That particular blast hit us hard. Spruce at least wasn't compounded by shrapnel, unlike us. Damn, what the hell did Davis pack recently?

As I rolled down the hill leaving a fading trail of purple, I realised someone was stumbling up to the crystal. Greg's words echoed in my throbbing head - "You'll kill us all!" Well, it was something similar. And he shouted it, from top of the hill with an obvious wound in his leg. I looked back at the lone Pokemon, as he/she swiped the crystal from its place and left behind a gaping... hole. A 'hole' is the best I can describe what I saw. I just wanted to save us all, lifting my magnet into the air to electrocute that thief, shortly before my vision became black. I failed. Miserably. All because I had taken enough damage for one day. The strange thing was that Desia was on the other side of the hill, busy trying to beat the life out of Davis. So... who was this mysterious figure? Or figures, maybe...

Then again, I was probably delusional. I mean, I had a concussion which was worsened by a bomb going off next to me. And I had suffered grievous wounds, some I which I suspect would require some metal to be smelted into me. Some last words resonated into my head, but were too muffled to make out.

We were all dead Pokemon.

...and only Arceus knew how we were still alive.

"Gah..." I woke up with a bunch of other Pokemon. Mostly my team, but also some apparent... strangers. Within seconds, I realised we were on a rickety cart, passing trees and bushes slowly with the help of a towering Dragonite. They were all talking, as if I forget I was even alive. I didn't mind to be honest. I caught a few words in the conversation, especially 'Scale City.' Greg was snoring, while Spruce still lost colouration. Grabbing a branch and ripping off some leaves, I wiped off the remaining purple on my wounds, thinking about where to dispose of them... after all, I wasn't sure if they could still kill something. So, I just left them beside myself. "Well. That ended well. Let's go celebrate." Sarcasm. Never ceases to exist, because it's such an amazing tool. Meanwhile, Kamina started yapping (admittedly poetically) to Celes. "Kamina, here's a quote I saved for you: 'Pain is weakness, leaving the body.' You don't want to know who made that quote, 'cause he suffered from lead poisoning and always burnt his feet with rockets." As normal as I sounded, the content of the sentence didn't exactly give good connotations. 

"Now, I need a recap. What we were discussing this morning? How about the current condition of Spruce? He's gone all monochromatic. Greg on the other hand still has a-"

"M, shut up. I had that weirdly-shaped metal removed when we got rescued by these Pokemon." Greg was alive and well. He had some weird stuff around his wound, but otherwise seemed alright.