Nothing about an exploding head follows any logic stream. How does a head just burst and blood spills all over and my clothes escape unscathed and the blood just vanishes from the tiles? And all this is happening in forward chronology!

It makes no sense in chronological order to self-destruct and quickly recover a head and strike me. This isn't real at all! This can't be real!

The Hypno steps forward. "Yan, you are resisting."

My head spins and there's an excruciating pain coursing through my veins. This... This gives me a déjà vu sensation, and it's downright cruel!

The Hypno repeats itself.

This doesn't seem like what a stalker would say, right? And my surroundings have frozen in place. Is this my subconscious? Is the Hypno my subconscious, guiding my instincts and my journey into the past?

This would make some sense in a fantastical way.

After all, I am shaking and my knees buckle, causing me to collapse.

"What am I resisting?"

I flinch. The words I would usually scream but never hear materialised now become audible, concrete, heavy.

"You seem to be perplexed now. There's no need to fear me." The Hypno pats my head. I blink and it wipes me eye bags. "Right now, we are in stasis."

"Stasis?"

The Hypno nods. "You may not understand, but the haywire explosion was not supposed to happen. It appears, your defence mechanism is acting up."

I frown and cock my head sideways, my hands clutching my heart. "So... I'm the one who did that? The... explosion?"

"Who else?" Hypno rolls his eyes.

A thump bursts in my eardrums. And another. And another. And another.

"What am I supposed to do now?"

"Right now, you need to calm down. You need to get through this stage, alright?" Hypno pauses and swings his white ring around with his index finger. "Look at it this way. It's like a game, and you need to pass this level to head to the next one. At the end of the game lies all the answers you seek."

"Even an escape?"

"That's up to you," Hypno says and strolls to a silver grave, taking a bunch of chrysanthemums, uncaring if it's disrespecting the dead. "Don't give me that look. Only I visit these graves."

Glancing around, I see the various inscriptions on the graves, but one particular thing sticks out. The names are all blurred beyond legibility.

I pull myself together and get onto my feet. "Are they all close to you?"

"Of course." Hypno glances at its feet. "Each and every one of them. Precious to me."

The full-blown sombreness in its expression is enough to make me flinch once more. This Hypno must be like the Absol, losing so many people and Pokémon in its life.

But it shouldn't matter to me. If this is the case, this Hypno definitely isn't a part of me. It is unlikely for me to have lost family and friends to the Distortion World. I am sure of that.

"You see, something must first be difficult, for it to be easy." Hypno runs its fingers through my olive hair. "You have to accept whatever you see, and not fight against the tide of truth. Neither should you attempt to mould it because it's a futile endeavour. The tide returns to the ocean and like Moltres, it rises again, in a new form, to bring forth its message."

"Is it because I distorted the past by doing the explosion?" I hold its warm hands and push it out of my hair. "But if you said it's a defence mechanism, then what makes you think I can stop it?"

Hypno sighs and sits beside me, and we end up as two silhouttes before the golden grave, framed by silver ones where various flowers adorn the tiles and air.

"You can stop it, if you want to. If you give up now, then it's the end of the game. You won't be able to escape, you know?"

My mouth splits automatically, but I know not how to argue, besides slouching and wrapping my hands round my knees, rocking to the music of spirits' wails.

The Hypno shifts a while and we face each other. He cups my face as he passes me a cursory glance.

"We just enjoy searching the wrong places and thinking we have the right answers. Later we are contradicted and we grow sheepish, and claim that our answers are decidedly false, that it was all a setup for others to gain confidence and validation."

I blink. I can't say Hypno is wrong, but it isn't exactly right either.

"The stasis will end soon, now that your heart is resolved," Hypno mumbles. "Afterwards, you and I will be back to our passive roles."

"And when will this stasis happen again?"

I want to know more about Hypno, tear apart all that sadness and pain for it to know how comforting its presence is to me.

"You are the one who decides that, Yan."

The flames of the candles lining the walls go out, as if a rush of wind emerges, and the world around me darkens.

When light returns, I am back facing the channeller, the Hypno no longer there as a witness.

But nothing else happens.

I merely step back and where there was an odd keystone, there is instead a piece of paper. The keystone lies in my pocket, as I rummage through it. I blink as a memory tugs at my mind.

The voice of the possessed channeller spells defeatism and despair. "Take me to the well."

So... was the Hypno ever there or did I conjure it in my imagination? Was the Hypno yet another defence mechanism, for comfort and security?

That must be it.

At this point I perceive that there is no one but the channeller and myself here. This scene must be before all that killing, the calm before the storm.

I leave the Lost Tower and unwrap the piece of paper at the entrance, that instructs me to seal the possessed channeller.

Now I am backtracking, and I know what to expect.

Or who to expect.

I must be meeting the one who gave me such a cruel instruction.