Somewhere and somewhen-- everywhere and everywhen-- Ingo had found himself faced with a creature words could not fully describe. In time he’d learn the terms humans had for it, Almighty Sinnoh, Alpha Pokemon, That Fucking Asshole, but in this ephemeral moment he knew precisely what it was.

Arceus.

He adjusted his stance, all too aware of the empty space at his side, and though he readied himself to retreat if need be, held his ground.

It knelt down on its four legs, the veil of luminosity fading from its body, and craned its neck forward. Even laying down, it easily met him eye to eye.

“Thou wilt do nicely.” It rumbled, vibrations radiating outward as it spoke, almost like the space rippled as it vocalized.

Distracting as the sound itself was, Ingo forced himself not to get caught up in it; the words it carried were far too disquieting to pass off in its favor. Forcing a deep, even breath, he made a deliberate effort to keep his voice steady and authoritative, “What have you done? You’ve already caused considerable disruption to those who are simply going about their day. What reason could you possibly have for removing me from my station?”

“A request, wouldst thou hear one’s plight.” It said, as if he had any say in the matter. Was he supposed to tell it no and hope it put him back out of the kindness of its heart? Though he was prepared to back off if he had to, there was nowhere to go. It continued on, ignorant to his somewhat pessimistic thought process. “A man of warped ideals sought one out, to remake one’s creation as he saw favorable, and in his wake, wrought a trail of destruction. One requires a hero born of ideals in order to mitigate the damage he has caused.”

That… wasn’t exactly what he’d been anticipating, but was close enough that he was able to follow without issue. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m not certain how I’m meant to assist you; you’re clearly referring to my lineage in some capacity, but that seems irrelevant at best and-- if you’ll excuse me for saying-- poorly thought out at worst. Why would you approach someone whose family is best known for tearing an entire region asunder?”

“Recompense?” It huffed, amused in spite of the weight behind every word it spoke. “Nay. Thou art not what one’s design requires, thine own role already firmly entrenched. Thine duty is to see this void filled, to take one’s vision and fully realize it. Thou wilt bear one’s mortal hands.”

Ingo’s attention caught on the wording before the meaning itself, focused on the fact that he’d been correct, ‘request’ had changed to ‘duty’, ‘would’ becoming ‘will’, betraying the fact that it had never meant to give him a choice in the matter. Disturbing as that was in and of itself…

“You want me to have a child.”

That-- that was why it had abducted him? The urge to pivot his weight back, to find some feasible way to flee, intensified. There had never been any expectation on either him or his brother to have kids-- not from their mother, who had struggled throughout their childhoods, but not once taken it out upon them, and neither from Drayden, who simply hadn’t seen children in his future, but took them on nonetheless. It had been an unspoken fact for years, now: the Hero of Ideals’ line would end with them.

At the thought, Ingo’s heart skipped a beat.

Them.

He was here now, but if he refused-- if Arceus wanted this pawn so badly-- he wasn’t the only one it could set its sights on. In that fraction of a second, the gap between that heartbeat and the next, Ingo decided that, if it came to down that, he would accept this responsibility so his brother would be spared of it. If he could fight against it on both their parts, however, he would fight with every fiber of his being.

Not just for the two of them, either. They weren’t the only ones who would be effected if Arceus found what it sought. The thrill of fear subtly shifted into righteous indignation and his lips parted into a scornful grimace. Arceus spoke of warped ideals, but did it even hear itself?

“You’re asking me to have a child for the sole purpose of righting your mistakes. That’s...” He shook his head, searching for words potent enough for the disgust surging through him. Teeth clenched, the best he could find was, “Unconscionable. No one should carry the burden of existing to accomplish a singular goal, to be little more than a means to an end. What if they fail? What if they succeed? What are they meant to do then? Do you realize what that expectation might do to a person? To a child?”

There was a puff of something that might have been laughter, which only caused anger to resonate more intensely under his skin. It ran down his spine like an electric shock, causing him to stand to his full height, and he drew upon every ounce of authority he could muster to say, “I refuse to facilitate such an inhumane course of action. Your design can incorporate someone offering his hand voluntarily or go unfulfilled.”

“Yet unborn, and thou wouldst go in their stead? Fascinating.” In one smooth motion, it got to its feet, staring down at him with severe eyes, red and green narrowing to slits as it considered his words. “One will accept thine condition. When the time to act arrives, one will approach thou first. ‘tis only wise to have… how wouldst thou say it? An alternate route to fall back upon, should unforeseen circumstances arise.”

That-- that didn’t sound right. The semi-defensive posture fell away and, instead, Ingo found himself taking a step forward, hand held in a demand to pull the brakes, but the beginnings of his objection were drowned out by Arceus’s decree.

“In time then, idealist mine.”

And thus he was returned approximately where he’d been plucked, four feet in air, any memory of the one-sided deal seared away by unveiled divinity, and, unbeknownst to him, with passengers in tow.