The device doesn’t ring, but it does… intone in a way that no human could replicate. How it manages to do so is a mystery, because the call picks up instantly. For the first time in many months, the Arc Phone has connected.

On the caller’s side of the line, the world is almost silent. There are no Pokemon cries in the backdrop, or even the sound of footsteps.

The same is true on the opposite end. Absolute silence.

“Why are you doing this?” Asks the caller, voice rough with emotion, “I did what you wanted, by your own metric. What did I do wrong? Am I meant to accomplish something else entirely? You were happy to give me orders before, so why won’t you answer me, now?”

The line remains quiet.

“Were you ever going to send me home, or were you content to let me move ahead with false hope?”

This accusation, too, goes unanswered.

“You don’t even care, do you? Is this your idea of a game? Am I just the puzzle piece you decided to place upside-down to see if it might fit?”

Nothing.

Snow crunches on the speaker’s end, loudly and all at once. His voice is warped by the way it enfolds on his either side. “I was correct that first night in the blizzard, wasn’t I? I really am going to die here; you just aren’t going to grant the mercy of making it a swift end.”

“WAIT.” Booms the Arc Phone, startling a strangled half-gasp half-sob from its recipient. “THY TIME SHALL COME.”

---

When the Arc Phone hasn’t moved in several hours and it becomes clear that its holder has no intention of changing his idle course, location services engage of their own volition. It’s the second time this has happened since the device's creation, and just as it had that night, its call reaches across Hisui to find the Pokemon it’s meant for.

Sneasler has no way of knowing who or what called to her, but departs all the same. If anyone was so inclined to check the app that made this possible, they might see a pixelated facsimile make its way across the digital Alabaster Icelands, but caught in the throes of despair, the Arc Phone’s owner is too busy giving himself another case of hypothermia to notice any such thing.

When Sneasler enters viewing range, the ping goes silent.

---

The Arc Phone goes untouched for a full week. It isn’t activated to do so much as check the time, not even once.