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The brilliant rays of the sun burst through the darkness, illuminating the world for all to see. Cyrus groaned. This again.
With a sigh, Cyrus pushed himself upright, and turned to face Darkrai. “Must you?” he asked. The darkness had been peaceful. Yet every morning, Darkrai would dispel its dreams just as the sun came through his window, leading to a rude awakening from a full blast of light to the face. “There really are better ways to do this,” he continued sternly. Darkrai made no indication it was listening, nor had any intention of listening. Cyrus sighed and rose to his feet. There was no sense in arguing.
He shambled to the kitchen, eyes still heavy with sleep, and was greeted by far, far too much noise for this hour. “Good morning, boss!” his admins called in unison. Cyrus grunted. He was really not in the mood.
“We’ve made you breakfast,” Jupiter said.
“No thank you,” he replied, going straight to his coffee. That, at least, was also prepared. Taking a tall mug, Cyrus poured himself as large a serving as it would handle.
“Come on, you need to eat something,” Saturn said, not turning from the stove. From the looks of things, he had been cooking. No clue what Mars and Jupiter had been doing.
“Hey, I know that look,” Mars pouted. “We did help. Tell him, Saturn!”
“They tried, anyway,” he said sardonically.
“Hey!”
“I didn’t want to get in the way, so I just prepared some coffee,” Jupiter admitted. Note to self: Jupiter is currently the favorite.
“I’m fine,” Cyrus insisted, taking a few spoonfuls of sugar and a dash of milk.
“No, you’re not,” Saturn continued. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t eat something.”
“I said I’m fine,” Cyrus said, taking a small bottle from the cabinet. It was an energy drink he kept on hand for particularly difficult mornings. This morning, like most, qualified as difficult. He tore off the cap and dumped its contents into his coffee, Jupiter and Mars looking on in horror.
“He’s adding the energy drink again, isn’t he?” Saturn asked. Mars nodded the affirmative. “Okay, enough of this. Master Cyrus, you’re eating breakfast.”
“I’m sorry, am I expected to take orders from you now?” Cyrus asked, his voice low.
“In this case, yes,” Saturn said, shoving a plate of food before him. “Now eat.”
Cyrus stared at the plate. It was a fairly impressive meal. He wasn’t aware Saturn was capable of cooking. Bacon, eggs, diced potatoes, and...strange. The toast seemed slightly blackened. An odd mistake for someone capable of making what was otherwise such a good meal. “Fine,” Cyrus said, taking the plate. Saturn nodded, and turned back to the stove.
“I helped make the toast!” Mars said, puffing out her chest. He could tell.
Cyrus sat at the table and began to read headlines on the Poryphone. It seemed there had been some kind of disturbance with Teams Aqua and Magma that had recently resolved, and the ongoing mystery of where Team Rocket had fled after the failed attempt to usurp Prince Lear. Cyrus followed the stories with a passing interest, if only to know what competition may be up to.
“How’s the meal? Do you like the toast?” Mars asked excitedly.
“It’s good,” was all he said, taking a large swig of coffee.
“You know, Master Cyrus, you do seem to be a bit...well, happier,” Jupiter said.
Cyrus slammed his mug on the table and locked eyes with Jupiter. “Elaborate,” he commanded.
“It’s just,” she started, seeming unsure of her words, “you’re up earlier, get ready earlier, and talk with us. You even avoided arguing with Saturn, and complemented Mars’s burnt toast.”
“Hey!” Mars snapped.
“You just seem like you’re doing better,” Jupiter concluded. Cyrus had to admit, she wasn’t entirely wrong. He had seemed more...energetic, of late. More focused, at any rate. Small things like the sun in the morning, or his admins making noise in the kitchen, hadn’t been quite as bothersome as before. Still obnoxious, make no mistake, but at least somewhat easier to bear.
“There was nothing wrong to begin with,” Cyrus said with certainty.
“Of course. My mistake,” Jupiter said.
“Jupiter’s right, though,” Mars added. “Our cooking seems to be helping! Guess we were right to take her advice after all.”
Everyone froze. “Uh, I mean,” Mars stammered.
“Who is ‘her?’” Cyrus demanded.
“No, I just mean that-”
Suddenly, a loud knocking came from the door. Strange, no one should know about this place outside of Team Galactic, and none of them would bother knocking. “Who is it?” Jupiter asked, almost too quickly.
“You’re not getting out of this that-”
“U-um, is Cyrus there?” a soft-spoken voice called. “I kinda needed his help with something.”
Cyrus recognized the voice. His admins turned to him, and he gave a short nod to let them in. Standing in the doorway was a small, stout child with orange-red hair, and a yellow scarf shaped like a Pikachu’s tail. “Um, sorry for stopping by uninvited,” Sophocles said meekly.
“It’s fine,” Cyrus said. “You said you needed my help?”
“Oh, yeah!” Sophocles said. “Check this thing out!” Sophocles produced a small robotic toy, that seemed designed to walk independently. “It doesn’t seem to work anymore, and I was hoping you could help me fix it, since you know so much about machines.”
All eyes fixed on Cyrus once again, uncertain of how he would respond to this strange child’s request. “Bring it here,” he said.
“Awesome!” Sophocles said, running in and taking a seat next to him. “Thanks, Big Cy!”
Saturn snorted. “Big Cy?” Cyrus asked.
“Oh, should I not call you that?” Sophocles asked. “I always call Molayne ‘Big Mo,’ so I thought, since you’re Cyrus, and you’re older than me.
Cyrus lived up to his new namesake with the heaviest expression of displeasure he could muster. “Do as you wish,” he said, taking the object in hand, and beginning to disassemble.
Machines had always been Cyrus’ interest, far more than anything else. He enjoyed the simple, mechanical structure; the predictable patterns in which one change affected other parts to create a whole system. The smallest details could produce the greatest changes, and a careful, studious eye could reveal everything with a glance. The rest was just motor control. Planned motions, careful execution, and strength to place it all together. Such attributes were the ideal he sought.
“There,” he said, making one final adjustment. With a quick flip of a switch, the small toy began to move independently across the table.
“Woah, that’s amazing!” Sophocles said.
“I’m surprised you were unable to fix it yourself,” Cyrus said. “I thought you had a knack for machines.”
“Well, I tried, but I got stuck, and you got it like it was nothing!”
“When you face a challenge, it’s best to overcome it through your own power,” Cyrus admonished.
“Oh, sorry,” Sophocles said sheepishly. “It’s just, I hadn’t seen you in a while and wanted to stop by, and when I brought up that you might know she said it might be a good idea to-”
“Wait,” Cyrus said, holding up a hand. ‘She’ again. Cyrus’ eyes snapped onto his admins, who had been watching quietly but now stood completely still. “You three still haven’t answered me.”
Mars gave a nervous laugh, followed by a big sigh of her own. “Guess we have no choice,” she said.
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Of course it’s the mountains, Cyrus thought bitterly. As he climbed, his admins in tow, the figure he sought out finally came into view. She stood tall at the side of the path, overlooking the lands below. Her gothic black dress fluttered in the wind, a black veil covering her golden hair. At his approach, her piercing gray eyes turned to him.
“Uh oh,” Cynthia said. “Looks like we’ve been found out.”
“Call them off,” Cyrus demanded.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cynthia said, crossing her arms.
“I know you’ve commanded Sophocles, and my own administration, to interfere with my life,” Cyrus said, rage barely contained. “You will call them off.”
“Will I now?” she asked, her expression turning serious.
“You will,” Cyrus said. At a snap of his fingers, Darkrai emerged from the ground between the two.
Cynthia smirked, nearly laughing at the show of aggression. “You really want to battle me? You think you can win?” At her words, a strange chill crept through the air. Shadows dripped from the walls of the mountain, and from their path emerged the being known as Giratina, red eyes fixed firmly on him.
“I’m willing to try, if it means stopping this nonsense,” Cyrus said, clenching his fists.
“If that’s what you want,” Cynthia said with a shrug. “But first, tell me something. What makes you so certain I’m commanding them?”
“They’ve already confessed,” Cyrus said. “I know this is your doing.”
“And you believe I can make it stop?” she asked.
“You can, and you will,” Cyrus growled.
Cynthia sighed. “If that’s all you want, then so be it,” she said. “I’ve had my fun, but I suppose it’s time to call it off.” Cynthia turned her gaze toward the Galactic admins. “I, Cynthia, now command you to cease this torture of Cyrus.”
“No,” Saturn said flatly.
“What?” Cyrus asked, voice filled with disbelief.
“Well, you heard them, hands are tied,” Cynthia said, turning away.
“Impossible,” he growled. “What are you talking about? Was she not giving you these orders?”
“Master Cyrus, no one commanded us to take care of you,” Jupiter said.
“Yeah, Cynthia just suggested it might help, but we did it on our own,” Mars continued.
“What lunacy…?” Cyrus began, unable to continue.
“It’s like they said earlier,” Saturn began, “you’ve been doing better lately. You’re eating better, sleeping better, and it shows in how you approach others. You’re calmer, more collected. You even handled Sophocles showing up, and ate Mars’ cooking.”
“Hey!” she screamed.
“We’re not doing this because someone told us to,” Saturn continued. “We’re doing this because we care about you.”
Cyrus stood motionless for a moment, unable to process what was said. He turned back to Cynthia. “This is your fault.”
“At least partially, yes,” she admitted.
“Why?” he demanded. “Why do this? Just to torment me? To weaken my resolve?”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she said, waving her hand. “After the incident with Darkrai, you agreed to find another means of achieving your goals of a perfected world. Consider this my offering as an option.”
“How is this in any way the world I desire?”
“You have friends that care about you, and your life is getting back on track,” she said. “You’re still working on it, but I can tell just by looking at you. Your face isn’t as sunken, you stand a little straighter. You’re healing, Cyrus. It’s a good thing for you.”
“I didn’t ask for it, nor do I want it,” he said certainly.
“Then just resolve not to change,” Cynthia said. “It’s not my problem. But something in you, somewhere, responded to this, even if you didn’t know it. You care about this, Cyrus, just like they care about you. That’s how this world works.”
“It’s what I aim to change,” Cyrus said.
“Then go for it, and we’ll be there to stop you again,” Cynthia said. “But if you ever decide to lean into this new life of yours, come and find me. I wouldn’t mind showing you the kind of life you can still have here.”
With that, Cynthia turned and began walking away. “Where are you going?” he called after her. “This is not over!” he shouted. Cynthia simply waved and continued walking. Cyrus growled, turned on his heel, and stormed back down the mountain. Not a word was spoken on the trip. When finally he made it back to the hideout, all he said was “Leave.” His commanders nodded and scattered. Cyrus walked into his room, and slammed the door shut, throwing himself on the bed.
As he’d done so many nights before, Cyrus stared up at his ceiling, thoughts racing. They cared? Was he truly expected to believe that? That others would care enough to be with him solely for its own sake? No ulterior motives, nothing to gain on their end? Preposterous. Impossible.
As he laid there, the familiar, soothing darkness washed over him. He felt his eyes begin to close, but a thought burned in his mind. “Darkrai, were you also…?” he started to ask, before his words left him. He could see Darkrai’s silhouette beside him, its piercing blue eyes staring into his, and for a moment, he thought maybe he understood. Darkrai was here, with nothing to gain but his presence. Every night, it now stayed be his side, its nightmares pulling him into a sleep deep enough to avoid the all-too-familiar disturbances of light and sound. All was quiet and at peace, thanks to Darkrai, his partner, who gained nothing but his friendship.
“Ridiculous,” Cyrus whispered, before drifting peacefully into sleep.