For over two days, waves of Drogger came and went from the junkyard. Every hour, a new batch entered feral, and left with purpose, sharpened by discipline.
Locals began to whisper that the forests had grown... lively.
Alana and Augustus stood before the junkyard, facing the silent and still bone army.
"So many," Augustus murmured.
"When's he getting out of there? It's been two days," Alana grumbled.
A presence stepped out from the scrap, kicking rusted metal underfoot.
It was Zero. A Drogger perched calmly on his shoulder.
"Finally." Alana said with relief.
Five more Drogger followed behind him. Each stood about twenty inches tall.
Augustus asked, "What do we do now?"
"Give each one a coil," Zero replied.
Augustus obeyed. The coils slithered forward, wrapping smoothly around the Drogger like a living bracelets.
"Drogna," Zero said simply.
The Drogger on his shoulder clicked her tongue.
The five behind her responded by slapping their tails against the ground. In seconds, Droggers emerged from every junk mound, forming into tight, organized packs.
Drogna jumped down, sniffed each group's leader, then stomped once.
The signal was clear.
Each pack. fifty strong. Turned and marched off into the woods.
Drogna leapt back onto Zero's shoulder.
Alana stared. "You actually managed to teach them?"
"Yup."
"And everything we just saw... means the real plan's ready?"
Zero nodded. "Everything's set up."
Augustus mounted Arceus.
Zero, without a word, gestured for the skeletons to move.
No command. No wave of authority.
Just obedience.
In silent rows of three, they began their march into the junkyard, narrow, deliberate.
Alana hovered beside Augustus, preparing to leave.
But Zero stood still, watching every single one of them disappear inside.
Not a word was spoken.
Two minutes passed.
Then Zero followed them in.
"What's he doing?" Augustus asked.
Alana sighed and drifted after him, leaving Augustus waiting outside.
Inside the junkyard, the skeletons stood perfectly still.
Not moving. Not breathing. Just there.
Zero studied them.
"Zero, we've got to get a move on," Alana said.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he narrowed his eyes.
"Why does it feel like they're shaking… restless, even?"
Alana floated closer.
"Well… spirits of the void hate being confined," she said.
"Even in magic-heavy zones like this, they get antsy fast.
Normally they'd break free, cause chaos, just move.
But for some reason… they're staying put."
Zero's eyes flickered.
He turned away and murmured:
"You're free."
Suddenly, the bones began to tremble violently.
Then collapse, falling into scattered heaps.
A wave of dark souls erupted from the remains, swirling high into the sky.
They spiralled through the air and around the junkyard,
until a thick, chaotic mist consumed it entirely
and began to creep outward, curling along the ground.
They were finally free.
No longer bound to their vessels.
"Zero?" Alana whispered, eyes wide.
He was already walking out.
"You are all free… until called upon."
The spirits danced in the fog they created
a mystifying, supernova-like mist, flickering like stars in deep space.
With every step Zero took, a memory followed.
Rain. Mud. A discarded boy with no name.
Another step.
A promise forged in emptiness.
Another step.
Power. Control.
Domination.
Then
Outside the junkyard, Zero slammed a fist into his palm.
He exhaled sharply.
"Now… let's begin."
A wide grin crept across his face as he climbed onto Arceus's back.
The group turned and departed.
Zero looked back once
at the swirling chaos behind him, glowing in the darkness.
No more limitations.
Then he looked forward,
determined, certain of what came next.