The operations room had been repurposed three times in twelve hours.
What had started as an emergency shelter beneath Divide City Hall was now a strategy hub — maps projected onto stone walls, rune-screens hovering beside modern holotables, city officials pacing with the particular exhaustion that came from realizing a problem was bigger than their authority.
Cyrus stood near the edge of it all, arms folded, jacket still dusted with ash from the night before.
Outside, Divide City was quiet in the way a city only got after disaster — not peaceful, just holding its breath.
A tall woman with silver-threaded hair and a municipal crest pinned to her coat gestured sharply at a projection. "We've identified six possible underground access points that don't correspond to public infrastructure. Old tunnels. Pre-unification."
"Cult architecture loves forgotten spaces," another official muttered.
Cyrus leaned forward. "They weren't improvising," he said. "Last night was a test run. Darkrai wasn't rampaging — it was measuring."
A murmur rippled through the room.
"That… aligns with eyewitness accounts," the woman said carefully. "Minimal casualties. High psychological impact."
"Fear without collapse," Cyrus replied. "That's not chaos. That's calibration."
From behind him, Gengar floated lazily upside-down, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in an unusually focused stare.
"…Gen," he muttered.
Ditto, perched on the edge of the table, shifted into a firm thumbs-down.
Cyrus snorted despite himself. "Yeah. Bad vibes confirmed."
A junior analyst spoke up. "About the group itself — we intercepted references to a name. Darkness."
Cyrus blinked.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed — short, sharp, incredulous.
"You're kidding."
No one else joined in.
"That's… really what they call themselves?" he asked, wiping at his eyes. "What is this, a bedtime story?"
The silver-haired official didn't smile. "They don't appear to think so."
Cyrus sobered. "Figures."
He tapped the map. "They had resources. Knowledge. Someone fed them myth-level intel — enough to know Darkrai and Cresselia mattered, but not enough to understand what else was in play."
He felt it then.
That familiar sensation.
Not pressure.
Not threat.
A presence shifting its weight.
Cyrus straightened slowly. "They didn't act alone."
The lights flickered.
Just once.
No alarms.
No failures.
Just a subtle dim-and-return that made every Pokémon in the room react at the same time.
Gengar's grin vanished.
Ceruledge's ball hummed, low and tense.
Ursaluna's ball radiated warmth — steady, protective.
The silver-haired official followed Cyrus's gaze toward the ceiling. "What is it?"
Cyrus didn't answer.
He was already moving.
Out the side door.
Up the stone steps.
Onto the open plaza above City Hall.
The night sky stretched wide overhead, clouds drifting slow and uncertain above Divide City's fractured skyline. On one side, glowing mushrooms pulsed softly, fairy Pokémon hovering close to their trainers. On the other, shadowed spires loomed, red-veined foliage whispering with restless dark-types.
And above it all—
The moon flared.
Not brighter.
Sharper.
Its light snapped into focus like a lens finally aligned, silver radiance pouring down in a clean, undeniable beam that washed across the city.
Gasps echoed behind him as officials and guards spilled into the plaza.
Someone whispered, "That's not normal."
Cyrus felt his breath catch.
"No," he said quietly. "That's an answer."
High above, moonlight rippled across the clouds — not scattering them, but parting them, revealing a clarity that hadn't existed moments before.
Cresselia had moved.
Which meant..
Cyrus closed his eyes briefly.
"…Hoopa," he said under his breath.
A pause.
Then, drifting beside his ear like a child leaning in to share a secret:
"Ooo~ looks like the board changed."
Cyrus opened his eyes, jaw tight.
"You freed her?"
A sing-song hum.
"Maybe~"
Behind him, the city officials stared at the moon in awe and fear.
Ahead of him, Divide City stood balanced on a knife-edge that no longer belonged to mortals.
Cyrus clenched his fists.
"Alright," he said softly. "Then let's see who shows their hand next."
Above them, the moon held its light.
And somewhere in the city's forgotten depths, the Darkness cult learned...too late...that the game they thought they were playing just had it's rules rewritten.