After Dad and I went home that day, the next few weeks seemed to play out on their own. Several trials took place, each of which condemned Valerie and the rest of the Insurgents to their fates at the hands of a one-sided jury and a mountain of evidence. They were all imprisoned for years, if not their entire lives.

I was given a month by the League Board to be with my family, who now consisted of just Dad and my Pokémon. That month went by all too quickly, and I officially took over the role of the Hoenn League Champion.

But in that time, the ecstasy and bliss I felt from being reunited with Dad and reentering a semblance of a normal life faded, being replaced with... nothing. That was literally what it felt like. Hour after hour, day after day, week after week, I felt empty. And I was reminded of the reason every time I looked at the empty Poké Ball sitting within the equally as empty Mega Brace, the framed photo of my former partner and me mounted above it on the wall.

Then the days after that month became weeks.

The radiant shimmer my stickpin once held had faded to a dull glint, perfectly mirroring how I personally felt. Nothing I said, did, or experienced seemed to change this. Not even when I battled. The activity I had said time and time again was my passion had now become a stale, lifeless occurrence. It was every last bit dull a role that I dreaded when I was still set to become Devon's president.

When I wasn't battling challengers, I was sparring with the Elite Four, as well as the Gym Leaders. I crushed them each and every time, the task becoming increasingly easier with every battle. Everyone I battled was shocked that I could defeat their teams of six so easily with only five Pokémon, but I refused to fill that sixth slot. I knew their strategies and learned and overcame every last tactic they threw at me. Battling had become, for a lack of a better word, boring.

But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. Battling, while incredibly dull now, still gave me the slightest bit of life. It got me out of the house and away from the memorial that I both loved and hated. And it reminded me of what once was. I had promised Meteor that I would keep fighting, that I would be strong. So I was, and it was all that I was. I was nothing but strong.

And so the weeks became months.

Dad was far from ignorant about my stagnant mental state, how lifeless I was. In fact, he tried his hardest to help me. I saw counselors, psychiatrists, and therapists, all of them trying to help me. But there was nothing about me that could be helped. That still didn't stop them from trying.

I was prescribed medication after medication, all of which I either refused or disposed of. They didn't need to be wasting these pills on me when there were people out there in much worse states than I was that could actually benefit from them. And I couldn't stand the idea of drugging myself so that I would feel temporary, artificial mood swings. I wanted to be myself, not some fake me hopped up on a pharmacy's worth of antidepressants. I wanted to be the person that Meteor and I both knew existed. So where was that real me?

Eventually, those months became years.

For three long years I was a hardened, soulless shell. All strength and solitude with nothing on the inside. In that time I was able to construct a delicate mask on which the slightest range of emotions could be expressed. My friends and dad bought it, and the medications finally stopped. At that point I accepted that this was who I was meant to be, the price of becoming what I wanted most.

Then it happened.

The day after my nineteenth birthday, the day I was set to move out on my own to Mossdeep so I could be closer to my job, there was a knock at the door. Figuring it was the movers here to assist Dad and me with transporting what few possessions I wanted to take to my new home, I was the one to answer the door. Instead, a woman with graying brunette hair and amber eyes greeted me.

"Good day, sir! Is this the Stone residence?" she asked.

I took a moment to look over her before I answered. In my time as Champion, I had accumulated quite a few admirers, unfortunately of all ages. That was another reason why I personally had decided to move to Mossdeep. But she didn't seem like she was asking for any autographs, not to mention that she instantly didn't call me out on who I was. So trusting my gut like I always did, I decided that she wasn't here to do anything "fangirl"-y. "Yes, it is," I answered. "Do you wish to speak with me, or my dad?"

"If you're Steven, then you're the person I'm here for!" she said. "I'm sorry for not introducing myself. I'm Molly Thompson, I used to be good friends with your mother." She held out her hand, and I shook it. "I was the person who gave your mom your Beldum."

My chest clenched painfully, my throat tightening. "O-oh, you were..?" I asked, pretending like nothing was wrong.

"Yes, and I know about what happened to it," she said. I pulled in a swift breath, pushing down the urge to correct her about my partner's identity. "I know it's late for condolences, but I want to give you this." From the large satchel she carried she took out a metal and glass cylinder-shaped container, and what I saw inside it made my heart drop.

It was a Pokémon Egg, its metallic-like surface colored blue-green.

"Th-that's a..." I trailed off, too shocked to continue.

"I know your Pokémon could never be replaced," Molly said. "I just wanted to know if you would accept this. My own Metagross passed away very recently, and this was the last Egg it produced. Your Beldum came from that same Metagross, so this Pokémon is essentially its younger sibling. Again, are you willing to take this? I'm not a Trainer in any way, this Beldum wouldn't be able to achieve its full potential."

Part of me wanted to refuse. She had said she didn't want to replace Meteor, but it still didn't stop it from being a dilemma. Could I handle training another Beldum, soon-to-be Metagross? Would I unintentionally compare them to who preceded them? Would they just serve as a heart-breaking reminder of what once was? But the truth was that I had to move on. As much as it pained me, I couldn't cling to the past until it turned to dust.

"Yes, of course I'll take it," I said quickly with a nod equally as fast. She handed the Egg over, and I took it, holding it carefully despite the sturdy, secure container enclosing it.

"Thank you so much!" she said, relieved. "As soon as you think it's starting to hatch, take the Egg out of the capsule and keep it in a safe, secure area until it does."

"Thank you. I'll take good care of them," I said.

Molly arched an eyebrow. "Them?" She looked confused before she seemed to dismiss it as perhaps a slip of the tongue on my part. "But that's good to hear. It was nice to finally meet you, Steven. Have a good day!"

"Likewise to you, Ms. Thompson," I replied, nodding.

The moment she turned to leave I went inside. I was up the stairs and in my mostly-empty room, container in hand, before Dad could even ask who had been at the door.

   I carefully placed the container on my desk. Unease, melancholy, and even nervousness twisted my insides into knots as I stared at the Egg. Of course the first strong emotions I felt in years would be ones associated with negativity. This was probably the worst time something like this could have happened considering the chaos that came with moving, but I knew I could deal with it.

And I did. The Egg didn't so much as twitch until almost a week after I was settled in Mossdeep. By then I had purchased the first Poké Ball I had in years in preparation of my new teammate. I was so tempted to purchase a regular Poké Ball, but when the Beldum hatched I didn't want to remind them of their older sibling, so I went out of my way and bought ten Poké Balls just so I would get a Premier Ball.

Then another week later, it happened. I had just gotten back from a training session involving the new Dark-type Elite, Sidney, when I heard cracking coming from my bedroom. I rushed in just in time to see the Egg splintering apart, a bright light similar to the luminescence an evolving Pokémon would give off spilling from the widening cracks. A second later the Egg had fully broken apart, and a Beldum formed from the white light.

I stood there, speechless, for nearly a minute, my eyes wide and my hand covering my mouth. The Beldum noticed me, and we stared at each other for a moment longer. Out of the two of us, the Beldum was the first to speak.

Hi! she said in a bright, cheery voice. I named her Talla, after the metallic luster that almost all Pokémon of her type shared.

Talla was like her brother in several ways. They both shared an innate sense to protect me as well as being equally kind and friendly. But unlike Meteor, Talla was more well and soft-spoken, on top of not being as open with her thoughts. She reminded me of myself, actually, how I was before I started my journey. For a while, I didn't tell her about Meteor. I wanted her to be the one to ask about him.

I've seen that picture of you and that Metagross so many times now, she said one day. You two seemed happy together... Who were they? With that, I told her.

   At first I meant to do nothing more than simply inform her of who her brother had been, but it escalated the more questions she asked. I told her everything, and I mean everything. By the end of it, my throat was dry and sore from talking so much and tears were welling up from the nostalgic but horribly saddening trip down memory lane. Talla didn't say much for the rest of the day, not until the next one rolled around.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you told me about my brother and what he meant to you. Because of that, I want to make a request, she said. This may seem like a strange thing to ask, but can I have his name?

   Her eye widened when she realized what she said, and she quickly tried to rephrase things.

   I-I don't mean I want it because I intend to replace him or something, I couldn't ever do that to you! What I'm trying to say is that I want to share his name in honor of him. I want to prove to you that I belong on your team, and by having Meteor's name I could have something to fight for and live up to! So can I please be renamed? Am I worthy enough to be Meteor the Second?

How could I have turned down something like that? I agreed, and Talla became Meteor the Second, or just Meteor to be more simplistic.

   With Meteor by my side training to be as good as her namesake, my passion for battling along with my enjoyment of life altogether began to return.

   Little by little, I began to regain my true sense of self. And when Meteor was able to Mega Evolve for the first time, it felt like I was myself once again. The real me, the one Meteor the First would have been proud to see me be.

—~*~—

The next six years seemed to have flown by after that day. Countless more battles, life experiences, and so much more passed in a flash. And now I stand in an empty Hall of Fame, gazing upon the new Champion portrait that replaced mine on the Registration Scanner.

   Again, I always knew she was special. The moment I met her in Granite Cave and had a premonition about what she would achieve and overcome, I knew she would be the perfect person to take over my position. And she has.

I take a moment to glance at the two nearly decade-old pictures of a certain ice blue-haired teenager and his mineral-based team now hanging on the wall, mounted beside a duo of pictures displaying a brunette in a green dress, her Mega Altaria standing out from her other Pokémon. I smile at the memories they conjure, and bidding a final farewell to the Hall, I leave.

As I exit the League building, I glance at my PokéNav, which has become a paint-chipped relic of the past. It is close to five in the afternoon, two hours before Dad would be leaving work. I could easily have visited him tomorrow, after all, I now have all the time in the world to do what I want. But I want to talk to him about something important. I send out Maverick and inform her of where we are going. After a few Agilities and me donning my goggles, we take off for Rustboro City.

The flight is relatively quick, and I soon find myself walking the familiar streets of the city I grew up in. Several people recognize me, which isn't surprising, and I end up signing a few autographs, a staple celebrity obligation that has always embarrassed me even after doing it for almost a decade. That is another thing I'm happy about now that I'm no longer the Champion. Perhaps the social smothering may die down.

I arrive at my old home twenty minutes after seven. This isn't the first time I've shown up at Dad's unannounced since I moved. But no matter how untimely it is, I'm always greeted with a smile. And this time is no different.

   Dad answers the door, and I'm graciously invited inside. Strangely, he offers me coffee despite the time. Since I'm planning to stay up late tonight anyways, I accept. We make ourselves comfortable in the living room, and before I can say anything, Dad speaks.

"Oh yes, something came in the mail today for you, son," he says, handing over a sealed envelope. "I don't know why they sent it here. It's clear that this isn't where you live."

I examine the envelope curiously. "There's no return address..." I muse. All I see on its paper surface is my name, the address for Dad's home, and a generic stamp of a conch shell. It's most likely another fan letter, but that doesn't stop me from opening it. Even if I don't like my constant presence in the media, I still appreciate receiving what my fans send.

There are two things in the envelope. A small slip of paper, and a photograph. The photo is of the sundial in Kalos' Anistar City. The shot was taken during sunset, the perfect time to see the sundial, so I've heard.

   In the photo I see a couple of miscellaneous sightseers, a trio of teenagers striking various poses while having their picture taken by one of two adults, and another pair of adults that are in center frame.

   One of them is a woman in her mid twenties with short brunette hair and blue eyes, and the other is an older man with gray hair, a kind smile, and eyes similar to those of the woman's. She rings a bell for me but I can't quite place her. I then look at the paper. There are four words written on it.

You were right, Steven!

I was... "right?" I stare confusedly at the photo, sifting through my memories. The brunette woman in the photo... I know her from somewhere, I know I do! And then it hits me.

"No, it's fine. I'm just happy that you told me how you felt. Besides, I know you won't be gone forever. You'll find your dad."

"Do you really think so?"

"I know so, and I don't need a premonition to tell you that."

"Faye..." I murmur, my eyes widening. The last time we spoke was nine years ago, during which she had decided to search for her dad. No wonder I didn't recognize her at first, she looks so different now. Looking at the smiling Faye in the photo beside the man, both sharing the same eyes and smile, it becomes clear to me what this means. She searched region after region, and in the end she finally found him.

"What is it?" I hear Dad ask. "Can you tell who it's from?

I look up, slipping the photo and note back into the envelope. "An old friend," I answer simply, smiling. I hope that Faye and her dad would be able to reconnect. They certainly appeared happy together. Perhaps I'll see you again soon, and we can reconnect as well, I think wistfully.

"Oh, that's nice." Dad doesn't press further, knowing that if I want him to know something, I would share it. He then changes gears on the subject. "So what have you been doing recently?" he asks.

"Quite a few things," I answer, impatiently blowing on the steam rising from my cup to cool it. "There was another challenger today. May Oras, the young lady who assisted with Team Magma's downfall." My premonition all those years ago in Sootopolis had been no falsity. An organization like that of the Insurgents had been attempting to awaken Groudon, an act that had initially succeeded but failed once May intervened. Odd, that for once I had no real influence on the outcome of one of my visions.

"Oh really? I think I know what the conclusion was," he says, chuckling. He then looks at my expression and his jaw drops. "Wait... You're not saying that you..."

"Lost?" I finish, grinning. "Yes, I did."

"But why?" he asks, astonished. "I thought you loved your position! Why did you give it up?"

I shake my head. "I didn't 'give it up.' I battled her fairly and she defeated me. And I'm glad that she did. I've been in the spotlight for far more than enough time now, and I believe that we need someone new to bring some life to the Hoenn League."

He looks pensive for a moment. "If that is really what you think and you're fine with..." He sighs. "Then I have no right to object or try to change your mind. You're an adult, you can make your own decisions," he says acceptingly. His eyes then flicker with a spark of hopefulness. "But now that you aren't the Champion, do you think you'd be willing to... continue the family tradition?"

I can't help but wince when I hear that. It was an inevitable question, but I was somewhat hoping he wouldn't ask it. There's no point in being indecisive or changing the subject, so I tell him the truth.

"Just because I'm no longer the Champion doesn't mean I won't stop being a Trainer. And even if I do take up a different profession, it wouldn't be running Devon. A job of that sort is in no way appealing to me." I break eye contact with him, staring down shamefully into the swirling blend of cream in my cup. "I'm sorry for letting you down yet again, Dad."

"It's okay, son. I didn't expect you to agree, but I thought I'd give it another shot. It isn't the end of the world if you don't want to do this," he says, and I look up. He's smiling, and my spirits lift. Even after all this time, he still keeps my thoughts in mind. "What would you do, though?" he then inquires.

I sip on my coffee before answering him, appreciating its light, sweet flavor. "I'd become a geologist," I say with no trace of doubt in my response.

"Geology," Dad laughs, shaking his head. "Why did I expect anything else?" I let out a laugh as well, and things are lighthearted for a few moments. "Your mother would have approved of that," he says.

I nod, still keeping up my smile and the mood. This isn't meant to be sad. "Yes, she would have, wouldn't she?"

"But based on what you're saying, it sounds like you're planning on leaving Hoenn."

"Perhaps," I say, shrugging as I place my cup on the coffee table. "And if I do, it wouldn't be for a while, however. I'd like to make sure everything is running smoothly at the League before I vanish into the ether."

Dad raises an eyebrow. "With your amount of stage presence, I don't think you'll be 'vanishing' anytime soon!" he says.

"Perhaps I'll change my mind in that time. Who knows what may happen?" I say, trying to sound mysterious.

I highly doubt that! Meteor interjects in a tone filled with playful skepticism. I know you, and you won't change your mind.

Sh-she has a point! Orbit adds.

And you're both doing a great job ham-handing that point in even though I know it myself, I retort, a corner of my mouth quirking up into a smile that would go unseen by the Psychic-types. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Dad stifling a yawn. "Has everything been okay around here?" I ask, now noticing faint dark circles beneath his eyes.

"More than usual, surprisingly," he answers before taking a long drink from his cup. "We're in the planning stages of the next PokéNav model, trying to get permission to work with the makers of the Xtransceiver to make a hybrid device of sorts. We tried to get in touch with Lysandre Labs to make a deal involving the usage of the Holo Caster, but they refused the offer. It's been nothing but late-night work days and little opportunities to rest. You're fortunate to have caught me on a day where I'm home before eleven."

That partially explains the reason for the coffee. "Eleven? Don't you leave for work at six? Dad, you know sleeping so little isn't very good for your health," I say with concern. I should know, that had been my life for so long.

He sighs heavily and closes his eyes. "Yes, and when I do manage to sleep, it isn't very restful," he says, massaging his eyelids with his thumb and index fingers. "I suppose the stress is getting to me."

I look down, nervously toying with my rings before chastising myself and stopping. I've had that habit for years now and still can't seem to break it. But meanwhile I'm worrying about Dad. What can I do for him? I have fallen far out of touch, not to mention practice, with the world of business management and marketing. And I'm positive no amount of begging or bribing on my part would help anything.

I then catch sight of a worn, black leather cord that managed to sneak its way out from under the collar of my immaculate white dress shirt. The cord that my Lunar Wing hangs from. I hold in a somewhat bitter laugh. Nearly twenty-six years old, and I still need the equivalent of a child's nightlight or stuffed Teddiursa to keep the possibility of nightmares at bay. Do I even need this anymore? And I get an idea.

Careful to not snap the string, I remove the still-brilliantly glimmering feather from around my neck. Gathering the string up in my palm, I offer it to Dad. He looks at it questioningly, and I explain what it is, relaying to him the same explanation Faye had given me. After telling him I finish with, "I don't need it any longer. I think you could get more use out of it than I can."

He considers it for a moment before taking it, thanking me. Could I be condemning myself to even worse nightmares than the ones I suffered when I was sixteen? Perhaps. But this isn't the only Lunar Wing in existence, and I think I can now face what lurks beyond the veil of unconsciousness.

Afterwards we spend a while talking, passing the time with whatever comes to our minds. The next time I look at the clock I realize that it is almost nine-forty at night. I then feel bad that I've wasted precious time that Dad could have been using to catch up on his sleep.

"Are you sure you want to leave? You're welcome to spend the night," Dad offers when I tell him that I'm leaving.

I shake my head, kindly refusing. "It's okay. It doesn't take very long for me to get to Mossdeep if Maverick has used enough Agilities," I say.

"I'm glad we were able to talk like this," he then says." You haven't been over here in a while..."

"I know. I'll try to make an effort to visit you more often," I promise, standing up. I begin to leave the room, but before I exit into the hallway, I look back. "Dad?"

"Yes, son?" he answers.

I pause before saying, "Thank you... for everything."

He smiles. "Of course. You don't have to thank me."

I return his smile with a nod. I just feel that I had to say that. Satisfied, I leave the room, closing the door behind me.