[Ancient Adamant Orb: Steel and Dragon-type move power increased by 200%. Time-based move effects increased by 400%. Grants the holder mastery over time itself. When carried by a Pokemon, grants additional power beyond normal limits.]
John stared at the item description on his Gameboy screen, his jaw practically hitting the floor.
Hold up, this wasn't just any ordinary Adamant Orb. This was something on a completely different level.
In the regular games, the standard Adamant Orb was nice but nothing to write home about, just Dialga's fancy paperweight from the modern era. But this "Ancient Adamant Orb"? This was the real deal. An ancient relic from when Dialga ruled over "Pokemon Legends: Arceus," back when Sinnoh was nothing but wilderness and Pokemon that could probably eat you for breakfast.
The ancient version's claim to fame was transforming Dialga back into its original, "I-could-probably-delete-you-from-existence" form.
"I wonder if there's still an Ancient Lustrous Orb floating around somewhere," John mused aloud, then immediately deflated. "Nah, probably not."
In all his gaming experience, he'd never seen both ancient orbs show up to the same party.
"Maybe today's Adamant Orb is just the sad, deflated cousin of this beast? Like how a photocopy gets worse each time you copy it?"
The stats certainly supported his theory. Palkia's regular Lustrous Orb offered a measly: Water and Dragon-type move power increased by 100%, space move effects increased by 200%, exactly half of what this ancient powerhouse delivered.
It was like comparing a smartphone to two tin cans connected by string.
But John didn't have time for ancient Pokemon economics. What he really wanted to know was whether this Ancient Adamant Orb could turn his Pokemon into time-manipulating masters.
After all, the Lustrous Orb had basically turned his entire team into space-bending wizards.
"Alright, Gardevoir, your turn to make history." John held out the ancient orb to his Mega Gardevoir, trying not to vibrate with excitement.
The moment the Ancient Adamant Orb left its resting spot, the time distortions that had been making reality hiccup around them vanished like they'd never existed.
Mega Gardevoir's elegant fingers closed around the crystal orb, and John's Gameboy immediately lit up with a notification that made his heart skip.
[Gardevoir absorbs "Ancient Adamant Orb" and learns the move: Roar of Time]
"YESSS!" John's victory grin could have powered a small city. "I knew it!"
His Gardevoir was now officially the only Pokemon in existence who could bend both time and space to her will, Dialga and Palkia's signature moves in one elegant package.
John's mind raced with the possibilities. His Gardevoir had just become something beyond legendary.
Sure, he felt a tiny bit bummed that she hadn't picked up a whole arsenal of time moves, but honestly? There weren't exactly a ton of time-based moves lying around. Apart from Future Sight, his psychic Pokemon move encyclopedia was coming up pretty blank.
"Hey, Greninja, Blaziken, your turn!" John whipped out their Pokeballs with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning, letting his other Pokemon get their hands on the ancient artifact.
And... absolutely nothing happened.
No dramatic notifications. No mystical energy transfers. John frantically checked their status screens, not even a decimal point had changed.
Even Lugia gave it a shot with zero results, which ruled out John's theory about Psychic-types having some special time-orb privilege.
"Guess it's a VIP-only kind of deal," John sighed, his dreams of a time-manipulating army dissolving faster than his hopes of getting eight hours of sleep.
Meanwhile, Xerneas stood there looking like someone trying to solve calculus while riding a unicycle.
'Where did that crystal disappear to? Why did it come back? What is this human doing? Why does he have more companions than a Pokemon daycare center? And why is one of them literally the Guardian of the seas?'
"Well, can't win them all." John shrugged off his disappointment with practiced ease. Having Gardevoir master Dialga's ultimate time attack was already like winning the Pokemon lottery while being struck by lightning, in the best possible way.
Now came the million-dollar question: who gets to be the permanent babysitter for this reality-bending paperweight?
Gardevoir was the obvious choice, no contest.
John couldn't help but feel a little sorry about those Steel and Dragon-type bonuses going unused, though. That 200% power boost made even legendary items like the Life Orb look like participation trophies, and the Life Orb only offered 100% power while slowly turning your Pokemon into Swiss cheese.
Forget everything else; the Ancient Adamant Orb was basically a Life Orb that had been hitting the gym for a thousand years. Any Pokemon that could rock both Steel and Dragon typing would be like strapping multiple legendary items together with duct tape and prayer.
Steel/Dragon types... that would be Hisuian Goodra or Duraludon.
"Note to self: maybe don't sleep on the metal dragons next time," John muttered.
So Gardevoir it was. Though like with the Lustrous Orb, he could always let Garchomp or Salamence borrow it occasionally, think of it as a dragon power spa day.
"Gardevoir~"
A melodious call drifted through the air like a whisper on the wind.
Definitely a Gardevoir's voice, but distant, and absolutely not his own Gardevoir, who was currently right next to him looking fabulous as always.
John's head whipped toward the source. At the forest's edge beyond the desert, another Gardevoir stood gracefully on the grass, her flowing dress dancing with the breeze. Her entire form shimmered with an otherworldly light that made her look like she'd stepped out of a fairy tale.
"She is my kin," Xerneas explained with the kind of fondness usually reserved for talking about favorite relatives.
"Kin?" John's brain immediately started connecting dots.
Probably the same deal as Entei, Raikou, and Suicune had with Ho-Oh, legendary Pokemon and their chosen proteges. So this Gardevoir was basically Xerneas's apprentice? Adopted sister? Pokemon family trees were complicated.
John didn't really care about the specifics of legendary Pokemon adoption policies. What he wanted to know was the important stuff:
"Does she have a divine seat?"
"Divine seat?" Xerneas tilted his magnificent head, looking genuinely puzzled.
Right. John remembered that "divine seats" was human bureaucratic nonsense, not something the legendaries actually used in conversation.
"Uh..." John scrambled for a better way to phrase it, then had a lightbulb moment. He pulled out the The Orb of Abundance from his collection and held it up. "Does she have something like this?"
Xerneas's ancient eyes focused on the divine artifact in John's hand, and his expression grew serious. "The power of the Original One?"
"You mean Arceus?"
"Indeed." Xerneas nodded with the gravity of someone discussing cosmic law. "Only the Original One deserves the title of God, and only He possesses the authority to crown Kings and bestow upon them fragments of His divine essence."
"So these 'Kings' are what we humans call gods, and these sacred orbs are basically power gifts from Arceus?" John's forehead wrinkled as he tried to wrap his head around legendary Pokemon politics.
It made perfect sense that the sacred orbs were Arceus's version of employee bonuses.
But the whole "only Arceus-appointed Kings get divine power" thing was throwing him for a loop.
By that logic, he already had two Pokemon with divine status, Gengar and Zoroark, but neither of them came with sacred artifacts. And he'd captured the three legendary birds fair and square, but their status screens had never displayed any fancy "King" titles.
Either the system was more complicated than Xerneas was letting on, or John had stumbled into some serious cosmic bureaucratic confusion.