots. 

“Can we stop for a moment?” Aster asked in a monotone. “I…need to take a break.” 

“Sure, yeah!” Mew floated off of the bridge and over the river so they could get a better view of the dark water. At the bottom of the river sat a whole bunch of pebbles mixed in with tall, thin plants that swayed in the current. The setting sun’s rays reflected off the river’s surface and created fleeting red glimmers on the deep blue water. 

Mew turned to flash Aster a grin. “We did pretty good today, huh?” 

The Treecko shrugged. He sat on the bridge’s edge, his legs hanging over the water, and he looked at the river as though he were searching for something in the depths. Something was off about him, though Mew didn’t know what exactly was wrong—maybe it was the way he furrowed his brow, or how his paws repeatedly clenched and unclenched, or it could be the faint longing in his eyes. 

“You okay?” they asked. 

“Huh?” He looked up at them. “Yeah. I’m just tired. Need a minute to rest.” 

Mew shook their head. “That’s not what I mean. There’s obviously something on your mind. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Aster rubbed his nose, seemingly thinking, then lowered his gaze back down to the water. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked tonelessly. 

“Sure.” 

“These jobs, looking for Pokemon who used to be petrified… They terrify me. That's why I was moving so slowly back at the Sunbathed Garden. I was worried I’d step on something…unpleasant.” 

“What?” Mew floated a bit closer. “What’re you scared of? It’s not like these Pokemon are gonna eat you.” 

A pause. “When we found Hoppip, did you recognize the stone I picked up? Did it seem familiar at all?” 

“Uh…” They thought for a moment, their brow furrowed. “No, not really.” 

He nodded grimly. “Good. It's better that way.” 

“Huh? What do you mean?” 

But the Treecko didn’t seem inclined to continue. He only stared down at the swift river’s current, sitting still as a statue. Eventually, he muttered, “When Dark Matter disappeared, I thought we’d finally get some time to rest. But…no matter how hard I try to forget everything that happened, it just keeps haunting me.”

“So? You’re a hero, right? You saved the world! Stuff like this should be no problem for you!” Mew darted to him, grabbed his torso, and lifted him to his feet. They tried a smile, but he didn’t bother returning it, turning away instead with a sigh.

“I wish Vallea were here,” he murmured. “She’s a lot braver than I am. She’d know how to handle this.” 

So that’s what this was about. Mew waited for him to continue; when he didn’t, they asked, “Do you miss her?”

“All the time.” 

They were curious about what happened to her, but they knew now that topics like these needed to be approached with care. So they asked, “How did you two meet?” 

“Well…” The Treecko scoffed. “She didn't exactly introduce herself. On the day I arrived at the village she lived in, she sneaked up on me and took me by surprise. Dragged me all over the place in an impromptu tour. Vallea…honestly, she was really hyper. I didn't know anyone could have that much energy. Sometimes she’d wake me up in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep, and we’d talk until the sun came up.” 

Mew grinned. “Sounds like she was fun to be around.” 

“Fun is one word for it. Most people in the village would say she was exhausting.” 

“Did you think she was exhausting?”

“…I used to.” Gently, he took off his greenish-blue scarf and cradled it in his paws. “But then she gave me this, and I realized how kind she was.” 

“So…where is she now? I’d love to meet her.” 

He looked up and met their eyes. For a brief moment anger flashed across his face, and it seemed like he would tell them off again. Then it vanished, replaced by emptiness. “She had to…go.” 

They cocked their head. “Go where?” 

“I…I don’t know.” The Treecko slowly lowered himself until he was sitting on the bridge's edge again.

“What do you mean, you don't know? Did she run away in the middle of the night or something?” 

“No, no. I…” Aster blew out a long breath, fidgeting with the scarf. “She—” His voice broke as he hugged his knees to his chest and fell silent. 

Mew floated silently, unsure of what to say. He just sat there staring at the river for several seconds. When he spoke, it was in a quiet monotone. “I don’t know where she is now. I don’t think she'll ever come back. Everyone tells me she will, but they’re wrong. I saw her fall apart on the hill. She fell apart into golden lights. There’s no way she can come back from that.” 

Mew didn't know how to respond. Nothing he said was making sense. But whether it made sense or not, he was obviously hurting. Maybe this was why he was so cold to them. After a few seconds, they floated over and sat down on the bridge next to him, then they patted his shoulder in an attempt to make him feel better. Up close they realized how badly he was shaking—like a house on the verge of collapsing, holding itself together with the last of its strength. 

“I’m, um, sorry,” Mew said after a few seconds. 

“Don’t be. None of this is your fault.” Almost angrily, he turned to them and met their eyes. “When I was looking for you, I thought I would somehow get her back if I found you.”

“How would that work?”

He scoffed. “I don’t know. It's…I guess it’s a mixture of unusual circumstances and my own wishful thinking. But you have nothing to do with this.” He nodded to himself. “Looking back, it doesn’t really make sense.”

The two sat quietly for a while, staring down at their blurry reflections in the creek. The water burbled and whispered as it swept by on its way to wherever it was going—the ocean or a lake or a well, Mew didn’t know. The sun had nearly set completely, leaving them with a faint crimson afterglow that did little to light up the plains and river.

Aster took a deep breath and tied the scarf back around his neck. “I’m sorry for burdening you. I don’t mean to be a downer.” 

“No, it’s fine! I was curious why you were so mean, but I guess this sort of makes sense,” they said, shrugging. “You just miss your friend, right?”

The Treecko turned to them, his brow furrowed. “Was I really that mean?” 

“Oh, for sure,” Mew said. “You kept telling me to get lost, remember? And you wouldn’t answer any of my questions at first. And every time I got hurt, you’d get really mad for some reason.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He sniffed, frowned at his paws. His voice trembled as he continued, “I-I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’re a good person, but I…always feel so angry and scared, and when I take it out on you I feel even worse. Ever since Dark Matter attacked a-and Vallea vanished, I…”

Aster broke off with a sob that curled his body in on itself. Even in the dying light, Mew could see a few tears running down his cheek, his eyes shimmering. He touched his face where the tears were, then gasped sharply. “No,” he murmured. “No, no, not now. I-I promised I wouldn’t…” He wiped away the tears, but more came to take their place. 

“W-woah, hey!” Mew lurched back involuntarily. “I didn’t mean it like that. I, uh, um—”

He kept wiping the tears away from his face and eyes to no avail. “She asked me not to cry when she disappeared. I-I can’t…”

“Why would she ask you not to cry? That sounds kind of selfish—”

Mew cut themself off, realizing too late that it wasn’t the best time for that kind of comment. They sat there helplessly. In that instance, everything seemed more fragile than it had previously been. In the short time they’d known him, Aster had always been the one who knew to do, the one who guided them in unfamiliar situations. But here he was, obviously hurting, and they had nobody to tell them what to do in order to help. 

“I can’t keep going like this,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t…”

The Treecko trailed off, hiding his face behind his paws. Mew sat with him on the bridge, seconds turning into minutes, as he wept for his past and his partner. Sob after sob shook his shoulders and curled him tighter, the sounds of grief echoing across the crimson fields. Mew didn’t know what to say, but a little voice in the back of their head spoke for the first time. It told them nothing needed to be said. Sometimes, all that mattered was being there for those who needed it. They stepped off of the bridge to float before him, and pulled him into a hug. Slowly the weeping grew quieter, until eventually he fell silent and lowered his paws from his face. He pushed them away, but gently. The Treecko looked tired, but alive. He wiped the tears away and sniffed once. When he spoke again, he sounded almost composed. “Thank you.” 

Hs gratitude was so unexpected that Mew almost laughed. “For what?” 

“For being here.” He met their eyes. “How…how about we start over?”

“What do you mean?”

“I…haven't been fair to you. I blamed you for things you couldn’t control.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you still want to be friends, then, er…”

Mew grinned. “Of course I want to be friends with you!”

“You sure? I’ve been a massive—” He cut himself off, thought for a second or two, then said, “I haven’t been very nice, is what I’m trying to say.” 

“Don't be stupid. I’ll be friends with you!” They opened their mouth intending to continue, but when they spoke no sound came out. In fact, they couldn't hear anything at all. Aster’s voice, the breeze blowing through the wild grass, the river burbling beneath them—it was all gone, replaced with silence. 

A strange sensation came: regret, sick and rotting, festering within them. They couldn’t shake the terrible feeling of having done something wrong, even though there was no reason to feel this way. 

Furrowing their brow, Mew tapped their ears under the belief that there was something stuck in them. It didn’t make a difference. Aster was saying something, reaching up to touch his scarf—

That scarf. It was important. 

Images and emotions flashed through Mew’s mind, each barely remaining for a moment before another would take its place. They saw crowds of kids running and playing without them, and heard their disparaging insults directed at her, and felt lonely, so very lonely. Why wouldn’t anyone be her friend? Was she doing something wrong? She was only trying to be nice, but everyone just called her annoying…
It was happening again. The unfamiliar memories were coming. Mew tried to pull themself back to reality, back to the bridge above the river, only for the world to collapse beneath them and send them plummeting down, down, into darkness and the cold water. 

They heard a voice from somewhere far away. Mew? You in there? 

Mew tried to reply, to say that they were scared. Nothing came out. 

Hey, talk to me. Say something.

They couldn't. They were back in the Sunbathed Garden again, falling and unable to stop, but the ground wasn't getting any closer. The farther Mew fell the faster the earth receded from them, until suddenly they looked up and spotted a massive, dying tree floating above a rotten crater. 

They were right. She was selfish. She hadn’t wanted to see people hurting, but all she’d managed to do was make things worse…

The world faded to nothing, and Mew remembered no more. 

Ampharos was in the observatory helping Jirachi with an astronomy problem (that he only pretended to understand) when Aster burst into the Society building carrying a comatose Mew. After rushing the two to their bedroom, Ampharos stumbled out and made his way to Mawile’s study, where she was glaring down at yet another ancient inscription. She looked up when he entered, her expression grim. 

“It’s beginning,” he told her. 

The next day, they sent for Xatu. He arrived in a matter of hours, during which Mew regained consciousness—much to Aster’s relief. As for Ampharos, Mawile, and Xatu, Mew’s sickness was no surprise to them. They’d all been informed about it one way or another: Xatu had foreseen it and he’d warned Ampharos, who had let Mawile know. The sickness was a sign of Vallea's presence, proof that she hadn’t faded away completely. It meant there was still a chance for her to come back. But if the plan was to proceed as intended, neither of the children could know about that. So when Xatu gave his diagnosis in the children’s bedroom, he told nothing but a carefully fabricated story about how a fragment of Dark Matter still remained within Mew, and that Mew needed to rest in order to heal. 

Everyone believed it. Mew, Aster, Dedenne, the entire Society, they trusted their chief, and Xatu by extension. Part of Ampharos recoiled from lying to all the Pokemon whom he’d known for so long. He’d never lied to them before, not even once, and he felt sick to his stomach for doing so. 

After Xatu gave his diagnosis, Ampharos ordered the Society to clear out of the bedroom and give the two some space. Most of them either went to handle some work or left the building entirely, but Mawile lingered in the room. He exchanged a silent nod with her, then she left.

When she was gone, he turned to the children and put on a reassuring smile as he swayed side to side, his balance nearly gone. Mew was lying curled up on their bed, bruises all over their body, their eyes only half open. Aster sat beside them with worry written all over his face. 

Ampharos shook his head to try and shake some of the dizziness that plagued him, and said, “Get some rest. That applies to both of you.” 

Aster blanched. “But—” 

“No buts.” Ampharos wagged a paw. “If you go out on a job, Aster, I know for a fact that you”—he pointed at Mew—“will find a way to sneak out and follow him. It's happened before with Archen and Buizel.” 

“Who says I’ll sneak out?” Mew said in a ghostly, tired voice. “I…honestly, I don't feel up to doing anything right now.” 

“Which is why you need to rest,” Ampharos said. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay now,” they said. “But when I was unconscious, it felt like I was dreaming. It felt so…sad. And lonely. Like I could never find my way home again.” 

“Er…” Ampharos cast about for a suitable explanation. “Well, Dark Matter was an amalgamation of negativity, after all. I suppose loneliness is a part of that.” 

“Will they be alright?” Aster asked, and Ampharos could hear the concern in his voice. That was good: it meant the boy cared about Mew. When they would take Mew and act like they needed to be destroyed—to “stop” Dark Matter once and for all—Aster would be terrified, and the

Harmony Scarves would resonate with his fear. 

It was brilliant. It was sickening. 

There was so much Ampharos wanted to tell them, but to speak any of it aloud meant risking everything they’d worked so hard to set up. Bringing Mew to the Expedition Society, pairing them up with Aster, sending them on a job related to Dark Matter—all of it had been a concerted effort to reach out to whatever fragments of Vallea that still remained in Mew. Judging by what Mew had said, it seemed to be working. But if Ampharos gave into his guilt and told them the truth, she would never come back. 

He thought carefully about how to word what he wanted to say. Eventually, he declared, “Everything will be okay.” 

Chapter Text

The treatment that Xatu had assigned Mew had a couple of problems. There didn’t seem to be any visible improvement to their condition from lying in bed all day and, more importantly, it was really boring. Mew hated it. There was nothing to do in bed besides laze around and stare up at the ceiling, and with every day that passed they grew more and more restless. They wanted to get up and bound out of the building and feel the summer sun on their face, not lie there and waste away in a pathetic lethargy. It was even worse when they could hear all the other Society members coming and going all the time, talking to each other about all the wonderful places they'd been—mountains, oceans, valleys, caves overflowing with massive crystals of all colors.

Mew kept their eyes shut more often than not. These days it seemed like everything they saw drew out an unwanted flashback to a place they’d never been, things they’d never done. A budding tulip on the windowsill showed them a grove of flowering fruit trees. The paper scraps lying all over the floor told them about a time when someone had spent the whole day drawing instead of studying. And the one time they caught a glimpse of the Expedition Gadget, an entire lifetime of exploring rampaged through their thoughts and left them a comatose wreck. Not a single one of those memories was even remotely familiar to them, but that didn’t stop the endless assault of recollections.

For what it was worth, Aster stayed with them and tried to find ways to keep them entertained: board games, books, and the occasional song he’d hum to help them sleep. As nice as these distractions were, none of them could compare to the frigid wind on a mountaintop, the dark depths of a sunken ship, or a meadow of daisies with petals soaring in the wind. And no matter how long Mew waited, their illness never fully abated. There were brief periods of wellness, but they never lasted long. Mew’s boredom sank deeper into despair as days turned into long weeks and their bruises faded away. 

But one day, Aster strolled into their room with a self-satisfied look on his face. “I convinced Chief Ampharos to let us go on a trip,” he said. 

Mew bolted upright from where they lay in bed. “Where!?”

“A little place called Serene Village. I reckon you’ll like it. There are loads of kids around your age there to talk to and play with, so you won’t be sitting around bored out of your mind. And I think it's high time we had a change of scenery, don’t you?” 

All of a sudden there wasn't the faintest trace of lethargy left in them. In its place was a bright, electric excitement—they could finally go out and do something with their time! He extended a paw, and Mew took it and let him pull them to their feet. But he didn’t let go! Instead, he lifted them up and placed them onto his shoulders so they could ride on him, the same way they did in Mystery Jungle. 

“When are we leaving?” Mew said, grinning ear to ear.

“Today. I’ve already got everything sorted away and packed”—he strode towards the door, picking up his worn cloth bag on the way—“so we don’t really have anything else to take care of.” 

As the Treecko made his way through the halls, keeping Mew steady with one paw as the other held onto his bag, the midday sun that shone through the windows lashed out at Mew’s eyes and shot a piercing pain through their skull. They had to squint to keep their eyes from burning up in the light.  It was nothing like the way it had felt mere weeks ago, when the warmth and light had been welcoming instead of harsh. Mew shut their eyes and buried their face in the back of Aster’s head in the hopes that the darkness would bring some relief. The mere effort of getting up onto the Treecko’s shoulders had exhausted them; their limbs were heavy and their mind foggy. 

Aster stepped outside, and Mew started to wish they had stayed in bed. 

The barrage of noises was relentless: hundreds of voices all arguing and screaming and yelling, the waves roaring and breaking on the shoreline, the salt-filled wind shrieking as it rushed past them. Mew’s stomach churned like a stormy ocean, and their head pounded as though it were about to burst. They had never felt so ill. It was all too much, but they refused to admit it out loud. This was the first time in weeks they got to see the sun, to feel the wind, to actually get up out of bed and do something meaningful. They would bear any amount of pain to make this day worth it. Because that was what it was all about, right? Make the most of every day. That was the urge that lurked beneath their thoughts, nagging them to not waste a single second of their time, because who knew how long it would last? 

But…it might be worth voicing their concerns, just to make sure. As Aster carried them down the stairs and towards the plaza, they said, “Hold on. Didn’t Xatu tell me to rest? He said that’s the only way I can get better.”

The Treecko scoffed as he walked, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. “You can rest at Serene Village.”

“I don’t know…” Mew’s mind was sluggish and viscous; they were too tired to figure out what they wanted to say next. Aster must have noticed their exhaustion, judging by the way he came to a halt at the entrance to the docks. 

“We can stay in Lively Town if you don’t want to go,” he said. 

“No, no! I’m fine. I wanna go.” The prospect of spending even another day stuck in their bedroom was enough to make them weep. 

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

It turned out Aster had also worked out a method of transportation to Serene Village: Lapras had agreed to ferry them out of the docks and along the coastline all the way to Nectar Meadow, from which they could follow the road on foot to Serene Village. While the seawater rocked Lapras back and forth as she swam through the waves, Mew wondered what Serene Village was like. Would it be closer to Capim Town’s raised platforms and massive tree stumps, or Lively Town’s more industrialized buildings and stone roads? They didn’t know, and they were eager to find out. They didn’t ask Aster about it during the trip, though: it turned out talking often required energy that they didn’t have. They sat with Aster on Lapras’ shell in a comfortable silence, and when they arrived at Nectar Meadow at around noon, the Treecko lifted them onto his back and set off with nary a complaint. 

After a couple hours of walking, the beginnings of civilization began to make themselves known along the edges of the road. Mew realized that Serene Village was something entirely different from what they had seen before—a far cry from the stonework and arches of Lively Town, as well as the nature-based architecture of Capim Town. Where the other two towns were always in motion, everybody perpetually moving from one place to another to handle some important business, Serene Village was almost totally still. Where Capim Town and Lively Town had their buildings and Pokemon all clustered together in one spot, Serene Village was far more spread out and sparse. 

As Aster carried Mew down the dirt path, they spotted a few round wooden houses nestled between idyllic fields of sunflowers and alliums, potatoes and lettuce, all resting beneath a grey sky. The sun now hid behind dark rain clouds, so the day was only warm, not hot. The lack of sunlight came as a relief to Mew’s eyes—it meant they could look around without having to squint at the glaring light. A few Pokemon were sitting on the grass outside the houses or working in the fields, but besides them nobody else was outside, leaving the path deserted. Between the fields stood shadowed woods, mostly green, though a few of the trees’ leaves were now golden and red.

“Are these little houses the whole village?” Mew asked Aster. 

“Nah, the main part of the village is up ahead. You’ll know it when you see it,” he replied. His tone of voice was casual, but a note of trepidation lurked in the way he stared down the path with unwavering focus. 

“Something wrong?” 

“No, no. I just haven't been here in a while, that's all.” He nervously fiddled with his scarf. “I sort of…ran away.” 

“Really?!” They winced at how loud their own voice was. More quietly, they continued, “I didn't think you were the type of guy to run away. You're so…boring.” 

“Wow, thanks,” he said with a scoff. “Actually, I’ll have you know I ran away twice. The first time it was Vallea’s idea.” 

“Huh. Why’d you run away the second time?” 

He didn’t respond. 

After a few seconds, Mew asked, “Too much?” 

“Too much,” he murmured. 

A few minutes later, they came across a little creek burbling and bubbling as it flowed parallel to the path in the opposite direction of where they were going; as they traveled, the creek gradually grew wider and wider, eventually becoming a full-fledged river. They could barely see the other coast, that’s how wide it was. And far ahead of them, where a giant glittering lake fed the river its water, a group of colorful houses stood between two colossal snowy mountains that had their bases covered in forests, the leaves colored in green and orange and yellow and red. Voices sounded off in the distance—children laughing and shrieking in joy. A group of kids came running up the path towards them: a Togepi, a Budew, and a Caterpie. If Mew let their thoughts wander, they could see themself running—not floating, running—down the path as well. 

When the children spotted Aster, they let out excited shouts and sprinted even faster towards the two of them; soon they had them surrounded and were all talking over each other. 

“Aster’s back! He’s back! I gotta tell Mom!” 

“What’s it like at Lively Town?!”

“Who's that with you? Did you find your partner yet?!”

Aster flinched at that last question, but managed to maintain an expression that vaguely resembled a smile. Mew, on the other hand, had already covered their ears and shut their eyes as tightly as they could: the voices brought a pounding headache that refused to let up. The Treecko seemed to have noticed, for he shushed the kids and said, “It’s good to see you all. Hey, uh, have I ever mentioned the door to the Ancient Barrow?” 

His change of subject had all the subtlety of a punch to the face, but the children made noises of interest, oohs and aahs. “It’s supposed to be shut, right?” Budew asked in a quieter voice. Mew managed to open their eyes. 

“Well, sometimes it’s not,” Aster said. “I reckon you ought to go check—never know what you might find, right? What do you say?” 

With a chorus of excited gasps, Budew and the other kids bolted off towards the village and took their clamor with them. Aster stood, shaking his head, and watched them run off. Once they were a good distance away, he said, “Sorry about that, Mew. How're you feeling?” 

“I’ve been worse,” Mew murmured. “They were really excited to see you, huh?” 

“They would've been more excited to see Vallea—she’s the one who got them all riled up about being explorers in the first place.” He let out a little chuckle, though a sigh followed it. As he started walking again, he said, “You know, her father is still here… I sort of left him behind after it…you know, it happened. I should probably go say hi.” 

“Mm.” Mew could barely keep their eyes open, they were so tired. But they didn’t want to fall asleep either, because they were finally nearing the main part of the village and they wanted to see everything. Behind an old wooden archway stood the main plaza. It actually resembled the one in Lively Town quite a bit: there was a café and a training dojo and a shop run by a Kecleon, same as in Lively Town. The dirt path split into three smaller paths. One led to the left towards a small dock that jutted into the large lake feeding the river, while another went into the woods on the right. The third meandered through the plaza before them, across a cracked wooden bridge, and up a tall grassy hill dotted with houses. 

While the plaza’s structure may have resembled Lively Town a bit, the Pokemon here were far quieter and calmer than the residents of Lively Town. A Teddiursa and Ursaring stood chatting by the café; a Lombre swam leisurely through the lake as an Audino sat on the docks, staring at the dark clouds hanging low over the village. 

For a moment Mew was down in the lake, floating in the water and looking up at a sunny blue sky. 

The moment passed, and they were on Aster’s back again. 

When Mew took a good look at the Pokemon they saw, they realized nobody was in any rush. Even the Kecleon who worked here was relaxing: he didn’t make much of an effort at attracting customers, instead opting to rest his head on the booth’s counter and daydream. At first glance they seemed content, but as they walked through the plaza Mew spotted an odd look in some of their eyes. A few of the Pokemon seemed…haunted, almost. On edge. Looking for a danger that wasn’t there. It was the same look they sometimes saw in Aster’s eyes. 
Mew tapped the Treecko's shoulder to get his attention, then they pointed at the Audino on the pier. “What’s with her?”

“What do you mean?” 

“She looks…weird. It’s like she’s scared of something.” 

Aster came to a halt and stared at Audino for a few seconds. He turned his gaze to each of the Pokemon in turn. “They’re shaken,” he muttered, and started walking again. “Dark Matter started its string of petrifications right next to this village, after all, so I guess it makes sense.” 

“Are you shaken too?”

He was quiet for a few seconds as he carried them through the plaza. It wasn’t until they had come to a stop in front of the lake that he finally said, “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

Turning away from the water, he began to follow the path towards the bridge. As Mew looked on, a few of the Pokemon turned to look at them; they were whispering amongst themselves, though not maliciously. As Aster made his way out of the plaza and up the hill towards the houses. Mew could feel everyone’s gazes on the back of their neck. 

“The Pokemon back there seemed a little surprised to see you. How long have you been gone?” they asked.

“A few weeks,” he said, coming to a halt at the top of the hill. Without waiting for a response, he continued, “Looks like we arrived.” Before them stood two houses, one of them in significantly better condition than the other. 

Mew dared to hope that his house was the nice-looking one; their hopes were quickly dashed, however, as Aster strode towards the beaten up one. 

“This is where I used to stay, back when I lived here,” he said. The worn-down building he referred to looked old and unmaintained: the windows were foggy and dust-covered; the green shingles on the roof were either chipped or missing entirely; and the bushes growing beneath the windows were withered and grey. 

As the two entered, Mew recoiled from the sickly sweet stench of rotting berries that hung in the air. “Yeesh, Aster! You lived like this?!” 

“Well, it wasn't always this messy.” He lifted Mew off of his head and let them float beside him, then dumped his bag next to the front door, sending thick clouds of dust into the air. His expression was empty. In a low, disappointed voice, he said, “It looks like the guy who owned this house hasn't been here in a long time.” 

Mew slowly sank to the filthy floorboards. Even a task as simple as floating was a struggle these days, so it was easier to rest on the floor while they processed what he said. They furrowed their brow. “Wait a sec. Whose house is this? You didn’t steal it, did you?”

“What? Of course not.” A little bit of life returned to his eyes as he turned to Mew. “This house used to belong to a Pokemon called Nuzleaf. He took me in, looked out for me. But then he…well, he left too.” 

“Like Vallea?” 

“Sort of. Actually, n-not really. He…” The Treecko awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, why don’t you take a load off, rest a bit? I’ve got a bedroom just down the hall you can use. In the meantime I’ll go say hello to my partner’s father, see how he’s doing.” 

Mew blanched at having to spend even more time lying around and doing nothing, especially in a place this disgusting. “Oh, come on! There’s no way I’m gonna waste the day sitting in bed! I wanna go out and meet people! Come on, pleeeaaase?” 

 “I—” He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes. “If I say no, you’ll just follow me anyways, won’t you?” 

“Yep!” 

Aster sighed. “Fine. Come on, then.” He picked Mew up again and set them on his shoulders, then stepped back outside, shutting the door behind him. His destination was the nice-looking house mere meters away—squat and wide, constructed from dark planks with a deep blue roof. He hesitated a moment before knocking once, quietly. “Mr. Carracosta?” he called. “Are you in there? It’s, uh, me. Aster. I know I sort of took off and ditched this place without saying anything, but, er…” Pulling on his scarf, he mumbled, “I’m back now, so…” 

No response. 

“Maybe he isn't home,” Mew said. They took off from his shoulders and floated down to the ground, where they took a look through the window. The curtains were open; inside, they saw a cleanly organized living room with a rocking chair in the corner, a desk with a stack of papers on it, and a few paintings hanging on the wall. A few dirty dishes lined the counter in the kitchen, but other than that there were no signs of any messes. Unlike Nuzleaf's old house, this one looked like somebody actually lived in it. 

“Where could he be?” Aster mused. “Maybe he’s at his orchard, or down by the café… Listen, Mew, how about you stay—”

“I’m not going anywhere. Wherever you go, you're taking me with you.” They folded their arms, daring him to disagree. 

“But I don’t even know where Mr. Carracosta is! Who knows how long it’ll take me to find him? If you come along you’ll only get even more exhausted.” 

“I don't think you’ll have to worry about that, child,” said a deep, unfamiliar voice. 

The Treecko whirled around to the slope behind him. Mew turned as well, only for a sharp pain to shoot through their skull and force their eyes shut. From behind squinted eyelids, they saw a dark, craggy shadow climbing up the hill towards them. They forced their eyes to open a little wider; the shadow sharpened to a stoic, stern-faced Pokemon with a blue, rocky shell and flippers that cradled a basket filled with berries of all colors. Carracosta’s face didn’t betray much emotion, but his voice was warm as he said, “It’s good to see you, Aster. I see you brought a friend?” 

“G-good afternoon,” Aster said. He stood rigidly, more tense than Mew had ever seen him before. “Listen, I’m really—”

“Don't just stand there, child. Help me out, will you?” Carracosta dumped the basket of berries into Aster's arms. He moved past him, opened the door, and gestured for them to enter. “You can put the basket on the kitchen—” 

Carracosta stopped when he spotted Mew. His eyes went wide and he gasped, stumbling back and leaning against the doorframe for support. “Is that…Vallea?” He took a few lumbering steps towards them only to come to a halt. He examined Mew closely. The surprise faded from his face, replaced by a mix of disappointment and sorrow. “No, it isn’t…”

Aster’s eyes flitted between Carracosta and Mew, his brow furrowed. Eventually, he said, “You said to put the basket in the kitchen, right?” 

“Er…yes,” Carracosta said, still staring at Mew. He waved vaguely in the direction of his house’s interior. “Just…put it on the kitchen table.” 

“Mhm.” Aster stepped through the doorway but paused, meeting Carracosta's eyes. He stood silently for a few seconds, then said, “I’m sorry for running away.”

Carracosta turned reluctantly from Mew and gave the Treecko a wan smile. “Don’t worry, child. I understand. There’s no shame in needing some space.”

The Treecko looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he moved further into the house, leaving Mew alone with Carracosta. 

“Apologies, child. I must be getting old,” Carracosta said, chuckling lightly. “What is your name?” 

“I’m Mew! It’s nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure is all…” Carracosta stopped, his eyes narrowed. “Hold on a moment. Are you the Mew? The one who Aster said was—”

“They don’t remember anything,” Aster shouted from inside. He was already in the kitchen, the basket safely on the table. “They’re like me.”

“Hm…” Carracosta narrowed his eyes at Mew. “Has the Expedition Society found a way to restore your memories?”

“Nope,” Mew said. 

“What a shame. I can’t imagine not knowing anything about my past.” He shook his head, then beckoned them inside. “Come in, come in.”

Mew entered the house, though they were thoroughly confused by what was happening. Several questions about Carracosta, Vallea, and their memories whirled around their mind. As they made their way through the living room and to the kitchen, they asked, “Do I look like Vallea?” 

“No,” Carracosta said as he shut the front door with a groan of effort. “Frankly, you two look nothing alike. As I said, I’m simply getting old.”

Mew was feeling exhausted again, so they sat down in one of the chairs in the kitchen. Aster gave them an oddly longing look, but didn't comment. Instead, he said, “So, Mr. Carracosta? How have you been doing?”

“Eh…” Carracosta made a motion that looked like a shrug, but it was hard to tell when he had a shell instead of shoulders. “I’ve managed. I will admit it was difficult at first, but the people here have been good to me. It’s gotten easier than it used to be.” He stepped into the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and pulled out a few jars of ingredients. “At any rate, I was planning to prepare a honey cake for Roselia before you two arrived. She’s fallen sick again, so she could use a pick-me-up. Would you two like to help?” 

Aster opened his mouth, but a loud, frantic knocking on the front door cut him off. 

“That's strange,” Carracosta said. He set the jars onto the counter and lumbered towards the door. “I don’t normally get this many unannounced guests in one day.” 

He opened the door, and from behind him Mew spotted a trace of bright green fur and pointed ears. “Is Aster here?” said the Pokemon who’d been knocking. “We need his help.” 

“Hello, Deerling. Yes, he’s in the kitchen.” Sarcasm tinged his voice as he continued, “Is anyone else going to come visit? If so, I really should start preparing a little feast for all the guests—” 

“No, just me! Now can I please see him?!” Without waiting for a response, Deerling pushed past Carracosta and barged into the house—only to come to a halt when she saw Mew. “Oh,” she said. “Hi. I haven't seen you before.” 

Deerling smelled of flowers and pollen, which was oddly funny when compared to her brash attitude. What made it even funnier was Carracosta standing by the door, puffing his chest up like he was about to go on a tirade. Mew smiled at that. “I would introduce myself, but it looks like you're in a bit of a hurry, right?” they said. 

“What do you need help with? A lost item? A rescue mission?” Aster said, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“It’s a long story,” Deerling said, “but basically, Pancham decided to take Goomy into the Foreboding Forest yesterday. Nobody knows why, and they haven't come back yet.”

“I see.”

“So can you help? I thought since you’re back in the village, it might be a good time to ask.” 

“Actually, when I think about it—now isn’t a good time for anything. I gotta look after this kid. They’re sick,” he said, gesturing at Mew. 

“But…Pancham and Goomy need help!” Deerling scowled at him. “I thought your job is to rescue Pokemon!” 

Mew winced at the sudden rise in her voice, their ears ringing and their head spinning. As the conversation continued, they lay their head down on the table, shut their eyes, and covered their ears. The voices in the room grew muffled, but not so much that they couldn't make out what everyone was saying. 

“My job is to help those who need it,” Aster was saying in an even tone. “Right now Mew needs it. Besides, you’re pretty tough. Why can’t you go find them?” 

“I would go searching, but I don’t want to go alone. Who knows what could be in there?” Deerling said. 

“Then get someone else to tag along. Like Espurr.” 

“Espurr’s been gone for weeks. She went on a trip to the…Sand Continent, I think? Apparently she's searching for someone. And nobody else wants to go, not even Magnezone! He told me he needs to call for backup, but I think that’s just an excuse he made up,” she said. 

“Well—” Aster started, but she kept going. 

“And I bet I’ll feel a lot better going through that Mystery Dungeon if an Expedition Society member is with me.” 

“Like I said—”

“I can look after Mew,” Carracosta cut in. 

Mew opened their eyes to find the Treecko looking at Carracosta, who was already busy at the counter pouring ingredients into a bowl. Aster said, “Are you sure? I don’t want to burden you.”

“It’ll be no trouble,” Carracosta said grumpily, waving a spoon vaguely in the direction of the door. “Go, child. Find them.” 

“Well…what about you, Mew?” Aster turned to them. “Are you okay with staying here for a little while? I know you said you don’t want to waste your time sitting around…” 

“Eh…” Mew shrugged, placing their chin onto the table. “I feel like I won’t be that much help on this rescue mission. If I come, I’ll just get in the way. And I guess I could use a break from all that travelling.” 

The Treecko sighed, then nodded to Deerling. “Okay. Lead the way.”

Deerling rushed out with a hurried “Goodbye,” and Aster followed her to the front door. After one last worried glance at Mew, he stepped out and shut the door behind him. The house fell silent in their absence, the only sounds being that of Carracosta mixing the batter in a bowl and muttering to himself. 

“So, you’re sick?” Carracosta eventually said. 

Mew quirked their brow. “…Yeah.” 

“That’s a shame. You should rest; it’ll help you feel better.” 

“I am resting,” they said with a laugh. 

“Oh.” He mixed harder. “Good.” 

As they sat idly at the table, Mew found that they were able to think again in the absence of Deerling’s commotion. That wasn’t a good thing. As they looked around the house, they saw themself running and jumping and playing on every inch of this floor. They saw years spent growing up and dreaming and laughing; they felt the sorrow at saying goodbye and the joy of leaving. None of it made sense. None of it was recognizable. Every time they blinked they saw something new. 

“The nerve of that Deerling,” Carracosta was grumbling. “I understand the circumstances are stressful, but that’s no excuse to behave the way she did. Anyone with an ounce of self-awareness would know how rude it is to push into someone’s house uninvited.” 

Mew tried to respond, but a thousand voices began yelling into their ears about decorum and behavior. The racket was deafening. They scrunched their eyes shut and covered their ears, but the voices didn't get any quieter. It took several seconds for the phantom shouting to dissipate, and by the time it did they were pretty sure they’d lost their hearing entirely, except they could still hear the creaking of a chair as it slid against the floor. 

“Are you feeling well, Mew?” Carracosta said. They looked up to find that he now sat across the table from them. “You look a bit faint.” 

“Um…I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? Maybe it would be best for you to lie down. Come.” Without waiting for an answer, he scooped Mew up out of the chair and carried them out of the kitchen and down a hallway they hadn’t noticed before. One of the doors on the left was slightly ajar; they caught a glimpse of a dusty floor and a bed that hadn’t been used in months because she was gone gone gone—

The urge to enter that room seized Mew. It was absolutely vital that they see what’s inside. They slipped out of Carracosta’s flippers and floated towards the door. “Hold on. Where are you going?” he was saying, but they had already pushed open the door and entered the bedroom. 
It felt like they had finally come home, even though nothing they saw was remotely recognizable. There was an unfamiliar straw bed and a desk, both covered in a thick layer of dust, and a cracked wooden chest sitting in the corner. A bookshelf storing thick textbooks and books full of stories stood next to the chest, though it was covered in dust too. But the maps! There were so many of them! Maps covering the floor, lying on the desk, surrounding the bed, pinned on the walls, overflowing out of the chest. Someone had clearly lived in this place once, though it seemed there hadn’t been anybody in this room for months—months? Wow, had it really been that long since she was last here? The room was practically caked in dust! Pops must be losing his mind at all this filth—

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Mew?!” 

Carracosta’s indignant voice sounded off, loud as a ringing bell, and Mew's stomach churned as the world spun beneath them, and—

And she just wants to go home. 

“This room is familiar,” they said shakily. “It feels like I’ve been here before.” 

“Familiar or not, you shouldn't barge through other people’s houses! Who raised you?!”

“…Nobody, really. I don't think I have any parents.” They turned back to Carracosta, who bore an expression of mixed annoyance and panic. “But…you were really strict, weren't you? You’d always give these long lectures whenever Vallea did something wrong, and she never really managed to pay attention—”

They cut themself off when they realized what they were saying. There was no way for them to know how Carracosta treated his child, or how his child felt about those lectures which stretched on for what felt like hours, though they probably weren’t more than a few minutes. Something wasn’t right. 

A little voice in the back of Mew’s head kept saying they’d lost something important here. They floated around the bedroom, gazing at the desk and books and maps that were now horribly familiar. Whoever the creator of the maps was, they'd drawn out segments of the village and the forests and mountains surrounding it. The books were technically the library’s property, though they’d never been properly returned, and the desk had been a gift from Raticate—how was he, anyways? Was he still working on that wooden carving of his? She really had no idea what the carving was supposed to be, though Raticate insisted that—

“This was my child’s room,” Carracosta said. His solemn voice forced Mew’s thoughts back to reality, back to the bedroom that wasn’t theirs. He was a stranger to them, but they still couldn’t bear to see him hurting. “I…haven't been here since she disappeared.” 

“What was she like?” Mew asked, though they had a feeling they knew the answer already. 

“Stubborn. Brave. Ambitious.” He fell silent for a second, then said another word almost too quietly for them to hear. “Inscrutable. I never quite understood her as well as I should have.” 

“She loved you,” they said. 

She still does. 

Their mind felt as though it were split in two. One part wanted to get out of here as fast as it could and never come back. The other part needed to stay here and make everything right again. From somewhere far away, Mew was aware of Carracosta calling out to them as they fell down, down, back into the shadows. They couldn’t reply. 

In the end, neither side won. 

When Mew opened their eyes, they thought they saw a starry night sky, constellations woven into the dark emptiness above them. Then they blinked, and the sky turned into a deep blue ceiling with cobwebs lining the corners. They sat up and took a look around. Mew sat on an old bed similar to the one in their room in the Expedition Society; the room itself was spartan, decorated with little more than a desk and a chair. Black clouds loomed through the foggy window, the sky darkened by nightfall. The door was shut, muffled voices seeping in through the wood, and the air smelled faintly of sweet berries and something baking. At a guess, Mew would say they were in Carracosta’s bedroom—the place seemed too well-maintained to be Nuzleaf's house, and Carracosta had said earlier that he was baking a cake for somebody, which would explain the smell. 

Mew floated a few centimetres off the ground, though not without difficulty, and approached the door. The voices became clearer as they got closer—they belonged to Carracosta and Aster as they spoke in the hallway. 

“I don't know what happened. They were fine at first,” Carracosta was saying. “But then their condition kept worsening, and they eventually fell unconscious.” 

“How long have they been out?” 

“It happened shortly after you left, so at least a few hours.” 

Silence filled the hallway, followed by the door hinges creaking as a familiar Treecko peeked into the bedroom. His eyes were wide in worry, but he quickly let out a sigh of relief when he saw that Mew was awake and alert. “How are you feeling?” he asked. 

Mew didn't know how to answer that. On the one hand, their mind was clear again and the intrusive thoughts were gone for the time being. On the other hand, whatever had happened to them had sapped them of their strength, leaving them exhausted like they’d just come back from a strenuous expedition. 

Eventually, they muttered, “Tired.” It was the truth. Then, “Did you find the lost Pokemon? Are they hurt?” 

 “Don’t worry, we found them.” Aster stepped over, his face framed in shadow, and gently lifted them in his arms. “I reckon you would’ve loved the Foreboding Forest. I’ll take you there tomorrow, what do you say?"

 “…Yeah. That sounds nice.”

“Let’s go home,” he said. They didn’t know what he meant by home—was it Nuzleaf's house? Carracosta’s? The Expedition Society? Or maybe even Mystery Jungle? 

As Aster stepped past, Carracosta gazed at Mew with an odd expression on his face. Disappointment, or else longing. “Get well soon,” he said. The sentiment was nice, but Mew was beginning to think they’d never get better. These unknown thoughts and memories were only growing more severe. Coming to this village had been a mistake. 

When the two stepped outside, it quickly became clear what Aster meant by home: he was heading towards Nuzleaf’s house. From the top of the hill they could see the night gently enveloping the houses and paths, rendering them little more than silhouettes with golden windows shining little spotlights onto the grass. The plaza and paths were empty, leaving the village almost totally silent except for the tree branches whispering as they rustled in the wind. In the absence of daylight, Mew could open their eyes fully and look up at the dark, low clouds. A declaration came to their mind: I want to be like those clouds. They didn’t know who’d said it, only that it was important. 

In the distance they spotted a huge green hill with an ancient, gnarled tree towering over it. That hill. It was important. They needed to go there right now right now right now please they need to go she needs to get over there and fix everything— 

Mew slipped out of Aster's arms and pointed at the hill. “Can we go there?” they asked. 

“…What? Go where?” The Treecko squinted at where they were pointing. A gasp escaped him when he spotted the hill. “Why…do you want to go to that hill in particular?”

“It seems nice. And I bet we’ll get a great view of the village from the top.”

He sucked in a long breath through clenched teeth. “Fine,” he said. “But we won’t stay for long.” 

It took Aster and Mew far too long to reach the top of the hill, even though the hill itself wasn’t all that big. Mew struggled to find the stamina to scale the slope dotted with patchy grass and lilies, while Aster kept coming to a halt and staring blankly into space, his breathing shaky and uneven. But when they finally climbed all the way up, Mew decided it was all worth it. 

“Wow, what a place!” they exclaimed. From up here they could see the whole village! Every single house, path, bridge, and field fit between a river and a set of sharp, snowy mountains off in the distance. If they squinted they could almost see a field of rolling hills and crops far away. They took a moment to just look down at the sight, moving their gaze from one horizon to the other. When they came to Carracosta’s house, however, they lingered. The longing from the bedroom came up again, stronger this time. A part of them wanted to stay here with him and put an end to his suffering because she would finally come home—

“Mew?” Aster said.

“Uh, w-what’s up?” they said in their best imitation of lightness.

“You’re…crying.”

“I am?” Mew touched their face and found it to be wet. “Huh. I…I guess I am. But I don’t feel sad! Or at least I don’t think I do…” They wiped the tears away, but more came to take their place; soon they were weeping in earnest even though they had no real reason to be. Unless…

“You know, this is where it happened,” Aster murmured, his eyes glassy. He pointed at a patch of grass not far from where they sat. “She…vanished. Right there.”

Mew wondered how it would feel to know someone, to trust them with your life, only to watch as they left you behind. They wondered how it would feel to frolic and laugh and relish the sunlight one day, and then cease to exist the next. As they looked at the site of Vallea's disappearance, the same regret from their trip to the Sunbathed Garden reared its ugly head. Mew knew they’d done nothing wrong. There was no reason to feel this way. 

But they did. Something wasn't right. 

“Aster?” they asked. 

“What is it?” 

“I’m sick because there’s a piece of Dark Matter stuck in me, right?” 

“That’s what Xatu says,” he murmured. 

It took Mew a minute to figure out how to word their question. Sitting up here on the hill they felt dizzier than they ever had before, and a deep anxiety with no clear cause chilled their heart and shook their limbs. “Did Dark Matter care about this village?” 

“I…don't think so.” He squinted at them. “Why do you ask?” 

“Aster,” they said, and swallowed. “I don't know what’s going on with me, but I don’t think—” 

Whatever they were going to say was cut short by a sudden blow to the back of their head. They fell face-first onto the grass as consciousness slipped out of reach. 

Chapter Text

Mew awoke to the sound of rolling waves and the smell of salt in the air. For a fleeting moment they thought they were back at Lively Town, and a sweet relief washed over them; but when they opened their eyes, the sight before them crushed that hope. They lay on a grey, rocky cliff with a steep drop before them. Mew lifted up off the ground, floated over the cliff’s edge, and spotted the dark blue ocean hundreds of meters below them. Opaque waves foamed and crashed against a set of sharp, jagged rocks jutting out from the water. The sun was setting on the crimson horizon, the last remnants of its light reflecting off of the ocean as a fierce, shrieking wind blew through their fur. It was cold, colder than Mew had ever felt before. Just where were they? 

A set of unfamiliar voices was speaking behind them. Mew turned and spotted four unknown Pokemon: one looked to be made out of wood with a large leaf sticking out of their head; the other three were identical and metallic, floating above the ground with flashing lights stuck on the ends of their arms. None of them had noticed Mew yet. They were gathered before a grim, snow-capped mountain that had a dark, gloomy cave entrance at its base. 

Back in Serene Village, someone had attacked Mew on that hill and taken them here while they had been unconscious. No other Pokemon could be seen anywhere nearby. It was only logical, then, to conclude that those four Pokemon were responsible for kidnapping them. The edges of Mew’s vision grew muddier as their breathing started to shake. 

“Hey!” Mew shouted—and fell to the ground, suddenly light-headed. The Pokemon swiveled to face them. The wooden one’s mouth fell open in surprise, while the other three’s expressions were unreadable. They all started moving across the cliff towards Mew, who made no move to get up—that would take too much time. Instead, Mew flicked their paw once, and with their psychic power they sent the wooden one careening into the air, arms and legs flailing. As that one plummeted to the rock-hard ground, Mew pushed the other three as far away as they could with a wall of pure force, sending them flying all the way to the cave entrance. 

That bought Mew enough time to shakily rise from the ground and get back into the air. They backed over the cliff’s edge and floated above the water, their heart beating a staccato rhythm against their chest. The Pokemon stood up, one by one, and slowly approached the cliff

side. The wooden one had his arms raised as he shouted, “We don’t want to hurt you!” 

“Yeah?” Mew scoffed. “If you don’t want to hurt me, how come you attacked me in Serene Village and dragged me here?!” 

The four Pokemon were at the cliff’s edge now. The three metal ones floated off of the side and towards Mew, whose limbs were starting to feel heavy from the exertion of using their powers. Their arms trembled—exhaustion or panic, they didn’t know. Nonetheless they raised their paws above their head, then slowly lowered them—the three floating ones plummeted straight down into the ocean, the result of Mew's will made a reality. To the wooden one, Mew hoarsely shouted, “Where’s Aster?! What have you done with him?!” 

The wooden Pokemon flinched at the Treecko’s name. A set of three splashes sounded off below them; the metal Pokemon rose out of the water and floated steadily upwards, no worse for wear save for a few sparks flying from beneath their metal skin. Their eyes were eerily blank, little more than a pair of narrow green bulbs with black dots lodged in them. “The Treecko is on his way here right now,” one of them said. Its voice was low and disjointed, not really forming sentences but rather stitching individual words together with no regard for intonation. “We know why you’re sick, Mew. Please, let us explain. Kidnapping you was necessary for Ampharos’ and Mawile’s plan.” 

Mew set up an invisible barrier that prevented the metal Pokemon from reaching them. Only once that was done did they say, “What do they have to do with this?” 

“They orchestrated this whole thing!” the wooden one shouted from the cliff. “They want it to look like you’re in danger so that the Harmony Scarves will do something to stop it!” 

Mew didn’t understand. The sounds of the ocean faded to nothing, replaced by a quiet roaring in the back of their head. The three metallic Pokemon floated to the edge of the barrier, their lights flashing as they beeped amongst themselves. After several seconds of this, one of them said, “You’re not sick because of Dark Matter, Mew. You're sick because a chain of reincarnations has gone wrong, and a second soul has taken up residence in your body.” 

It took Mew a second to realize what the Pokemon had said, and even then they only knew about half of the words it had used. The fear they felt faded a little, replaced by a familiar confusion. “I’m sick because of what?” 

“Nuzleaf knows more about it than we do,” the Pokemon said, gesturing towards the wooden one standing on the cliff. 

Nuzleaf. Mew had heard that name somewhere before, but their mind was too muddled to remember the details. 

The Pokemon gently touched the barrier, fingers flickering red and blue, and said, “Think of it this way: if we truly wanted to hurt you, we would have done so while you were unconscious. And if we were holding you hostage, we wouldn’t have left you unrestrained. No competent kidnapper would simply leave you alone on the cliff’s edge.” 

As much as Mew hated to admit it, that was a valid point. They didn’t take the barrier down, but they did approach the cliff where Nuzleaf stood. The barrier moved with them, forming a sphere that nobody could enter; it forced Nuzleaf to back away as Mew floated to solid ground and sat down before him. The effort of tossing them around had nearly sapped the last remnants of Mew's strength, but they couldn’t afford to show that, not while they weren’t sure of their intentions. 

“Start explaining,” Mew said, trying to sound intimidating. Judging by the annoyed look on Nuzleaf's face as he rubbed the bridge of his pointy nose, it didn't work. The other three Pokemon floated behind them, staring silently but making no move to break the barrier. 

“Okay, I reckon I don’t really get a lot of what Ampharos told me. It’s a load of ‘he said, she said’ slop,” Nuzleaf said. When he wasn’t shouting, he spoke with a lazy drawl. “But from what I do understand, you basically have two past lives. The first one was your original self that beat Dark Matter the first time. You know Dark Matter?”

Mew nodded. “Right, that apocalypse monster thingy. Ampharos told me about it. But what do you mean by ‘the first time’? I thought it only showed up once.” 

“Looks like Ampharos didn't tell you the whole story.” Nuzleaf sighed and sat down, his legs crossed beneath him. “Long story short, Dark Matter showed up several thousand years ago. You and the old human—”

“The old human?” 

“Let me finish, for cryin’ out loud,” he grumbled. “You and the old human stopped Dark Matter by destroying it. Unfortunately for y’all, breaking Dark Matter didn’t make a lick of difference—it was gone for the time being, but it would return eventually. So, bein’ a god and all, you decided to throw your spirit forward a few millennia to stop it again.” 

“Wait, I can do that?!” 

“I thought I told you to let me finish.” Nuzleaf shot them a glare. “Yes, you can do that. And you thought it’d be best to wipe your memories so that you wouldn’t make the same mistakes you did the first time. By making a whole new identity, you’d have a better chance at trying something new. The human wanted to come with you, so they reincarnated into a Treecko who took the name Aster. And you reincarnated into your second life: a Riolu who called herself Vallea.” 

Mew tilted their head. A whole swath of information had just been thrown at them—Aster was a reincarnation of a human, they had past lives, and the world had almost ended twice. Their mind had trouble keeping up with all of it, but one word stuck out to them: Vallea. There was that name again. Vallea this, Vallea that. They asked, “So this Vallea, did she pull it off? Did she stop Dark Matter for real this time?” 

“Yep. I still don't get how she managed it, but she did. Somethin’ about acceptin’ it as a part of the world, I think. Who would’ve thought the little brat had it in her?” He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief, his leaf swaying back and forth. “The original plan, apparently, was for Vallea to disappear once her job was done, and for you to come back like nothing had happened. But judging by your amnesia, that didn't exactly work out the way y’all had planned. You technically came back, but you may as well be a completely different person. And Vallea disappeared all right, but I reckon she’s not gone for good. The kid never was much of a quitter, not even while the world was ending. My guess is she didn’t want to vanish, so a little piece of her lives on in you.” 

“And…that’s why I’m sick?” 

“Exactly.”

Mew still wasn't sure of Nuzleaf’s intentions, but his explanation wasn’t entirely impossible. They pressed a paw to their chest as though they could somehow feel Vallea's presence in there. The more they thought about it, the more it made sense: the unfamiliar memories, the flashbacks, the way they sometimes lost themself in another life entirely. And since Serene Village had been her home, that might explain why going there had caused their sickness to worsen. It was her. She was the one responsible for this. A little bit of resentment built up beneath their heart, hard as a rock. 

And then a terrible thought came to them. 

What if nothing Mew had done was truly of their own volition? Following Aster, joining the Expedition Society, their excitement at visiting Serene Village—what if that was all Vallea? What if they had only done all that because the piece of Vallea inside them had wanted to? The idea that someone else was influencing their actions terrified them. How could they tell where their own thoughts ended and Vallea’s began? What if everything they were thinking right now was—

No. They couldn’t let their thoughts go down that road, not right now. They needed to focus on what was happening at this very moment. Mew took a shaky breath, feeling their heart rattle in their chest, and said, “How come she’s making me sick?” 

Nuzleaf shrugged. “Dunno. I doubt she’s doin’ it on purpose. Maybe she just wants to come back.” 

“Hmm…” Mew turned around to make sure none of the other Pokemon had any moves to attack. They hadn’t, so Mew rounded on Nuzleaf and said, “Okay, so that explains my illness. But what's that got to do with knocking me out and taking me to this place? Actually—where are we, anyways?” 

"We’re just outside a Mystery Dungeon by the name of Purifying Cave.“ Nuzleaf gestured behind him, towards the cave entrance shrouded in darkness. Within the mountain’s shadow it held a menacing aura, as though countless hostile Pokemon lurked in its depths just waiting for a chance to strike. Nuzleaf must have noticed how it intimidated Mew, because he said, ”Don't let the place scare you. Ampharos says it’s basically empty, so nothing’s gonna try us when we enter.“ 

“But why do we—”

“Why do we have to enter the cave?” He waited for Mew to nod, then continued, “Basically, we’re settin’ all this up to make it look like we’re gonna try to kill you. We want to freak Aster out.” 

Mew stared blankly, lost for words. 

“Now I know that sounds bad, but it’s all to trick that fancy scarf of his into making some magic happen. If we get him scared enough, the scarf will activate, and apparently it’ll fix you.” He shrugged again, wearing a tired smile. “Ampharos says it’ll even bring Vallea back. Wouldn’t that be real nice?” 

A magic scarf fixing what was wrong with Mew…was that even possible? If they could manage to pull it off, then maybe Mew’s body and mind would be fully their own. It sounded a lot better than Xatu’s plan of sitting around and waiting for something to happen, but… “I’m still not sure if I can trust you or not,” Mew said. 

Nuzleaf nodded, his eyes shadowed. “Can’t say I blame you. To be quite frank, I don’t really trust myself either. Got a bad habit of messin’ things up for the folks I love. But I reckon what Ampharos told me was the truth. Do you trust him?” 

“…Yeah. I don’t think he’s a bad person.” 

“Then you don’t have to trust me. Or any of us, really,” Nuzleaf said, gesturing towards the Pokemon floating behind Mew. “Trust Ampharos instead, and go along with his plan. If everything works out the way we think it will, you’ll walk out of that cave good as new.” 

Regardless of what Nuzleaf said, Mew knew they didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. What would Aster do right now? Mew exhaled slowly, trying to slow their heartbeat, and made an attempt at thinking through the facts of their situation. They were alone among unfamiliar Pokemon, and they weren’t sure they could take all of them on in a prolonged fight; they could throw them around some, sure, but eventually their sickness would catch up with them. Should Mew say no, Nuzleaf and the others would probably try to convince them, but they had shown a tendency towards violence back in Serene Village. Who was to say they wouldn't try it again? All Mew could do right now was make the best of a bad situation, and if that meant going along with a plan that was possibly a lie, then so be it. 

“Okay,” Mew said. “Count me in.” 

They blew out another breath, then recalled the barrier. Their shoulders tensed instinctively, expecting the floating Pokemon to attack them immediately, but nothing touched them save for the salty wind and cold ocean mist. One of the Pokemon hovered over and extended a flickering hand towards Mew. Framed by the dark crimson horizon, its colorful lights seemed to shine brighter than ever. Up close its eyes didn't look so blank or emotionless; it looked almost regretful. “I would like to apologize for that business in Serene Village,” it—no, she said.

“We had to make it look realistic. Mawile says the Harmony Scarves won’t do anything unless the wearers think they’re in legitimate danger, so we had to keep this a secret from your friend.” 

Mew reached for her hand, hesitated and pulled back, and finally took it and let her pull them up. “Uh…what’s your name?” 

“Beheeyem,” she replied. 

The other two, both male, chorused, “We are all Beheeyem.” 

“Beheeyem, huh? Well…it’s nice to meet you, I suppose,” Mew said, a little reluctantly. 

But the three Beheeyem all looked so apologetic, heads bowed and their hands shining a solid blue, that Mew couldn’t help but feel a little endeared towards them. Mew sighed, and continued, “And if this thing at the cave is really gonna help me, then I guess I can’t be all that mad at you guys.” 

“Thank you,” said the first Beheeyem, brightening up considerably. “Will you need assistance during our travel? I’m capable of lifting things telekinetically, so—” 

“Nope! No thank you,” Mew cut her off. As apologetic as she was, they weren't about to give up their movement to her. “I can float fine, thanks.” 

Her fingers flashed green once, but she made no comment. Nuzleaf, who had been watching their introductions in silence, finally stood up with a grumble and a few creaking joints. “Well, glad that’s all sorted away. We should get a move on, get into position.” He pointed towards the cave entrance, now nearly indistinguishable from the mountain’s base in the night’s darkness. “Ampharos and Mawile want us deep in the cave so it’ll seem more legitimate. We’re actually supposed to be halfway there right now, so we’d better get goin'. All this yapping slowed us down.”

With that, Nuzleaf set off towards the cave at a brisk pace. He snapped once, and a green sphere of light popped into existence above his hand; it was just like the spheres Aster had used to protect them in the Odd Field. He cradled it in his palm and used it to light the way. The Beheeyem followed silently, their eyes and fingers flickering red, green, and blue. Keeping them in their vision, Mew lifted themself slowly and set off after them, making sure to keep a good distance away. 
After all, one could never be too careful in a Mystery Dungeon. 

And what a dungeon it was. Purifying Cave was a place unlike anything Mew had ever seen before. The Mystery Dungeon’s aquamarine tunnels and carved walls led far beneath the earth, below the mountain and the ocean. The place didn’t look natural: the walls, floors, and ceilings were constructed from light-blue bricks with unrecognizable writings and symbols etched into them. At some point in the distant past, these tunnels must have housed countless Pokemon—tables and chairs and beds dotted the floors, left to decay beneath the surface. In the absence of Pokemon the place had been left to form a Mystery Dungeon, one that mutilated and deformed itself when no one was looking. Deep, low rumbles echoed from above the ceiling—probably the ocean water flowing to and fro, crashing into the artificial constructions. Nuzleaf and the three Beheeyem led the way, guiding Mew through a seemingly endless amount of pitch-black halls and rooms with nothing but his pale green light to see with. 

Despite what Nuzleaf had said earlier, there were in fact Pokemon living in the dungeon; much like the other Pokemon inhabiting Mystery Dungeons, these ones weren’t all that welcoming to invaders of their home, and they expressed their territorial tendencies through violence. Nuzleaf and the Beheeyem fought them off, shielding Mew with storms of sharp leaves and psychic blasts as they advanced. Whenever they weren’t in danger Mew tried to take in as much of the cave as they could, their eyes wide as they stared in awe at the dungeon’s interior. 

“Who do you think built this place?” Mew asked during one of the quieter moments. They turned their head, expecting to find Aster by their side—only to remember he wasn’t there. The sense of wonder faded, replaced by dread weighing in their lungs. “Actually, um, how long will it take for Aster and the others to get here?” 

Nuzleaf came to a halt and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, his light flickering slightly. “Knowing Aster, he’s probably so freaked out at your disappearance that he swam across half the ocean already. If he’s traveling by the Lapras Liner…he should be arriving soon.” 

“What about Ampharos and Mawile? You said they were involved in this, right?”

“As for those two, they told us to meet them in the dungeon’s central chamber. Apparently it’s the only part of this place that never changes its location. I don’t know how they plan to get there in time, but they do have the help of Xatu. You remember him?” 

A Pokemon came to mind—expressionless eyes, narrow beak, wings held close against the body. “Yeah, I know him. He’s the one who told me Dark Matter is making me sick,” Mew said. Then, “Is he in on this?” 

“Yep.” 

“Of course he is,” Mew grumbled. “Feels like everyone knew about this plan except me.” 

Nuzleaf chuckled, though it was laced with bitterness. “Well, what can I say? We’re trying to control forces beyond our comprehension. Our plan was always bound to be a bit…wonky.” 

One of the Beheeyem stopped and stared into the darkness, her eyes glowing faintly. “We’re getting close!” she said, and darted forward into the shadows. In a matter of seconds she was nothing but a little speck of light in the distance. Nuzleaf and the other two Beheeyem exchanged bemused looks, then followed her silently. 

Mew brought up the rear, though it was a struggle: they could barely float more than a few centimeters above the ground, and their speed was a fraction of what it had used to be. And they couldn't quite focus on what they were doing. There was something oddly familiar about Nuzleaf—whenever they looked at him they felt a curious mixture of dread, pity, and regret that didn't have a clear cause. Probably Vallea messing up their thoughts again. Unbidden, the terrible thought rose to the forefront of their mind. But they couldn't let themself think about that, not yet. First wait and see where this plan was going, then let the existential dread set in. 

Mew hovered up to Nuzleaf’s side and asked, “Did you know her? Vallea, I mean.” 

Nuzleaf furrowed his brow and stared down at the algae-covered bricks, tossing his ball of light back and forth between his hands as he walked. After several seconds of this he said, “I knew her all right. We used to live in the same village. Uh…one day my next door neighbor strolled on by with a little bundle in his flippers—that was her when she was just a little baby. Never thought Old Man Carracosta would ever get a kid, but there she was.” 

Mew thought back to Serene Village and how lonely Carracosta had seemed in his empty, dusty house. The more they considered it, the more they realized the reincarnation plan was flawed from the start. By giving Vallea a full life to live, they’d only given her the chance to form enough of a distinct identity to mess it all up. Especially when she had her old Pops to annoy, and friends to make, and a dream to chase. It really was a fun life, and she’d love to—

“It’s happening again,” Mew said shakily. They sunk to the ground and clutched their head in a futile effort to dull the pain shooting through their skull. Their vision flashed between conflicting images—one moment they were in the dark cave with the hallway stretching out before them, the next they were running through a forest, their gaze set on a massive, dying tree high above them. They scrunched their eyes shut and covered their ears. “Stop it,” they muttered, to whom they didn’t know. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” 

Water dripping from the ceiling. The green, blue, and red lights glowing against the darkness. The stench of stagnant water. Mew clung to these lifelines, to the proof that they were here, they knew who they were. Beneath the pain and focus keeping them awake, fear lurked. They were vulnerable in their current condition. Nuzleaf and the Beheeyems could do whatever they wanted, and Mew would be powerless to stop it. 

But nothing happened. 

Soon, after what felt like hours, it faded. Mew was back in the cave again. Nuzleaf was crouched down in front of them, the two Beheeyem looming behind him like ghosts. He was saying something; they had to concentrate to make out the words. 

“You okay?” 

Mew swallowed back a wave of nausea. They waited a moment for the dizziness to fade, then floated off the ground and motioned to keep moving. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go. You were saying something about Carracosta bringing a kid home?”

“Well…” As he walked, Nuzleaf tossed his green sphere up and down in one hand. “Next thing you know, she’s runnin’ around the village causin’ all sorts of trouble. The kid went and broke my mailbox, for cryin’ out loud.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Though I reckon she wasn’t all that bad, considering how she became friends with my so—” He cut himself off, the smile falling from his face like a mask. His eyes closed and he came to a halt. “…with Aster.” 

One of the Beheeyem patted Nuzleaf’s back and whispered something Mew couldn’t hear.

“Wait a minute,” Mew said. “Aster mentioned you a couple of times. He said you left him.” 

Nuzleaf inhaled slowly. He exhaled. He opened his eyes. He said, “Yeah. I left. And it was for the best.” 

Before Mew could come up with another question, he continued, “We really oughta move our tails. We gotta get you in the chamber and ready for whatever’s gonna happen.” With that, he set off again down the shadowed hallway, the ocean roaring from somewhere high above them. Mew and the Beheeyem followed, and they soon noticed a little blue light glowing in the distance; over the course of a few minutes the light grew into a large room that looked a lot less artificial than the rest of the dungeon. Mew and the others exited the dark hallway into a room consisting of a blue island surrounded on all sides by fresh water; bright green water lilies dotted the lake’s surface, thriving despite the lack of sunlight. The room was brightly lit, though there were no lamps or candles to make it so. The only light was a crackling ball of electricity that hovered just below the ceiling and shone a golden light onto the whole room. A small path connected the hallway to the island, and on the island stood Beheeyem, Ampharos, Mawile, and Xatu. 

For the first time that day, Mew felt true relief: Nuzleaf and the Beheeyem hadn’t been lying. This wasn't a trap. The tension in their shoulders steadily faded at seeing familiar faces. Mawile looked agitated, speaking to the Beheeyem in a raised voice while Xatu stared blankly at a wall. As Mew, Nuzleaf, and the Beheeyem approached, Ampharos spotted them; he grinned widely and waddled across the bridge towards them. 

“It's so wonderful to see you all!” he shouted—and slipped and fell into the lake, sending water flying in all directions. Mawile turned and noticed the situation; her agitation faded, replaced by a resigned exhaustion as she stepped over to pull him out of the water.

As she tried to drag Ampharos onto dry land, she said, “Glad you guys could make it. You’re just in time—Xatu says the kid will arrive in a minute.” The maw on the back of her head snapped irritably while she pulled, and then it sunk its fangs into a nearby boulder to give her a stronger foothold. Finally she pulled up Ampharos, who was sputtering and dripping everywhere. 

Ampharos coughed, wiped his face, and told Mew, “I’m sure you must have countless questions about, well, all of this.” 

“Yeah, I do! I’ve got loads! First of all, how did—” 

“I’m terribly sorry,” Ampharos cut them off, “but your questions will have to wait. Aster is almost here, and we need to make it look like you’re going to, well…” 

The Beheeyem who had previously run off approached them. “He wants us to pretend we’re going to destroy you,” she murmured in a low voice. “The boy with the scarf is afraid of us because of what we’ve done in the past, so seeing us will make him believe you’re in genuine danger.” 

“And when the wearer thinks they’re in danger, the scarf activates,” Mawile said with an air of self-satisfaction. She turned and shouted, “Xatu! It’s time.” 

Xatu blinked once, distracted from whatever he was thinking about, then turned to Mew like he had just noticed their presence. He walked slowly across the island, every step carefully measured and precise, never once breaking eye contact with Mew. Mew was tempted to ask him how much he knew about all of this, but then footsteps sounded off from the hallway opposite from them. A hoarse, ghostly voice shouted something—it was Aster! He was coming! 

The next few seconds passed in a blur: Mawile was gasping sharply; Nuzleaf was sighing in resignation; the Beheeyem were beeping and flashing amongst themselves; Ampharos was doing something to the ball of electricity. All the while Xatu stared at Mew, and suddenly their eyes closed of their own volition while the noises of the cave faded to nothing. 

Warm spring moonlight. A breeze scented with daisies and sunflowers. A lone hill overlooking the sleepy village. 

And a promise to make. 

“Alright.” She nods resolutely, her shoulders squared. After a deep breath, she tells him, “I’ve decided. I want you…to be my friend!” 

He tilts his head but makes no comment. 

“It gets lonely when no one believes in you or what you have to say,” she continues. That feeling is all too familiar to her, and she’s seen it in him too. “But if you have just one friend who believes in you, then you’ll be able to do anything.” 

Seconds pass in silence. Her heart pounds away at her ribs, and the night’s wind feels much chillier than it did a few seconds ago. She hasn’t the faintest idea how he’ll respond, or if he even will. Maybe he’ll just stare silently, eyes blank, and then walk away and leave her there. 

She swallows hard. “So…be my friend. I mean please. Please be my friend. No, that’s not it either…sorry.” Resisting the urge to cringe, she takes a second to think through her words. “…I really hope we can be friends.” 

He opens his mouth. Closes it. His gaze falls to the tulips as he rubs the back of his neck. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he says, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“I like you.” He kicks bashfully at the grass, paws clasped behind his back. “Let’s be friends.”

She stares dumbly, her mouth slightly open. “Really?! You'll really be my friend?!”

He meets her eyes and nods. 

“Yes!” She leaps into the air and pumps her fist, letting out a cheer. When she lands, she gasps as an idea comes to mind. “I’ve got it!” She rushes over to the tree’s roots and starts digging at the dirt beneath them, eventually unearthing a little wooden chest. Within it lie a pair of scarves, made from patterns of blue and green cloth. Grinning ear to ear, she hauls them out and holds one out to him. 

“I want you to have this!” 

She doesn’t know it yet, but these scarves symbolize something far greater than a friendship made in this life. They’re a memento of years gone by spent in each other’s company, years full of joy and laughter and tears. Years that have long been forgotten, abandoned, lost. 

He accepts the scarf, feels its fabric. A little smile reveals itself as he puts it on. She grins even wider at the sight, already wearing her own scarf. 

Dreams, regrets, connections. A desperate wish calling out for help. The scarves have one last miracle left in them. Only one obstacle stands in their way. 

All Mew needs to do is let go. 

And they do. 

The spring night, the village, the hill, they all disintegrate into tiny specks of dust that float up to the heavens. The ground falls apart beneath Mew, sending them plummeting into a bottomless abyss. Their heart snaps in two, their mind opens up, and the unfamiliar memories tear themselves free. The scarves vanish, the last of their energy spent, and a bright blue light now shines in the darkness. 

The scents of daisies and sunflowers fade, replaced by the familiar stench of salt water. 

Vallea is real again.

Consciousness returned to the Riolu in stages. First came her sight: a deep blue ceiling, golden sparks scattered across the stone surface like a starry night sky. Then, her touch: water droplets fell from the ceiling onto her, every drop leaving a cold sensation like frozen pins and needles. The humid, cool air smelled of algae and mold, and a sharp metallic taste filled her mouth. This was the dampest, smelliest cave Vallea had ever been in. She reveled in it. 

For a moment she lay there on her back, on the cold, hard ground, letting her senses function and feed her information. Her mind wasn’t falling apart the way it had been on that morning beneath the tree; she could think clearly again, free to feel who and what she was. The memories of her past life as Mew were gone, and in their stead came years spent in a quiet little village, the exhilaration of chasing her dreams, the relief when the world was safe once more. She soaked in these memories. 

Her reverie was cut short when she sensed several auras all trembling and twitching around her—signs of excitement or panic or dread, she couldn’t tell for sure. 

“Vallea?” said an all too familiar voice. Her heart skipped a beat. 

The Riolu lifted her head and looked around at her surroundings. Her gaze fell on a Treecko who stared at her with disbelief written all over his face, his eyes wide and his paws trembling. There were other Pokemon there too, some she knew and some she didn’t; she knew she was only back because of them. But they could wait. There was something she needed to do. Slowly, tentatively, she tested her legs to see if they could hold her weight; once satisfied, she stood up and met the Treecko's eyes. 

“Aster…” Vallea said in a scratchy voice. Her throat ached from the effort of speaking. “Looks like we meet again.” 

“Is it really you?” Aster whispered. He sounded hopeful but terrified, as though he expected her to vanish again at any moment. She wondered if she would. She wondered if this was even real, or if she was somehow hallucinating the cave, the people around her, and her own resurrection. 

The Treecko took a step closer. Then another. He stared at her, and she stared back. His lip quivered, his eyes shone, and his aura crashed down around him in waves like a forest falling all at once. 

The cave was silent and still, all the Pokemon ogling her like she had three heads. The Riolu decided she didn’t care if this was real or not. She had been standing there for less than a minute and she was already getting restless. She was tired of waiting for something to happen. Vallea strode towards her partner, only for her legs to suddenly give out beneath her and send her stumbling to the ground. Gasps rang out from the other Pokemon as exhaustion seeped into her entire body, her chest and arms and legs, and for a sickening moment she thought she was about to disappear again. But when she sat up and looked down at her body, it was whole and unharmed. No golden sparks. 

Someone took hold of her paw. It was Aster. Vallea let him pull her up, but he didn’t let go once she was standing. 

Instead, he pulled her closer and wrapped her in an embrace. He held on with shaky paws as though she would vanish the moment he let go. 

His breathing came in uneven gasps, and she could feel his heart hammering in his chest. She had asked him not to cry, but…maybe that hadn’t been entirely fair. There had been so much she’d wanted to tell him—tell everyone, really—on that terrible morning beneath the tree, but she hadn’t been able to force the words out. So instead she’d tried to express her desire to see him happy. Even now she felt the urge to say something—I’m sorry, or Thank you, or It’s going to be okay. 

But none of those words could ever fully encompass what Vallea was feeling as she stood there, alive once again, free to feel the water droplets on her head and smell the stenches of algae and mold. 

She hugged him back. 

Chapter Text

In the days following the engineered miracle at Purifying Cave, Mew wandered the weathered halls and messy rooms of the Expedition Society. They had no particular destination in mind as they drifted through the building; rather, they were curious about how the building itself had changed. It still held that lived-in aesthetic, worn equipment and furniture that bore the marks of use, but Mew didn’t see anything special about the place anymore. It was just a building where Pokemon worked. The jubilation Mew had felt when they had first joined the Expedition Society was gone, replaced by…nothing. No grins spread across their face, no excited laughter bubbled in their chest, and the urge to complete the Nexus was gone entirely. 

Maybe it wasn’t that the building had changed. Rather, maybe it was that Mew had. 

Their illness had vanished immediately after Vallea had returned, confirming the doubts festering within them: Dark Matter had never been the one making them sick. It had been Vallea all along. Mew’s fears from Purifying Cave only intensified once she returned, for they had been proven right: it was completely possible that nothing they had done after waking up in Mystery Jungle had been of their own volition. Behind every action they’d taken had been the influence of a completely different Pokemon, cajoling them to do the things she would want to do: follow Aster, join the Expedition Society, come to Serene Village. It had been like a little voice whispering in their ear, and now that the voice was gone, Mew didn’t know what to do anymore. Their mind felt blank, open, empty. 

They had spent weeks chasing a dream that wasn’t even theirs. 

Mew reached the Expedition Society’s front door, opened it, and went out into the chilly grey morning. The sky was covered in a solid layer of dark clouds, and a thick fog shrouded Lively Town and faded the colorful houses as though an artist had painted over their blue and red roofs with a translucent grey. Cold mist clung to their fur, and from the plaza drifted scents of wet boards and metal boxes and bread still hot from the oven. Mew didn’t go there, though. Instead, they followed the stone path across the grassy hill, down a set of rickety wooden stairs, and up to the old docks. Groups of Lapras swam around the small port, carrying cargo and Pokemon to and from all sorts of places across the ocean. 

With nothing but the Liner Pass in their room, Mew could get a ride back to Capim Town and return to Mystery Jungle. To their home, or at least the closest thing they had to one. They just didn’t know if that was what they really wanted. Was it worth leaving behind the friends they had? The life they’d made? And what would they do once they left? They didn’t know. 

On the end of the dock sat a familiar silhouette: round joints, pointy nose, and a long thin leaf growing from the top of the head. Nuzleaf, feet dangling over the water, stared out at the grey ocean waves that softly lapped at the dock’s wooden pillars. Mew sat down next to him. 

He gave them a slanted smile by way of greeting. “Afternoon, Mew. How’re you feelin’?” 

“Better, I think.” Mew returned his smile with one of their own. “Looks like the sickness is gone for good. Are you excited that Vallea’s back?” 

“Hm. Excited is one word for it. I’m happy she came back, don’t get me wrong, but I reckon I’m not exactly excited for her to start breaking my mailbox again!” he said with a wheezing laugh.  

“I see.” 

It was quiet for a time, the only sounds being the gentle waves whispering beneath the old boards and the Lapras singing to each other somewhere deep within the fog, a baleful but harmonious sound. The same worries from before reared their heads and consumed Mew’s thoughts once more, but they didn’t get far before Nuzleaf cleared his throat. He said, “I think I recognize that look on your face—I’ve seen it on the kids in Serene Village often enough. What’s bugging you?” 

Mew shook their head. “It's nothing. Just some stupid doubts I’ve been having.” 

“What doubts?” 

“I…” They trailed off and stared at the distant silhouettes of Pokemon swimming in the fog. They weren’t sure how to describe what they were feeling. “The decisions I’ve made so far…I guess I’m not sure how much of them were me, and how much of them were Vallea. I kept seeing her memories and feeling what she felt, so how can I know what I did was my own choice? Like, maybe she somehow made me do things I otherwise wouldn’t have. Do you know what I mean?” 

Nuzleaf chuckled, shaking his head. They had all spent the last couple of days resting after the ordeal in Purifying Cave, but he still looked tired. “I know all too well what that’s like. Feels like there’s a little voice whisperin’ in your ear, right? And you can’t help but listen to it.” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what that's like!” Mew gave him a concerned look. “Did something like that happen to you?”

“Mmm…yep. I done went and met Dark Matter, and then I lost control of myself. It had a habit of possessing Pokemon it met, y’see. Preyed on all that negativity in our hearts, exploited it so that we would do what it wanted us to.” He said it casually, but something dark lurked behind his eyes. “And I…I tried to end the world, even. Can you believe it? I nearly helped drag the planet into the sun. I reckon I oughta leave soon, or else I’ll go and ruin things for y’all again.” 

“How will you ruin anything? You’re not possessed anymore, are you?” 

“Well, no.” His pointy nose twitched as he stared into the grey waves. “But there’s gotta be a reason Dark Matter decided to possess me. I’ve got my fair share of negativity, and I’m not exactly the nicest Pokemon around these parts. Having me around can’t be a good thing for anyone.” 

Mew scoffed. “Nah, I don’t think that’s true. If you really were such a bad person, you wouldn’t be this worried about it!” 

They waited for a reply, but Nuzleaf had none to give. He just sat there wearing that tired smile, his hands resting in his lap like he wasn't sure what else to do with them. After a few seconds, Mew slid off the docks and floated above the water; it was boring just sitting there, and they needed to do something. Beneath the ocean’s surface swam loads of different Water-type Pokemon; Mew amused themself for a time looking down and trying to identify their species. Lumineon, Feebas, Basculin. Some of them stared back up, eyes narrowed like they didn't know what to make of the stranger floating above them. 

Eventually, Mew looked back up at Nuzleaf and asked, “The only reason you came here was to help bring Vallea back, right?” 

“Yep.” 

“So now that your job is done, what will you do?” 

“I’m not sure.” He sniffed, rubbed his nose, and continued, “Maybe I’ll ride one of these Lapras somewhere far away, to a place where nobody will find me. Or maybe I’ll head back to Serene Village, check up on the old digs. I ditched the place a few months ago, y’see, and I left a few friends behind. Besides, we’ll have to break the good news to Carracosta. I bet he’ll be jumpin’ with joy to see his little girl.” 

Mew had zoned out while he was talking, but his last sentence caught their attention. “Vallea's going to Serene Village?” 

“Of course she is! It’s her home after all, and she’s rarin’ to see her Pops again. Aster’s goin’ too. What about you?” 

Mew furrowed their brow. The idea of going to Serene Village didn't have the same allure it’d had last time, when Aster had proposed the trip. “Probably not,” they said. Then, “Actually, you’ve done a lot of travelling, right? Can I run an idea by you?” 

“Shoot.” 

“I…” They took a second to think through the best way to say what they were trying to say. “I’m not sure coming to the Expedition Society was my idea to begin with. Now that Vallea's back, I sort of feel like the map-making and Pokemon-saving business isn’t really for me. It seems a little repetitive, you know? You wake up, go somewhere, help someone, go to sleep, and repeat that process day after day.” 

“So what’re you gonna do instead?” Nuzleaf asked, but he had a knowing glint in his eyes. 

“I’m gonna leave.” The declaration came a lot more easily than Mew had expected it to; maybe this was what they had wanted to do all along. “I’ll head back to Mystery Jungle. It…it feels like that’s what I want to do.” 

They expected Nuzleaf to refuse, to try and convince them to stay a while longer, to really think about whether or not this was a good idea. To his credit, he didn't do any of that. Instead, he only shrugged and said, “Okay. Are you gonna let the others know, or is this departure supposed to be a secret?” 

“Oh. Right, I should probably tell them.” Mew floated back to the docks, their gaze set on the Expedition Society headquarters standing tall and proud atop the grassy hill. 

As they passed by, Nuzleaf outstretched his hand for them to shake. “Nice talking with you. Sorry again ‘bout the whole kidnappin’ business.” 

Mew shook it. “No worries. I hope your trip home goes okay.” 

“Ah, things have a habit of working out eventually.” He smiled, and it didn’t look quite so tired this time. “Good luck on your journey, kid.” 

The members of the Expedition Society took the news of Mew’s departure in different ways: Bunnelby nodded silently and went back to the letter he was reading; Dedenne, her eyes glinting, forced a solar-powered Expedition Gadget onto them in case they should ever need to contact the Society; Archen and Buizel gave them a few tips on surviving in Mystery Dungeons; Swirlix insisted they share one last meal with the Society before leaving; Mawile and Jirachi gave them an all-purpose encyclopedia detailing every possible subject they could think of (this would become Mew’s favorite book). Ampharos, wiping away a few tears, promised that if they ever needed to return for any reason, they would be welcomed with open arms. Privately, Mew doubted they would ever return to the Expedition Society, or even to Lively Town. The walls and roofs of the city now felt more like a trap than a home, and they were eager to go back to the open skies and fresh breeze of Mystery Jungle. 

Swirlix was adamant about Mew having dinner with the Society one last time before leaving, so that left them with around half an hour before she was finished cooking, enough time for them to visit Vallea and Aster. The two hadn’t once left their room (theirs now, not Mew’s) in the days since arriving, and Mew hadn’t been eager to disturb their reprieve; judging by what they’d heard about everything the two had endured, they thought the two deserved a break. The ritual combined with the weeks she had spent gone had sapped Vallea of her strength, leaving her near-comatose. The Riolu had fallen unconscious shortly after reuniting with Aster, and she’d spent the better part of the last few days asleep as her newly restored body recovered. 

Mew told themself that they avoided their bedroom to give the two some space. However, somewhere deep in their heart, they knew that wasn’t why they were staying away. 

As Mew floated through the grey, silent meeting room and into the residential wing, a hushed conversation drifted out from Aster’s and Vallea’s bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, quiet murmurs slipping out every few seconds. The closer Mew got to the room, the more intelligible the words became. 
“I’m fine, Aster. You don’t need to worry so much,” said an unfamiliar voice. No, it was Vallea. She sounded exhausted and gravelly, like she had a sore throat. 

“Are you sure?” Aster said. There was a pause, and then he said, “A-alright, I’ll drop it. I just…well, you know. This still feels unreal. I keep thinking this is all just a dream, and when I wake up you’ll be gone again.” 

She chuckled weakly. “Funny you should say that. I was thinking the same thing. It really does feel like a dream, doesn’t it?”

The conversation was private—too private. Mew knew they shouldn’t be listening in, but they didn’t want to interrupt the moment. Maybe they should find a place to wait, somewhere they wouldn't overhear anything that wasn’t meant for them. On the other hand, Mew had left them alone for several days now. Who knew how much longer this conversation would carry on for? They were, after all, catching up on several months of separation. Maybe they would still be talking by the time Mew left for Mystery Jungle. 

And they still needed to ask Vallea a question that lurked on the edge of their thoughts, that ate away at their mind and brought dread to their heart. 

“We should go talk to him,” Vallea said. 

Aster scoffed. “Why? You know what he did. And even if I wanted to talk to him, we don't know where he is.” 

“That's a lie,” she said with a chuckle. “We both know he’s in Lively Town.” 

There was silence for a few seconds. Then, he said, “After everything Nuzleaf did, do you really think he can be trusted? Maybe he's lying about being controlled, and he’s just waiting for the chance to attack again.” 

“I know he regrets what he’s done,” the Riolu said. “I can feel it. He hates himself. The last thing he needs is other people hating him too.” 

It was quiet for a long minute, the only noises being the ocean waves and gentle wind whispering through the wooden boards. Once Mew was completely sure the two were done talking, they gave the heavy door a good, loud knock. “Hey, it’s Mew. Can I come in?” they said. 

After a few seconds, Aster said, “Yeah, come in.”

They opened the door and found Vallea sitting in one of the beds, hugging her knees to her chest. Aster sat beside her and rested his head on her shoulder. The Riolu looked terrible, all shadowed eyes and slumped shoulders, but she grinned brightly when she saw Mew. “I heard you were sick. How are you feeling?” she asked in a weak voice. 

“I’m better now,” they replied, and Aster sighed in relief. The Treecko stood up and stepped closer to Mew to examine their face. He looked so weird without his scarf, though that was probably because they’d never seen him not wearing it. His eyes narrowed as he pressed the back of his paw to their forehead, presumably measuring their temperature. 

“No bouts of dizziness? No nausea? No headaches?” he asked. 

“Nope.” 

He nodded approvingly at that. “Good.” 

“Yeah, um, actually, about that sickness…” Mew fidgeted in place, grabbing their tail with both paws and twisting it. “Vallea, can I ask you something personal?” 

Vallea tilted her head, her aura tassels hanging limply. Her eyes went unfocused for a second; then she blinked and said, “Yeah, sure.”  

“What was it like when you were gone?”

The Riolu didn't respond at first. Her gaze drifted to the window; she looked even more tired (if that was possible) as she stared forlornly out at the monochrome sky. Aster sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her in a weak gesture of comfort. Her ears twitched once, and she said, “It was…a lot like being asleep, actually. I didn’t really know how much time was passing—days or months or years, it all felt the same to me. I can’t remember most of it, just like how it’s hard to remember what it’s like when you’re asleep.” 

She trailed off. Her partner was staring at her with a concerned expression. Mew floated a little closer, and said, “So that’s it? It was like a really long nap, then?” 

Vallea shook her head. “No, not exactly. Every so often, I’d see something like a dream. The places I saw were all hazy and blurry, but I still recognized some of them. Like the Expedition Society, or some of the Mystery Dungeons I’ve been to before.” Turning to smile at Aster, she told him, “You were there a lot of the time. It was nice seeing you.” But her smile quickly faded, replaced by a contemplative look. “Once, I even saw my home. I saw my Pops. He was…hurting. I wanted to go there so badly, but I couldn’t reach him. It felt like I was trying to swim against the tides—it was impossible.” 

Vallea hugged her knees to her chest, her breathing unsteady. Aster embraced her, and she closed her eyes and leaned into him. Mew’s heart dropped and their head spun—this time not from an illness, but from a horrid mixture of dread and vindication. Willingly or not, they’d had Vallea’s soul trapped inside of them and subjected her to the worst kind of torture: seeing the people and places she loved, and preventing her from actually reaching them. No wonder they had been sick, no wonder they had seen her memories and felt what she felt: she had been trying to come back all along, and her efforts had reshaped their desires and warped their ambitions. 

But however bad it felt for them, it likely felt just as horrible for her, if not worse. 

“I’m sorry,” Mew said. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.” 

“It’s not your fault. Nobody really knew this would happen when I disappeared,” Vallea said. The Riolu’s eyes went unfocused again as she looked at them; she sighed, gave her partner a smile, and pulled away from his hug. She stood up on shaky legs, took a moment to get her balance, and stepped towards Mew. Standing tall and steady, she placed her paws on their shoulders. “It’s really not your fault, so you shouldn't feel so guilty. Your aura’s all cold and slushy—it’s making me feel bad too, you know that?” 

Mew blinked at the statement. “What?” 

From where he sat, Aster chuckled. “Long story short, she’s an empath.” 

“Yep!” Vallea gave a crooked grin and placed her paws on her hips. “I can sense auras, which is a lot like feeling other Pokemon’s emotions.” 

Mew stared blankly, their mouth slightly open. Their gaze moved between Vallea and Aster like a metronome, back and forth and back again. To Aster, they said, “You didn’t tell me she could do that!” 

Aster chuckled again. “I know, it surprised me too the first time I saw it.” With a teasing lilt, he said, “So you’d better watch what you feel around her. She can see into your very soul.” 

Vallea stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m not that good at it! I just felt a little negativity coming from Mew, so I made an educated guess about what might be causing it!” 

“Ah, and here I was getting ready to compliment your aura-sensing skills. But I guess I should save my praise if you're not all that good,” he said, smirking. 

“Whoa, hold on! I never said I didn't want any praise!” She pushed him playfully as he laughed. Within seconds she was laughing too as she shouted, “Ugh, you're horrible! You know that? Horrible!” 

It was fascinating, Mew thought, how the presence of a single person could change someone so drastically. Aster had never teased them the way he did Vallea, and he had laughed only rarely in the time Mew had worked with him. But here he was, cackling as he tried to shield himself from Vallea's mock assault. When they thought about it, that wasn’t really much of a surprise: Vallea seemed like the type of person who lit up the lives of everyone around her. It made Mew feel a bit better about what they were going to tell them. 

They cleared their throat. “So I hear you two are going back to Serene Village?” 

The two paused in the middle of their shoving match; the Riolu had her partner in a headlock and was giving him a noogie, but he immediately took the opportunity to slip out from her grip. She snickered, then looked up at Mew and said, “Yeah, that’s right! Are you coming with?” 

Mew sucked in a breath. “No. Actually, uh, I…I’m leaving for Mystery Jungle.” 

“You’re leaving?” Aster said, rubbing the back of his head. He looked disappointed. “Why?” 

“I just…” They considered whether or not to share their reasoning with the two. After a moment’s deliberation, they decided not to. There was no point in burdening them with Mew’s worries; it wasn’t like either of them could do anything to help. Mew shrugged, then said, “I just feel like it’s time to head back home. My time at the Expedition Society was fun and all, but this life isn't for me. I think I’ll leave the expeditioning to the expeditioners.” 

“Do the others know about this?” Vallea asked. 

“Yeah, I told them already.” 

A frown crossed Aster’s face as his gaze fell to the floor. He rubbed his nose—the same way Nuzleaf did—and said, “When are you leaving?” 

“Tonight,” Mew said. “Swirlix wants me to have one last dinner with the Society, so I’ll leave after that.” 

Neither of them replied. The two turned to each other, an unspoken conversation written on their faces; the Riolu nodded, and the Treecko stood up with an air of resolution. “What do you think they’ll need?” he asked her. 

She threw her arms up incredulously. “How should I know? You’re the one who always packs!” 

“Good point.” 

Mew, uncomprehending, squinted at them. “Hang on, guys. What’s going on?” 

Aster strode to an old wooden chest that stood in the corner of the room, and threw it open and began rummaging within. From the depths of the chest, he said, “I’m packing you a kit of supplies you might need.” The Treecko emerged clutching his old cloth satchel, a Lapras Liner Pass, several orbs and Oran Berries, a pouch of seeds, and a pair of wands. As he made his way to the desk and opened his money pouch, he continued, “We don’t really have a spare bag to give you, so you’ll have to make do with mine.” 

“Oh,” Mew said, still processing what he had said. Then, “Wait, you don’t need to do this! I-I can't accept your stuff! What if you’ll need it in the future for one of your expeditions?” 

“We’re not the ones who’ll be living in a Mystery Dungeon,” Vallea said. “You probably know more about these kinds of things than we do, but there’s no way we’re just gonna let you waltz back into a place as dangerous as that, not without a few tools to keep you safe!” 

While she spoke, Aster extracted a good handful of gold coins—far too many—from the pouch and placed them into a second, smaller pouch; he hefted it in his paws to feel its weight, then, apparently satisfied, dropped it into the satchel along with the rest of the supplies. “Here you are,” he said, and tossed the satchel to Mew. They caught it—and nearly dropped to the floor from how heavy it was. Something about the unexpected generosity was getting to them, snaking its way into their heart and prying it open. Their eyes teared up and their face burned. To be faced with this bag—a reminder of the dream they’d never had—was too much to bear. They couldn’t stop thinking about how excited they’d been when they had first joined the Expedition Society, and how fabricated that excitement really was. 

“Guys, really, I—” they started, but Vallea cut them off. 

“If you don’t take it now, we’ll just toss it onto whichever Lapras you end up riding!” she said. “Do you have an Expedition Gadget?” 

“Uh…yeah,” Mew whispered. Their lungs were caving in on themselves, and their arms felt weak. They dropped the bag on the floor. “Dedenne gave one to me, but—” 

“Where is it?” she said. 

“Um…I-I think it’s on a shelf in the meeting room.” 

“You’d better not forget it,” Aster said. “Dedenne gets real mad when she can’t contact a Society member.” 

“But I’m not a member of your Society!” Mew shouted. All the doubts and fears and anxieties from the last few days suddenly reared their ugly heads and tore chunks out of Mew's insides. Shakily, they cried, “I-I don’t even know why I came here in the first place! I don’t know why I was so excited to join the Society! I don’t know why I followed you, Aster! I-it felt like the right thing to do at the time, but now…” They wiped at their eyes and sniffled. “…Now I’m not sure if anything I did was really my own choice, or if…” 

Vallea blinked once, her eyes unfocused, and said, “You’re afraid I might've changed what you did.” It wasn't an accusation or a complaint, more of an observation. 

Mew nodded, staring down at the bag that didn’t belong to them, their vision smeared by tears. 

“Mew…” The Riolu approached them, and took both their paws in her own. She sucked in a long breath, and blew it out slowly as she met their eyes. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I really did influence your actions ever since you woke up in Mystery Jungle. And I’m sorry for that.” 

Mew gasped. “No, it wasn't your fault! You didn’t mean for any of this to happen!”

“Still, though. It can't have been fun to live with two souls stuck inside you.” With a conspiratorial glint in her eyes, she leaned closer and continued, “But now? Now you’re the only one who gets to decide what you’re gonna do. Isn’t that exciting? Just think of the possibilities!” 

Mew couldn’t reply. Their throat had closed up and their voice had died completely. They just floated there helplessly in a building devoted to a dream that wasn’t theirs. Eventually, they managed to force out, “But I still haven’t figured out what I want to do. I only know what I don’t want to do. There’s still so much I don’t know yet, and I still feel so lost…” 

Aster approached and picked up the satchel. “I know how it feels. It seems like everyone’s got it all figured out and you’re still trying to catch up, right?” 

Mew nodded. 

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” He pointed out into the hallway. “Nobody in this building really knows what they’re doing. At least, they don’t know all the details. And that goes for everybody in this town too. The whole continent, really.” 

“That's right,” Vallea said. “We’re all trying to figure it out, same as you are. And sure, maybe some of us know more about…I don’t know, about calculus or something.” 

“Dedenne knows a lot about how electric currents work,” Aster supplied. 

“Yeah, that too. But that doesn’t mean they know exactly what they want to do with their lives. They might have general ideas or a plan, sure, but they figure a lot of the details out as they go,” she said. “Like, I want to make a map of the world, but I have no idea how I’m gonna go about mapping out the Mist Continent! It’s too freaking cold!” 

Mew looked up. “But…you'll figure it out when you get there.” 

“Exactly!” The Riolu grinned ear to ear, her tail wagging side to side. “So yeah, maybe you don't know the details about what you’re gonna do. But you’ve got a plan, right? You’re gonna go back to Mystery Jungle! So try it out, see what happens! Go on your big journey of self-discovery! Maybe you’ll find something you like, or even love! Worst case scenario, you can always come back here if you need a place to stay.” 

She gave Mew’s paws a squeeze, then let go. Mew wiped their eyes again and sniffed loudly; their breath came a little easier, and their heart felt a little lighter. The Treecko held out the satchel for them to take. They accepted it this time, and put it on. 

They squared their shoulders and said, “Thanks, guys. For everything.” 

“No problem-o!” Vallea said as Aster nodded. She was about to say something else, when suddenly a shout came from down the hall—it was Swirlix announcing dinner. All of a sudden Vallea's eyes widened as she gasped. “Oh, great! I’m starving! Come on, guys, let's move it!”

Without further ado, she grabbed ahold of Mew and Aster and hauled them out of the bedroom and down the hallway. Any traces of her earlier exhaustion were gone, replaced by a frankly incredible amount of energy. As Mew was pulled through the Expedition Society’s halls, they thought again about how they had changed. 

Vallea could keep her dream. Mew didn’t need it. And as for what they wanted to do, well…

They would figure it out eventually. 

Getting the Society together for dinner was, as Archen put it, “like herding a whole bunch of Skitty.” Mawile had to be physically dragged out of her study, and Swirlix kept sneaking bites of the food when no one was looking. Ampharos somehow got lost on his way to the dining hall, forcing Dedenne to track him down; she eventually found him on the top floor of the lighthouse, staring in awe at the massive lamp. After the two arrived the entire Society was finally present, all chatting and laughing and sharing stories with each other. 

Dinner passed in a blur of dishes, each more delectable than the last. Swirlix had broken out the whole pantry for this meal in an unprecedented fit of generosity: the whole table was covered in a diverse spread of various soups, salads, pies, and pastries—and she had only taken a single bite out of each of them. The centerpiece, an unusually large, misshapen, purple berry, was announced to be the result of her using her own sugary body as fertilizer for the berry bush. Once Mew heard that, they discreetly placed their portion onto Aster’s plate. Aster, glaring at them, dumped the berry piece onto Archen’s plate. Archen popped it into his beak with a smile, blissfully ignorant. 

Mawile, who had spent the last few weeks corresponding with Celebi about Dark Matter, shared historical stories of ancient societies and their cultures and customs. Vallea listened with her eyes wide and mouth slightly open in awe, while Mew struggled to keep from dozing off. They were pleasantly full, and their eyelids drooped lower by the second. But before they fell asleep, Mawile’s story was interrupted by Bunnelby falling asleep face-first into his vegetable stew and spilling it all over the table. The dining hall fell to pandemonium as Swirlix flew into a rage over the loss of perfectly edible food. In her anger she slammed the table and sent the plates and bowls flying, emptying their contents all across the room. She was positively inconsolable. The situation was deemed unsalvageable, and the rest of the Society tried to escape with their food (and for some, their lives). 

In the midst of the chaos, Vallea and Aster grabbed Mew by their arms and made a break for the hallway. While they stepped around pools of soup and crushed remnants of the mystery berry, the Riolu somehow managed to snag a few Mago berry pastries; she shared them with

Aster and Mew once they were outside the dining hall, a mischievous grin on her face. 

“Remind me to never make Swirlix mad,” Aster said as they made their way down the hallway. “She can be…scary.” 

Vallea chortled. “I dunno, I thought it was kinda funny to watch her yell. She reminds me of my old Pops when he gets really upset about something. It’s hard to take her seriously, you know?” 

“Eh, I guess? She’s still frightening, though.” 

As the two talked, Mew only smiled and took small bites from their pastry. They knew the Society would be happy without them, so they didn’t feel all that bad about leaving. Everyone here was like a really weird family, in a way. The three made a stop in their bedroom to pick up Aster’s satchel—no, it was Mew's now—then they walked to the front door, pointedly ignoring the cacophony coming from the kitchen. As they stepped outside, Vallea shouted, “Mew’s leaving, guys! If you wanna say goodbye, now’s your chance!” 

For a moment, the only response to her announcement was silence. 

Then Bunnelby shouted, “Wait, they're leaving now?!” 

Shortly after, the whole building rumbled and shook as several sets of footsteps smacked against the floor, the entire Society rushing to the front door. The Riolu chortled and followed her partner and Mew outside, leaving the door open behind her. The fog from earlier had vanished entirely, so now the scarlet sunset could be seen in all its glory. The horizon was a gradient that shifted from red to indigo as Mew tilted their head back to look up at the sky. Sharp white clouds stood out against the colorful heavens, a few pale stars twinkling in the darkness above them. 

Not for the first time, Mew reflected on how weirdly wonderful it felt to step out from beneath the roof and breathe in the cool, fresh air. It was like being freed from a stale prison of bricks and floorboards. They hadn’t felt this way before Purifying Cave. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots. 

So that was Mew’s first discovery about themself: they loved being outdoors. Not a bad start, all things considered. 

The Society hadn’t caught up yet, so their stroll down Lively Town’s streets to the docks was calm and quiet. The shops in the plaza were closing up for the day, vendors packing away their goods and heading home. (Just how did they manage to live beneath a roof? They couldn’t see the stars or smell the ocean salt!) A few pedestrians ogled the three: some stared at Mew for being a mythical creature; others stared at Aster and Vallea for being the heroes who saved the world. None of the three took any notice, and they reached the docks in a matter of minutes without any trouble. 

The docks were empty aside from a single Lapras waiting at the port; as they approached, she met Mew’s eyes and said, “There you are! Nuzleaf told me you’d come eventually.” 

Mew tilted their head. “Nuzleaf said that?” they said at the same time Vallea said, “Where is he?” 

“Nuzleaf’s staying at an inn nearby,” Lapras said. “He claims he already said goodbye once, and he probably couldn’t handle saying it twice. He asked me specifically to wait for you, Mew. Said you’d need to take a trip to Capim Town, right?” 

“Yeah,” Mew said. 

“Ready to head out?” 

“Um… Not just yet.” 

“They need to say goodbye to a few people,” Vallea explained. 

As if on cue, the distant rumble of the Society’s collective sprint became apparent, growing steadily louder over the course of the next few seconds. Someone, probably Dedenne, was shouting, “Waaaiiiiiit!” 

Mew blinked, and suddenly the entire Society was tumbling down the hill toward the docks: Ampharos had tripped and was rolling on his side, taking out Dedenne, Buizel, and Swirlix with him; hairline cracks were growing on the dirt, probably Bunnelby burrowing beneath the surface; Archen was flapping his wings wildly in a vain attempt to avoid Ampharos’ violent approach. And from the top of the hill, Mawile and Jirachi watched the whole mess with expressions of mixed amusement and disappointment. Mew cringed at the sight.
Ampharos, Archen, Buizel, and Swirlix came to a halt before the docks in a crumpled heap of bodies. Bunnelby popped up from beneath the earth, his fur disheveled and his ears jagged, and said, “I thought you weren’t going to leave until tomorrow morning! You should’ve told us it's tonight!” 

“I…guess I forgot to mention that,” Mew said with a laugh. 

Bunnelby groaned and rubbed his face in exasperation. Swirlix was the first to escape the ball of bodies; she bounced up, her cotton-like tendrils pointing every which way, and announced, “Sorry about dinner! You don’t have to worry about clean-up, though—I’ll take care of it.” 

Buizel, laying on his back, raised his paw to get her attention. “Not alone, you won’t! I didn't even get one bite in before you wrecked the place!” 

Swirlix puffed herself up and started to reply, but Mawile cut her off as she and Jirachi approached. “Don’t worry about them, Mew. This is how they say goodbye. They just can’t make themselves spell it out,” she said with a small smile. “It’s been a pleasure having you.”

“Yeah, for sure!” Jirachi chimed in. “It was nice to have another mythical here, at least for a little while.” 

Archen extracted himself from beneath Ampharos (who was presently rubbing his head as he lay on his stomach) and pecked at his feathers to try and straighten them out. Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he said, “Feel free to come back anytime. Our doors are always open.” 

As he spoke, Dedenne finally rolled out as well and popped up, her whiskers sparking and crackling. She brandished a blue device as she strode towards Mew—it was the Expedition Gadget they had forgotten. 

“Whoops,” Mew said. 

“Whoops, indeed!” Dedenne snapped. Her whiskers fizzed one last time as she tossed the Gadget at them. “Do you have any supplies? Wands, orbs, berries, that kind of thing?” 

“Don't worry! They’ve got everything they need,” Vallea said, raising her paws in a placating manner. “We made sure of it.” 
Ampharos finally managed to roll over and sit up. His eyes spun in his sockets, and Mawile had to rush over and help him up before he fell over again. It took several seconds, but he eventually managed to stand up on his own. Mawile moved to support him, but he waved her away. The orb on his tail glowed faintly, a golden light in the nightfall. “Mew, I’m sure everyone has told you this several times already, and you’re probably sick of hearing it,” he said, sniffling slightly, “but I really did enjoy the time you spent with us. Forgive me for lying to you. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I’m confident you’ll do it with style and grace!” His voice broke on the last word, his eyes watering. 

Even though they all seemed so incompetent sometimes, it had become clear to Mew that the Expedition Society was a group of exceptionally kind, brave, and caring Pokemon. No wonder Vallea had wanted to join them so badly. Mew was almost sorry they had chosen to leave them. 

But only almost. 

“Thanks, guys,” they said, and put on their best, most shining smile. “Good luck with the world map.” 

“I’m sure we'll finish it eventually,” Archen said. “At least, I hope we will.” 

Mew turned to face Vallea and Aster, who bore expressions of mixed regret and joy. Aster was staring down at the dock, while Vallea nodded and said, “I guess this is it, huh?” 

“…Yeah,” Mew said. Looking at her was like looking in a mirror, but one that was cracked and fractured. They still didn't really get what had happened with the reincarnation and multiple lives, but they knew that even though she bore some resemblance to them, the two were different Pokemon in the end. “Good luck with your dream, Vallea. I heard good things about you from your dad, so…you could say I have high expectations for you.” 

Vallea chortled. “Pops praising me? Never thought I’d see the day. I’ll have to ask him about that when we go see him.” 

Aster sniffed once, then rushed forward and embraced Mew. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered into their ear. He pulled back abruptly, rubbing the back of his neck. “If something happens, don’t hesitate to call us. You’ve got your gadget, you know how to work it, so…yeah.” 

Vallea pounded her chest with one fist. “We'll be there no matter what.” 

“Thank you.” Mew looked at the two for a moment, trying to memorize their faces, then turned to Lapras and pulled their Liner Pass out of their bag to show her. “I’m ready,” they told her. 

“Then climb aboard,” she said. 

Mew floated onto her shell and sat down on the edge, laying their satchel down beside them. With a little splash and a grunt, Lapras pushed off from the docks and began the voyage across the ocean. 

As they floated away, Mew waved and shouted, “Goodbye, everyone! Thanks for everything!” 

All ten members of the Expedition Society waved back, yelling their farewells to make themselves heard over the ocean waves crashing against the shorelines. Their voices overlapped and combined into a discordant chorus of love and hope. Mew kept waving until the Society was nothing more than a set of specks on the horizon, the Water Continent a faded blur in the distance. 

The sun finally set, and Mew looked up at the stars. They closed their eyes and waited for an unfamiliar rush of emotions, for thoughts that they didn’t think of, for memories that didn’t belong to them. 

But nothing came, and Mew knew their mind was finally their own.