The stranger speaks and Keith's shoulders tense. It's been years since he heard that voice, but it's difficult to forget the voice of the person responsible for much of his friends' suffering.

"Lotor."

It's neither a question nor a greeting. However changed he may have become physically, Keith is certain of who he's speaking to. Perhaps the tone wouldn't be too surprising -- it wasn't as though the two had spoken much, even if they had been allies once. Not that that had ended disastrously or anything. He brushes aside the polite inquiry, not interested in chit chat.

"When did you get here and what's the last thing you remember?"

Sensing the hostility, the Greninja comes to stand by Keith's side.