A picture of Mount Coronet from the Clamberclaw Cliffs wouldn’t normally be anything to bat an eye at. This one, however, is rather distinct from those dozens of photographs that incidentally feature its heights.

The mountain itself stands tall and proud as ever, but something new looms above its peak. Hovering like a dark storm cloud, this anomaly swirls ominously in the sky, an alien addition to Hisui’s landscape. It could possibly-- possibly-- be mistaken for a natural occurrence, if an exceedingly rare one, were it not for the too-bright cracks that creep through it from deep within.

Its presence there is unnerving, almost like one is being watched through it, even without seeing it in person.

When this picture is first taken, it stays unsorted for some time, the photographer uncertain what to do with it.

---

Light the Way: You’ve decided something has to be done about the danger Wayward Cave presents. Craft a torch and observe how the native Pokemon respond to it. COMPLETE

Moonlit Recital: You’ve taken it upon yourself to visit the Fabled Spring on the night of a full moon again, to watch the Clefairy and Clefable dance. Find a good spot to film before night falls. COMPLETE

Peril on the Peaks: Something unnatural is going on atop Mount Coronet, and it's your duty twice over to investigate this phenomenon. Travel to the Temple of Sinnoh to assess the situation.

Outreach: You’re not alone. Convene with your clan to share information and hear what insights they can offer.

---

The recording starts up at the base of a snowy incline.

Unlike previous instances, this is a very short walk and culminates in what is clearly a man-made structure.

White stone pillars, matching the ruined sets in the Celestica and Shrouded Ruins, stand tall and pristine, dozens of them holding up a grand pavilion. Gracing its front is a golden emblem, incredibly similar to the inscription that had so distracted the device’s owner before, and two rows of intricate statues take shelter beneath.

Remarkable though this sight is, it pales in comparison to what lurks above: a swirling void of blackness, sparking with dangerous energy. The cracks that run through it are actually quite thin when looking from up close, but the intensity of the light pouring out makes them visible miles away.

The cameraman’s breath hitches, but he offers no commentary.

Next to him, there’s a soft “Er-lea?”

The frame is nudged to the side and, as it turns and refocuses, the culprit becomes clear. Sneasler blinks down at him with undisguised concern; simultaneously, a hand extends toward her to smooth her fur down, and the camera pans back to the rift torn into the sky.

“It’s nothing, my lady. For a second, I thought… it doesn’t matter, actually. It’s unrelated.”

A discontent grumble sounds from off to the side, but is summarily ignored.

The both of them stand there for several minutes, simply observing the anomaly before them, letting the camera record without interruption.

“What do you think, Sneasler?” Ingo asks about fifteen seconds before turning it off, “Is this what I’m meant to wait for?”

---

I’m sorry I went silent after sending that message; I hope I didn’t worry you. Irida’s Celestica Flute sounded to call the wardens for a meeting, and I’ve elected to wait at the Highland’s base to help escort the others, so I have a moment. Not that they couldn’t manage on their own, but there’s safety in numbers, after all.

I do wonder if it will be entirely necessary. On the walk here, we didn’t see a trace of life, and I can’t say I blame the wild Pokemon for hiding away. The noise the… tear made as it appeared was indescribable. It almost wasn’t a sound at all, but a physical sensation, the same way sound-based attacks effect their target or an alpha roars.

One wouldn’t expect it of a noble or alpha Pokemon, but even Sneasler and Gliscor seem uneasy.

Is there something Pokemon can sense about it that we can’t? If we were able to communicate, could they tell us what they find so frightening about it? Maybe it wouldn’t be anything we couldn’t already surmise, actually; instinct tells me it’s a change for the worse, and in Hisui, a bad feeling can be all the reason you need to stay wary.

I believe I see Lian coming this way. If and when we get to the bottom of this, I’ll let you know.

---

Several pictures are taken as the terrain slowly becomes blanketed in snow. Even when the mountain itself becomes a softened silhouette, the void above it is crisp and distinct, the cracks plainly visible.

Rather than moving directly to the passage leading north, they reveal that the photographer headed south first, and the reason why becomes clear when the scenery begins to change. On the edges of the pictures, other people or Pokemon become visible: a boy carrying a Goomy and flanked by the fearsome Lord Kleavor, a woman walking alongside two Growlithe pups or, at one point, Lord Ursaluna’s mighty paw as he ambles onward.

Notably, these pictures are taken on the most direct paths, where Pokemon would be plainly obvious, but-- with the exception of those Pokemon whose partners are in reach-- none can be seen in the environment. Even these individuals are visible nervous: Goomy tucked tight, the Growlithe clinging to either side of their human. Gliscor’s eyes never leave his trainer.

Neither Ursaluna nor Kleavor can be seen in full at any point, but Sneasler is, and every time she’s caught on camera, she’s seen looking up at the distant peak.

Eventually, one last photograph is taken from what’s recognizably the bridge leading into the Pearl Settlement, and the sequence ends.

---

The camera is switched on indoors for the first time in a number of weeks. It catches a quick glimpse of its owner as he sets it somewhere in front of him, lens up and recording the ceiling of a tent. While there’s the occasional glimpse of movement from somewhere along the edges of the frame, it becomes clear rather quickly that he doesn’t mean to record the visuals, but the discussion brewing.

Unfortunately, that means, to anyone without some grasp of Hisuian, the recording is largely unintelligible.

It’s a young voice that kickstarts the meeting, and its owner keeps it steady as she says, “Do we have any concept what’s going on above the temple?”

Four of the five wardens remain silent, and the one who speaks isn’t the one a viewer might expect.

“We do.” Says Warden Calaba, maintaining her unaffected air, though a subtle undercurrent of disquiet can be heard if one listens closely. “It’s not the first time, after all. This rift is precisely what our nobles helped the hero fight back.”

“That’s… worrisome.” Ingo says, if only to fill the space as they consider that.

“Well it’s certainly not good news.” Calaba replies dryly, “Though it doesn’t seem to have brought disaster down upon us today.”

“But it will?” Asks the first voice. Whatever response she gets doesn’t register in the recording, and must not be worth pursuing, because she changes track shortly thereafter. “What about you, Ingo? Did you see anything that could have caused it in the Highlands?”

He bites back a sigh, but promptly says, “Unfortunately no, Lady Irida. I was at the source of the Fabled Spring at the time it opened, and nothing seemed amiss. Even when Ohnyula and I climbed up to the Temple of Sinnoh after the fact, there was no visible cause.”

“So we don’t know what did it.” Says another man, voice filling the tent in its own distinct way, “Do we know what undoes it?”

It’s largely quiet, but there’s the tell-tale sound of people shifting to look at one individual in particular.

“What catastrophe the hero fought and what he did to fight it back are unclear. All we know is that he had the first nobles’ backing.” Calaba explains, and even she sounds dissatisfied with her own answer.

“That’s something, at least.” Irida declares.

“We know the Pokemon don’t like it, either,” Chimes a voice even more youthful than Irida, “None of ‘em were out in the open the whole way here.”

“That’s very true. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was just inexperience causing Lord Growlithe’s nervousness, but Gachiguma, Basagiri and Ohnyula were all on edge as well.” Palina puts in, concerned and contemplative all in one.

The unknown man snorts, and despite the topic of conversation, legitimately seems amused, “Does that mean something finally cowed that monster of yours, bright eyes?”

“Gliscor was no happier with the circumstances than any other Pokemon-- and if you would be so kind, don’t call him that again.”

There’s a scoff, a sound clearly meant to humor him.

Irida ignores the both of them. “Moving on. Just to be safe, we should ensure all of our nobles are at their best. Palina--”

A small, frustrated noise comes across through the recording, but so quiet in the moment that nobody responds to it.

“—will you please reconsider Lord Growlithe’s evolution?”

Palina’s response is tight and measured, “With all due respect, Irida, he’s still reeling from the loss of his father. He’s not ready to take up the mantle of Windie yet.”

“I understand that, I truly do, but it’s the duty of a noble to put Hisui’s needs above their own. If we’re facing a crisis, we can’t leave this unaddressed.”

The atmosphere goes tense, a conflict waiting in the wings.

It’s only interrupted with an audibly reluctant, “If I can ask...”

Anyone familiar with him would recognize the notes of regret in Ingo’s voice as attention presumably shifts to him. “Warden Calaba, you mentioned that this hero fought with the nobles’ help. When you say that, do you mean only those affiliated with the Pearl Clan, or does this include the Diamond Clan’s nobles as well?”

Next to him, Palina hisses her anticipation for the response.

“The entire retinue.” Calaba says shortly.

It's matched with a succinct, if thoughtful, “I see.”

There’s a low, warning, “Ingo.”

“I’m simply trying to understand.” He argues with a false innocence learned from growing up alongside a sibling, “Please forgive me; I don’t have the benefit of knowing Hisui’s full history.”

“Don’t test them,” Palina whispers, seemingly only caught by her target and the camera, “Trust me.”

Whatever else passes between them is silent.

With the matter of Growlithe’s evolution off the table for the time being, the rest of the discussion is spent on precautions to put into place and establishing signals for if-- or when-- the situation worsens. At the meeting’s end, Palina is the first to step away from the group.

Mid-reach toward the device, Ingo abandons the motion and swiftly turns to catch someone before they follow the woman out.

“Lady Irida,” He says, voice as hushed as it ever gets, “Please wait. I understand the urgency where Windie is concerned, but may I say something?”

“I don’t think I could stop you if I tried,” She responds, ostensibly in good humor, but there’s something weary there, too.

Ingo is careful as he picks his words, slower than usual so as not to stumble over his second language, “Speaking as someone who’s worked with a great many Pokemon, evolution can’t be forced. Different Pokemon have different needs, and in order to facilitate their growth, their handler has to understand that. When Warden Palina says that Lord Growlithe isn’t in a state to fill his role, she’s not only speaking from a place of concern, but stating a simple fact.”

“Growlithe can evolve at any time; she has a fire stone.”

“That isn’t exactly what I meant. Pokemon that evolve prematurely nearly always--” He cuts off there, seeming to recognize a lost cause. “Perhaps you could give her the evening to think on it?”

“If I do that, she’ll just run away again.” Irida argues, waspish.

Ingo pauses for a long moment and then cedes, “I believe this may be more personal than I had previously thought. Apologies, it wasn’t my intention to involve myself in such matters.”

Irida sighs, “I realize you’re trying to help, but I know Palina best; I can handle this.”

“Of course.” He says softly, and backs off.

The door opens and shuts again, and he rounds the area to pick the Arc Phone back up.

Just as Warden Calaba begins to speak again, her tone chiding, the recording is hastily terminated.

---

The next time Palina gives me advice, remind me to follow it.

You wouldn’t think they would cooperate, but Calaba and Gaeric are unrelenting when they’re on the same side of an argument. It almost makes me feel bad for those times we argued with Elesa.