Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

Chapter 126 - Outskirt Showdown

Author's note: It's Alexander versus Owen, so... this chapter has more violence, blood, etc. than usual, and has a temporary rating of M.

Dark Matter was nothing but a pile of sludge in front of Owen. The Charmeleon's own light had been depleted to the point where he could barely draw enough energy for another attack. He was too far away from the Radiant Tree of Life to get more, even as he heard the panicked shouts of the spirits watching through his eyes. Hopeless as the events unfolded in front of them.

Owen did not know how to fight Alexander. It was only the two of them. He'd hoped that everyone else would be able to fend him off, and then he would work with Dark Matter, somehow, to take Alexander down next.

But in a single blow, Alexander dashed that option.

"H-how... did..."

"How?" Alexander repeated. "I saw what you did..." His smile didn't fade. The dissolved head wasn't regenerating, but it was stable enough that perhaps it would in time. "A mighty blast of light to weaken Dark Matter. How lucky that I was not struck by that same power, or perhaps I would have had a few bruises..."

Owen eyed the missing head again.

Alexander must have noticed, because he frowned, furrowing his scaly brows. "Dark Matter was a nuisance. Keeping me from rightfully claiming the Voidlands that I had tended to and created a safe place out of for centuries. I already stole away some of his power once. Now, it's time for me to take the rest."

Alexander was upon them, looming over the sludge like a predator over its kill. Owen was only a few feet away, instincts telling him to run, everything else telling him to stay. He stood his ground. On Alexander, there was still that mad grin, too, as he opened wide and sank his fangs into the remains.

"What—what are you doing?!" Owen shouted over the crunching. Some instinctual part of him knew this was bad. That was Dark Matter. Alexander was—was taking some part of it. No, he couldn't let that happen.

"STOP!"

Owen lunged forward. He expected an initial parry, so he weaved to the left. His judgement was accurate—he narrowly dodged a quick blast from his remaining head, and then deflected one with a quick barrier. He hissed at the recoil; Alexander's attacks were strong. Those Shadow beams felt like they would kill him in one swoop if they were at full power...

Balling his fist, he was unable to create light, and instead encased it in flames as he pounded Alexander's nose. It was like punching stone. Still, even as Alexander chomped and crunched on the shattered core, Owen punched and punched, grabbing at a few of the red shards that had once been Dark Matter's core and scattering them about.

That got to Alexander. He stopped eating and went for Owen instead, and Owen was too slow. The major head clamped down on Owen's arm and unceremoniously twisted it backwards. Owen wailed and Alexander tossed him into the tree.

The arm was broken in three places. He couldn't clench his fist anymore. It wasn't responding. He didn't want to look. Fleetingly, Owen wondered if attempting his backup plan would give him better luck, but he quashed the thought. Not yet.

With his good arm, he staggered back to his feet, distracted.

When he looked forward again, two empty eyes stared back—the remaining, minor head. It opened wide and clamped over his throat.

"A-ahh... ugg...!" Owen couldn't breathe.

Alexander's face was dripping with dark sludge. "Do you really think you can stop me?" he said. "Make me flinch? After how small, tired, pathetic you've become? You did my job for me. You put Dark Matter at his weakest. And now..." Alexander leaned closer, his breath in Owen's nose. It smelled like cold death. Every syllable was like a crunch of a leaf in wintertime, grinding against his head and threatening his inner fire.