Night did not fall on Divide City.
It arrived.
The sun sank as it always did, but the light it left behind felt thinner, like something had taken a bite out of the sky and not bothered to hide the wound. The glowing half of the city dimmed first — mushrooms pulsing slower, fairy Pokémon retreating into clustered shelters. The darker half did not brighten in response.
It sharpened.
Cyrus stood on the upper terrace of the Axis Atrium, coat pulled tight against a wind that hadn't existed an hour ago. Below him, the city prepared the way living things always did when instinct screamed louder than reason — lights shuttered, streets cleared, emergency barriers slid into place with grinding finality.
Ditto clung to his shoulder in a flattened, tense shape, its surface rippling anxiously.
Gengar hovered just off the ground beside him, grin gone, eyes narrowed, watching the sky like it expected it to blink.
Ceruledge stood behind Cyrus, sword-arms crossed, flames subdued but unwavering.
The Ursaluna remained farther back, massive silhouette steady and calm — a living anchor against the pressure rolling down from above.
Cyrus swallowed.
The moon was wrong.
Not eclipsed.
Not full.
Not new.
It glowed with a pearlescent intensity that hurt to look at directly, its light spilling across the clouds in slow, deliberate waves.
Then—
The air split.
Not tore.
Not cracked.
Parted.
A ribbon of silver descended from the moon itself, coiling as it fell, solidifying into a form both elegant and alien. Rings of light orbited her body, refracting moonbeams into cascading arcs across the city.
Cresselia.
She did not roar.
Did not cry.
Did not announce herself.
She existed, and the night bent to accommodate her.
Dream energy washed over Divide City in a palpable tide. People inside their homes felt it — tension easing, fear dulling at the edges. Pokémon that had been panicking minutes earlier stilled, eyes softening, breath evening.
Cyrus felt it too.
Not peace.
But clarity.
A presence shifted beside him.
Hoopa did not appear.
But the air twisted slightly, like fabric tugged by invisible fingers.
"Ooooh~ she's maaad," Hoopa sing-songed quietly. "But the quiet kind."
Cyrus didn't look away from the sky. "Not that I'm upset, but why did you decide to broke her chains now?"
A soft hum.
Unapologetic.
"Games are no fun with locked pieces~"
Before Cyrus could respond, the other half of the sky answered.
Darkness pooled above the darker half of Divide City, not falling from the clouds but rising from the shadows themselves. Nightmare energy bled upward, twisting into a towering silhouette that swallowed starlight.
Darkrai.
But not as the city remembered.
This was larger.
Denser.
Sharper.
The red collar-like growth around its neck burned like embers. Its shadow stretched across entire districts, warping rooftops and streets into grotesque angles beneath it. The air grew heavy — not cold, but oppressive, like breath held too long.
People screamed now.
Pokémon cried out.
The Dark-types did not flee.
They knelt.
Cyrus's heart pounded.
"This isn't just power," he murmured. "It's imbalance."
Darkrai's single visible eye fixed on Cresselia.
The space between them distorted.
Dream and nightmare collided.
The first impact wasn't visual — it was emotional.
Fear surged.
Then resolve.
Then grief.
Then hope.
Cyrus staggered, dropping to one knee as conflicting psychic waves slammed through him. Ditto wrapped around his neck instantly, anchoring him. Ursaluna can out of it's Pokéball stepping forward, planting itself between Cyrus and the skyline, absorbing part of the pressure like a living bulwark.
Gengar hissed low, shadows flaring protectively.
Ceruledge's noticing the pressure had also come out of it Pokéball flames brightened, responding instinctively to the clash of forces.
Above them, Cresselia raised her head, rings flaring as she released a pulse of lunar energy — not an attack, but a counterbalance. Moonlight cascaded outward, dissolving nightmare tendrils midair, stitching torn dreamspace back together.
Darkrai recoiled — not in pain.
In offense.
Its power surged again, this time focused, deliberate. Shadows coalesced into spears of nightmare energy that hurled themselves toward Cresselia in silent fury.
She did not dodge.
She endured.
The spears shattered against her rings, fragments dissolving into drifting motes of black that evaporated under moonlight.
Cyrus watched, breath shallow.
"Cresselia isn't trying to destroy Darkrai," he realized aloud. "She is minimizing his darkness… correcting."
Hoopa giggled softly.
"Mm~ he doesn't like being alone though."
Cyrus's head snapped slightly. "Does He not want to sleep?"
Darkrai's shadow expanded, rolling across the city like a living tide — but stopped, abruptly, as Cresselia descended another fraction, her light intensifying, her presence pressing back.
The city trembled.
Not from impact.
From decision.
This wasn't a battle for territory.
It was a reckoning.
Darkrai lashed out once more — but this time, the strike bent inward, folding into itself as if something had redirected it.
Cyrus felt it.
Hoopa's influence.
Subtle.
Careless.
Precise.
"Oooops~ angles are funny, huh?" Hoopa chimed.
Cresselia seized the moment.
Her rings spun, faster now, weaving lunar energy into a lattice that wrapped partially around Darkrai — not a prison, but a boundary. Dream energy flooded into the nightmare, diluting it, forcing it to stabilize.
Darkrai shrieked — a sound that wasn't sound — and its form flickered violently, mega energy flaring and then stuttering.
The sky cracked with light.
Then...
Stillness.
Darkrai retreated upward, dissolving into shadow that seeped back into the darker half of the city, its presence lingering but diminished, restrained.
Cresselia hovered for a moment longer, moonlight steadying.
Then she rose.
Higher.
Higher.
Until she became one with the moon once more.
The sky slowly returned to normal.
The city exhaled.
Cyrus remained kneeling, heart hammering, hands shaking.
"That… could've gone a lot worse," he said weakly.
Hoopa hummed, satisfied.
"Night's not over yet~ but it's more interesting now."
Cyrus stood slowly, staring at the moon.
Somewhere below, sirens sounded as officials began damage assessments.
Somewhere deeper, the Darkness cult reeled as their god slipped from their grasp.
And somewhere beyond mortal sight, Darkrai watched the moon — no longer alone, no longer unchecked.
Cyrus clenched his fists.
"This isn't finished."
Hoopa's voice drifted lazily around him.
"Nope~"
The night deepened.
And Divide City waited.