Arms of Arceus

Mewtwo sat in the throne room where Korish had left him. He had been hovering above the floor of the fortress for days, thinking over the Gourgiest’s words and the floating ball of evil that sat before him. He had tried, and failed, to finish the sealing process. He had also tried, and failed, to break it open. That last act had been an impulse that had confused him for a time. After days of meditation, he had come to the terrifying realization that it had been his own will, and not the will of Dark Arceus, that had led him to attempt to free the evil god.

“But why?” Mewtwo questioned as he sat before the prison. He had found no answer in his meditations, only restlessness and a growing hatred of everything. He hated Dark Arceus for tormenting him in Sasha’s dungeons and bringing him to this vile fortress. He hated Korish for mocking him before she left. He hated King Siebold for finding him unworthy of his heritage. He hated the High Council for obeying the king’s wishes, but most of all, he hated the ponies that had stolen his birthright.

He turned to the silent sentinels that stood around the throne room. The six shadowy Kyurem were unmoving, their red-eyed stare and freezing aura chilling even Mewtwo’s heart. Hundreds of Genesect flew outside. Their bodies, like those of their fellow shades, were perfect and whole compared to the zombies that God’s Breath now hid from in his visions. Beneath them stood row upon row of Pokémon, all prepared to bring destruction to their enemies. Mewtwo knew Korish’s plan, and he knew the part she wished him to play in it, but for now he would wait. The only news of merit his meditations had revealed had been the three princesses approaching from the north. He would attempt to satisfy his own desires before accepting Korish’s goals. He would fight with his own strength, for now, until he was sure that there was no other way. His eyes began glowing with power as he anticipated the princess’s arrival high above the endless tides of undead.

As much as she regretted her past, Princess Luna knew that it had a purpose. She had learned from her mistakes and become a better pony, but she had also learned to recognize true evil. As Nightmare Moon, she had been one with the Nightmare. Her potential had been limitless, but her broken heart and secret desire to return to her previous life had kept her from reaching too far into that horrible well of power.

Facing Dark Arceus had been like facing the Nightmare. There was nothing but hatred and a desire to corrupt and destroy. She had faced the Nightmare many times, and she had been the Nightmare for one thousand years. She knew what it was like to pulse with that much raw, unending evil. She knew what it meant to hold that kind of power in her hoof, and every time she thought of it she felt a shiver run down her spine. All she wanted was to defeat this monster, but in her heart she feared that further sacrifices would have to be made if any of them were to survive Dark Arceus. She could only imagine what horrors her homeland faced, and what sacrifices her people had already been forced to make. Neither the Equestrians, nor the Pokémon, had been ready for the sheer coordinated brutality that had assaulted them on Octaria. Still, they had survived. Now that they had witnessed the extent to which Dark Arceus would go to claim victory, they expected only the worst.

These thoughts and memories filled her mind as she traveled across the windblown wastes of the Underworld, past skeletons and the broken remains of long dead Pokémon. According to the two elders guiding them, the ancient bodies of God’s Breath’s defenders were intermingled with the corpses of Dark Arceus’s hateful undead slaves on countless battlefields throughout this landscape. As she looked upon the ruined husks, all Luna saw was death, and she imagined the vile god laughing in its prison during all those years of conflict.

To their surprise, the armies they found as they approached the timeless fortress known as Destroyer’s Grace gave them no trouble. Mistress Mora and Mistress Cloe had been the first to engage the enemy as they scouted ahead of the princesses. They had both fought on these ancient battlefields in ages past, and they had been prepared to fight once more, but as they assaulted the shades they found only dark stares and apathy. As Mistress Mora’s Frenzy Plant attacks shredded dozens of shades at a time, their allies had only watched. As Mistress Cloe’s Flamethrowers burned groups of shades to ashes, the bloodless minions of the dark god only glowered in silent hatred. The elders soon realized that they were being welcomed into Destroyer’s Grace. Now they stood before the princesses, making their report and giving advice.

“We should return to the city,” Cloe said as she nervously passed three small fireballs back and forth over the knuckles of her right paw. So worried was she that she nearly dropped them with every other pass, but she never seemed to notice her mistakes. “They’ve blocked my telepathic communication with Moon Shrine. This is the worst kind of trap! The dark one waits for us ahead, and my intuition tells me that traitor does as well.”

“You mean Mewtwo?” Celestia asked, a tone of concern in her voice.

“Aye, majesty. Mewtwo awaits us, and worse.”

“Yet the dark god is surely there, as well,” Mistress Mora said as she flicked her tail back and forth. “If we turn back now, there’s no telling what might happen before we can launch another assault.”

“Dark Arceus could be released…” Cadance said as she stared off at the looming spires and parapets. They pierced the sky, stabbing through the dark clouds to heights that seemed impossible and unending.

“We will face Dark Arceus one way or another,” Luna said as she stamped the ground and flapped her wings. “What will it change if we return to the city and they somehow free Dark Arceus with a power from this new world God’s Breath has entered? We should go now and face our foe head on.”

“That is a sure method of dying!” Cloe said, her voice loud and urgent.

“Only if we fail,” Morra said resolutely.

“And if we perish here and Dark Arceus returns, our friends will find out about it only when the god is tearing down the Black Gates!”

“Do you think Dark Arceus would invite us into its stronghold and kill us so easily?” Mora asked, her eyes narrowing to focus on Cloe. “We have both stared down that evil. You took away a stronger resolve and increased caution, I took away a greater understanding, I believe. Dark Arceus has always felt a strange pleasure in living within the city, for we suffer each time we must fight its armies. I believe we should enter, albeit with the utmost caution. Should we be captured, we will not die quickly. There will be time for planning, time for escape, and time for revenge.”

“That is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard of,” Cloe said softly, biting her lip as she considered the Serperior’s words. “But perhaps…”
Celestia placed a hoof on Cloe’s shoulder. Tears flowed from the Delphox’s eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. After a moment, she turned to the fortress and watched as the ancient Genesect and Aerodactyl sentinels circled above the walkway.

“When I saw the dark god, I came to the same conclusions, Mora,” Cloe said. “But I suppose I reacted to those conclusions differently. As we grew into our roles, you focused your strategies on offense and prevention. I became cautious to protect my friends and allies. Casualty rates have always been the lowest among troops that I personally lead.”

“Though you do take your time to attack, on occasion,” Mora added gently.

“Indeed, I do,” Cloe replied, smiling a bit at the friendly chiding. “But with Dark Arceus, it’s different. It’s as if we die because it wants us to, and no amount of struggling will stay its wrath.”

“Our forces die because we are in a deadly conflict. Risks must be taken if there is to be anything left to save in the end.”

“But what risks should we take? There is no room to misjudge our actions!”

“It is better to risk our lives, now, than to risk more lives later.”

“Yet this still seems incredibly unwise…” Cloe said as she squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. The stress was almost as palpable as the evil emanating from the fortress, bearing down on the group as they stood around their campfire.

“Cadance, what is your opinion?” Celestia asked, after a moment.

“I can’t help but feel that entering the fortress is a mistake,” Cadance said as she flapped her wings nervously. “I also feel that leaving now is a mistake. If there is no good choice, I would rather take a stand against Dark Arceus here than wait for it to come to us.”

“I agree,” Celestia said. “Luna, do you retain your stance?”

“I do.”

“Cloe, Mora. Return to God’s Breath and prepare for an invasion of Destroyer’s Grace. Luna, Cadance and I will do what we can here.”

Mora bowed in obedience, and the group turned to Cloe. The Delphox continued staring at the fortress for a minute, her eyes sad and fearful. Then she turned to the princesses and bowed.

“Be safe, your majesties,” she said softly. Then she and Mora set off for home as quickly as they could.

“Come,” Luna said, as she spread her wings and took flight with her friends. “We have an evil god to face.”