"You... are you my mom?"
Steven heard himself say it, and almost couldn't believe the words had come out.
The White Skirt Girl shook her head gently.
"No. I am not."
"Please — go save Celebi."
The denial settled something in Steven's chest, oddly. He took a breath and let the stillness of the silver-blue space help him think.
The girl before him kept repeating the same plea, over and over — please save Celebi — with the persistence of something that had been built for a single purpose and could not stop running it, even now that something like feeling had begun to grow around the edges.
A single obsession, powerful enough to create a presence like this one.
Steven considered it carefully. If that was what had happened — if she had emerged from nothing but that one unending wish — then what did that make his mother? Human? Something more? Something else entirely?
Phantom Trainer...
If a Mythical Pokémon had been involved somehow — if one of them had given shape to something that was otherwise only grief and longing — then perhaps it wasn't impossible.
"Are you—"
"It's here!" The White Skirt Girl cut across him, her expression shifting from sorrow into sudden urgency.
"Please — help Celebi—"
"Wait!"
But the silver-blue light was already closing in. She was dissolving at the edges. Steven reached the word too late, and then she was gone.
The dizziness came rushing back.
Steven opened his eyes.
The first thing that reached him was scent — warm, close, faintly familiar. Something shifted as he came back to himself, and he realised, a moment later, that his head had been resting against Cynthia's shoulder.
He sat up quickly.
"Steven! You're awake!"
Cynthia's eyes were bright and wet at the edges. Without thinking, Steven reached up and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers — catching the tear before it could fall.
"How long was I out?"
"Five, maybe six seconds?" She shook her head slightly. "It was so short — you were gone and then you just... came back."
She was already pulling him to his feet.
"Come back inside. I want you checked out properly."
"Cynthia." Steven kept hold of her hand and kept his voice steady. "There's something I need to go and deal with."
"You are not going anywhere right now." Her brow furrowed. "You just fainted."
"The reason I fainted was a distress call from a Pokémon," Steven said. "There's nothing wrong with my body — not anymore. Whatever it was, it's passed."
He met her eyes directly.
"I'm a regional Champion, Cynthia. This comes with the position. I can't ignore a call like this."
"Then take me with you." Her voice didn't waver.
"No." He said it gently but without room for argument. "Your goal hasn't been reached yet. I won't take you into something unknown before you've had your chance." He paused. "Trust me. I'll be back before you know it."
"I'm the youngest League Champion in history. Trust me."
Cynthia looked down. Her hands, clasped in his, had tightened until the knuckles were pale.
"...You have to come back safe."
"I will. That's a promise."
Steven turned.
"Metagross."
Metagross was already looking at the sky.
Right on time.
A red shape was descending through the clouds, moving with an effortless, gliding grace — streamlined and swift. The lower half of its body was a deep, vivid red; its wing-like appendages swept back in clean, aerodynamic lines. Its face was red, framed by triangular ears, and on its forehead sat a white pentagonal marking. Its chest bore a blue, triangular crest against white. Its feet, fin-like and delicate, touched nothing as it slowed and came to rest a short distance away.
The Eon Pokémon. Latias.
[Hurry — I'll take you.]
A clear voice rang directly in Steven's mind, unhurried but urgent.
"Telepathy..."
[There's no time. Come now.]
Six beams of red light swept from Steven's belt in quick succession as his Pokémon returned to their Poké Balls.
"Honedge."
The little Pokémon was still hovering, wide-eyed and uncertain. Steven reached out, and it drifted into its Poké Ball with only a small sound of protest.
Steven turned back to Cynthia one last time.
She was watching him the way she'd been watching him for five seconds that felt much longer than five seconds.
Steven did something he hadn't done in sixteen years. He closed the distance between them, one arm around her waist, and pulled her in close.
Cynthia went still.
Then something warm pressed against her cheek — brief and certain.
"Wait for me," Steven said quietly, close to her ear.
He stepped back. Crossed to Latias. Swung himself up onto her back.
Cynthia stood with one hand raised to her cheek, watching the horizon swallow them whole.
Her lips moved.
"...Mm."
Latias accelerated the moment Steven was settled, wrapping a barrier of Psychic around them both to keep the wind from tearing at them. The landscape below became a blur.
[You have questions. Save them.] Latias's voice was matter-of-fact. [There isn't time.]
She was right. Steven kept them to himself.
He watched the land moving beneath him and thought about what he knew. Latias was a Legendary Pokémon — in raw power she sat comfortably above Metagross, though short of Mega Metagross's peak. Long-distance flight at this speed would drain her stamina faster than anything else.
He reached into his bag and held out several Sitrus Berry concentrate cubes — processed trail rations, dense with energy.
Latias glanced at his outstretched hand.
A pause. Then she ate them cleanly, in one movement.
Her speed climbed again almost immediately.
In a dense, ancient forest somewhere in the Johto region, the trees rose so tall that their canopy broke the sky into scattered pieces.
A small figure moved through the undergrowth, looking upward.
It was stocky and low to the ground, with grayish-green skin that had the rough texture of stone. A single blunt horn jutted from its forehead. Its eyes were a dull, dark red. Its arms were short, each foot ending in a single thick toe. Along its abdomen ran a diamond-shaped scale in deep red, and four diamond-shaped hollows marked its waist. Its tail ended in a hard, conical tip ringed with a flat, plate-like collar.
"Larvitar..."
Larvitar tilted its head back and looked up at the towering trees, one arm raised to shade its eyes from the light filtering through the leaves.
It reached out, bit off a strip of bark, chewed twice —
Ptui. Ptui.
Spat it out immediately.
Disgusting.
Larvitar considered its options, then crouched down and scooped a handful of sand and pebbles into its mouth instead. Chewed. Swallowed. Marginally better.
It started moving again, eating as it went — sand and grit and small stones, and, when it was lucky, an actual rock it could tuck under one arm and carry for a while like a snack.
"Larvitar..."
It stopped. Looked left. Looked right.
Something was out here.
"Larvitar! (ง •̀_•́)ง"
It squared its small shoulders, gave itself a firm nod, and pushed forward into the deeper dark of the forest.