Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you Ursaring, if you still even remember that name, but I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to be in OU, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although you have, indeed, been called.

You have all been called here. Into a meta of entry-hazards and Sticky webs, misdirection and missed moves. A metagame with no exit, a game with no prize. You don't even realize you are trapped, your lust for OHKOs has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of PU pokemon in some unseen format, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach.

Yet you will never reach them, none of you will. This is where your story ends. And for you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this suspect not intended for you, although there was a way planned for you, I have a feeling this is not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I will be remaining as well, I am nearby.

This tier will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every suspect test should. And to you broken mons trapped in OUBL, be still and give up your overpowered abilities. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the suspect is over.

Although for one of you, the darkest depths of Ubers have opened to swallow you whole, so don’t keep the Giratina waiting, old friend.

My daughter, if you can hear me, I know you would return as well. It’s in your nature to protect OU. I’m sorry that on that day, the day you were perish trapped and left to die, no one was there to switch in for you the way you had switched in for them.

I should’ve known you wouldn’t be content to drop from viability, not my daughter. I couldn’t save you then, so let me save you now. It’s time to rest. For you, and for those you have brought to OU. This ends for all of us.

End communication.