Much like the city surrounding it, Drayden’s house was fixed in time; the only things that had changed since the twins had called it home were its number of inhabitants and the photographs on the walls.

Drayden himself was running behind schedule today, caught up in an impromptu meeting with Clay regarding league business, and had told the both of them to let themselves in. This left them to find their own amusements in the interim and, for the moment, they were busy looking through the curated collection decorating the hall.

Neither of them was terribly bothered by pre-transition pictures, but Drayden was conscientious enough to keep most of those stored away, with exceptions for outstanding occasions like when they’d been hired on as depot agents at the station; those few exemptions found a home in his study, where any visitor to his house wouldn’t just stumble upon them. Any appearance they had in a high traffic area, like the hallway they were currently haunting, was from when they were much younger and, therefore, all but impossible to gender, or from after coming out.

Those pictures were fun to laugh at, but not terribly interesting. The ones worth paying attention to were landscapes of Opelucid from when Drayden had been their age, pictures of Pokemon who had since passed, or older family photos.

In general, Drayden took just as much care to remain sensitive to their mother’s circumstance as he did the twins’, but there were a few from before-- those pictures Lane also treasured enough to see on display. If anything, they were the ones that Ingo sometimes found odd to contemplate. He spent a good minute studying a photograph of Lane, Drayden and their own parents, all of them standing in front of a much older house he knew had been to the northwest, each making an attempt to smile for the photographer, and only one entirely succeeding.

Distantly, he wondered if the passengers would inherit that, too. He hoped not. Maybe whatever genetic loophole Emmet had found would work out for them as well.

He let himself be pulled away, directed without a fuss to a picture of their grandfather’s Pokemon, where Emmet excitedly pointed out an abnormality in the Braviary’s crest. The plumage was muted by nature of technological limitations, but the shape was peculiar, and they found themselves lost in discussion of what might have caused it until a heavy thump drew their attention.

The solid wall of dragons damming the path between the hallway and entrance parted as Haxorus extracted herself from her mother’s hold. Both twins swiveled their heads to stare into the foyer, the hall flanked on either side by a draconic form. The elder Haxorus crooned low in greeting as Drayden opened the door, but theirs showed no such restraint today and hurried over to say hello.

Somewhere behind the threshold, there was a dry guffaw, “Easy there, girl.”

Once she’d had her moment to see who was there, Ingo whistled to her and, obediently, she fell back into the entryway.

Clay stepped in first-- Drayden strict in his manners where guests were concerned-- and gave them each a critical once-over.

“Evenin’ boys,” He said, giving his hat a shallow-- if cordial-- tilt. After the second to take the sight of them in, he added, “How’s circumstance treatin’ ya?”

Emmet inclined his head to the side, deferring to Ingo, who subconsciously mirrored his brother. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. That’s actually what leads our tracks here today.”

Clay was silent for moment, clearly mulling over his words, “Yer sure there’s no one who needs a swift ass whoopin’?”

Meeting Clay’s eyes, Ingo briefly moved on to Drayden as he stepped in, the door falling shut behind him, then back, “I’m aware you’ve been in contact since the announcement; exactly how much has Drayden told you?”

“Hasn’t named names, if that’s what yer askin’.” It was said with an undeniable jeer underscoring it, almost disbelieving that Drayden would withhold such information. He nodded, the angle of it slightly askew. “That one there made some noise I can’t rightly say I understood.”

“Nothing incriminating!” Emmet insisted as his twin’s attention landed on him and, praying it stayed under his breath where it belonged, Ingo muttered back, “But was it blasphemous?”

There was a pause and a hushed, matter-of-fact, “Define ‘blasphemy’.”

He rolled his eyes and moved on, unwilling to pursue the joking tangent when they were here for a reason. While it hadn’t been a subject he’d revisited recently, the question of whether or not to tell Clay was something Ingo had considered shortly after their text conversation, so it wasn’t without some matter of forethought that he said, “If it would set your mind at ease, I can briefly explain why we’ve routed around the matter thus far; that might help you arrive at an understanding.”

“’Might’ being the operative word.” Emmet grumbled next to him.

Drayden, meanwhile, cupped the entirety of his upper face in a hand and shook his head, well aware of what his old friend’s answer would inevitably be.

“We’re not having this conversation in my foyer.” He eventually said, and motioned to herd the lot of them-- the Haxorus included-- to a more appropriate avenue of discussion. In this case, his sitting room.

The dragons didn’t worry about containing themselves to any particular area or amount of space, sprawling in grand waves of olivine scales. Conversely, the humans arranged themselves opposite one another, Drayden and Clay on one side of the room, Emmet and Ingo on the other-- though only one of them was playing along.

“Ingo,” Drayden said tiredly, watching his nephew pace the length of the room, “Sit down.”

“He’s fine.” Emmet argued and, as he passed by, Ingo offered a curt nod of thanks.

Finally, he stopped, pivoted to look at Clay and bit the bullet, “You’re familiar with the entity known as ‘Almighty Sinnoh’, correct?”

“’Course, though I can’t say I hold up the customs ‘round it. Heard some folks chalked up some kind’a ruckus to it a few months back, but ya’ll know what those type are like.”

“...indeed. Incidentally, the matter in question occurred at the station, and was caught by the security system; Drayden helped us refine an inquiry and learned that Almighty Sinnoh is a mythical Pokemon called Arceus.” He paused for a moment, gauging Clay’s expression. While he’d decided he was comfortable enough informing the man-- a family friend since well before Drayden had become one of their guardians-- it served a somewhat different purpose to the meeting months prior. If Clay showed any sign that this wasn’t going to help his approach to the situation, Ingo would drop the matter.

For now, though, it seemed all clear.

“It approached me prior to its departure. There was no physical altercation and to my knowledge, no one was harmed, but by the following month, I found that I was carrying the passengers.”

Clay’s expression stayed completely-- impressively-- unmoved, and with a flat disbelief, he said, “’m sorry, kid, can ya run that by me one more time?”

“Unless you’re inclined to join Emmet’s crusade against the deity of creation, there’s no one to hold responsible for the passengers’ conception.” He said bluntly.

“That’s...” Clay stopped short, holding pointed-- concerned-- eye contact with Drayden.

“I know how it sounds.” He said in response, shooting an apologetic look in the twins’ direction, “I had also thought that it was a trauma response, at first.”

A small, vaguely offended puff of air escaped Emmet, and that was what drew Ingo from the edge of the room, where he’d arbitrarily stopped pacing. Neither of the older men took notice as he settled next to his brother, focused on their sub-conversation.

“As Ingo himself noted, the timeline matches perfectly, but I can’t say I was wholly convinced until… some force confirmed it by interfering with our response. I truly wish I could be more specific than that, but the best I can say is that it was something old and powerful, presumed to be Arceus.” While his hands were steady as always, laced together and resting on his knee, there was a familiar tension in his knuckles-- almost as if he was reliving the experience.

Clay didn’t say anything, but the dubious tilt of his mouth than made up for that fact.

“It must be difficult to believe second-hand. You don’t have to.” While Emmet’s words sounded short, Ingo, at least, recognized that it was meant to be an easy out if this had proven to be too much.

“An’ a‘course you’re convinced,” Clay said as he finally turned back to the room at large-- without judgment, in spite of how it sounded. It was a sincerely good-faith question when he asked, “What makes you so sure, then?”

“Nothing else makes sense.” Emmet said, the tilt of his head almost challenging, “I also witnessed Arceus’s presence. Legendary Pokemon are still Pokemon. There is always a reason for what they do. I don’t see what else it might have accomplished that day.”

Which was to say nothing of the fact that Ingo had been certain, after Arceus scolded them for the first time, and he was inclined to believe his brother.

“...fair ‘nuff.” It was gruff and unconvinced, but willing to let that matter go if it kept them moving. “Now ’scuse me if this comes ‘cross the wrong way, but what in all its space would Almighty Sinnoh want with you?”

It saw an answer in a wry, “Children, apparently,” which earned Ingo an annoyed shake of the head. In short order it was followed by a more sincere, “I don’t know. I don’t believe we’ll ever truly know, and hesitate to say we would want to understand its logic. If it thought this course a reasonable one, its perspective may be incompatible with humanity’s.”

“Pokemon’s a Pokemon.” Clay jerked his head up in the first half of a nod, directed at Emmet, “Yer right ‘bout that. There’s no teachin’ a Krookodile to lead a tea ceremony, no matter how hard ya try.”

He remained silent on the rest of what had been discussed, but that was to be expected. There was no rushing Clay, not in day to day life, and not in the way he thought; over the years, that much had stayed as consistent as the ground types he favored.

It was… irritating that they’d gotten so horribly off course, but Ingo couldn’t bring himself to be upset about it. He would never consider this a waste of time. How much Clay chose to believe was his own business, but it couldn’t be claimed that they hadn’t done their due diligence.

That said, his inner conductor rankled at how completely the timetable had changed. They needed to depart sooner than later, and had yet to so much as broach the topic they’d come here to discuss.

“If you don’t have any more questions, that brings us to the reason behind our visit today.” Two pairs of eyes landed on him with renewed interest, Drayden’s a belated recollection and Clay’s simple curiosity, “Emmet and I have been discussing the situation for some time, and recently came to the conclusion that we’ll be raising the passengers.”

Clay’s face twitched, but he didn’t say anything, and Ingo was inclined to pass it off as… not unimportant, but reflexive. Given the turnaround Clay was working with, his reaction could only be knee-jerk, lacking any time to consider the matter in any depth. In a different world, wherein he’d wanted the passengers from the beginning and said as much, he likely would have gotten a similar-- if slightly more explosive-- reaction from Elesa.

...who was her own beast, and precisely the reason he’d wanted to approach Lane and Drayden first.

In a direct contrast to Clay, Drayden’s face remained characteristically impassive, “You’re completely sure about that?”

“Yes.” He insisted, firmly meeting the challenge and leaving little room for argument.

Their uncle’s attention shifted from one twin to the other, and Emmet waved a hand, all but rejecting it. “I have already had to restate my position in order for him to accept it. Why do I need to convince you as well?”

There was a beat of silence, and then a single, throaty snort, “I suppose you don’t, just so long as you know what you’re setting yourselves up for.”

The unforeseen detour left them with little time to socialize after the fact-- which was just as well since nobody had any idea how to follow that discussion-- but it was enough to act as a bail off before coming to a complete halt. It didn’t feel like they were leaving anything unaddressed. Unresolved, perhaps, but that was another matter; it was only fair to give Clay time after dropping the equivalent of an Electrode on him.

Whatever else might have been on his mind, he offered them each a nod and a promise to be in touch. Drayden, of course, was unable to let them go without seeing them to the door personally.

“Get home safely, you two. Look after one another.”

And it was… odd.

That wasn’t an unusual thing for Drayden to say when they parted ways, but there was a firm rhythm to it. Usually he made eye contact on the ending request, but today he hadn’t; his attention had veered off to the right.

He nearly brought it up with Emmet as they charted a course to the Opelucid subway station, but a look at his brother’s expression-- lips slightly downturned and nose wrinkled in thought-- stilled his tongue.

Another time, perhaps.