Night didn't fall in Divide City.
It closed.
The light faded unevenly, as if the sky itself hesitated before committing. On the eastern half, bioluminescent fungi brightened prematurely, pink and violet glow pulsing like shallow breaths. On the western side, shadows thickened early, black trees swallowing what little twilight reached them.
At the center of it all, the Axis Atrium dimmed its lights.
The first thing Cyrus felt was pain.
Not dream-pain. Not the abstract pressure Darkrai favored.
Real, immediate, nerve-bright pain that lanced through his skull and down his spine like lightning caught in bone.
He dropped to one knee.
Concrete scraped his palm. The smell of ozone flooded the air as the divide flared overhead—light and darkness colliding in violent pulses that cracked like thunder without sound.
Ditto clung to his shoulders in the shape of a blue windbreaker, fabric fluttering even though the air was still.
Too still.
Cyrus felt it before he saw anything.
The pressure.
Gengar rose from the edge of the rooftop without sound, shadow stretching longer than it should have, eyes glowing faintly. Its grin was tight tonight. Focused.
"Gen…"
Gengar's voice hit him half a second too late. The world tilted hard left, then snapped back as something unseen slammed into his chest.
He flew.
Not far, but far enough. His body struck the atrium wall with a sickening crack, breath exploding out of him as the impact rattled through ribs and shoulder. He slid down, vision fracturing into light and shadow.
This wasn't a mental game anymore.
This was war.
Mega Darkrai emerged fully without ceremony..
No flash. No roar.
Just presence.
It didn't descend from the sky. The sky gave way to it, darkness folding inward, coalescing into a massive, crescent-crowned form that blotted out stars and swallowed sound. Its red collar flared like a wound torn open, shadows spilling downward in tidal waves.
Windows cracked.
Dreamwave alarms across the city screamed to life, then shorted out.
At the same moment…
Light answered.
Cresselia rose from beyond the divide, her crescent body radiant, lunar wings unfurling with a sound like shattering glass wrapped in wind. Pale beams lanced outward, cutting through shadow, illuminating the city in stark silver brilliance.
Where her light touched the ground, structures cracked—not destroyed, but overloaded. Windows shattered. Streetlights burst. Bioluminescent growth ignited in violent blooms, then withered under the strain.
They weren't coordinating.
They were reacting.
And Cyrus was directly between them.
Cyrus tried to shout, but blood filled his mouth. His head rang, a high-pitched whine drowning everything else.
Darkrai's shadow surged again, not aimed at Cresselia this time, but downward.
At Cyrus.
Gengar intercepted instinctively, throwing itself in front of Cyrus as the wave hit. The impact slammed Gengar into the ground hard enough to crater concrete, shadow dispersing violently before snapping back into form.
"GENGAR—!"
Ditto peeled from Cyrus's shoulders, reforming into a thick, semi-translucent barrier just as a lance of lunar light scorched the space where his head had been.
The heat was unbearable.
Cyrus rolled, coughing, lungs screaming as the light burned a smoking line across the atrium floor. Meltan clanged frantically, anchoring itself to Cyrus's belt, its body glowing dangerously bright as it absorbed excess energy it was never meant to handle.
"Stop—!" Cyrus screamed, raw and hoarse.
Neither Legendary listened.
Darkrai expanded again, nightmare energy pouring outward, the ground beneath it blackening and fracturing as if reality itself were giving up. Shadows reached skyward like grasping hands, clawing at Cresselia's light.
Cresselia answered with force.
Her wings flared wide, releasing a shockwave of lunar energy that tore through the divide and through Darkrai—not injuring it, but destabilizing the carefully narrowed focus it had maintained.
The backlash was immediate.
The pressure snapped inward.
Cyrus screamed as the world folded around him.
Dreamspace and reality overlapped violently, images slamming into his mind unfiltered: endless nights without rest, cities frozen in fear, division calcifying into permanence. His heart raced uncontrollably. His vision tunneled.
This was too much.
His body convulsed, muscles locking as neurological overload tore through him. He tasted copper and ozone and something burning that shouldn't burn inside a human skull.
Gengar slammed its shadow into his back.
"GEN!"
Cold flooded Cyrus's spine — not numbing, anchoring. The dream fractured, snapped back like glass pulled from heat.
Darkrai recoiled a fraction.
Just enough.
Then the moonlight changed.
A soft silver glow cut through the darkness, spreading outward in a wide, stabilizing arc.
Cresselia rose from the eastern horizon, wings unfurling slowly, painfully, as if each motion cost effort. Lunar rings shimmered faintly around her body, uneven but growing steadier with each beat.
She was awake.
Not whole.
But awake.
The city felt it.
Breaths steadied. Panic ebbed. The pressure eased — not gone, but balanced.
Darkrai hissed — a sound like wind dragged through broken stone.
Cresselia drifted forward, positioning herself between him and the city.
Between him and Cyrus.
The air ignited.
Shadow surged forward, colliding with lunar light in a violent shockwave that rippled across the skyline. Buildings groaned. Streetlights shattered. The Divide Line flared bright white, then blood-red.
Cyrus was thrown back hard, slamming into the balcony wall.
Pain exploded through his ribs.
Ditto yelped soundlessly, gripping tighter, reshaping to brace the impact.
Gengar vanished — then reappeared instantly at Cyrus's side, shadow coiling protectively around him.
"Gen-gar."
Cyrus coughed, blood metallic on his tongue.
For a fraction of a second, Cyrus hung on the edge of unconsciousness—and something inside him gave.
Not mentally.
Physically.
A sharp, tearing sensation ripped through his chest as his heart faltered, rhythm stuttering dangerously. His breath hitched, shallow and wrong.
He was dying.
Not dramatically.
Clinically.
The world slowed.
Darkrai felt it first.
Its shadows hesitated, rippling with sudden uncertainty as the human at the center of its focus began to fail. The anchor it had been testing wasn't bending anymore.
It was breaking.
Cresselia felt it a heartbeat later.
Her light flared instinctively, panicked now, pouring outward in an attempt to heal, to stabilize, but the sudden surge only worsened the overload. Cyrus's nervous system screamed under the conflicting energies.
She cried out , not in words, but in resonance. Lunar rings flickered, cracked.
Cyrus wanted to push himself upright, but couldn't.
"Don't retreat," he said, though his vision swam. "You hold him here."
Darkrai noticed his attempted movement.
Darkrai's pressure snapped toward Cyrus like a blade.
The dream hit him full-force.
He was standing alone in the King Mansion archive.
Shelves burned.
Artifacts shattered.
His parents lay still on the floor, eyes open, unseeing.
"You couldn't stop it," the dream whispered without sound.
Cyrus staggered.
Gengar screamed, a sharp, furious "GEN!"] shadow exploding outward, shredding the illusion.
Cyrus gasped, reality crashing back.
Darkrai roared.
Not vocally…emotionally.
The shadow mass surged downward, abandoning the city entirely.
Target locked.
Cresselia surged after him, light flaring desperately, trying to intercept.
They collided midair above the Atrium.
The impact flattened Cyrus.
He hit the rooftop hard enough to crack stone.
Pain stole his breath.
Something snapped in his shoulder.
Ditto tried to cushion, failed.
Gengar slammed itself bodily between Cyrus and the fallout, shadow taking the brunt of it, form flickering violently.
"GEN—!"
Cyrus screamed, raw, involuntary.
Darkrai descended.
Cresselia followed, panic bleeding into her glow.
They were too close now.
Too much.
The air screamed.
Cyrus felt his consciousness fracture — not sleep, not dream, something worse. A place where thought unraveled.
Darkrai reached him.
Shadow wrapped around Cyrus's chest, crushing, invasive, dragging his mind apart piece by piece.
Cresselia struck, lunar light blasting Darkrai's side, but it wasn't enough.
She was too weak.
Cyrus felt his heartbeat stutter.
Felt distance open between himself and the world.
Gengar latched onto him, shadow fused to flesh, eyes wild.
"Gen… gen—GAR!"
And then…
"No…stop…" Cyrus whispered, barely audible even to himself.
Too late.
The air tore open.
Gold light split the sky like laughter sharpened into law.
A golden ring ripped into existence beside Cyrus with a sound like reality being punched.
Hoopa emerged, not floating, not lounging.
Standing
Its rings flared violently, glyphs blazing white-hot as the temperature dropped sharply around it. The playful lilt was gone from its expression, replaced by something ancient and sharp enough to cut.
That something looked at Cyrus.
Then at Darkrai.
Then at Cresselia.
And Hoopa's voice cracked the night.
"Nope! Nope nope nope!"
The shadow froze.
"You… do… NOT… get… to… break… my… human…"
The pressure snapped.
Darkrai reeled as Hoopa slammed a ring directly into his form, space folding violently around the impact. Shadow screamed as it was thrown backward across the sky.
Cresselia cried out as the backlash nearly knocked her unconscious.
Hoopa spun, catching her mid-fall with another ring.
"Uh-uh!" Hoopa scolded, sing-song voice trembling with something sharp beneath it. "You too! You're not allowed to die yet."
Seeing Cyrus in the state he was in, Hoopa hovered over him instantly, panic breaking through the playful cadence.
"Oh no oh no oh no—"
Rings flashed, stabilizing space around Cyrus's body, locking his soul in place.
Darkrai recovered fast.
Too fast.
He surged again, furious now, shadows burning red-hot.
Hoopa turned slowly.
The grin vanished.
The voice stayed childish.
But the air went silent.
"No."
One word.
Absolute.
Hoopa raised both arms.
Rings expanded, overlapping, reality folding inward like paper caught in a fist.
Darkrai slammed into the construct and stopped.
Pinned.
Cresselia hovered weakly nearby, light flickering.
Hoopa glanced back at her, eyes blazing.
"You let him get that close," Hoopa said softly. "That was BAD."
Cresselia trembled, shame, fear, apology radiating through her glow.
Hoopa snapped back to Darkrai.
"You almost broke him," Hoopa sang, voice shaking now. "That was NOT part of the game."
Darkrai thrashed.
Hoopa tightened the rings.
"Balance time is OVER."
The rings flared.
Cresselia surged, pouring everything she had left into a final lunar wave, not attacking, correcting. Darkrai screamed as the shadows peeled away, forced back into alignment.
The sky cracked with silver and black light.
Then…
Silence.
Darkrai collapsed into the clouds, form dissolving, power retreating, forced into dormant balance.
Cresselia descended slowly, exhausted but alive.
Hoopa shrank rapidly, rings dimming, floating down to Cyrus's side.
Cyrus breathed.
Barely.
Hoopa knelt, tiny hands pressing against Cyrus's chest.
"…You scared me," Hoopa whispered, sing-song broken.
Gengar sagged beside him, shadow trembling.
"Gen…"
The city lights steadied.
The Divide Line softened.
Balance returned.
For now.
Hoopa sniffed, wiped at nothing, then smiled weakly.
"Okay," Hoopa chirped. "No more almost-breaking-my-human."
Night Four ended not with victory….but with survival.
And Divide City held.