Chapter Twenty-Six

Shiloh was not awake enough to fully listen or even fully appreciate everything she was hearing. The castle was well-defended, and getting inside would require a careful effort even from such powerful legendaries. Team Plasma had legendaries of their own, and they would be expecting an attack.

It meant incredible coordination, from a group of legendary Pokémon and their allies all working together. All to get Lane over to the artifact, where she could do some psychic-Pokémon thing that would infect each of them with a “cure” they would spread to every human and Pokémon they encountered.

"I… got some of that," Shiloh said, when the other Pokémon finally turned their attention on her. "But I don't get what I'm supposed to do."

"Here." Lane tapped the screen with two fingers, and it returned to an image of a large, vaulted chamber, with a huge throne at the center. "Team Plasma has several legendary Pokémon captives. We don't know how many, or how loyal they are. This is where you come in."

"I've fought with victini before," Korina said. "With you, we win."

Shiloh stared down at the map, then around the room at the three other legendary Pokémon. "Just us?"

"Unfortunately," Mewtwo said. "There are more powerful Pokémon than those assembled here. But a threshold exists where the mind retreats and instincts necessarily advance. They cannot be persuaded to leave their particular domains, unless directly threatened."

Shiloh nodded weakly. Like everything she heard from these Pokémon, there were hidden depths beyond her perception, meaning implied by even the slightest remarks.

"I don't… think I belong here," she whispered, whimpering. "I'm just a Pokémon trainer. I'm a coach, an athletic trainer, a sports strategist. I'm not a legendary Pokémon—I'm not supposed to be out here saving the whole world!"

There was brief silence—other than the human technicians around the room, who kept at their work, radiating a constant low level of awe and fear.

Finally Mewtwo gestured, and something appeared in front of Shiloh—a mirror, reflecting her nervous, dirty, exhausted face back at her. "You were those things," he said. "I was once nothing more than a hybridization experiment, my mind cultivated in a simulation of the dead. You are not defined by your past, Shiloh."

She felt a little voice answering from deep within, what her old self would've said. "What if that's the person I still want to be?"

She didn't say it out loud—but she didn't have to. Every other Pokémon in the room was reading her mind.

Something touched her—Lane's hand, brushing the dirt and grime from her coat with surprising gentleness. "Do you think I could've made just anyone into Victini? If nature didn't matter, I would've made a thousand kittens by now. It doesn't work that way.

"I'm sure you could've had a successful career as a Pokémon champion, Shiloh. You would win your victories, get your photo in Pokémon centers and trivia books—but what then? Stay champion until some new challenger comes around and takes the spot."

She dropped down to one knee, so her face was right up beside Shiloh. "I saw what you did on the Vainglory. You stopped being just a trainer weeks ago and became something more."

Someone landed on the edge of the map beside her. Korina, her tail curling gently around her. "There's no going back to the life you had." She nudged Shiloh’s head with one paw, sticking her tongue out. "There's no room for all that in a human brain. Lane was the same way at first, making her big plans for how she would go back. But as soon as she started flying, that was it."

"Mom," Lane groaned. "You don't have to tell her that."

Shiloh was not getting less overwhelmed with the powerful Pokémon trying to reassure her. If anything, being attacked might have been even easier. At least violence was a language she understood.

There's no way back. Can't be human again. Had some part of her already known that? If Shiloh wanted to be sure she could go back to her old life, she should've refused to learn her new powers. Instead of curling up in that box, she went out and learned.

Even worse, she liked it.

"I want to… see my friends," she stammered, backing away from them. "Get some sleep. Can you finish telling me all this after?"

"There is some time," Mewtwo said. "We wait for our allies to gather. When they are assembled, we must attack. If these humans realize our target, they may move or destroy it. We don't know why they're holding that fragment. We don't know how well they understand its potential."

That might all be true, but it didn't make her any less overwhelmed. Shiloh wanted to help—but she wasn't ready to let go of herself just like that.

Maybe she would, for a reason as good as this. Or maybe she would find another way—Mirage had already shown her how.

Shiloh flew. She didn't choose a direction at random—one corridor in particular led to the dense gathering of Pokémon minds. Ordinary Pokémon, not the incredible power that gathered behind her.

Ordinary Pokémon that wouldn't demand she abandon her old life. Ordinary Pokémon that couldn't rewrite her memories, change her into strange creatures, or ask her to help save a whole planet.

Corridors blurred past her, airlock doors hissed open, and suddenly she was in a forest, and gravity pulled her down again?

She wobbled, her world turned over, and she reoriented to the horizon. A bright false sun glowed overhead, with a fake blue sky projected up onto an intersecting patchwork of glass panels. A stream gurgled, and trees drifted in the wind.

That wind smelled too clean, too artificial. But the dirt and rocks were real.

The Pokémon were too, spread into their expected habitats. It was a perfect, natural sight—but Shiloh wasn't a Pokémon. This wasn't what she really wanted.

She drifted for a short distance, trailing tears. Any second now someone would catch up to her. Probably Lane, with a fresh list of demands for her.

Then she found it: an opening in the wall, high off the ground, about the right size for her to fit through. Inside was a tiny platform, a flat animal bed, and a single switch. Just like the little nesting boxes back in Lane's nursery.

Shiloh didn't care enough to check if anyone else was using the space. She landed, and didn't smell anyone. She curled up as small as she could, flicked off the light, and hid.

There was no chance she could avoid those powerful Pokémon, if they decided to come after her. But none did. She drifted away, soothed by the sound of an artificial stream below.

She was tired enough to sleep despite the fake sunlight, and the many Pokémon still active in the distance. If Team Plasma attacked the space station, she might've slept through that too.

Until at last something landed on the edge of the platform, jostling her. She stirred in her sleep, then sensed the other mind nearby. It was familiar enough, yet also strange. They radiated a very different power than the top-tier psychics she was used to.

Finally she opened one eye, and saw Celebi. He rested on the edge of the sleeping spot, his wings towards her and feet hanging down. "Hi, Shiloh."

She sat up, too delirious to feel embarrassment quite yet. Just when she was starting to adapt to being a Pokémon who didn't have to wear anything, something like this would come along to remind her.

"Dominic," she replied, groggily. "You here to encourage me to fight, too? Tell me about how great I'll be… once I give up on being human again?"

The fairy's wings buzzed in agitation, his antennae twitching. But he didn't reply. Not for a long time. "Can you imagine what it's like stuck on the outside of everything my friends do? I can't fight as well as they can, I can't be as persuasive or even as interesting. I've got one trick, and the instant I use it I'm usually banned from sharing what I learned."

He looked out over the habitat, radiating his profound discontent. “They already started fighting down there. The future of our planet turns on this moment—and there's nothing I can do."

Shiloh finally sat up. She stretched, crawled forward to the edge, and sat down beside Dominic. "No way to cheat?” Shiloh suggested. "No loopholes you could use?"

"Tons," the celebi said. "Feels like half of being me is finding ways to make changes or get information through without getting noticed. Like—if I don't look at how something turns out, I could stay and help, and still use my general knowledge of history as long as I don't share it directly. But if I look ahead and learn the key to stopping some critical event—"

He slumped his huge head forward into little paws, sighing deeply. "Then I can barely touch it all of the sudden. If you knew all the ways to cause a paradox, you'd be afraid to get up in the morning."

Shiloh didn't know what to say to that—any of that. For a while she said nothing at all, trying to figure out why the Celebi had decided to visit now of all times. Assuming he even had a reason.

"Sounds like we… know each other… pretty well," she eventually said. "You trust me?"

Dominic looked up, settling one of his hands on Shiloh's nearest paw. "After everything we've been through? You know how refreshing it is to not have uncertainty about events, without needing to look into the future?"

Now she was embarrassed. Her face felt warm, and she had to be radiating that same feeling to his mind. There was no way he could miss her emotions now, even if they were new.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "That you already… know what I'll decide?"

He rolled his eyes, grinning. "Even you already know that. No, it's about what you are. Constants and variables, Shiloh. You're a constant. Victory, no matter what you're up against. You're the only one in my whole world I can always count on. And you're incredibly hot, but you can't help that either. Fire types."

Even I already know that. She thought over those words. She probably should've thought about that during their very first meeting. This celebi didn't know Shiloh the champion, he knew a shiny victini. He'd known her for… a long time, it sounded like.

Enough that I'm a source of strength for him, somehow. "It does all seem so… inviting," she admitted, standing up. She stretched, and lifted up over the edge. "These worlds I never imagined before… forces all moving to guide the planet, that people like me don’t see. Somehow, I ended up part of it!"

Dominic watched her, unmoving. "I know it's a lot to carry. But better someone like you than the others out there. Being good isn't a prerequisite for power."

Am I good? The word was so simplistic, childish even. Was it good to trick her way into a dying girl's hospital room? What about helping to stop a mind-virus from infecting Pokémon all over the world?

"You've seen what comes after this, right? My life… whatever it turns into." She didn't wait for a response. She already knew the answer. "Do I regret it? Do I wish I'd fought harder to go back?"

He grinned up at her. "I can't… I can tell you about the Shiloh I know. She's brave, noble, fearless, and passionate." He took off, flying after her.

"Just being around her reminds me what it's like to be alive. If she has any faults at all, it's that she sometimes forgets that others don't fight with the same advantages she does."

He floated higher, leading her towards the glass ceiling. "I know her as a Pokémon who left a legacy, deeper than anything her old self could've done."

Then he stopped, turning slowly back to her. "I hope that didn't answer your question. I wouldn't be allowed."

"Nope, completely ignorant," she agreed. "I think there's a zorua in here. Can you help me find him?"