The winter sun had yet to rise when Rosa stirred awake. Something icy stung her cheeks and numbed her nose and ears, but her limbs felt as heavy as concrete, and she was unwilling to open her eyes. Everything hurt. Was it possible to die from pain? Because if so, she was teetering on the edge. Her body begged her to curl into a ball and sleep for another millennium, to wait out the mind-numbing ache. But the biting chill seeping into her arms was impossible to ignore.

With a reluctant sigh, she fluttered her eyelids open, letting the faint light filter in. The first thing she noticed was the darkness—a timid moon hung above, casting soft light across the outline of trees and foliage. Snow reflected the moon's glow, making the landscape visible in a cold, muted hue.

As Rosa pushed herself into a sitting position, she realized she was covered in snow. Her legs and waist were nearly buried in the stuff, and panic surged when she moved and couldn't feel them.

Where was she?

Something warm slipped from her shoulders, and she instinctively snatched at the thin fabric, pulling it tightly around herself. The texture was rough but comforting against her frozen skin. Blinking through the haze clouding her mind, she realized she was in a forest. Vegetation surrounded her, the trees thick enough to provide some shelter from the biting wind. The breeze howled through the treetops, its chill leaving small bumps across her arms.

Where had Braviary dropped her?

Braviary. Colress.

Rosa's fingers traced the coat's fabric, the memory suddenly flooding back. Colress. He'd done it.

He'd always played the part of the sketchy scientist—not a knight in shining armor—and yet, he'd come for her.

She hunched forward, wrapping her arms around her knees. They moved so easily now. No restraints. No cutting metal biting into her skin. The movement made her ankles throb as though they were on fire, but even that pain felt miraculous.

How had he done it? And more importantly, why?

Her Pokémon!

Colress had promised they were safe. Heart leaping, Rosa flung off the strap around her midsection and tore into her travel bag. Most of her belongings seemed intact—her medicines, TMs, berries, and key items—but when her fingers brushed the familiar leather of her brown belt, her chest tightened with overwhelming relief.

Four Pokéballs. Four precious, contracted Pokéballs resting in a row.

She yanked the belt from the bag, her fingers trembling as she fumbled to pull the Pokéballs free from their pockets. Fear gnawed at her as she hesitated. What if Team Plasma had harmed them? What if they never wanted to see her again?

Even so, she had to know. She had to see them.

One by one, she tossed the Pokéballs into the air. They expanded with a soft click before breaking open, piercing the frigid night with streams of scarlet-colored light. Rosa's breath hitched as the familiar forms of her Pokémon began to materialize before her.

Their brilliant eyes cut through the darkness—glowing crimson, charcoal, aqua, and gold.

Except, their eyes weren't warm and inviting like she remembered.

Each pair was tight, their irises burning with barely controlled fury. Lips twisted into feral snarls, pulled back over clenched teeth like wild animals. A low, savage growl rumbled from every chest, daring her to come closer. Waiting. Rosa froze, her breath caught in her throat. She had never heard such horrible, primal sounds from her team before.

The blood drained from her already pale face, leaving her grim and ghostly. This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. Because the faces staring back at her weren't the ones she remembered.

Her gaze locked onto a set of gold-rimmed eyes boring holes into her forehead.

Zaveid.

He was larger now, towering over her delicate frame. An enormous horn jutted from his head, and his once sleek whiskers had been replaced with cotton-white fur. The shell armor lining his legs glinted faintly, even in the dim light.

But it wasn't his new, evolved form that stunned her.

It was the unrelenting, savage growl rising from his throat, the hostility radiating from every tense muscle.

She didn't even notice how badly her hands were trembling.

"Zaveid?" Rosa whispered, shifting onto her knees to meet his gaze.

The Samurott snarled, his massive teeth snapping at her outstretched fingers. Rosa flinched, pulling back just enough to avoid his jaws. A tremor coursed through her as the hostility in his eyes burned into her soul.

What had they done to him?

"It's me. It's Rosa." Her voice cracked, and hot tears welled at the corners of her eyes. One escaped, tracing a burning line down her cheek, but she didn't bother to wipe it away. Did he "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice as soft as the quivering breath behind it. "I know you're angry, but I need to make sure you're okay. Just let me check, alright? Please . . . stay still for a second."

Her tone was as gentle as she could make it, and to her great relief, Zaveid hesitated. The low snarl in his throat softened to a wary hum, his body still rigid with distrust. But he didn't move when she crept a few inches closer.

Steeling herself, Rosa took a deep breath and moved forward. Each movement sent fresh spikes of pain through her battered muscles, spasms rippling through her arms and legs, but she pressed on with deliberate, steady motions. Zaveid's sharp eyes never left her, tracking her every move as though she might spring at him any moment.

When she was close enough, Rosa slowly extended her hand, palm up, toward his snout. Her heart hammered in her chest as Zaveid flinched away, his body tensing. She froze, her fingers hovering midair, unsure if he would bolt—or attack.

Then, to her surprise, he took a step forward. His horned head dipped cautiously, and he pressed his warm snout into her trembling palm.

Rosa exhaled a shuddering breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. His fur was still as soft as she remembered, radiating the same familiar warmth. He didn't look like her Zaveid anymore, his powerful form and wary gaze a far cry from the stubborn yet playful starter she'd raised. Yet, beneath the changes, he was still hers. Her precious, pigheaded punk.

Without fully thinking, Rosa moved closer, her body acting on instinct. She stretched up onto her knees, ignoring the sharp protests from her aching muscles, and wrapped her arms around his massive neck. He was larger now, and the embrace was more awkward than she was used to, but she locked her fingers tightly, anchoring herself to him.

He snorted and buried his huge face in her hair, eyes closed, chest humming, and fell to his knees so he could press against her.

"I'm sorry," Rosa sobbed again and again. She apologized for everything in those two words. For pursuing Team Plasma in the first place. For allowing her precious starter and other team mates to be captured. For not being the one to rescue them herself. For allowing anyone to put such a venomous expression on his warm, familiar face.

Her other Pokémon rushed to meet her as well, shoving each other aside in their desperation to reach her. Rosa hugged them each in turn, basking in the feel of their downy fur, their breath in her face, of seeing them alive, and safe, and in her arms. Sven's tail wagged hard as he yapped and licked her face from chin to hairline, but not even Anna seemed to mind the slobber, as she simply smeared it away and leaned her forehead against Rosa's. The moment was brief, however, because Gaston almost immediately shoved the Lucario aside to do the same.

His crimson mane tickled her cheek, and a tiny smile pulled at her mouth. The little fox wasn't little anymore. Gaston was nearly her height, with a full head of hair to protect him from the snow, and razor-sharp claws to defend himself with. But if he minded being a Zoroark, he showed no sign of it. He buried his head in her stomach and grumbled contently, moving only when Rosa shifted to comb him for injuries.

They would be okay.

Zaveid nudged her head, and Rosa patted his nose fondly. The adrenaline of finding her Pokémon was draining from her system, leaving her exhausted. "Just a few bruises for you. You're tougher than they thought, aren't 'ya punk?"

Zaveid snorted, the sound sharp and almost dismissive, and Rosa sobered. She ran a hand down his thick fur, her touch steady despite the weakness in her limbs. "They forced you guys into some intense training, didn't they? I can see it in you. You've been pushed way too hard." Her voice softened, a hint of pain creeping in. "That's what all the growling was about, wasn't it? You thought I was one of them.

"That horrible ninja . . ." Her fingers curled into his fur as she spoke, anger simmering beneath the surface. "He probably thought you'd make a perfect addition to his team. What an idiot."

Zaveid touched the tender spot on her head with his nose again, and she flinched away. "Hey, that hurts-"

Rosa paused. There was red liquid dripping off his snout. Instinctively, she reached behind her head to touch the place where the ninja had bashed her, and her fingers came away wet and sticky.

Not good.

Pulling her bag close to her again, Rosa rifled through her key items pocket until she found her map. The Unova region flashed across her screen, stinging her eyes in the darkness, but she fought the nausea and tinkered with the device until it pulled up her exact location.

"It's okay, Anna," she whispered, responding to the jackal's hum of alarm. "I'll be fine. Don't . . . don't worry."

Route six. Braviary had dropped her in the woods outside Driftveil City. With any luck, it wouldn't take long to get there.

Gritting her teeth, Rosa hauled herself from her knees to her feet. Snow fell from her legs as she stood, having already soaked through her rugged leggings, but the cold was hardly a concern compared to everything else.

Just as she had with Colress, she made it one step before her legs crumpled. A sharp gasp escaped her as she collapsed, but Rosa flung her hands out and managed to catch herself before her face could greet the snow.

A chorus of alarmed cries erupted around her. Anna and Gaston rushed forward, their arms reaching out, while a few paces away, Sven let out a panicked whine.

"I'm okay," Rosa gasped, her breath ragged as Anna and Gaston carefully wrapped their arms around her waist. Together, they eased her to her feet. Their touch was as gentle as a feather, yet it sent sharp jolts through her throbbing muscles.

She swayed unsteadily, her legs trembling beneath her. The weakness clawing at her frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

Together, Gaston and Anna swept Rosa off her aching feet and placed her on the Arcanine's back. He was so warm. The heat radiating from his body enveloped her, stilling her trembling shoulders and chattering teeth. Burying her fingers in the pup's fur, she locked her jaw and did her best to keep upright.

Anna wrapped her arm firmly around Rosa's waist to keep her from falling off. Her fox hurried ahead to take the lead, and then they were marching towards Driftveil.

The walk back to civilization was long. Each step felt like a marathon, stealing the breath from Rosa's lungs even though she wasn't the one walking. It was a good thing Gaston knew where he was going, because her vision was too blurred to read the travel signs they passed by. She could tell it was still snowing though. White crystals continued swirling into her tangled hair, dotting her cheeks and nose.

Her pup was obviously uncomfortable in the chilly weather. His fluffy ears were pinned firmly against his head, and occasionally, he'd pause and sneeze loud enough to stir the wild Pokémon. He never openly complained, though, like he had back in the desert.

"I'm sorry about the snow," Rosa whispered anyway. The Arcanine let out another worried whimper in response.

From what she could remember about Driftveil, there wasn't a hospital there. An enormous world tournament for trainers, gym leaders, and champions? Sure. But no hospital, just a small clinic for non-emergencies. Gaston didn't take them there, however, or even into town. Instead, the fox flicked his tail and climbed the familiar hillside towards a colonial home, his steps quick and sure as they left the treeline.

Rosa was nearly unconscious by the time they came to a stop. It was like watching the world through a foggy window; Gaston urgently approached and rapped on the solid oak door, and snowflakes fell in silence for a few seconds before the fox banged again, his tapping getting louder and firmer until he was all but breaking the door down. She felt Anna's hand tighten around her waist, anxiety in every finger.

Shuffling from the other side of the door. More banging, followed by a grouchy-eyed red head flinging the door open with unnecessary vigor. A quiet, feminine gasp, and hurried footsteps across the snow.

"Rosa?" Ella breathed, running her hands over Rosa's numb cheeks anxiously. "What's happened to you? Rood! Rood, wake up now! Rood!"

Putting one arm around Rosa's shoulders and the other under her legs, Ella swept Rosa off Sven's back and rushed her into the house, her wind-chime voice echoing off the stones.

***

When Rosa woke again, it was to the sound of angry voices. They were distant and hard to make out, but agitated enough to pull through her slumber and drag her back.

"I just want to see her. No harm'll be done in me checking in on her."

"I'm worried about her as well, but she needs-"

"Her wellbeing is partly my responsibility. So, if I gotta sit with her for the rest of the night to make sure she's okay, I'll do it."

"You've seen her enough times already. She's sleeping, and she'll continue to sleep until she's better. You'll just have to be patient."

Rosa was hyperaware of the smoke-scented air, dusted with ash and a hint of lavender, and the cushy, full mattress beneath her. It had been ages since she'd been in a bed – having a cushion was heavenly. Aside from the argument outside the door, the room was serenely quiet. She could hear the faint crackle of burning logs in a fireplace, and the stir of wind howling against the window. She felt groggy, and very sore, but for the first time in a while, she knew exactly where she was. There was no disorientation, no blur, and incredibly, no headache.

"I've been plenty patient, but that's my kid in there. You really think you can stop me from checking on her? 'Cause you've got another thing coming if you do. Step aside. Or I'll make you."

The agitated voice outside her bedroom door was achingly familiar. Sitting up a little straighter, Rosa asked, "Sal?"

Suddenly there was a crack. She startled as the solid oak bedroom door flew open and slammed against the wall. Ella was behind it, her slender arms folded as she grumbled disapprovingly, and next to her, the silent form of Elliot. He was as huge as ever – like a giant trapped in a doll house – and although his chiseled jaw was locked, his soft gaze was fraught with concern.

It was Sal's bulky figure, however, who charged through the door.

"You're awake!"

She blinked as the enormous biker dropped by her bedside and snatched up her hand. The bed creaked under his weight as he leaned against the frame, but Rosa couldn't pull her eyes away from his weathered face. Of all the people she'd expected to see, he wasn't one of them.

"It is you!" Rosa crowed, pleased to see him. She shifted to sit up all the way, but Elliot immediately darted forward to gently press her shoulders back against the bed. His smile was gentle though, and breathlessly, she asked, "What are you both doing here?"

"Ella called me," Sal replied gruffly, tightening his grip on her fingers while jerking his chin in the red-head's direction. "She said you were in some sort of trouble, so I grabbed Elliot and we rushed over. What I wanna know is why you didn't call me, kid. I told you to let me know if you needed anything, and here you are – beat up and barely recognizable. I outta throttle you."

"It wasn't exactly an option-"

Ella's heart-shaped face appeared by the bed, her expression repentant. "Forgive me, Rosa. He was listed in your Xtransceiver as your uncle, and after your mother didn't pick up, I thought he'd be the next best person. I figured you'd want someone familiar around when you woke up." She paused, her brow furrowing. "Although I can't say I really see the resemblance," she added sullenly.

Rosa caught the strained edge in her tone, and was suddenly aware of the tension between the two parties. Had something happened while she'd slept? "Well, we're not actually related-"

"She's one of my gang," Sal huffed defensively, hunching his shoulders forward like Ella's words had jabbed him. "That's a bond stronger than any blood tie. Just ask Elliot. And anyway, I'd have come anyway, 'cause I gotta kill whoever did this."

Ella's sapphire eyes flashed. "Don't you be making death threats here! Rosa's been through enough violence lately, thank you very much, and the last thing she needs is your bad influence."

"I'm just telling it like it is. They're not getting away with it, that's for sure—"

"Sal—" Elliot began to protest.

"I think that's quite enough," Rood interjected, striding into the room. His black robe flowed behind him as he pushed aside Sal and settled on the edge of her bed. She eyed him carefully, still wary of the older man.

He just smiled cheekily and patted her forehead. "Our dear Rosa here has been put through the wringer, and she needs rest. So, unless you can keep your mouths shut, I'd suggest you all wait outside. I'm so happy to see you awake, darling. How are you feeling?"

"Better." It was true. She felt strong enough that maybe she could stand. Her head and sore muscles didn't hurt nearly as much as before, and it had been ages since she'd been able to walk on her own. Carefully, she bent her elbows and wrists, testing the joints before attempting to sit up again.

A wave of protest erupted. Every person in the room moved forward to stop her, but Rood calmed them with a wave of his hand and a simple, "Cool it." Only Sal kept advancing, glowering venomously at the older man before he took Rosa's hand again.

Rood acknowledged the expression with a wide grin, though his words were again directed at Rosa. "Ella healed up your injuries best she could when you got here, but there's no need to push it. Let's give that head a few days, okay?"

"Seriously, I'm fine-"

"I don't mean to pry," Elliot interrupted, his voice hesitant, "but the gang is worried, and we wanted to know . . . what happened to you?"

She flinched. Of course, the one question she didn't want to answer would be the one they wanted most. It was inevitable—she'd appeared on their doorstep half-dead and nearly comatose, after all. The last thing she wanted was to think about her prison cell. How long had it been since her escape? A few days, at least. Only time could have healed her injuries so thoroughly.

Biting her lip, she glanced down at the bed sheets, picking at the peach-colored fabric. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as the group waited through her silence. When it became clear she wasn't going to answer, Rood shifted in his seat and changed the subject.

"Well, now that you're awake, you must be hungry. I'll have Ella cook you up something special, okay? She makes a wonderful quiche – the best you'll have ever tasted. And I'll clear this crowd so you can get some more rest."

"Wait," she said, grasping at his robe before he could leave. "Do you know what the Regeneration Effect is?"

His wrinkled face frowned. "The what?"

"The Regeneration Effect. One of the members of Team Plasma mentioned it, but I just... it's been bothering me."

Ella, Sal, and Elliot exchanged confused glances, but Rood's pale lips pressed into a thin line.

"Ella," he said carefully, "why don't you take these gentlemen to the kitchen? They can help you with brunch. Rosa's hungry, and the food will be done faster with extra hands."

Ella hissed and jerked her head back as if she'd been slapped, but Rood shot her a taut look. With a huff and another anxious glance at Rosa, she twisted on her heels and stomped out of the room. Sal opened his mouth to object, but Elliot shook his head, forcing him to shuffle out behind her.

Sighing, Rood dropped into a rocking chair in the corner, massaging his forehead with his fingers. Rosa eyed him expectantly, her impatience growing more intolerable with each passing second. Just when she was ready to jump up and shake him, he finally spoke.

"Before I explain, you must know that this is all just speculation. It's likely Ghetsis has become obsessed with rumors that hold no true value. The man is insane, do you understand? You cannot take any of this too seriously."

It was an unexpected turn of conversation, but one she could agree with. Her eyebrows furrowed

Rood seemed to accept her answer. "Very well. Do you know how this world came to be?"

"Are you referring to its supposed creator? Isn't that Arceus?"

"Correct. The Original One is said to have created not only this planet but our entire universe. Apparently, Arceus intended for our world to be pure and sinless, one where his creations could live peacefully. But as you know, mankind has never been either of those things. Our annoying nature stems from a hitch in design—a flaw, of sorts—that the legendary inadvertently instilled in Pokémon and people during creation. Can you guess what that is?"

Rosa frowned, struggling to follow. "Free will?"

"Yup. Good old-fashioned agency. Our ability to choose for ourselves has been a real thorn in Arceus's side, especially with all the devastation our wars have caused. His creations were supposed to be perfect. 'Supposed' being the operative word," he added dryly. "Well, Arceus was mighty upset having to constantly step in to stop mankind from destroying everything. It was too much work, keeping an eye on us all.

"So, instead, he fashioned a 'protector'—a legendary Pokémon as old as time itself, tasked with defending our world from humanity's threats. This guardian was meant to stop wars, prevent disasters, and even calm other legendary Pokémon before they could spread their own chaos. The Regeneration Effect happens at the end of the guardian's life, which, according to legend, never truly ends. Upon its death, the guardian regenerates into a new body and a new life, allowing for eternal service to Arceus's cause."

Rosa frowned, repelled by the idea of someone serving a lazy god their entire existence. What kind of Pokémon could endure that cycle over and over again? "That's kind of the craps. But what does it have to do with me? Or Hugh, or Touko?"

The older man shook his head. "I don't know. Ghetsis was working on finding the legendary back when I was still with him. Perhaps he thinks you or your friends can help him."

"Perhaps he wants to start his own disaster," Rosa replied thoughtfully. "He doesn't want the guardian to stop him."

"I can't say for certain. Ghetsis was always very secretive about his plans. We just followed orders because he promised us a peaceful, happy world, free from pain and despair. After Touko destroyed us, I chose a different path. I don't know anything more than that."

Rosa ran a stressed hand through her hair and slumped back against her supportive pillows with an audible thump. Everything felt like a tangled mess. "I guess finding out for myself is my only option," she muttered. What a pain.

Rood's caterpillar-like eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "You're still going after them?"

"It's not like I really have a choice. Ghetsis and his team of cronies are terrorizing the region. I'll get stronger, and then I'll kick them out of Unova. Touko's not around to do it, so until I find her, I guess it's gotta be me."

"You're a strange girl, you know that?"

There was a knock at the door, and both Rosa and Rood snapped to attention as the person on the other side flung it open without waiting for an invitation. Rosa's heart squeezed as she met the gaze of Curtis, his snow-covered green hair and forest-colored eyes contrasting sharply with the cold. His cheeks were flushed red from the chill, and his breathing was heavy, as if he'd been running.

He paused in the doorway, just staring at her, a storm of emotions raging across his face. Taking in her bandages and haggard face, as his eyes shifted from fear to relief to a burning anger.

"What the hell did they do?"