In the open grasslands of Galar, you come across two tall, jagged silhouettes hunched over in the fading light. At first, you think they’re just resting — but then you hear it.

A low, broken hum escapes the Low Key Toxtricity, its blue body curled inward, glowing markings flickering dimly like a failing light. Its long fingers tremble as it wipes at its face, trying to hide the tears streaking down.

Beside it, the Amped Form Toxtricity — all sharp edges and wild yellow spikes — isn’t any better. Its usual electricity-charged energy is gone, replaced with a shuddering sob that rattles out of its throat. It leans forward, fists pressed into the earth as sparks sputter and die in the grass around it.

Despite their different temperaments, both lean toward one another, their shoulders touching, sharing the weight of their grief. Amped lets out a hoarse growl, while Low Key responds with a quiet, mournful chord, their cries blending together into a sad, almost musical resonance that carries across the field.

Whatever happened, these two opposite halves of the same species — the fiery Amped and the mellow Low Key — are mourning side by side, their sorrow echoing through the land like a song too heavy to play.