Though fragmented, though just a handful of words, it was enough to confirm Akira's theory.
This underwater sanctuary was indeed a shelter, built to preserve a "spark"—everything Akira had seen.
The finest tech, critical samples, essential facilities, and most vital—life's continuation, those bare-bones living quarters.
The culprit? A meteor.
In the Pokémon world, meteors wield the mightiest, most devastating force—humanity and Pokémon's ultimate nemesis.
Even Arceus, the supposed creation god with top-tier cred, got wrecked by one.
Rumor has it, that smackdown spooked Arceus into birthing Mega Caterpie—er, Rayquaza—to smash meteors.
Yet even Rayquaza ate dirt under a meteor in the end. Mythical Deoxys rode one from space, thrashing Rayquaza.
In-game, Eternatus—highest stat total with Dynamax—crashed down with a meteor too, cursing Galar with chaos.
If the Pokémon world ever bites it, a meteor's the most fitting grim reaper.
Outside that world, meteor-doomsday tales aren't rare either. Akira's past and present lives both knew the dinosaur extinction yarn—meteor's fingerprints all over it.
Unlike dinos, humans plan ahead. Unless it's instant annihilation, they'll fight for survival.
Hence, the shelter.
From the intel so far, this one didn't fully succeed.
Otherwise, the hub wouldn't be this intact, nor would the display case linger—cornerstones for a comeback.
The Ainu wouldn't have just met the Sacred Beasts—no human traces.
Compared to Beasts, human lifespans are too short, crumbling under time's weight.
Death by age, starvation, or thirst—the empty warehouses screamed "last stand."
Some Pokémon were likely here too—core to the Pokémon world.
But they weren't Beasts, lacking Ho-Oh's buffs. No supplies, they'd die too.
Swap Beasts for Unown—same deal.
Maybe this shelter sat in an Unown-made "world," guarded physically and mystically, giving Akira a shot at rebooting the gear.
Without that, it'd be like dusty warehouse PCs or phones—nostalgia hits, you try to boot them for old "study materials," but they're long dead.
"Did you protect this place, Unown? You're the gentlest after all." Akira murmured.
His words barely settled when that voice returned—the cryptic one from the cave's threshold.
"T·h·a·n·k· y·o·u…"
Indescribable, yet soul-deep—warm, nostalgic, tinged with unmaskable sorrow.
Sorrow???
A bad vibe hit Akira like a brick.
Then he heard it.
"Goodbye."
The smoothest line yet—and the most gut-wrenching.
"Wait—" Sensing it, Akira tried to stop it, but where?
What followed left no room to think.
Console lights flickered wild.
Mechanical groans turned shrill—like Gin's beat-up vintage car.
Just the opening act of collapse.
The worn-smooth floor cracked visibly. The ceiling warped worse—cracks plus buckling.
Twisting metal screeches drowned out the car vibes.
This ancient shelter, like its charges, had hit its end.
A dying "elder," gasping its last to pass on the message, the spark.
"Garde-chan, grab the case. Darkrai leads, Little Vine rears, Little Blue left, Pignite right."
"Garde / Wu / Ja / Dilu / Maru~"
A ragged but synced chorus formed a quick "arrowhead" lineup.
Before bolting the hub, Akira yelled:
"Porygon, quit messing around—back now, we're out!"
Porygon lacked its siblings' snap-to-it vibe. A head poked from the glitched screen: "!@#9 (Hold on, data's almost done downloading)"
"No time—place is collapsing!"
Akira smacked the console, fuming. Torrenting now, really?
"!@#9 (It won't collapse!)" Porygon stayed chill, ducking back in.
Right then, the creaking ceiling hit its limit. Chunks crashed down.
One loomed over the console screen.
"You little—" Akira cursed, cursed energy coating his hands as he reached for it.
Weirdness struck. His touch disintegrated the chunk into sand-sized bits, spreading like Darkrai's Dark Pulse.
In the haze, Akira spotted bigger orbs—bean-sized, Unown eyes.
"Could it—"
As he blurted it, those eyes broke down too, dissolving into the mist, gone.
Like that chunk, every collision triggered the same fade-out.
"Don't give up so fast—hang on a bit!"
Akira tried to halt it—catching chunks, using Psychic—but contact with Unown parts meant instant breakdown.
A scripted fate, rejecting his meddling. He stopped, standing with his Pokémon, silently watching the shelter—and the Unown—fade.
Yes, the Unown themselves.
Akira got it wrong, underestimated the most cryptic Pokémon.
They didn't just craft a world for the shelter—the shelter was their world.
How? Mimicking real structures? Humans cracking Unown control? No clue.
All he could do was wait, giving a final salute to these ageless sentinels.
He wished they'd leave a legacy, a spark, like the shelter's people—even a flicker he'd shield with his power.
The ancient ruin wilted like fireworks.
Civilization's glow dimmed to a whisper.
The Unown's life-fueled "world" sank back to dark.
Like a capricious artist, sketching a masterpiece, then shredding it—leaving just the first stroke, the last light.
—A single slate.
PS: Writer's headcanon: The meteor that smashed Arceus was Eternatus's ride. A plain rock flooring the llama god? Nah. Explains Eternatus's busted Dynamax stats too.