The island moved now.
Not fast. Not dramatic. Just that barely-there drifting sensation under Cyrus's boots, like the whole landmass had decided to take a long, slow walk through the ocean.
After two months, he finally felt steady on it.
He sat on a weather-worn crate outside the main survey cabin, notebook open on his knee. The breeze carried salt and the low calls of wild Wingull overhead. Out past the shoreline, Water-types glided alongside the moving island like curious neighbors who didn't mind the slow pace.
Day 67, he wrote.Island movement confirmed steady at ~1.5 mph. Pokémon following freely. The island feels… calm. I wish I felt the same.
A small plink-plink-plink tapped rhythmically beside him.
Cyrus glanced down.
Meltan was headbutting his toolbox again.
"Meltan, bud, we've talked about boundaries."
Dink…It headbutted the box again, clearly enjoying the sound it was making.
Cyrus sighed. "Alright. Fair."
Something cold and shadowy drifted behind him.Gengar phased through the crate, wearing a grin way too big for this hour.
"Could you not phase through objects I am physically sitting on?" Cyrus groaned.
Gengar cackled and sank halfway into the ground like a smug purple puddle.
Then a weight hit his leg—Blue Tyrunt barreling into him like a toddler dinosaur who didn't know its own strength. Cyrus grunted but rubbed the little fossil Pokémon's head anyway. Tyrunt chirped proudly and stomped around in a circle.
Ditto oozed onto Tyrunt's back, turning itself into a blue pom-pom like some kind of victory decoration.
Charcadet watched from a few feet away, arms crossed, flames flickering with jealous intensity.
"Oh don't start," Cyrus said. "You can't sit on my leg too—you just run hot and I enjoy having skin."
Charcadet huffed, clearly offended, and sat beside him anyway, kicking its feet.
Footsteps approached.
Kellan dropped down beside him, handing him a bottle of water instead of a protein bar this time. "Hydrate or die-drate. Your choice."
Cyrus snorted. "You're bossy today."
"I'm practicing for when the media tries to interview you and you start sweating through your shirt."
Cyrus groaned dramatically. "Please don't remind me."
They watched the ocean together for a while, letting the slow sway of the island fill the silence.
"You ready to head home?" Kellan finally asked.
"…I don't know." Cyrus closed his notebook. "Feels like leaving a whole chapter unfinished."
"Hey, you're coming back," Kellan said. "And next time, the island will be closer to reconnecting. You won't be arriving blind."
"Yeah," Cyrus murmured. "Yeah, I guess."
Gengar materialized behind him and patted his head like a proud gremlin uncle.
Charcadet sat on the crate beside him, flames soft for once.
Tyrunt curled itself against his foot.
Meltan was… still headbutting the toolbox.
Ditto stretched across his shoulder in the shape of a tiny, comforting scarf.
They all knew.
Pokémon always knew before he did.
A gentle rumble passed under them—nothing scary anymore. Just the island shifting its weight.
Kellan stood and stretched. "I should go pretend to supervise something. You… do your emotional farewell thing."
"I'm not doing an emotional farewell thing."
"You've literally got your whole team in cuddle mode. This is the definition of emotional farewell."
Cyrus scowled, which only made Kellan grin more before he wandered off.
The breeze picked up. The waves reflected glints of orange as the sun dipped lower.
Cyrus looked at his team.
"Alright, guys," he said softly. "Tonight we rest. Tomorrow… we head home."
Gengar gave a low, approving rumble.
Charcadet's flames flickered bright.
Tyrunt rawred triumphantly.
Meltan bonked the toolbox one more time for good measure.
Ditto melted into Cyrus's lap, humming contentedly.
And as the ancient island drifted toward a destiny centuries in the making…
Cyrus gathered the memories he wasn't ready to leave behind.
Tomorrow, they'd set off on the ship.
But tonight everything stayed gentle—
quiet—
a soft goodbye before the world started moving faster again.