>>58934533THEN DRAW CYNTHIA DIGESTED ALOVE TOO COON
Their last thoughts were not of battle strategies or ancient lore, but of simple, extinguished things. Diantha thought of the sunrise over Lumose City she’d never watch again, the scent of a stage after a performance, the weight of a championship trophy—all meaningless now, all dissolving. Cynthia thought of the feel of a Pokédex in her hand, the sound of Garchomp’s roar, the proud smile on Dawn’s face after a hard-won victory—all gone, all erased by the relentless, digestive squeeze.
They did not think of the other champions, of men like Steven or Leon. Their world had shrunk to this sack of flesh, this shared, gruesome fate. There was no pleasure, only the horrifying, intimate realization of their own annihilation, felt in the press of the other’s failing body.
Aldith sat by her fire, stroking Seviper’s head as it rested, utterly content. The bulge was still, the movements inside now just faint, occasional tremors.
“Finish them off slowly, Seviper,” she whispered lovingly to her Pokémon. “I want them to squirm as long as possible. Let them feel every last moment of their conversion. From champions… to chyme.”
She looked into the flames, a serene smile on her face. The encrypted channel had gone silent. The screams had ended. All that was left was the quiet, biological process of unmaking. In the stomach, Cynthia and Diantha, in their final, fading embrace, shared one last, collective, silent thought—a desperate, unanswered plea to a god that had abandoned them, swallowed by the dark and the heat and the slow, final
