Steven looked up at Wallace, who stood more than half a head taller than him, with an expression that suggested he had expected this moment all along. His face was calm, and the quiet smile on his lips did not waver.
"We haven't seen each other in a long time, and this is what you greet me with?" Wallace frowned, crossing his arms. "Steven, that's not funny."
"Perhaps that wasn't the right word." Steven tilted his head slightly, as if turning it over in his mind. "What about 'vanished without a trace'? Or 'disappeared entirely'? Would either of those sit better with you?"
Wallace stared into Steven's eyes for a long moment.
No matter how carefully he looked, Steven's gaze was far too steady. There was no hesitation in it, no flicker of doubt. To Steven, it seemed as though he was simply stating something unremarkable — a small fact, nothing more.
Steven let out a soft chuckle. He stepped forward, placed a hand on Wallace's shoulder, and gently pressed him down into a chair.
"Don't work yourself up, Wallace."
"It's only one possibility."
Steven did not tell Wallace everything. There was a chance that He would come to Steven's door on his own. Or, if it came to it, Steven would be the one doing the knocking.
The smile on Steven's face slowly faded. When he spoke again, his voice was composed and unhurried.
"This is something I have to do. I hope you can accept that."
"You are the person I trust most in all of Hoenn."
Wallace let out a long breath. He rubbed his forehead and looked away.
"I understand." He paused. "But don't come to me until you've truly reached that point."
"Thank you," Steven said quietly.
Wallace pushed himself up from the chair with a hand on the armrest. "I knew I shouldn't have come." He straightened his coat and looked back at Steven one last time. "I hope you'll give this more thought."
With that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor until he was gone.
Steven watched the space where Wallace had disappeared and exhaled slowly.
"I've thought about it long enough, Wallace."
"This is something I have to do."
"Steven."
Diancie's gentle voice rose from somewhere deep within his chest — the quiet, sincere call of a Pokémon who had grown close enough to speak without words.
Steven turned. Diancie stood a short distance away, her small hands clasped together in front of her, her expression full of worry. Her gem-like eyes shimmered faintly in the light.
He had never planned to keep this from her. He still needed her — needed her Helping Hand, her presence, her trust.
"This is my decision," Steven said softly, and crouched down to her level. A gentle smile touched his face.
"Why?" Diancie asked, her brow furrowing with quiet confusion.
"It's hard to explain fully." Steven glanced toward the empty corridor. It was fortunate, in a way, that Wallace hadn't pressed for details either.
"But when the time comes," he continued, looking back at Diancie, "I'll need you to look after Cynthia."
He met her gaze steadily.
"You and I aren't so different, Diancie. You have a mission — to create the Sacred Diamond and keep the Diamond Kingdom from falling apart. That is something only you can do. Something you must do."
Diancie was quiet. Her soft eyes searched his face.
"I have my own mission as well. Something that only I can carry out."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, slowly, Diancie lowered her head.
"I understand, Steven."
"Thank you." Steven reached out and gently stroked the top of her head. "Please keep this between us. Don't tell Cynthia."
He paused, choosing his next words carefully.
"What lies ahead is uncertain. I don't want her carrying that weight alongside me when so little is known."
Diancie gave a small, quiet nod.
"Then let's make it a promise." Steven smiled and extended his little finger toward her.
Diancie tilted her head, puzzled. "A promise? What kind of promise is that?"
"It's called a pinky promise," Steven explained. "It means this is our agreement — one we intend to keep."
Diancie looked at his outstretched finger for a moment, then wrapped her small hand gently around it.
Steven chuckled and swung their joined hands back and forth in a small, easy rhythm.
"Pinky promise, cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye — never to change for a hundred years."
Diancie blinked. "Never to change for a hundred years? Why a hundred years?"
Steven stood, his expression warm and unhurried. "Because very few people live past a hundred years old. So saying it that way means the promise lasts forever."
Diancie nodded slowly, taking in his words with the thoughtful gravity that was so like her.
"Don't worry too much, Diancie." Steven gave her head a light pat. "While we still have time, I'll make sure you enjoy yourself."
He smiled. "Come on. Let's go home."
Steven brought Diancie back to his home in Mossdeep City.
The press conference had gone smoothly. By now, the internet was full of coverage about it — news, commentary, and discussion threads, all circling around the same topic: Pokémon: Gem. The event had done exactly what it was meant to do, drawing wide attention to the game and giving it a significant boost in popularity.
In the living room, Diancie had settled in front of the game, and was now playing quietly. It seemed to calm her — the steady rhythm of it, the focus it required. Though Pokémon: Gem was a single-player experience at its core, it also featured a PvP matchmaking mode. Players could opt into battles without any strength restrictions, which gave everyone a chance to see just how far others had taken their Pokémon — and, for some, an unpleasant reminder of how far they still had to go.
If another player ever happened to be matched against a trainer whose ID was a string of zeroes, Steven could only hope they were prepared. That ID was his. And right now, Diancie was the one playing under it.
The gap in power was, to put it plainly, significant.
Steven retrieved a package from the mailbox and carried it back inside. He sat down and opened it.
Inside, resting in its packaging, was a brand-new Pokédex — sleek, black, and modern. Its design was closer to a full-screen mobile phone than the compact Pokédex units of the past. On the back, a small camera lens and an embossed Poké Ball pattern caught the light.
Steven unfolded the instruction manual and read through it. Following the steps, he located the data card from his navigator and slid it into the card slot on the side of the new device.
The screen lit up immediately. A progress bar filled steadily, and within moments, a notification appeared confirming that the data transfer had been completed. Every message, every record that had previously been stored in his navigator had been moved over cleanly — nothing lost.
Curious, Steven held up the mobile Pokédex and took a photo of Diancie.
The image was crisp and clear.
A spinning indicator appeared on the screen, followed by the word Searching…
Then a page loaded.
There was no detailed entry — not for a Pokémon like Diancie, whose existence was more legend than record. But the device had found something. Mythological references. Historical notes. Content tied to Diancie's story, presented neatly and without delay.
Steven raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed.
The search had taken only a few seconds. That alone set this device apart from older models. He continued exploring, testing one function after another. The more he used it, the more the mobile Pokédex seemed less like a research tool and more like a seamless combination of a smartphone and a comprehensive Pokémon encyclopedia.
Want to look up a Pokémon? Simply type the name. As long as the species had been recorded somewhere, the information would appear — and according to the manual, the database was updated in real time.
Steven sat back, turning the device over in his hands.
The functions were remarkably powerful. He had a feeling that, before long, dedicated Pokédex hardware might become something of a curiosity.
Buzz buzz—
His device vibrated. An incoming call notification appeared on the screen. Steven glanced at it and answered with a small smile already on his face.
"Cynthia was remarkable at the inauguration ceremony." He paused just long enough to let the image settle in his mind.
Just like a Valkyrie riding straight out of Sinnoh.