Emmet had a new subject in his notebook.

After a series of calls following Ingo’s pursuit of Tornadus, Thundurus and Landorus-- and an understandably confused summary of his findings-- things seemed to quiet down in Hisui. His brother spent some time working with his Pokemon, fighting a doomed battle against invasive mint plants, and collaborating with Galaxy Team.

None of that was especially important, but it was what filled the days until Emmet received a few unnerving messages centered around the merchant who gave Ingo the creeps. He took note, but wasn’t terribly worried; if the guy turned out to be trouble, it wouldn’t come as a surprise. Ingo had clocked him as a potential hazard months ago, and sounded like he was walking into the situation expecting it to take a turn for the worse. Under different circumstances, Emmet would have been surprised by his twin’s pessimism, but he trusted that Ingo had a better understanding of the facts and, therefore, was making a reasonable decision.

After that, the new detail landed in his lap, mentioned no fewer than three times:

Arceus

Arceus

Arceus.

Ingo didn’t offer any explanation as to what it was, but that was hardly necessary-- all it took was one specific sentence, and Emmet knew everything he needed about it. It was the Pokemon that had stolen his brother away and left him to die in the Alabaster Icelands. It was the one that had given him direction and swerved at the last second, throwing him into despair. Arceus was the reason any of this had happened-- and for what? Not a Pokedex, not some pissed off Pokemon, but for a single extremist? Was Emmet really supposed to believe that no one else could fight one man back? Ingo was an incredibly talented trainer, but they were just two of the many, many people who made battling their business.

Emmet knew that Ingo himself thought there was more to it-- that it was a matter of ideology rather than capability-- but he wasn’t convinced.

He’d copied down each of the references to Arceus, though only one seemed like it would be the least bit helpful. Without meaning to, he found that his pen idled at the end of “There was a point at which I truly did despise Arceus.” and he had to give himself a shake, breaking out of his thoughts.

As it turned out, Arceus wasn’t the easiest research project.

Legendary Pokemon earned that distinction because of their might, leaving their likeness entrenched in human history. Reshiram and Zekrom were perfect examples: modern day Unova would look completely different if not for them, for better and for worse.

The greatest difference between those deemed ‘legendary’ and ‘mythical’ was how visible they were to the general public. Everyone and their Lillipup knew about the legendary dragons, but a Pokemon like Victini was a more closely guarded secret. Oftentimes, information on them still existed, but the Pokemon themselves were so rarely seen that the information was based on the myths surrounding them, and not hard science.

Arceus fell firmly into the second category. Yet again, the bulk of information was in a language Emmet didn’t speak, but this time, that was a major problem; the Unovan pickings were so slim that all he could do was confirm it was an established piece of mythology. Sinnoan folklore stated that it had created the world, but whether or not it existed was more a matter of religious belief.

In a way, Emmet was grateful that was the first piece of information he found. It told him that he was wasting his time looking online.

He didn’t have much hope for Nimbasa’s local library, but gave it a cursory search. It netted a couple of books on different pantheons of legendary Pokemon and an introduction to the religions of Kanto, Johto and Sinnoh, which wasn’t exactly on topic, but was about as much as he could ask for there.

Really, he was pinning his hopes on the Nacrene Museum. Rumor had it the building had once contained Zekrom’s slumbering form, and they’d never realized it until a failed theft. If it had unwittingly housed an entire legendary Pokemon, it didn’t seem out of the question that there might be worthwhile information within its walls, whether or not the staff knew it.

When he asked after Sinnoan mythology, Lenora asked him where the sudden interest came from. That was reasonable enough; when they’d been pinning down the list of Pokemon that were simply too dangerous to allow on the Battle Subway, Ingo had been the one to find primary sources, either from Drayden’s personal collection of books or this very library. Not only had that taken place years ago, but it was a more general look into myths and legends the world around, a fascination which needed no excuse. He ended up telling her that he was going to fight a myth for the chance to get his brother back, and she hadn’t known whether to take that as a joke or not. Truth be told, Emmet didn’t know whether it was a joke or not.

In the end, he found his way to the right section, but he was also pretty sure Lenora made a call to Drayden right after their conversation. He had no idea what he was going to do about that, since he was technically going rogue, and hadn't shared this piece of information before leaping into action. After a moment, he decided that it would be a problem for future Emmet. Future Emmet was not going to be happy with him.

He’d moved on to searching through the shelves at that point, and found three books with the potential to help him. The first was a long shot, written in Sinnoan, but he paged through to see if anything might help. He found an interesting pair of photographs: one featuring a stained glass window, the other an oil painting. Both pieces centered around a mountain with a white flare shining atop it, but even though the subject matter was the same, the artistic intent wasn’t. The mural was abstract-- as the medium sometimes demanded-- and in it, the spot of white atop the mountain was stylized like a starburst, ringed with light as though, somehow, it was causing lens flare. The technical skill was there, and it was certainly nice to look at, but it wasn’t very evocative.

The painting, meanwhile, used darker, more muted colors: the greys and browns that made up the mountain’s crags were underscored with stark black shadows cast by the light above it. This piece didn’t depict the rift as something only a step removed from a cookie-cutter star, but something alien, starkly out of place; the brush strokes were imperfect, and that only lent to the jagged shapes they cut into the sky. It seemed very clear that both were meant to depict the rift above Mount Coronet, and even without speaking Sinnoan, Emmet could only assume that the book was focusing on how the original painting had been sanitized. The difference between the two was actually incredible.

He made a point about it in his notepad, but it wasn’t why he was here, so he moved on to the next. This was the one he had the highest hopes for; it was written in Unovan by a student of Sinnoan history, and it focused on dissecting the region’s core mythos. It was a lot of translated and fragmented poetry, which the author was all too happy to wax over along the way, but one of the verses instantly caught Emmet’s attention. He recognized the term “Original One” because his brother had used it a handful of times, referencing the plates Volo was so dead-set on collecting; in fact, Emmet had only recently been made aware that it was one of many euphemisms that referred to Arceus.

The myth itself was fairly basic, claiming that Arceus had come into being and proceeded to create a series of Pokemon, which had then gone on to create the world itself. It sounded vaguely familiar, and he felt like Ingo had said something to that effect before. He took a moment to page through his notes, but couldn’t find any reference to the conversation, so he would have to comb through his voicemails when he got home.

At its very end, the translation read, “The world created, the Original One took to unyielding sleep…” which was blatantly untrue if he was to believe his brother’s version of events. It didn’t help very much in terms of making a plan, but it did give him a decently reliable knowledge base to pull from in the future, which was valuable in a different way.

The final book wasn’t going to be helpful as much as it was… interesting. Emmet had been scanning for Sinnoan legends, but in the process, he’d found a title he recognized: A Complete Hisuian Pokedex, 1X57 collected by H. Laventon. This particular version had been translated into the Galarian dialect, albeit somewhat imperfectly. In scanning through, Emmet noticed a number of species’ names weren’t what he knew and, instead, used a romanization from Sinnoan. That made this another questionable source, but, truthfully, he was only looking through this one for his own curiosity.

He stopped on the page for Sneasler and looked over the photograph. It was weird to see one behaving so… normally; he was accustomed to blurry shots of a Sneasler crossing the Highlands or approaching at high speed, and he was a little shocked to see how much smaller this specimen looked. Further down he found the sketch of paw anatomy, and under that, a note from Laventon; it stated that, while proven accurate, a great deal of the entry was based on observation of a specific Sneasler, and to bear that fact in mind when studying the species in greater depth. The professor went on to add that he was relatively certain a standard Sneasler wouldn’t be so tolerant as this one was with his associate, who happened to be her handler.

At the commentary, he shut the book and opened it back to the beginning, searching for the foreword.

“[…] just one of many researchers who’ve made the effort to contribute to this vision. On my own, I would have been unable to complete this task within a lifetime, and I am infinitely grateful for the associates who donated their time, and the friends I’ve made in years of research. Certainly, I have to formally credit one such friend, Warden Ingou of the Shinju clan, though I fear it will never find its recipient. Wherever you’ve gone, I do hope you will also remember our work with fondness; this “destination” would have been impossible to reach without you. I must also […]”

Emmet spent a few minutes transcribing the excerpt into his own notebook, even though the odds it would help were slim to none. He stared at the word “destination” in his own handwriting for a moment before doing his best impersonation of a steam engine: he blew a breath out and moved on. No sense getting caught up in complicated emotions right now.

He ended up checking the Hisuian Pokedex out for two weeks, because there was enough inside that his wrist ached from trying to write it all down in sequence. Initially, he’d only intended to look at the entries he knew Ingo would have had a personal take on, but was startled to find general descriptions of the legendary Pokemon his twin had encountered tucked away at the end of the encyclopedia. He wanted to revisit some older messages and cross-reference them against the final Pokedex, just to sate his own curiosity.

Unfortunately, and as was to be expected, there was no whisper of an Arceus. It only made sense; if it had been officially cited in a Pokedex, what reason would people have to dispute its existence, now? Emmet liked to think he could do better than Volo. If Arceus-- or information on it-- was out of reach, then he would accept that. Having to detour around this specific track wouldn’t derail him, because it wasn’t what really mattered.

For the time being, he would close the book on Arceus-- if only to open it to the next page in this story.