Forms they had seen across the different dimensions that they had witnessed - keyword being witnessed, not experienced - were often incorporated into their memory not quite unlike a camera snapping a shot of any landscape or individual smiling in the hopes that their happiness would be captured for all posterity. Sometimes it would be beautiful, sometimes it would be saccharine - a gorgeous lie. But sometimes... sometimes, it was something more.
And you see, that had much to do with the mind that they had been granted from the time they had emerged from the depths of the earth with no memory at all from whence they came - only that a name repeated endlessly in the back of their mind:
Solveig, Solveig, Solveig... and then. They simply were. They adapted that name because it felt only right - fitting, for their temperament, character, and entire existence.
And in their wanderings, realizing they’d held a rather insatiable hunger for, to put it bluntly, souls, they arrived at one particularly interesting character. An individual with a sly grin and corpulent person - nobility that had played Solveig’s game.
And Solveig, uncharacteristically... had lost.
Lost! THEM! LOST! The very IDEA had been enough to send them into a rage for months, years, millennia even (an exaggeration, perhaps, but in this case it could very well have been, since to them, time means absolutely null).
But then they’d witnessed that one. The Infernape - the one who had been garnering a name for himself.
And in the hero’s heart was a great desire, one that sent Solveig’s skin crawling with excitement - skin that was oft as cold as the highest mountaintop, icy to the touch. And the heat, the HEAT of it! There was no denying that something INCREDIBLE was about to take place. Finally, that foolish nobleman would pay - a common goal between them...
And so, on this mountaintop, where oft they had observed him training, they approached. And sure enough, he was there - vigorously doing so. It seemed that this was something that would never change. But to approach him like this, or as their preferred form...
Well. They’d see. Why not take a chance?
They skip on one foot, twirling as they do so, black hair trailing behind them as they stop near effortlessly next to the hero of prophecy, the one who would undoubtedly continue to rush after those Z Crystals, hoping for something...
“Training may not be the answer to your predicament. Many have failed before you, looking far tougher than you... but few have your determination. I can tell in your stance alone.”
