Just then, Henry's Sylveon who had gotten distracted by a little old lady handing out treats back on the other street, rounded the corner. Prince chirped curiously when he saw his trainer at the end of the sidewalk, face to face, with another trainer. Henry rarely got that close to people that didn't live in the house.

Prince was so proud of his trainer!

The pink Pokemon came bounding towards them, completely unaware of the shitshow that was about to unfold before his huge blue eyes.

No, Henry insisted again. This wasn't happening. Walter wasn't real. He was another ghost, like that horrible dripping specter that had followed him for days! But there was a little skull-wearing creature at his heels. The grime from the Otherwold was missing from Walter's shoes. He was here. It was him and he was here. He was really really here.

And then Walter spoke.

His name, that's all it took. Walter's voice--the voice that had haunted his nightmares for six long years-- finally snapped that white-hot filament within the singular light bulb hanging in the attic of Henry's mind. It burst and everything went dark.

Shop doors swung close. Sprinklers started to shutter. The Pidove overhead started flapping and in the growing cacophony of the world finally starting to join, the mild mumbler's voice joined it-- the deafening scream of a god-killer.

Henry lunged at Walter, his hands clawing for his throat.

Prince threw on the brakes, eyes wide, little mouth hanging open in horror and shock. Trainer no!