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Z.’s time in the void-between-worlds was a lot shorter than it had been last time, but that was fine by them. They’d gotten all their self-reflection done early, any more after that would just have been overkill. That led them to consider other things, though, like how Es had been behind them for that whole loop, and yet still when Z. came up on the stairs, Es was already, like, halfway up. They remembered hearing something about forwards and forwards two, but the path had been set in literal stone. There weren’t a lot of explanations remaining. Well, there was one that was pretty obvious, now that they thought about it more. It contradicted some of the conversation they’d had one and a half floors ago, but it still was better than “went invisible” or “there are actually two Eses and you just haven’t noticed for some reason,” and, like, their vision wasn’t great as a Zorua, but it wasn’t that bad. It was something they had to ask her about as soon as they got the opportunity, though. The opportunity came pretty quick, as the darkness faded and Z. found themselves right next to the Rotom in question. Ignoring the voice in their head again -- and, indeed, all the other Pokémon in the room -- Z. turned to Es and went right for it. “Two floors ago, you said you couldn’t go through walls.” “Yeah, but hey! I had t-t-t-to do better! So I d-d-did!” Es said. Her cheerfulness in response to what Z. might have interpreted as an accusation was off-putting, almost disarming, but they recovered from that part without issue. Even more surprising was her incorporation of a passing remark they’d made. “Just do better,” they had said. And she had. She’d listened. Most authors featured on Zeta Channel only tended to post the one story that attracted their attention, and many that did throw a second attempt into the raging winds of early 2010s forum culture included some sort of phrase in their introduction like, “I hope Zeta likes this one” (which, for the record, was just as bad as the preemptive apology, and actually worse every time the same problems popped up (and when that didn’t happen, the problems were just replaced with other, similar, problems)), so despite their heart genuinely being in the right place, for as much advice as they’d given over the years, it was difficult to track how much of it actually made it into an author’s own written work. There had been some. One person disappeared for like four years after being featured on an early Zeta Channel post and came back with a banger of a story (and also, apparently, a BA in Creative Writing), but it was still an unfamiliar situation for Z., at least based on the memories they still had. “Yeah, I meant it as a compliment,” they managed. And they had. Again, their attention turned inward. Around them, people were already gaining ground on who they were before, while all Z. had to show for themselves, despite figuring out some pretty important things like, well, moving pretty early on, was knowing what was possible, what to work towards in the future. They were pretty confident that if they were to spend a significant amount of time as a Pokémon, their ethic would outpace most everyone else’s, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating in the here and now. Z. consoled themselves with this: At the very least, they still didn’t know the entirety of their Pokébody’s abilities. They were still in the information-gathering stage like everyone else. Hector was behind them challenging all the Cleffa in the room to a six-on-three fight, and Z. turned around to focus on the one nearest them. “Got a news flash for you, Cleffuck,” they said. “We’re all made of star stuff. You’re not actually special at all.” And whether it was having seen the exact same species last fight or just a semblance of renewed confidence, time slowed down for Z., and they were able to track every single movement the thing made with ease. If the Cleffa attacked, Z. was ready for it, ready to dodge in any which direction they chose. If it instead flopped around uselessly like a fish out of water, well, Z. was ready for that too.

This wasn't the exact thing he was expecting to find today...not in the slightest...it was more like he was expecting a normal trip away from the store and home then just go back, but no. No such luck, especially for him. If he knew that earlier... EARLIER Jeremy Shelby stood at the terminal for the magtrain, casually sipping his morning mocha, earbud in one ear and his bag slung over his left shoulder. He had swung by the 6th District to pick up a few antique items from a couple near here that they were just really wanting to get rid of. Of course, he had no problem taking the items they gave him, after all he could just sell it once he cleaned them up. Taking a sip of his mocha, the rich taste of it gracing his lips and mouth...that was until he nearly choked on it after hearing something pop into his earbud. GOOOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING MEGAOPOLIIIIIIIIIIIS! Coming to live from within the backpack of Megaopolis' very own Jeremy Shelby...straight from the lamp...it's the Djinn Round-Up!!! Jeremy groaned, still coughing up some of his mocha as he forcefully rustled his bag, making sure something in there definitely was rustling and being thrown about. "...you do this right when I'm enjoying the peace and quiet, Ibuz...why?" he groaned, before hearing the voice again in his earbud laughing. "To keep you on your toes, m'boy!" the voice belonging to Jeremy's Djinn companion, Ibuz, simply chuckled. "Besides, right now it just makes it seem like your having a conversation with someone on your device and not outright to a magical entity. Plus: it was a perfect opportunity to cause a bit of mischief today." "Been quiet all day..." he grumbled, taking the last few sips of his mocha before disposing of the cup afterwards. "Fairly certain Kaede doesn't have something like this going on with her Library of Alexandria..." "Aw, master, you've hurt my feelings...my insides and outsides as well with your words. But alas, that would be the case. Especially since the library isn't as sentient as I...once again, you were the lucky one." Jeremy rolled his eyes some, adjusting his glasses slightly as he approached the area to wait for the train. "Regardless, next time give me a warning before you do something like that, alright?" he simply asked, tapping his foot while waiting for the train. However, the train would come and it wouldn't stop...and the young man wouldn't be remaining there standing for it. His gaze shot up from looking at his watch and began to survey the area around them. The ground was shaking...it seemed like the feeling of steps being taken. "...Ibuz, I assume you feel that?" "The constant, massive shaking like that of footsteps? If that, then yes...unless that's just you jostling the bag." "You would like that to be the case, wouldn't you..." Jeremy admitted, before moving away from the train platform to look outside. That's when he saw it, plain as day...Samsara Tower...and it was...moving...like a giant kaiju. "...of course it's a kaiju...Japanese built city...makes sense as anything else." he sighed, before moving his bag off his shoulder and digging into it. Before long he pulled out an antique lamp, clipping it onto his belt loops on his pants for a bit. "Guess we'll be heading home later then, Ibuz..." "HAHAHAHAHA!!! Excellent m'boy! Let's see if we can minimize some causalities out there, shall we?" the voice now emanated from the lamp on his side. "Like we got a choice?" Jeremy backed away from the railing, before taking a running leap over the side. He proceeded to fall over the side, but his fall was soon slowed down to the point of a simple feather floating in the air until his feet touched the ground. There was already a large amount of damage being done...and from what he could see, some yahoo with a baseball bat was doing something to...well it was obvious that he was Fount with the power set he was displaying, but it was also obvious he was not caring in the slightest about the situation going on around him. "The hell is that guy thinking?" "Seems like he's...attempting to...oh! He just used that motorcycle as a baseball, intriguing. Seems like one interesting fellow..." Jeremy knocked on the side of the lamp and grumbled. "Now isn't the time for us to be dazzled by the nutjob with the bat...who seems to be doing more harm than good." he said, moving in the direction of where most of the damage was. "Ibuz, c'mon out and make yourself useful. We need to make sure there's not any casualties and make sure everyone takes cover..." he quickly rubbed the side of the antique lamp, before watching smoke and wind pour out from it... The Djinn made his debut beside his master with a firm nod. "Naturally, master. Would this be a wish you request?" "No...I didn't say the words...you aren't getting me like that again." Jeremy shot a small smirk towards the blue creature, before summoning up quite a bit of wind to blow away the dust and debris out of the way in order for them to make sure people were safe.

Hector was surprised to find that everyone had waited for them at the top of the stairs… again. It had been made abundantly clear by some of them—mainly the Clobbopus who avoided giving a name and Zee—that they thought sticking together was more of a pain than it was worth. So why did they wait? Weren’t they the front of the pack? The Falinks shook his head, which in reality, was more like bristling the bright red plumage on top of his helmet. Maybe I should take my own advice. Just because they were snappy doesn’t mean they would actually run off. Everyone’s just stressed. His ruminations were cut short by a familiar voice cutting through his thoughts. It was a fairly odd thing to say, but he was getting used to how it felt to have someone talking in his head. "Oh, I almost forgot! Be careful... You're not alone." “What?” Hector jolted to attention, and the troop snapped their shields into place with a synchronized stomp. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts he had failed to see that there were a few too many bodies. Just like before, adrenaline pumped through his veins and his body felt lighter and more responsive, the troopers almost shuddering with anticipation. Guess Falinks are more at home in a fight than they are exploring old ruins. Hector was pretty grateful for the battle instincts his body harbored, because he recalled nothing about fighting or what he was supposed to do, and he doubted it would be very helpful even if he did. Six sets of eyes meant that he had a good view of most of the wild Pokémon as well. He was honestly relieved to see how angry the Cleffa in this cave were; it had hurt his heart to see the scared little one from before. “Chester,” he said as he marched past the other moderator. “Will you keep an eye on Cross? He’s really struggling.” Chester, surprised by the Falinks calling out to him, said, "huh? Oh, uh, absolutely! No harm will come to him if I can help it." Hector felt a bit of his worry slip away. Chester was nothing if not reliable, in every sense of the word. “Thanks. Knew I could count on you.” Then he kept marching toward the trio of Cleffa. Fairy-type was honestly a bit of a blank in his knowledge. He had barely played the game around the time they joined and their stint in the TCG was limited and mostly reserved for a handful of Gardevoir decks. What he did know was that they had been designed entirely to balance Dragon-type Pokémon and that they had a very good match-up against them, meaning Noibat was not the one that should be standing in front of them. Plus he had promised the others he would take as much of the heat as he could since he was wearing armor. About that time he noticed the small stack of golden coins at his feet. They were weirdly clean for being in such a filthy place, and each one had a large capital ‘P’ carved into the front of it. Hector had the troopers scoop them up and tuck them into the inside of their helmets. He had no idea what it would be used for, but he was sure it would be good for something at some point. As soon as the Cleffa realized what he had done, one of them let out a very angry scream and started towards him. “And here I thought we could be friends!” he shouted, and two of the troopers leapt forward and slammed themselves into the Cleffa in the center. Cleffa tumbled backwards but jumped back onto their feet, uselessly flailing their arms at the two troopers. The Brass stepped forward to get in the front and the two troopers fell back into formation. Hector was pumped. He had managed to perfectly control his newfound body with no accidents for basically the first time. His excitement lasted all of two seconds until he realized that all three Cleffa were now bearing down on him. “Crap!” Hector moved to block his face with his shield. The troopers all raised their own shield and interlocked them to form a protective wall of metal, but something strange happened when they did. A wave of shimmering red aura rippled across the tiny spartans, seemingly coming out of the them—of him?—and then coalescing into the center of their shields. Hector was on edge. He felt like he imagined an electric wire felt, barely managing to contain all of the power that was channeling through him, like he might explode at any second. One of the Cleffa finally made contact and the energy exploded outwards. It shot up into the air a few feet and then hung, like a flare, before it spread out into a translucent red honeycomb dome that surrounded him on all sides. Thin red tethers connected each of his shields to the barrier, with an especially thick rope-like tether anchored to the shield of the Brass. Hector was so overwhelmed he nearly fell flat on his back. “..What… What’s going on?” his voice was once again six. He barely noticed the Cleffa flailing useless against to try and get into the barrier, or another one erecting a pink-colored copycat of it, and very, very faintly he could hear the soothing singing of the last but it barely had an effect on him. “Is this a move?” It was leagues above what he had decided was his ‘Tackle’ move if so.