"Honestly, you are the one who probably has it the worst considering it looks like you've been going through a fair amount of physical labor."
"Eh, well," He brushed it off, "when you spend most of your days tinkering with artifacts or reading charts and maps and crap behind some desk, you tend to get a bit winded dragging people out of the ocean and draining their lungs of salt water. No biggie though, might not be in the best of shape, but... I think I'll live."anyone could've seen it a lie. What little was exposed of his body behind that labcoat and semi formal attire revealed ridges of well tone muscles, even his very frame and the way he carried himself spoke more justice of the man's fitness than his tongue did. It'd be easier to sooner believe he were a walking magikarp than some mere office slouch stuck in a dead end job, staring out of the highrise window when they come to work each day and wondering to themselves, if, just if, they would finally do it today, just get it over with and break this cycle of mediocrity, this monotonous drone work for too little pay and too long of hours that steadily crushed their soul more and more each day.
"Nothing that would stop me from moving, although I believe I may have bruised a rib. Do you have any idea what on earth attacked us? Or where this is, for that matter?"
"Ah, the young lady..." He adjusted his lenses, squinting at Yuuki for just a moment. "or rather, young man here, has just asked the million dollar question! Well, to put it simply, you've been to church right? at least once in your life, probably way back when you were a little kid maybe; attendance to a house of arceus hasn't actually been mandatory in a good 150 years or so, but still... most parents have their kids baptised in his light around five or six or so, even if they aren't regular faces... anyway, the gods, they're all pretty lax, right? They got things to do, cycles of nature to control, all that jazz, far too busy to go guiding mortals towards a better world- which is what the church is for in the first place -but that raises the question... what happens when a God does stop and take notice of humans? What happens when they get pissed off, for whatever reason?"
He held up both palms and clapped without warning, the resulting shockwave of noise and force blowing across the entire beach in a fierce wind of telekinetic force as his coat billowed around him as if alive. Trees around the woodline bent and broke, sand was torn from the earth and scattered to the winds in droves, turbulence erupting skyward and striking down those few Wingulls overhead who were either to slow or too distracted to dodge the wave of certain abysmal death coming their way, as the flocks weaved and broke formation, every flying type for themselves. Even the very waves themselves were pushed back by the sheer exertion of energy, crawling away and leaving more beach bare than even low tide could've managed. It was nigh too fast to even spot, but one might've even glimpsed a bit of familiar orange light... too damn familiar for comfort. Despite the chaos only just beginning to die down all around them though, it seemed none of the seven travelers themselves were actually effected by whatever strange sorcery had been pulled.
"That, my friends, is what a Clap of Wrath looks like." He said, lowering his palms as steam curled from them, the skin redder than ruby. "What I just did, is nothing compared to a god at their strongest. Barely compares to even an angel at their weakest. I tossed this entire beach into discord, one of them could toss this entire island and the world itself with just as simple a motion as what I did... That boat, I helped build that damn thing. There was tech brimming inside that hull like you've never seen before, tech that makes military battlecruisers look like rubber life rafts after the sinking of the SS Anne a few years ago. Nothing aside from a full blown, Spectra-infused Nuclear Arm could've penetrated that armoring and torn it apart like it did." He waved a still red hand idly at the rubble and wreckage lining the shore, their scorched remains backing in the sun. Several wingulls had began to make homes within their innards, only for the nests of gathered long grasses and leaves to be torn asunder and scattered. "So... either we got fucking nuked, or somehow, somewhere, there's a mad bloke in upper management who wants us dead."
The amiable smile he wore died on that verbal sword. "regardless which it is... both theories have incredibly... nasty implications behind them. But I'm honestly hoping it's the nuke... the Brotherhood would try that type of Pre-Lumiose Convention bullshit, but a bunch of crazy people now apparently armed with the ability to destroy the world at the push of a button, we can deal with. A god who has gone off their rockers for whatever reason, on the other hand... well, Kyogre and Groudon were put into eternal sleep for a reason. Just remember that fact."