It had been three days since Shion met a talking Bidoof that claimed to be Arceus.
And to his frustration, it hadn't left his side since.
"Don't walk so fast, human! These stubby legs were not made for your ridiculous pace!"
Shion glanced back over his shoulder. "You used to float across the cosmos, right? I'm sure you can manage a dirt road."
"Mock me all you want, mortal, but this body is not aerodynamic!"
Kiba barked cheerfully beside Shion, occasionally sniffing at wildflowers or rolling in the grass. Meanwhile, the self-proclaimed God of Pokémon waddled after them like an overfed berry.
Riverleaf Village hadn't changed. The skies were still blue, the wheat fields golden. Children still ran barefoot through the streets, chasing each other with wooden sticks shaped like swords. Flying-types circled lazily overhead. Farmers greeted one another with familiarity born of routine.
But to Shion, everything felt different.
He was no longer just a boy with calloused hands and a good heart.
He was now, apparently, the chosen conversational partner of a god.
A god who whined a lot.
---
"Okay, Mr. Doof, stay here," Shion said, setting Arceus on a hay bale near the field.
"I swear by my own divinity," Arceus groaned, "if I spend one more hour in this form watching you weed vegetables, I'll manifest a plague of Spoink."
"You already manifested indigestion after eating half my breakfast."
"I was reclaiming energy!"
Kiba barked happily and trotted off after a group of Pidgey.
Shion chuckled and went to work. His hands dug into the earth, pulling weeds, checking soil quality, and marking the rows of seedlings. It was grounding, quiet. Peaceful.
Or it would have been, if not for the divine commentary.
"You know," Arceus said, flipping onto its back, "I once watched a thousand stars form around the birth of a comet-god. This is worse."
Shion sighed. "Maybe try meditating."
"I am meditating! I'm meditating on how painfully boring your life is."
From a few rows away, a farmer looked up from his own crops. "Shion, you talking to yourself again?"
Shion laughed awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. Just... thinking out loud."
"You alright?"
"Yep. Never better."
He turned back to his work, muttering under his breath. "This is why I said you couldn't come."
"I'm sorry," Arceus said, dramatically sprawled on the hay like a beached berry. "Do you want to save the world or not?"
---
The rest of the day went much the same.
At the market, Shion tried to barter for rice while Arceus perched on his shoulder, muttering about the inefficiency of human currency.
"You're being scammed. Those berries were dried two days ago."
"I don't care. I like the shopkeep."
"She's tricking you with her warm smile and crow's feet!"
Shion gave her an extra coin just to spite him.
At the well, Miya found them again.
"Mr. Doof!" she squealed, grabbing the Bidoof from his arms and holding him high. "He's getting fluffier! Did you feed him, brother?"
"Not intentionally," Shion muttered.
"Praise me, child," Arceus said with a regal huff. "Yes. Raise me into the sun."
Shion whispered to him, "Stop encouraging her."
"I'm a deity. I deserve worship."
Miya twirled with the Bidoof in her arms until both fell over, giggling and flailing.
---
Later that evening, Shion joined a few other villagers for supper at the communal square. Tables were set out with baskets of bread, roasted vegetables, and savory pies. The air was filled with laughter and smells of woodsmoke.
He sat quietly, letting the warmth of the evening wash over him.
That's when he heard it.
"I heard there's an Ursaring in the woods," an older man said, voice hushed.
A younger woman leaned in. "What, just wandering?"
"No. Rampaging. Tore up a lumber camp two days ago. Left claw marks in the trees ..deep ones."
"Could be sick," someone else added. "Or possessed."
Another shook their head. "Or just angry. This summer's been hot. Maybe something scared it."
Arceus, sitting beside Shion with a berry tart shoved in his mouth, muttered under his breath. "The balance is shifting."
Shion glanced at him. "What?"
"You think legends will be the only ones to change?" Arceus said quietly. "Even ordinary Pokémon will begin to act strangely if the plates remain scattered. Nature itself becomes unstable."
Shion turned back to the fire, the words echoing in his mind.
---
That night, Shion lay in bed again, staring up at the rafters of his quiet home.
The laughter from dinner still echoed faintly outside, and Miya's snores drifted from the next room. Kiba slept at the foot of the bed, tail flicking.
And on the windowsill, Arceus sat, looking up at the stars.
"You miss being... you?" Shion asked quietly.
There was a pause.
"Yes," Arceus said. "But it's not just about me. The world is louder now. Unbalanced. I can feel it in the roots of mountains, in the winds over oceans. It's waking something."
Shion said nothing.
He stared at the ceiling and remembered the look in the old lumberjack's eyes the quiet fear when he spoke of claw marks.
"Tomorrow," Shion said softly, "I'll go to the forest."
Arceus turned to look at him.
"You're sure?"
"No," Shion admitted.
But he couldn't forget the words, or the stories, or the way the wind seemed strange lately.
He was just a farm boy.
But for the first time in his life, he felt something tugging him forward.
Something big.