We’ve seen what drives a person to join the ranks of Team Plasma and the like, but what do you suppose drives the leaders?

Team Plasma was a poor example, as their leader didn’t actually share the views he espoused, but suppose for a moment that he had. What would drive a person to want to reroute the natural order?

How much suffering must they have endured?

What Volo said… I don’t agree with him, but I think I can sympathize, to some small extent. Whatever he’s lived through, I can’t compare, because I haven’t truly lost anything, but at times it certainly feels like I have.

If I hadn’t chosen to adapt to the circumstances, would I have considered his proposal? As much as I want to refute the idea, we’ll never know for certain.

You’ve probably guessed as much, but he does remind me of the Plasma defectors, in a way. At its core, his ideal was a noble one, but it could never become truth. I hope he’s able to follow their example, and find a more productive outlet for his passions-- perhaps even to atone for his hand in the disaster that plagued Hisui.

I’m beginning to think that might be the basis for all of this, actually. Volo accused Arceus of being heartless, but if this truly was its mission for me, I don’t believe his judgment holds much weight. It could have been cruel. It could have sent someone who would have torn his plan to shreds and left him that much worse off, that much more desperate to see his perfect world take shape, no matter what it took. I’m not saying that I was the only option, or even the best one, but I think I understand a little better, now.

I also wonder for Giratina. The other plates emphasized its anger and rage, and Volo suggested that it was banished for those traits, but the plate he gave me uses a different word entirely. It says that Arceus ‘gave’ the other side to Giratina. It might have been a punishment in a sense, but I can’t help but think that it was an act of mercy, too. It had to be stopped, but as with Volo, the solution didn’t have to be a cruel one. In its own way, I think it tried to choose kindness.

There was a point at which I truly did despise Arceus for what it had done. I won’t say I’ve forgiven it, but… the evidence suggests that its heart was in the right place, and I’m afraid that’s always been my weakness.

---

Seeking the Remaining Plates: With help from Cogita's hints, you've gathered 17 plates in all. Search for the remaining plate with Volo's aid. COMPLETE

On the Trail of Giratina: A huge shadow has been seen in the Cobalt Coastlands; there's a strong chance it is Giratina, the fearsome Pokemon you recently battled.

---

A series of pictures is taken across what’s recognizably the Cobalt Coastlands, all centered around the same subject. This doesn’t seem to be a Pokemon at first glance, but a massive patch of shade.

When it’s first spotted, it’s on the shore, far in the distance. Half of it lays flat on the sands, half distorts in bizarre fashion in order to stretch up the rocky formations leading to the Deadwood Haunt. Due to the unnatural bend in it, it’s difficult to make the exact shapes out, but it seems somewhat serpentine in nature. In and of itself, that detail speaks volumes.

It’s next seen as a demure spiral curled up in a secluded inlet. The native Spheal here are caught as they mill about, but none of them dare tread on this foreign silhouette. A distinct hand shape is visible just beyond the cliff the photograph is taken from, but this time, the Ambipom is too distant to make a nuisance of itself.

...not so for the Aipom at the photographer’s level, however. There’s a quick interlude as the pre-evolved form grips the Arc Phone in its tail and makes a break for it; whether it’s sheer dumb luck or Rotom decided to take initiative, there’s an entire sequence wherein Ingo is seen chasing after it, culminating in one final snapshot where he has the Aipom by the scruff in one hand, and is gripping the strap of an unfamiliar backpack in the other.

Once the Arc Phone has returned to its owner, the hunt is back on.

The next sighting is from a distance, the foreground studded with dead, bleached white trees and the flying types that flock amongst them. Far, far away, though, out in the water, one of the two curving spires seems to be discolored. By the time the camera operator is near enough to get a better look, it’s sunset, which only highlights the fact that the shadow hasn’t moved one bit. In direct defiance of light, it curls around the rightmost pillar, creating an interesting spiral effect. This picture is followed by a second one, still in the same basic location-- presumably to settle in for the night-- but aimed at the steep slope of Firespit Island where, for once, the entirety of the shadow is visible as it basks like a Yanma on a sunning stone.

Its tendrils have been captured as they sway listlessly, a stark contrast to how they’d been used before. The barbed tail is tucked beneath a crested head, giving the impression of a Liepard napping with one eye open. Strangely, even though night has fallen by this point, the shape is more distinct than it ever was in the daytime.

The photos stop for the evening, interspersed with a brief snippet of video as Rotom zooms through a campsite above the shore. Tangrowth cranes her vines into a nearby tree, searching for berries or small bugs, and Decidueye makes a game of shooting down the leaves she jostles loose. Machamp lounges near a fire, basking in the warmth while Typhlosion pokes her nose into the flames and completely ignores the food cooking above. The lone human among them sits off to one side, overwhelmed-- his lap full of Samurott, trying to get even closer than it already is, while Gliscor clings to his back.

Rotom focuses on none of that. Instead, it spends several minutes antagonizing a nearby Dusclops-- until a length of rotting bandage whips out at it, driving it back to safety. Humiliated, it clicks off before the Arc Phone’s owner can comment on the spectacle it’s made of itself.

It’s overcast when the pictures start up again the next day, which seems to be a mixed blessing. While it’s more difficult to see far into the distance, the shadow proves to be just as crisply visible as it was after nightfall. Looking out from what seems to be the shore of Firespit Island, there’s a portion of water distinct from the rest, both in the discoloration and that the Tentacool seem to be skirting around it. It’s an interesting view, even after the fact-- the shadow doesn’t seem to be thrown atop the water, but deep beneath it, casting a smaller footprint than it had for any prior sighting.

The chase continues.

Next is a somewhat wobbly picture, taken on the threshold where blades of grass begin to poke up from the shore. There are two potential reasons for the unsteady camerawork: it could be the Empoleon charging in headlong from the left, or it could be that the angle suggests the photographer has only just realized they’re standing directly in the shadow’s center.

The last finally-- intentionally-- breaks the pattern. It’s taken from up high, presumably overlooking the same shore, well outside of the alpha’s territory. The picture’s rightmost edge is framed by a sloping cliff, and even through the thick mist plaguing the image, the lights of Firespit Island are visible in the distance. It’s not terribly late in the day, but in this particular spot, it’s dim and it can’t be chalked entirely up to the fog.

In spite of the murky atmosphere all around, the shadow is nowhere to be seen.

---

The camera starts upright, facing the sky. Despite the mist surrounding it on all sides, the sun beams down, through the branches of the tree above.

For the duration, the only visuals are the leaves above swaying in a high wind and the slow-moving cloud bank passing through. The breeze is strong, and the ocean can be heard some ways off. In the opposite direction, there are Pokemon splashing around in a smaller body of water.

Somewhere very nearby, a series of notes rings out. They come from a woodwind instrument, the tones suggesting it’s of organic make. The quality of the play, however, leaves a great deal to be desired; clumsy and off key without any semblance of form, it’s clear that whatever this instrument is, it’s very new to the person attempting to play it.

The entire video carries on like that: a distant ocean, Pokemon playing and a human testing how their flute works. It couldn’t be more mundane, but there’s something special in it, in how much it reminds the viewer-- no matter who they are-- of someone and somewhere they hold dear.

It feels like coming home.