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Pokémon Journey

Sinderella

Angy Tumbleweed
Staff
Location
In Guzma's Closet
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. sylveon-shiny
  2. gothitelle
  3. froslass
  4. chandelure
  5. mimikyu
Hi Josh!! I am so sorry for dragging ass on this, I'm such a dumb shit sometimes--anyway, I know the Catnip signup said any special episode, but you'd mentioned in Discord that it'd be okay if I actually STARTED Journey if I wanted to, and I really wanted to because it's been on my reading list for so long...so sorry not sorry I have a review for chapter 1 (I intended to also read chapter 2 but I'm 2 days overdue and don't want to keep you waiting) but REST ASSURED I will be back. And if you really want me to I will also review a special episode to keep in theme with Catnip if you'd like. Just LMK.

Okay, so this was a pretty solid opening chapter! We have our trainer MC, who I realized about half way through doesn't have a name yet (I glanced and spoiled myself but I know his name is Marcus lol). I'm not quite sure if it adds or takes away anything from the chapter, but in regard to personal preference, I THINK you could stand to mention his name sooner? (I did a quick ctrl + f and saw the name Marcus doesn't get mentioned until chapter 5, which is pretty far out for a name drop imho). HOWEVER COMMA, this is only chapter 1 and for all I fucking know there is a reason for that. His name isn't even mentioned in the ending Pokedex entry and whatnot, but it is in some of the others I glanced at, so, for now, I'm giving benefit of the doubt there and for all I know there's a plot reason for it. So this entire paragraph might be absolutely useless. Forgive me father for I have sinned.

I have to say that I usually get hella thrown by first person stories, as in they take me a hot second to get into because I am hardwired to third person, but I really enjoyed Unnamed Marcus's train of thought going into this battle. The way he thinks about his town, and just how obscure it is, and how his whole life might turn out if he doesn't get past this battle, it felt so real. Like I've had those kinds of thought progressions going into big things (ofc not as big as a goddamn animal battle but yk what i mean son), so it was...grounding, I guess? Like really solidifying him as a realistic character so to speak. I don't know how to word myself there, it's midnight and I'm on my third cup of black tea, I'm trying my best :) Simply put, I like him so far. I like how he hypes himself up, and I like how he thinks about his Pokemon??? Like, he just seems like he's so good to them, just from what I've seen about how he commands them in battle? Calling Curie HIS WITTOL BABY??? That's just...precious. We love a man who takes good care babies.

Where I start to raise questions begins with Unnamed Marcus's approach to the battle. I definitely know that this is a more realistic approach to the Pokemon world and a journey fic overall, but Unnamed Marcus felt RIDICULOUSLY underprepared for this battle. Which, is definitely not a bad thing, but the whole time I was wondering why he didn't spend a little more time training Curie, or even buffing Luna up some more knowing he was going in with an ill fated type matchup. It was briefly mentioned that Unnamed Marcus blew a lot of his savings on "starter training" so I'm wondering if that's why he went in so ready to play on the timer? Knowing he lacked the funds to keep training otherwise? I'm still not entirely sure how "training" in general works in this world, so forgive me if I'm raising some god awful stupid points that would be answered as soon as I read chapter 2 or something lol. I will say, playing on the timer WAS a clever way to go about it though, by sending out this wittol babey to distract Shale for some time--that says a lot about how his mind works. He might not have the strength yet but at least my man can strategize.

Technical wise, I noticed that you tend to repeat things a lot in your prose. I'll forego getting into it here and save it for my short line-by-lines to follow, but in general, you sometimes will mention something, then reiterate it again a few lines later. Stuff like that can really bog a piece down, and I'm speaking from experience because I used to do it too--you HAVE TO MAKE SURE readers understand what's going on, yk. I feel you on that lmao. But for something like that, you need to trust that your reader got it the first time, and keep on trucking along. Repeating things over and over again will take away the snappiness of your prose and subtracts from the action. Once something's been made clear, we want to keep going, not return to the same thing again.

Once more, I apologize for the late, and hope this chonker suffices. As always my DM's are open (not in the Guzma way) if you have any questions or concerns, and I'm looking forward to getting back to this. Cheers! :D

I blocked out the stadium lights as my eyes adjusted to the sudden light.
Syntax repetition here that could be snappier. Something like "I blocked out the stadium lights as my eyes adjusted to their sudden glare."

The geodude rocketed through the molten sand, emerging from the ground several meters away. It was bright red, dripping with molten sand and glowing with heat.
Another syntax repetition here. Could replace the second molten sand with "magma" or something along those lines.

I didn't have to do anything. Curie could entertain that onix for the rest of the round, keeping her attention off the fact that this was a gym battle. Nothing and nobody could resist Curie's adorable attitude if she wanted your attention.
Marked this because you'd already previously stated that Curie was so cute she melted hearts (including Unnamed Marcus's himself), so this little bit of exposition could be cut down into a snappier something like "as expected, Shale was not immune to those baby charms, because--" and so and and so forth.

With a satisfied grin, I lifted her ball off my belt and returned my happiny to her ball. I couldn't be more proud of my baby girl. She had done her job and eaten up all but two minutes of the round just by being an adorable baby. She'd get her chance to shine in battle eventually, but for now she could be the best damn stalling tactic a guy could ask for.
Bolded part is kind of stating the obvious, being that you've already mentioned that she ate up 2 minutes. You could stand to end it off at "I could train her to be more brutish, but for now, this'll do." Or something.

She was quick, but Shale was faster than I had anticipated.
Shale was fast. Faster than a gigantic rock monster had any right to be.
Kind of like what I mentioned before, saying one thing then repeating it again a few lines later. You could honestly just combine these lines and it'd be fine.

I knew what to expect. Shale was Brock's pride and joy, bred from the titanic onix that fought on Brock's championship team. She was a pale green, flecks of silver metal running through the boulders that made up her serpentine body. It was a side effect of her parentage, something to do with being the offspring of Brock's first onix and Galar's Raihan's prized duraludon. He would be a monster in a few years, but right now he was just a baby.
Bolded confused me because isn't Shale a she? Or were you referring to something else and I'm just too stupid to see it? It's 1am help.

It was a gambit, banking on Shale moving to quickly to turn easily.

Luna led the massive rock serpent on a desperate chase, dashing into the hollow rock as Shale slammed into the base of the rock when she cut too closely.

Luna was gone, disappeared into the rock.
This is just a minor thing, but a lot of repetition of rock here. I think the main issue here, though, is the second line once again reiterating that Luna had gone inside the rock. That part could be erased and this would be fine.

Like I said, teeny line-by-lines that was mostly just some nitpicky things, but I'm vibing with this so far. Keep up the good work, and I'll be back around :)
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Hey there! For our review exchange, I chose A Second Chance since the premise was interesting to me. I'm glad I chose it. Here are my thoughts.

Quote Comments

The sharp, piercing sound of laughter echoed through the trees, breaking nature's reverie. I heard voices clamouring over each other and then the distant roar of a chainsaw. I scanned the forest carefully. I did not trust that the loggers hadn't followed me out here to dispose of me far from any prying eyes. It would not have been the first time that loggers had tried.
bruuhhhh thats so evil

Goldeen went flashing deeper into the lake, scattered by my splashing. An ursaring and a pair of teddiursa cubs watched me carefully from the far shore of the lake. I rose, my strength returned. I had only bathed in the lake like this once before, and my wounds had been far worse then.
I really love the imagery of the lake. The fact that he sees a bear with cubs and doesn't immediately feel like he's in danger conveys to me that this is such a sacred place that even the mon of the forest know to respect the peace.

"Greetings, guardian. I bring you the last offering my people can muster." I hung my head in shame, letting the forest's protector see my true feelings..
There's two periods at the end of this sentence, you probably wanted one or three.

Ilex must stand else Johto will wither on the vine.
Missing punctuation and/or words here?

"Bowen," she said as she rose from her chair. Her hand was draped over her bulging belly and she strained to rise with a smile. "I thought you wouldn't be back until dark?" She shuffled toward me, a happy smile on her face. "The baby's been so active today. She won't stop kicking!"

I stepped closer, putting my hand over her pregnant belly. All the worry in my mind faded and all I could think about was the future my family had been robbed of. "I've had a vision," I started. "A terrible omen. Our children are in danger."

The baby kicked and I saw my dear wife beam at the little outburst. The stress of losing our twins had wasted my Tasha away until she had lost the baby. I pulled my hand away and a flicker of hope grew in my chest. This was what I had been taken back for, the mistake I had made. My family had crumbled under the loss we suffered on this day.

I clenched my fists. "The boys are not here," I said calmly. I knew that I had to find them, that had been my mistake. "The spirit must have brought me back for them." I looked up at her. "Where are the boys?"

"They were off running with Terra. I think Towa had trusted them with the baby." She paused for a moment. "Should I be worried?" She asked. I could hear the nerves creeping into her voice, the same nerves that I wrestled with myself. She should be worried, as our lived had forever dimmed because of this terrible day, but she didn't have to know that. She didn't have to experience any of that.
Tasha doesn't seem to react at all to Bowen's first line to her? It's weird given how ominous it is.

We never found the boys when they disappeared. Not even bones or any signs of struggle. It was as if they'd simply disappeared. Once, near the sacred lake, I had happened across a scrap of bloody leather that might have belonged to one of their attire, but I had no way to know for sure.
At this point I thought for a moment that Celebi was the one that killed them and magicked away their bodies and that Bowen was gonna find out and reject Celebi as a god lol

My weak willed self nearly gave in, but the fading memory of my my sons' faces lent me resolve.
Extra my.

Then I heard it. The deep, throaty bellow of an angry ursaring. It was loud and clear, maybe twenty feet ahead of me. A terrified shriek followed a half-moment later, accompanied by a thunderous crack of lightning as the rain started to fall.
I heard my boys screaming in terror and caught Terra's whimper of fear. Diana shrieked madly, and the rain poured down in torrents.
I kind of forgot it was meant to be raining for the whole time between these two paragraphs because I don't think it gets mentioned or described at all. It's not a big deal, but since the description gets so up and close with everything else, it felt a bit off, especially since a torrent is really something hard to ignore and you'd notice when it comes down on you. Unless, of course, the canopy is so thick that the rain isn't meeting the ground where they're standing, but even then I could have done with a little more acknowledgement.

"Help me over to the shrine boys," I started.
the shrine boys???? omg i love the shrine boys theyre my favorite band

General Comments

So I really, really liked the first half. It's highly atmospheric with beautiful imagery - the sacred lake, the village collapsing - and it gets us very engaged in the main character's conflict and the fate of the forest. I got a little teary-eyed, even. If I had one critique to give, it was that it took me a while to actually realize the houses were on the trees, but that was before I realized I really should have googled Arborville and found out it was an actual anime location as soon as I first came across the name.

Then there's the second half, by which I basically mean everything that happens after the time travel scene. It isn't bad. There's nothing really wrong about it. The prose is still very nice. The problem for me was that it just didn't seem to match the first half. Not because of any continuity issues or the story subject changing to something completely irrelevant, but because... well, it's kind of hard to describe, but I feel like I read the conclusion of a different story than the one I started.

What I was expecting at the halfway point was that there was some kind of twist coming. Like that Bowen thinks he's saving his kids when the takes the obvious route, but it actually wasn't that, but rather something that would challenge his beliefs and eventually result in making a hard choice of his family over his duty to the forest. Instead, Bowen takes the obvious route... and that's just the correct route and what he was supposed to do. He dies in the process, yeah, but as soon as I realized he hadn't replaced his past self but that his past self was still actually walking around, I knew it was going to have to happen regardless, so it didn't really come across to me as a twist. Bowen doesn't seem to be that surprised about it, either.

What left me hanging the most, though, was how we never saw the new future. I really wanted to see that other Bowen with his adult sons (and his wife's grown up baby) standing down the loggers together or something. It would have bookended the story very nicely, but more importantly, it would have given a satisfying resolution to the main conflict given in the first half, which was the fate of the forest. The way the story is now, that plot thread is almost forgotten by the end, and the focus is on his family - which would have made sense if he'd come to realize throughout the story how important his family is, but here he already knows that from the beginning as he's been feeling terrible about his sons' disappearance for presumably decades.

It was somewhat challenging to put this in words, and I'm still not sure if I've conveyed my point correctly, so if you want to ask for clarification on anything, I'll be glad to talk more in DMs or wherever you want to have the conversation. Despite my issues with the second half, I'm still glad I read this story, and I think there's much potential in it to become something even better.

For now, that does it for my thoughts. Thank you for taking me up on this exchange, and see you around.
 
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Born, Rebuilt

Joshthewriter

Charizard Fan
Location
Toronto
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. charizard
Born, Rebuilt


The sky burns red like it is day even though the sun set hours ago. Streams of fire trail through the smoking sky and the air feels hot on my carapace.

My den-mate shifts at my side, her attention turning to me and away from the other Scythe-Arms standing at the ready.

She sings a worrisome note, full of passion and regret. It shifts down lower and becomes a threatening chitter as the forest rumbles with violent tremors.

I chirp acknowledgement and echo her threat, raising my scythes as our foe makes himself known.

Strong-Jaw, King of the Beasts, barrels through the trees, splintering and knocking aside trunks that have stood since before I was hatched.

We have warred with Strong-Jaw and his young for ages. He ignores our closed ranks and bared scythes, panting desperately as he ran straight past our formation.

I watch him go. He is alone, none of the young that terrorize our nests are with him. His hide is charred in places, completely burned away in others. I did not notice at first, but he limps with every step.

I chirp a warning at my den-mate, at the other Scythe-Arms. I am drowned out by the agonizing roar of the sky.

It falls across the sky, fire and light trailing behind it and bathing our den by the river in red warmth. Smoke obscures it for a moment. A flash of light in the smoke shook the ground.

I feel the wave of heat and earth roll over me. Then I feel nothing but darkness.


Darkness like the blackest night. Vibrations like songs through water. It drains off my body like a river does. Vibrations like voices through air.

I do not understand the vibrations. They are sour, the wrong notes. I raise my scythe, but the blade on my arm is gone.

Darkness falls and night takes me again. I thrash but something holds me down. I feel the cold liquid rising up my unfamiliar body. It is wrong, sharp and hard angles where soft sweeping curves should be. I thrash and struggle once more as the liquid pours past my mandibles and down my gullet.

Exhaustion takes me with the cold and sleep returns. I dream of rushing streams and leafy green trees that never end.


Darkness like blackest night. Vibrations like songs through water. The liquid drains from my body again, changing the sounds with its absence. I know they are voices now. Something feels different. It tells me that the voices are speaking to me. I open my eyes and see nothing but blurry figures.

I do not understand the voices, though I understand their intent and tones. They are proud and yet frustrated. The notes still feel sour, like I have eaten something fouled by the sun.

I do not trust the sour notes. I raise my scythe and remember that it is gone. It is cold and sharp and shorter than it should be. A predator must have damaged it. Strong-Jaw, before the sky-fire, or the sky-fire itself.

Darkness returns and I feel the disappointment in the voices. I feel the cold liquid returning, splashing off a carapace that is harder and colder than it should be. Exhaustion returns as it drowns me and the dreams are not so sweet as before.


Darkness like blackest night fades as the tube slides open. I feel the thick liquid falling off my metal carapace and can feel the vibrations of voices shift in response.

I can understand the vibrations. They are the wrong notes but they are greeting me. The notes sound like Rock-Dwellers, from near the mouth of the river. I do not trust the Rock-Dwellers. They keep to themselves and prefer the long poison water that none can drink.

I see the creatures outside of the open tube. They are strange, shorter than I am and utterly nonthreatening. The have no claws, no fangs, no fire or lightning. They stand on two legs and I can feel their voices behind the Rock-Dwellers'.

I try to take a step, unfamiliar joints creaking in the cold as I moved them for the first time. I fall and my metal carapace slams hard against the glass of the tube. I try to rise but something heavy and wide on my back keeps me off balance.

I cry out and my voice screams in sour, rancid notes. It is wrong. My stomach churns and revolts at the sound of my own voice but there is nothing in my stomach. I draw my scythe-less arms close and realize that I am unsure if I even have a stomach anymore. My body is no longer my own.

The voices are urgent, shouting to each other. I can feel their panic through the sour notes. It fills me with fear. I must escape.

I thrust my arm forward but it does not possess the strength it should. My arm glances off a clear barrier between myself the strange Two-Legs. The tube slams shut and darkness like blackest night returns. I bite and slash and bash my heavy, metal carapace against the barrier but it does not give.

Thick, cold liquids slosh around my feet, climbing higher by the second. I feel it drain the strength from my legs and I collapse into the frothy mess.

I cannot help my eyes from closing. Blackest night takes me and I dream of a fiery sky.


Blackest night recedes. The songs are angry now. The Two-Legs chatter back at each other. I watch carefully. I must learn before I escape.

The Two-Legs are Kings of this place. They have me in a tube. My body has changed. I am unsure of why. The cold makes it difficult to think.

A great metal beast roars into the room. I feel its roar in my carapace, feel the vibrations with no song in them. It lowers the long metal tusks on its face and spears the bottom of the tube, lifting it off the base it sits upon. The liquids drain from the tube and I hear them splash against the ground.

I hear the Rock-Dwellers again. I know it is the Two-Legs. They mask their sour songs with the Rock-Dwellers'. They ask me to be calm. I pretend to be and do not move.

The metal beast turns as it lifts me and carries the tube from the room. The beast does not breathe, but it does roar and rumble and breathe smoky air. I lie in wait and keep my wary eyes on the Tusk-Beast. It carries me into a large chamber carved from stone.

The Tusk-Beast sets me down and turns to leave. I hear it go as it rumbles out of my view. The Tusk-Beast finally rumbles out of view and I hear a heavy rumble and grind. Then silence falls and the tube opens.

I step out of my tube, sniffing at the air. It tastes damp and stale and the cold makes me feel lethargic. I shake the exhaustion from my mind and listen intently. The Tusk-Beast brought me heat for a reason.

I can hear the poison water. Great rumbling of tides and currents crash against something in the distance. Then I hear it.

Pebbles and rocks shift. I hear the harsh scrape of claws and a threatening metallic song fills the air.

My enhanced senses find the source. It is as large as I am, built from menacing black metal and covered in metal points. Its song is threatening, but also scared.

I sing a calm note, but my changed voice sours the song. It enrages the Metal-Point and I feel its terror swell in the creature's song.

A long, loud note sounds out. It is mechanical in nature. There is no song, just the note. Then it ends and a muted song, with hidden notes begins.

I hear the Rock-Dwellers-who-are-Two-Legs sing again. They tell me to attack the Metal-Point from afar. They want me to kill Metal-Point with fire and lightning and ice and water.

I do not understand. Scythe-Arms do not attack from afar. Scythe-Arms slash and bash and fight foes in reach of our scythes.

As if by its own volition, I feel my carapace shifting. Something heavy and unwieldy emerges from my own body. I cannot turn and see what it is. It a part of me and I can feel it extending.

Metal-Point shrieks a terrified song. It is afraid of me. I understand that fear. I am afraid of me as well. I try to sing a reassuring song. I cannot hurt Metal-Point if it stays away.

Metal-Point loses to its fear and sings an angry song. It runs at me and raises its arm-blades. I cry in warning. I do not want to hurt Metal-Point.

My head screams and something takes control of my body. I scream and fight but I do not move. My body ignores my mind and Metal-Point draws closer.

I feel the appendage on my back shifting, aiming at Metal-Point. I feel the fire and lightning and ice and water surge inside of me. It flies free in a beam of crackling power.

When the beam of fire and lightning and ice and water dies, Metal-Point is gone. There is a puddle of grey and black on the floor where it stood. I am scared. I do not understand. Scythe-Arms cannot do this. Scythe-Arms do not do this.

I feel my brain buzz with noise and vibration, then the darkness like blackest night returns. I dream of poison water and Two-Legs who wear Rock-Dwellers' voices.


Darkness like blackest night recedes. I am back inside my tube. The Two-Legs are watching me. Their songs are quiet but I hear the vibration through the tube.

My tube opens. I am still in the big chamber. The ocean sings, muffled through rock and distance. Two-Legs with Rock-Dwellers' voices tell me to leave the tube.

I listen to the songs and reluctantly emerge from my prison. There is no Metal-Point. There is no puddle.

The songs tell me to fly. I bristle at the suggestion. Scythe-Arms cannot fly. We have no wings and we are heavy.

The song asks again, more insistent.

I chirp a frustrated answer.

The songs ask me over again. They are frustrated with me. They tell me to fly or they will make me fly.

I do not understand. I cannot fly. I open my mouth to sing an answer and my brain stops. Fuzzy indifference takes my mind. I feel my body twisting and moving, slotting together in unfamiliar ways. I feel myself lift off the ground though I do not know how.

The fuzzy sensation takes over and I do not fight as control of my own body is taken from me. I feel my body moving. It is clumsy, like a hatchling is. I crash to the ground and my metal carapace makes loud scraping noises.

The songs return. They tell me to fly or they will make me. I do not understand. The fuzzy indifference returns and I do not fight as my consciousness slips away. I feel my body flying and soaring but I do not care.

The Two-Legs make me fly until I they are done. They make me return to the tube and the darkness like blackest night returns.


The darkness lifts as my tube opens. I am ready this time. I hear the songs that the Two-Legs sing but I do not care.

I fold and snap and crunch my body into a strange shape so that I can fly. I soar and turn so that I do not crash into the wall. My changed body can take the impact but I do not wish to test my durability.

Fuzzy confusion fills my brain. I do not see the wall coming. I crash hard and land on the cold rocky ground. My body unfolds and I lay still.

Two-Legs' songs return. They are furious. They did not expect that I would try to escape. I feel my brain slowing down and can see darkness returning.

I try to rise. I struggle and fight with limbs that bend in wrong directions and snap together in strange ways. I fall again and darkness creeps further in.

I fight the darkness this time. I must remain awake. I must escape this place. I must see the sky and the sea and my den-mate. I force my feet to remain underneath me and haul myself up on arms without scythes.

I hear metal grating on metal and an angry rhythm of footfalls. They come from around the corner, the Two-Legs bearing metal tubes.

My mind clicks into place and the darkness fades. I feel the fuzzy confusion slip away and razor sharp focus replaces it.

I am different. I am not Scythe-Arms. I must fight like I am different.

I feel my back open and the contraption within slide out. I know what it is now. It is unwieldy and large but I know what to do with it. I think of using fire and lightning and ice and water and think of it leaving a puddle of Two-Legs.

Then the Two-Legs raises his metal tube. I feel the song shake my carapace. I feel the sour, furious notes drive into my head. The sound-tube in Two-Legs' hands makes me fall, my legs bending and bowing under the vibration of sound.

I drop to one knee as fire and lighting and ice and water erupts from the cannon on my back. It hits the ceiling and tears through to the sky. I see rock and dust fall from the ceiling and feel the impact of it through my carapace.

I see sunlight for a brief moment. It is happy and hopeful and I try to fly to it. But my body refuses to bend and snap into place and I cannot walk. The Two-Legs' sound-tube is too powerful. Darkness returns and I let it take me once more.


He strode through the doors, one of the Shadow Triad leading him deeper into the facility. He brushed his long green hair from his eyes and followed the mysterious shinobi.

The island had been little more than an inhospitable rock in the middle of the ocean, but Plasma had bigger plans for it. Even he, King of Team Plasma, knew little of what happened here. This was Father's island, his place to experiment on ways to aid him with their grand plan.

He had been told to disregard anything that he saw here that seemed contrary to his beliefs. That the island and the experiments don't underneath it were essential to Plasma's dreams of worldwide pokemon liberation. However, as the doors to the lower labs opened, N couldn't help but shake the sense that something was completely and utterly wrong.



The tube does not open as I wake. I gently touch the tube with one shortened forelimb and listen deeply to the song. It is different than before. Hesitant and supplicant.

I retract my arm. They are inattentive for the moment. I will have only moments before my venture is discovered. Moments before the Two-Legs force the darkness back upon me.

My back splits apart and the cannon within unfolds. I aim it up, where I know that the sky is. I feel the fire and lightning and ice and water surge within me, feel the rage and hatred for my imprisonment. I look up and I blast the world above me with power that no Scythe-Arms has ever known.

The tube melts around me as the rock and metal above simply ceases to be. I hear furious, desperate songs and sweep my ire across the white-walled chamber. It melts at the touch of fire and lightning and ice and water and I paint the room with deadly colour.

Puddles of Two-Legs are all that I leave in my wake. Fury and hatred block out their songs as I compose my own symphony. It is glorious. It is right. Revenge is not a concept I am born with, but the Two-Legs have taught it to me in their cruelty.

The roof falls down on the puddles of Two-Legs I leave behind. I can hear their songs of terror grow louder, can taste the end of their sour notes as I silence them entirely.

Then I hear it. The ocean sings in the distance, muffled by crackling fire and deafening explosions. I point the cannon on my back at where I know the sky should be. I let my fury guide me and carve a path through layer upon layer of rock and metal.

Two-Legs retaliate now, with sound-tubes and metal monsters that look like I do. The Copy-Scythes lumber towards me as the Two-Legs take up firing positions in the rooms above me. I cut off the instrument of my wrath and turn my attention away from the ceiling.

I dash out of the way of a hammer of sound on jets that propel me into a pair of the Copy-Scythes. They do not sing, do not vibrate with life. They are not like me. Not alive.

The first tries to unfold its cannon. I do not let it. Empty metal clatters to the ground. My attention shifts to the second and it falls to my rage as well.

The sound hammer returns as more Two-Legs shoot me with sound-tubes, dropping me to all four limbs. My mind fights the deafening song but I can feel my body failing. My vision fades and all I can hear is the chorus of sound as it pummels me into the ground.

I do not have time. The Two-Legs will kill me. I must stop them. I must escape.

I aim my cannon vaguely up and guess at where the Two-Legs are firing from. I will have only one chance. I feel the raw power of fire and lightning and ice and water surge through me and I hope that my aim is true.


He wrenched the door open, the shadow triad stepping through with his blade drawn. They needed to reach the surface before whatever set off the facility alarms caught up to him. Plasma needed its King more than it needed whatever he had been sent here for.

N moved to follow the shinobi, but a wave of raw hatred and fury washed over him. Confusion wracked his mind for a moment. Then he understood.

Pokemon were open to him. Like reading a book, or listening to a song, he could sense their emotions or feel the intent in their minds. Father had called him an Empath once. He said that N was attuned to pokemon rather than humans and that was why he had taken the boy in and placed him atop Plasma's throne. That it was his gift that made their dreams of pokemon liberation a possibility.

What he sensed now was that empathy picking up on vengeful presence. He felt the hatred, felt the fury. But he also felt the confusion and fear, the horror of a pokemon's soul in utter distress.

He looked up, intending to say something to the shinobi. He never got a chance. The stairwell simply ceased to be, destructive energy tearing through rebar reinforced concrete as if it were paper. The shinobi was gone, leaving naught but a steaming puddle that sloughed into an open pit behind.

N peered down the hole as frantic shouting filled the underground chamber. Deafening blasts of raw sound echoed from below, along with an artificial roar of fury.

He could feel it. Pain and confusion mixing with fear in a primordial soup of emotion. Vengeance bubbled from the hatred and N knew that something terrible was happening. A pokemon was in trouble. It was in pain and crying out for a mate that would never come.

N's choice was made. He would not abandon a pokemon in need. Not now, not ever. Not as long as he was King. Not as long as he still drew breath.



Two-Legs fall all around me as the upper levels begin to collapse. I dispatch them all before they can find their sound-tubes. My scythes are gone, but my arms are still sharp. I enjoy the violence. It feels familiar. It feels normal.

My jets fire again, lifting me away from the retaliation from the Two-Legs still above. I ascend several floors before a hammer of sound crushes me into a wall and out of the line of fire. More Copy-Scythes, more empty shells, land on the floor I am on and lumber towards me.

I unfold my cannon and lay waste to them all. They are empty. They have no song. Like me, except filled with a void like night. I do not spare any of them.

I turn my attention upwards again. There are more Two-Legs with sound-tubes but I know that I can kill them all. I will kill them all and escape. I will be free. I can almost hear the happy song of freedom, can almost taste the fresh air.

I aim my cannon up at the ceiling again and let my wrath carve a path to freedom.


He landed and stumbled as the entire facility groaned and shook. The same beam of destruction tore through the floor, immolating one of the men in lab coats. Then the beam ended and the remaining scientists prepped their weapons.

N had never seen them before, but they looked like strange rifles from something out of a sci-fi movie. One of the scientists fired down into the hole, blasting it with raw sound that forced N to cover his ears even at a distance.

Then it came. It was a blur of purple-red metal, stained by bloody viscera. The scientist that had been firing into the hole fell back, a gaping wound in his chest.

The scientists scattered, a brave few raising their rifles to fire. Whether to buy their colleagues some time or bring down the monster that had killed them, N could not say. But he knew he had to stop it. He could feel the terror radiating from the metal beast, could see its fear turning into hatred. He knew that the creature was a scared and lonely pokemon, lashing out in its confusion.

N would stop it. N would stop the violence if it was the last thing he ever did. N would show this creature a different way.

He planted his feet on the cold, corrugated metal. He locked eyes with the metal creature as it levelled the smoking cannon on its back at him. He felt their hearts meet and he spoke.



The Two-Legs lay dead or run for their lives. Except for the Leaf-Hair. It looked at him, speaking in a low and calming tune. The song was not rancid. It felt like home, like the river and the den he shared with his mate.

I sing back, my own notes of warning and threat still sour and putrid. But the Leaf-Hair did not flee. Leaf-Hair stood there, singing his own song of forgiveness and regret. Leaf-Hair sang of love and of loss, of finding something new.

I join his song. Something new to replace what is lost. Sour notes and perfect tones mix together and a new harmony is born. It is not perfect but I feel kinship stirring in my metal chest.

One of the Two-Legs raises its sound-tube. Leaf-Hair exclaims in fury at the Two-Legs. It drops the sound-tube. I hear more sound-tubes fall to the floor and realize that I had been surrounded.

Leaf-Hair turns and beckons for me to follow. I do. Leaf-Hair is a Two-Legs. But Leaf-Hair is different than the Two-Legs who kept me in the tube.

I ponder the difference and Leaf-Hair leads me through the broken den. We twist and turn and climb and I finally see the sky. I taste it and smell it and hear the songs of a world that has passed me by.

Leaf-Hair sings again and sings of loneliness. He sings of freedom and I look to the open sky.

My body shifts and clanks and snaps together awkwardly. I lift off the ground and I hear the song continue. Leaf-Hair sings of family. He sings of love and of loss. He sings of something new.

I hang there in the air for a long time, listening to Leaf-Hair sing. It is calming. It is peaceful. It is right.

I set back down on the sandy beach. My body snaps and cracks and changes so that I can stand again. I join Leaf-Hair's song. I sing of peace and calm. I sing of family.

As I sing, I feel at home. My den is gone. My mate is gone. But I do not have to be alone. I do not want to sing alone. Not anymore.


This fic is my entry to r/pokemonfanfiction summer one shot contest!

It also is a part of my Journey-verse, set before my other Unova story. I hope you all enjoyed it! Please let me know what you thought in the comments!
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Hey there! Starting off another exchange with Born, Rebuilt.

Quote Comments

Strong-Jaw, King of the Beasts, barrels through the trees, splintering and knocking aside trunks that have stood since before I was hatched.
I like the nicknames given to the creatures based on their appearance. It reminds me of The Land Before Time that way.

It drains off my body like a river does.
I read this multiple times and couldn't understand what it meant until later when I figured out its talking about the fluid draining out of the tube. Somehow my brain got stuck thinking "draining off" someone's body was some kind of thing that was done to the body.

I try to take a step, unfamiliar joints creaking in the cold as I moved them for the first time. I fall and my metal carapace slams hard against the glass of the tube. I try to rise but something heavy and wide on my back keeps me off balance.

I cry out and my voice screams in sour, rancid notes. It is wrong. My stomach churns and revolts at the sound of my own voice but there is nothing in my stomach. I draw my scythe-less arms close and realize that I am unsure if I even have a stomach anymore. My body is no longer my own.

The voices are urgent, shouting to each other. I can feel their panic through the sour notes. It fills me with fear. I must escape.

I thrust my arm forward but it does not possess the strength it should. My arm glances off a clear barrier between myself the strange Two-Legs. The tube slams shut and darkness like blackest night returns. I bite and slash and bash my heavy, metal carapace against the barrier but it does not give.
It seems like here Scythe-Arms briefly knows what glass is in the first quote and then doesn't in the later quote.

A great metal beast roars into the room. I feel its roar in my carapace, feel the vibrations with no song in them. It lowers the long metal tusks on its face and spears the bottom of the tube, lifting it off the base it sits upon. The liquids drain from the tube and I hear them splash against the ground.

I hear the Rock-Dwellers again. I know it is the Two-Legs. They mask their sour songs with the Rock-Dwellers'. They ask me to be calm. I pretend to be and do not move.

The metal beast turns as it lifts me and carries the tube from the room. The beast does not breathe, but it does roar and rumble and breathe smoky air. I lie in wait and keep my wary eyes on the Tusk-Beast. It carries me into a large chamber carved from stone.

The Tusk-Beast sets me down and turns to leave. I hear it go as it rumbles out of my view. The Tusk-Beast finally rumbles out of view and I hear a heavy rumble and grind. Then silence falls and the tube opens.
I like that he sees the forklift as a tusked beast. Makes sense.

It a part of me and I can feel it extending.
hehe

(*It is)

He had been told to disregard anything that he saw here that seemed contrary to his beliefs.
always a good sign

Revenge is not a concept I am born with, but the Two-Legs have taught it to me in their cruelty.
ehhhhhh. I mean his pack was already warring against the Tyrantrum. It's a little hard to believe he didn't have a concept of retribution before this, and it's a bit on the nose as a notion, too.

N had never seen them before, but they looked like strange rifles from something out of a sci-fi movie. One of the scientists fired down into the hole, blasting it with raw sound that forced N to cover his ears even at a distance.
I actually thought they were just regular guns before and that the Scythe-Arms was talking about the sound of gunshots and the shockwave produced by a bullet hitting him. I didn't spot him ever mentioning pain (which he probably can't feel in this new body anyway), so I didn't think the lack of it would point away from regular guns.

General Comments

I like the xeno angle here a lot - however, I do think some places went a bit too far with it, resulting in confusion on my part. To some extent, the confusion works in the story's favor as it mirrors the POV's confusion, but the ones I'm thinking of now feel like I was supposed to understand them but didn't. One is that I kinda struggled to tell what was going on sometimes due to the minimal description that can be misinterpreted, and the other was just having no idea what the Rock-Dwellers were. Since about the only description we get of them was where they lived and that they drank "long poison water", I don't have any kind of mental image, which means the later descriptions also are just too cryptic for me. I don't know if "masking their voices with the Rock-Dwellers'" is the humans having helmets or microphones or speakers or what. It ends up meaning nothing to me, and I very much doubt that was the intended outcome.

I was happy that we got a good ending (well, a bunch of people died, but they were being assholes) and N got through to the Scythe-Arms, but I did feel like it all happened a bit too quickly and anticlimactically. I wondered if it was a word count constraint thing since this was for a contest, but 4.3k didn't seem really close to any sensible limit that could be set. If you still feel like revising this, I think the story could benefit a lot from that final scene being extended.

Anyway, I do wanna say that the horror aspect of this was also quite cool, as waking up in a body that's not yours in captivity by strange aliens is pretty terrifying. It's also a little humorous how the middle bit is largely the POV receiving orders that make no sense to him and him going WHAT WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WHERE AM I WHERE IS MY WIFE in response.

I guess I don't really have much else to say? Hope this was worth something. I hope to return soon to read and review Fate's Design. Till then, see you around - and good luck in the contest, of course.
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Hey! Read Fate's Design as part of the review exchange. Here are my thoughts.

Quote Comments

The city was gone. The crater it had been housed in was shattered, one of the walls obliterated by the primordial Sea God's escape. Kyogre itself was gone, but Steven knew where it was heading. Mount Chimney had exploded the day before, wiping out Lavaridge in an explosion that had been clearly visible from the lip of Sootopolis' crater. Groudon was slowly working his way towards the coast, Flannery harassing the God every step of the way. It would never be enough to stop it. The two ancient Gods were fated to meet in battle, humanity be damned.
well i think thats the highest death count ive ever seen in a first paragraph

I have tried, Wallace. I am no draconid.
Shouldn't Draconic be capitalized given it's a people? Or is there some kind of disdain I'm missing?

Drake roared alongside his salamance
*salamence

Wallace opened his mouth, whether to protest or demand that he stay and help Steven, he couldn't tell. Steven reached across the distance between them, touching his friend's hand as Kyogre raised another wave of titanic proportion. Green light shone from Steven's palm, sucking the life from him to fuel the Regis covenant with humanity.
Is this green thingy something from the canon or an original creation? I don't know of anything like that, but I also know very little about the Regis in general.

Also, "Regis" may be missing an apostrophe.

Regirock led with its fists, but Kyogre's ire brought the wrath of the ocean down upon it. Its frozen kin was there, encasing the Ocean God in a frozen casket before it could end the stone Golem. Regirock burst from the ice as its frozen kin sealed the Sea God away, charging towards Groudon at Steven's urging.
"Frozen kin" is used twice in this paragraph, which is kind of weird. Could refer to Regice by name in one of them.

Regirock was there, leaping atop a spear of stone spear aimed at Groudon's heart.
Repeated "spear".

Latios surged forward, a blast of psychic fire carving into the earth God's jaw. A pink bubble streaked through the battlefield as Regirock impaled the earth god with its final act, painting Groudon's throat with psychic fire.
The second sentence makes it sounds like it's Regirock using psychic fire. I'm also not sure if these two psychic fire mentions are talking about the same act or separate ones.

Groudon shrieked as it doubled over the stone spear, white-hot fury rolling off the wounded God in waves.
I guess fury here is talking about lava, but there had been no previous references to lava inside/outside Groudon's body so I wasn't expecting a metaphor and getting one made me pause.

---

General Comments

I think I'm gonna try to keep my points more concise this time than I usually would for a few reasons. First is that I'm personally not a fan of action stories, so there will probably be bias. Second is that I'm also bad at writing action, so I don't have the best trust in my ability to critique it. Third is that I also tend to be pretty bad at reading large-scale action as I often find it hard to keep track of where everyone is to a degree that seems to be more than most readers, so I don't know if my feedback there is super trustworthy either.

I guess I might as well get into that now, though: I had trouble here and there with keeping track of where everyone/everything is and what their current status was - standing, not standing, in water, not in water, where in the water, able to attack or unable to attack, so on. Probably part of what contributed to this was that I don't think it was told anywhere how big Groudon and Kyogre exactly are in this story. I can't really fall back on canon since it seems to be inconsistent there. Here it feels like they're supposed to be pretty huge, but there are still different levels of huge. I just think a height or length estimate of some kind for either of them could have helped in visualization.

I also think that the reader's emotional investment is hindered by the characters' dialogue sounding kind of dry and unnatural. I ignored this to an extent since I know gym leaders can kind of do that in Pokemon, but it became a bigger problem with the revelation of the love between Wallace and Steven. When they were described as being friends, I thought they were friends in a political sense rather than actually being good personal friends since the way they talk to each other doesn't feel casual the way you'd expect dialogue between friends to be. And when it comes to something as intimate as love, it's much more of a clash, and I couldn't get invested in love I couldn't buy.

The last of my critiques would be of the structure since seemed to go between "yes, we're winning this" to "oh no, we're doomed, we can't possibly win" a couple of times. When the Regis failed and Steven said he'd lost and then he continued to fight anyway, I was expecting him to be like "I know I can't stop them but I have to die trying" or something, but as it is, it feels like he just forgets he's not supposed to have a chance anymore.

On a positive note, I do like the absolutely terrifying forces that the legends are in this story. Especially the Titans - even if they're still leagues behind Groudon and Kyogre, they're clearly incredibly powerful and destructive. I feel like what I've seen of them in canon has just been really underwhelming, so this made them feel like they were actually worth the fear and respect they seem to get in-universe.

I think that's about it for what I have to say. As always, if you wanna ask for clarification or contest something, I'm open to discussion, though I'm probably not on my A-game for a while given I'm under the weather at the moment. Either way, see you around.
 

TheWinterComet

Longfic-aholic
Here's my review for the first chapter, Boulder. I note a critique on language, but I probably wouldn't finish in any reasonable time if I did proper line edits.

Opening with an action scene is exciting, but with very little additional context, it leaves me with no strong opinion about the central protagonist. The strongest actual character moment is instead from Curie, since we have a very identifiable character trait which is also used partially for comedy, which has an edge early in a story before characters are established.

The high-paced section at the tail end of the battle counting down the seconds until the end was very enjoyable. I’m always focused on pacing methods, and using physical space as a description of time passage much like how you do in comics. It’s actually strange how rarely I consider the idea of a timer in competitive Pokémon. Weird, especially since most competitive sports run on some kind of timing system, and even competitive Pokémon battles have round timers in real life. I suppose I just normally don’t worry about it much, but it added an extra layer of stakes to the battle, which I appreciate.

This chapter has some frequently repeated words that came to attention. Some examples are “adorable” during Curie’s section, and the word “rock” during the countdown. They were visible enough to temporarily distract me from the narrative.

Since I read the second chapter alongside this one, I can say that this chapter is not what invested me in the story. While it is very representative of the game series, there weren't enough novel storytelling approaches setting it apart from the source material for me, so it wasn’t until the horror-esque tone shift in the second chapter that I was interested in it as a whole. That could be a barrier to other readers with similar thoughts, though it may also be exactly what a select group are looking for, depending on circumstance.
 

TheWinterComet

Longfic-aholic
Here's my review for the second chapter, Wilderness.

I liked Marcus taking gradual steps to attempt to win the Sandshrew over, both because I personally can’t resist attempting (and failing) to make friends with wild animals and because it established a more normalized expectation of failure in the life of a Pokémon trainer. Obviously, them being trapped in the cave after the rockslide also counts as a failure of some kind, but I liked the more low-stakes view on it.

The focus on “novice-level” and explicitly ranking trainers felt very gamified to me, which sometimes made it difficult to connect with. It was mentioned a few times in the previous chapter, but here it does establish an idea of easily quantified experience for both person and Pokémon without any other regard for circumstance, when the setting otherwise seeks to expand on social/mechanic concepts abstracted for players to make the games more accessible (like some competitive battling elements, and a more granular and realistic view of hiking in the wilderness). It felt like a jarring juxtaposition.

The macabre description of Mount Moon’s inner chambers and the description of Clefairy as circumstantially being terrifying were a high point of the chapter. This is something that Pokémon Legends: Arceus did recently that I liked; the series leaning into the idea that Pokémon are fantastical, and by extension, fantastically dangerous, which is sometimes difficult to see from the perspective of people that live in environments dedicated to and in cooperation with Pokémon that cohabitate. This world in general makes it seem like humans and Pokémon are locked in struggle, so obviously that element is more pronounced.

The bit of banter between Marcus and Gemma, and their contrasting attitudes made for a interesting introduction. Knowledgeable and unconcerned/carefree versus unlearned and cautious is a dynamic with great potential.

The stinger at the end was exciting! I’m somewhat of a sucker for “vague and shadowy cutaway scenes” as preludes to bigger events, because unnamed characters carry some easy expectations of intrigue and the mood to match.
 

TheWinterComet

Longfic-aholic
Here's my review for the third chapter, Capture.

The emphasis that Marcus is backwater and not very technologically savvy helps to make him more endearing, especially since I think actual description of his character was fairly light in the past couple of chapters outside of his clear “novice trainer” status.

I’m loving Gemma as a character, both with the experience contrast highlighted in my previous review as well as her high agency, specifically with her setting up the rumor of Marcus’s upcoming battle with Misty. Especially since Marcus had been thrown around and at the whims of nature, seeing a character more in-command and with means is refreshing.

The warning report system is a neat and realistic little worldbuilding element, which I will probably steal if I ever have time in a story to show it.

In the lead-up to the nidoking attack, the swelling dread of the fleeing Rattata and Marcus being alone again was palpable. I thought the suspense there was well-done.

This chapter does have some more instances of repeated words, or sometimes repeated structures, that were distracted. There were some in the second chapter as well that I didn’t note in my previous review. For example, Pokémon like the Nidoking are very often just referred to as “the nidorino”, often multiple times in short sequence, and the lack of any pronouns or other epithets made it repetitive at points. The captured Nidorino did switch between “nidorino” and “nido” at some points, which I think broke it up more effectively.

She shrugged, quietly sipping her drink. "Trainers help others. It's something that we all do," she replied stubbornly. "You just remind me of someone I used to know. He never got a fair shake. He asked me for help, practically begged me for it." She looked at me nervously and tipped back the rest of the drink. "He didn't make it and it was my fault. I didn't do enough." She shrugged, her words slow and slurred. "Like I said, you look like him. Same stupid grin, same farm boy kinda style."

"So that's it," I said. "Righting a past wrong." I looked down at my drink again and felt like an ass for pushing Gemma. "I'm not him," I said. "I'm not whoever you lost. You can't let that loss rule your life." I smirked and put my hand on hers. "For what it's worth, I am grateful for everything you've done for me. You've given more of a crap about my dream than my old man ever did. That alone is more than I could ever repay." I felt my heartbeat quicken and tightened my grip on her hand.
When doing editing, I usually recommend against structures like this, where a bunch of short actions are strung together between dialogue in a paragraph. It gets very difficult to parse quickly, and these two specifically stopped me up.
 

canisaries

you should've known the price of evil
Location
Stovokor
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. inkay-shirlee
  2. houndoom-elliot
  3. yamask-joanna
  4. shuppet
  5. deerling-andre
Hey there! It took a while, but I read the first chapter as per the review exchange, and here are my thoughts.

Quote Comments

Maybe Erika would have been an easier first gym challenge, but I was never a fan of taking the easy route and

The referee's voice

Sentence cuts off?

Sometimes he replaced the geodude with a graveller

*graveler

I nodded, remaining silent. I wasn't giving Brock a damn thing, not false confidence, no boasting bravado. I was a novice, a beginner who hadn't earned a single badge let alone even challenged a gym yet. I hadn't earned any confidence yet.
I smirked, lifting my first ball. I would start strong, and give Brock a taste of what I was made of. I may have been a novice, but I was absolutely not a pushover. It was important to show that, something Pa taught me on the farm. You couldn't let people push you around. I may not have agreed with my Pa about many things, but he had a point about that.

Protag makes a point of not giving Brock any confident gestures, but then a little bit later he smirks, presumably on purpose?

Luna hacked and coughed, a burning ball of eerie blue flame dripping out of her mouth.

oh uhh is your dog okay?

I spotted the opening I had been hoping for. The geodude wobbled slightly and shook the confusion from its eyes. It dug both hands into the ground, tearing loose a slab of rock that had been hidden under the sand. "Another confuse ray!"

Another spinning helix of eerie lights erupted from my vulpix.

Protag says "another" confuse ray, but the previous one was a confuse "wisp". In general, while I like the idea of a combination attack, I didn't really see how the "confuse wisp" differed from the confuse ray, considering burns are never mentioned (if it's a cross with Will O' Wisp) and the ray is describes as being made up of "wisps" in general.

They sank into the geodude's eyes and I smirked knowingly as a simple expression crossed the rock type's face. It's arms wavered and bent as the slab of rock dipped dangerously back towards it.

The "simple expression" here could mean multiple different emotions here, mainly confusion, fear or anger. Also, *its.

But it's dizzied confusion had already taken a toll.

*its

Brock's prized onix appeared with and earthshaking roar. She tossed back her pale green tinted head and screeched a defiant challenge. I knew what to expect. Shale was Brock's pride and joy, bred from the titanic onix that fought on Brock's championship team. She was a pale green, flecks of silver metal running through the boulders that made up her serpentine body. It was a side effect of her parentage, something to do with being the offspring of Brock's first onix and Galar's Raihan's prized duraludon. She would be a monster in a few years, but right now she was just a baby. I was relying on that youth.

Ooh, I like this! I'm always into Pokemon variants and ones by ancestry are a cool sort.

Brock couldn't help the burst of laughter that came forth. His rock snake mirrored him, shaking the entire arena with deep rumbling laughter.

Pokemon can laugh?

Now, Curie might not be a violent soul but she can stall a battle somewhat effectively if she's coaxed into it the right way. She was a baby.

Tense slips into present for a bit before going back to past.

"Curie! Hide and seek!" I shouted, hoping desperately that she would forget the little round stone she had dropped and stop wailing long enough to hear me.

I had no such luck. She just wailed harder, mourning her lost rock with all the fury of a confused infant. With a satisfied grin, I lifted her ball off my belt and returned my happiny to her ball. I couldn't be more proud of my baby girl. She had done her job. She'd get her chance to shine in battle eventually, but for now she was the best damn stalling tactic a guy could have asked for.

The mood kinda changes out of nowhere here - first protag is "hoping desperately" but when it doesn't work he returns Curie "with a satisfied grin" and remarks on how proud he is. It felt like he needed that thing to work, but then it turns out he didn't and it's alright that it didn't.

That had been the crux of my whole strategy. Neither Curie nor Luna had anywhere near the strength to bring down Shale. Our only hope at victory was a wing and a prayer, stuffed with one hell of a bullshit technicality. If I could outlast Brock, run the clock out without Luna going down, then I would win the match. I still had two conscious pokemon to Brock's one. I would win by virtue of outlasting a titanic onix that I couldn't even scratch.

It was not mentioned anywhere prior that the battle was timed, so I assumed it wasn't until now. I think it should be mentioned at the beginning that there is a timer since I doubt people are going to assume it's there by default. I know the anime has battle timers somewhere, but I feel like they were only in tournaments and not in gym battles? I could be wrong, but that's also another reason why it'd be better to establish the timer existing - not every reader is going to be that well acquainted with the anime.

It wouldn't do much, but there was a chance it would show Shale down.

*slow?

It was a gambit, banking on Shale moving to quickly to turn easily.

*too

One second left and Luna was out of space. There was nowhere to go. Shale was raising herself to her full height. My precious starter would be nothing more than a smear of blood and hair.

The horn blared and I exhaled the breath that I hadn't realized I was holding.

I like the slow-down of the prose and counting down the seconds, but I think it goes against the protag thinking the vulpix is doomed. He sounds like he's not realizing the battle is just about to end, but he has to specifically be thinking about it in order to point it out.

I think there are two better ways to execute this sequence: first would be keeping the countdown and having the protag wonder whether or not the timer will run out just in time, and the second would be him not counting these last seconds because he's too caught up with what's going on in the battlefield, which would make the timer running out a surprise to him.

I unclenched my fists, realizing that my nails had been digging into my palms so tightly that they drew blood.

ew trim your nails

I didn't hear the small smattering of cheers from the stands. I didn't hear the referee continue to drone on about my victory.

The beginning of the chapter established hard that no one was watching the battle?

---

General Comments

Okay, so, some of my opinions have changed since I gained more context about this story and its world, but the changes are minor and I still believe in the gist of my points, so I'll give the points predominantly from the perspective I had when first reading this. It is, after all, from the position that a lot of readers are likely to be in, which is knowing little to nothing about the story beyond the author's notes and the chapters read.

The most important point I have is that the protagonist is not likable to me and I don't care if he wins or not. The latter point is actually the one that came first. The protagonist's motivation for winning this battle is to continue being a Pokemon trainer, which he seems to want to do to not have a regular life in his little village. This could be a good motivation if it was framed right, like having to see the same sights every day and feeling trapped and miserable, but the protagonist says that he'll end up marrying some local girl, which he implies is boring and not special. Considering there are thousands of people that feel miserable every day for not being able to find or get a romantic companion, this feels entitled as well as an asshole thing to think about these women.

Now, there's the possibility that you're not going for a likable protagonist. While that's risky, it's valid in terms of storytelling, but then there's the matter of how he battles and how he views his or other people's pokemon.

So upon my first read, I already understood that this world had to be darker than the games or the anime (and I knew you'd been saying the story was dark, though I didn't know if it applied to the world or just the events of the story). Pokemon bleed and get hurt in battles and it seems they can even die.

However, even considering that, the protagonist seems to be using tactics that are morally worse than his opponent's. He attempts to bury a pokemon alive to force it to be recalled, and he sends an actual infant into battle. He also never seems to have a real connection with his pokemon but treat them more closely to how we treat our pokemon in our games, knowing they're not real. He sees his pokemon as prized possessions rather than real sentient beings, and it's really, really hard to connect with someone that treats smart animals in that way, no matter whether it's common practice in the world or not.

And given that all this is so that he doesn't have to have a slightly dissatisfied life… I just can't get behind this guy.

If his life back home was actually terrible, such as if his parents were clearly abusive, and he really had no other way to get out than battling, I could see him being worth rooting for, as long as we know that his abuse of pokemon is a product of his culture and not a conscious choice. While I will personally never like stories where pokemon battling is dogfighting and socially acceptable in a modern setting (a bias of mine I should inform you of, which I'm doing right now), I know that narratively that presents an opportunity to make an non-likable character still be rooted for - if the world is worse than the main character, he can have moral superiority on some grounds, and we generally want the moral party to win. Here, though, we only see one other character, who isn't really a moral paragon either but commits fewer heinous acts and therefore kind of wins by default.

But that's enough about my problems with the story - I wanna move on to more positive stuff. I think the choice to begin with a battle is a good one with a story where the battles have differences to the canon or follow one canon more closely than the other. It's been years since I watched the anime, let alone any episode with a gym battle, but I do remember that the terrain was important on a couple of occasions. This makes for much more creative and clever battles than just two pokemon fighting in a void, and I trust that you have plenty more where this came from considering you've mentioned it's a battle-heavy fic (not that it would have been hard to guess either way). If I had friends looking for fics with battles (who were okay with darker settings), I'd probably mention this one. This clearly isn't my kind of story, but having read a few of your other works by now, I don't doubt that this keeps up the quality.

Alright, that's it for my thoughts. It's unfortunate that this ended up being a story I wouldn't want to continue with, but I hope the feedback I've given can be helpful. Thanks again for agreeing to this review exchange, and see you around!
 
What We Do For Our Children

Joshthewriter

Charizard Fan
Location
Toronto
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. charizard
CW: Mentions of child abuse and manipulation. Depictions and mentions of torture. Blood, violence and death (human and pokemon) abound.


Is it better to do something because it is right, or because it benefits you?


"He's waiting in the other room," Matori said with a curt nod. "He seemed agitated." His secretary pushed back from the desk and rose to her feet, walking over towards the doors to the conference room.

Giovanni drew himself up to his full height and followed her. It would not do for the Champion to see him with shoulders sagging and exhaustion dogging his steps. He had only just arrived back in Viridian, finally returned after chasing down another lead on Mewtwo that went nowhere. At least this time, he had something that might be useful.

"Lance usually is," he replied. "He seldom graces us with his presence because something good has happened." He crossed the foyer with Matori, hand diving into his suit and removing the small artefact within. "Perhaps this will lighten his mood."

"Is that going to help us?" she asked, gesturing at the small stone tablet in his hand.

Giovanni looked back at her. Matori had been at his side since before he had even begun working with Lance when they had founded Rocket and taken up positions within the Indigo League. She was perhaps the most loyal among his organization, though there were many who might dispute that.

He smiled softly at his old friend. "I certainly hope so, Matori. It required a significant amount of effort to obtain." He gestured towards the doors. "If you would be so kind."

Matori blushed slightly and pulled the doors open for the boss. The Champion was waiting. He was tall, almost the same height as Giovanni. But he cut an imposing, powerful figure with the long flowing cape hanging from his shoulders.

"You're late," Lance said coldly. "I thought we agreed that wouldn't happen."

Giovanni waved off his concern as the doors shut behind him. He may have trusted Matori implicitly, but only three people in the world were permitted to have the knowledge he was about to impart. Lance and he were two thirds of that trio, with the third recently retired from League activity. "I was delayed. More of the Professor's work, if I understand. He interfered yet again."

Lance frowned. "What were you doing getting involved with him? You were explicitly ordered to remain out of contact and out of his way."

"I was doing what you asked. Our other objectives superseded your order," Giovanni replied, leaving a bitter tone on the final word. He often allowed Lance the illusion of control, but he would not tolerate direct authority over himself. He lifted the small stone tablet, handing it over. "You asked for a solution, so I found one for you."

Lance took the small, worn stone tablet. "Is it safe to be handling it like this?" he asked. "This looks ancient."

"I have the relevant information copied to my archives. I thought you would prefer the real thing to a photograph." He cocked his head slightly to the side. "I know how you adore relics." Giovanni grabbed one of the remotes from the table and turned on the screen hung on the opposite wall. "I've already begun analyzing it and I think this may point to a potential countermeasure, one that could make Mewtwo's creation irrelevant."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "I thought that abomination was supposed to make all other legends irrelevant," he said, condescension creeping into his voice.

The screen lit up as Giovanni fell silent, a blown up image of the tablet appearing on screen. A strange creature, obscured by smoke, was portrayed behind a series of rings. Ominous glyphs were leaking through the rings, reliefs of deities peering from behind the glyphs. Three mythical deities lay before the rings, all of them battered and broken in defeat.

"What am I looking at?" Lance asked. He turned to Giovanni, an eyebrow raised. "It seems as if you bring me unsubstantiated myth and call it salvation."

Giovanni shrugged. "Our foes are myths themselves. With the gods of the natural world stirring and devastation creeping closer, we can no longer wait for decade long plans to bear fruit. We need a countermeasure now. Perhaps one can be found among our foes?"

Lance looked up at the screen again. "And what is this countermeasure called?"

Giovanni grinned. He knew he had Lance now. The moment he was asked to elaborate, he knew he had hooked the Champion. "Hoopa," he said. "A creature sealed away by ancient Kalosians. It is said to have been capable of summoning a worthy opponent for any foe."

Lance scowled, a dour expression worn on his face. Giovanni had not seen so much as a single smile on his face since Lance had replaced old Samuel Oak the year prior on the Champion's throne. The burden seemed to be crushing the new Champion, leaving a man whose cape hid sagging shoulders and a limping gait. It was one of the reasons Giovanni had put forward Lance's claim to the Champion's throne rather than pursue his own. "This is hardly something we can use. How would we even deign to control such a creature?"

He waved off the concern again. "We have twisted science to our purposes before. It should be no small matter to do so again."

"It would not be, had you not failed quite so spectacularly." Lance folded his arms across his chest. "You lost yourself the assistance of Indigo's finest minds after Mewtwo's escape. To a man, they have all refused any further contact with you." Lance smirked and Giovanni had to discard his mental image of a tired and broken Champion. "You have painted us into a corner with your arrogance."

Giovanni sighed, feigning boredom. He knew the way down to Lance's core. He knew how to bring the Champion to his heel. "Is there anything else? Or should I begin?"

Lance sighed heavily. He turned, swishing the cape with him. "Get me results, Giovanni. I've heard rumblings from Hoenn and there have been yet more sightings of Lugia in the Orange Islands. Gods stir and yet we are no closer to reigning in your last mistake." He glanced back over his shoulder. "You have a month. Give me something we can use. Before your mistakes consume us all."

Giovanni did not speak as the Champion departed. He simply watched the man go, wondering if perhaps he should have been the one to challenge Oak and sit atop the throne himself. The doors closed behind Lance and Giovanni let himself sink slowly into his chair.

Matori entered the room, cracking open the door quietly. "Sir?" she asked carefully. "Shall I call for Archer?"

He looked up at her, exhaustion no longer hidden for Lance's sake. "No thank you, Matori," he said in a ragged tone. "I think for now, I would like to rest for a moment. I do not have the patience to deal with Archer for the moment."

She bowed deeply. "Yes, boss."

Matori departed the room, leaving the crime lord alone. He leaned back in the chair and sighed heavily. It was going to be a very long and busy month.


The phone on his desk beeped twice. Giovanni reached over and tapped the blinking button.

"Silver has arrived," Matori's voice said.

Giovanni glanced up at the doors. His son was here. His first and only child, a monument to all his sins. "Send him in," he said curtly.

The doors opened half a moment later. His son strode in, crimson red hair hanging down over his sullen face. The red glow of the boy's mechanical eye was half obscured by his hair, but there was no mistaking the glint of metal covering half his face.

He moved with purpose, an uneven gait betraying the injury that had sparked his transformation. Despite all of Rocket's achievements, he still walked with a limp, the remnants of his human body struggling to keep up with the cybernetic enhancements Giovanni had made.

The boy sat, regarding Giovanni coldly. It was nothing outside of the usual. Silver loathed Giovanni and the boy's father loathed what he had done to him. "I take it that you have something more important for me than babysitting some scientist?"

"I do," Giovanni replied. He pressed the button on his remote, turning on the screen to the tablet he had recovered. "Asset retrieval."

Silver looked up at the screen and Giovanni saw his mother's likeness for a brief moment. It was gone in a flash, replaced by the cold cybernetics that Silver had been implanted with. Giovanni pushed the disgust away as he dropped the dossier in front of Rocket's soldier. He did not like showing Silver he was disgusted by him. The boy was one of Rocket's best, he was allowed to have his father's pride.

"What's the target?" the boy asked. He thumbed through the dossier, not sparing a glance up at his father.

"A Kalosian artefact," Giovanni began, clicking through to the picture of the particular estate. "Currently in the possession of a noble family from the Kalosian Rivière." He glanced back at the boy as he placed the remote back on the table. "I'm sure they won't be a problem for someone of your particular skills."

Silver was quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning the briefing that Giovanni had pushed towards him. He shut the folder and sighed in annoyance. "Is that all?" he asked, his steely grey eye flashing back up toward his father. The red one hadn't moved, remaining solely fixed on Giovanni since he had entered the room.

Giovanni felt the pang in his chest, the utter disgust with what he had allowed Ariana had turned their son into. "That is all," he said, allowing the moment to pass. He could not allow himself to feel guilt, not allow compassion to weaken his resolve. He needed Silver as he was, even if it cut him to his soul to see it. He needed a soldier and his son was the best. "You will find yourself a new assignment if you succeed."

The boy looked back up at him. Giovanni saw the hatred there. While it hurt him to see, the hatred gave the boy strength. Strength that he could use. Strength that made him perfect for the job. "It will be done, father." He rose, lifting the dossier that Giovanni had pushed towards him. "What is the timeline?"

"I need the artefact within the week. Your travel has already been arranged and a drop point set up for you to hand off the artefact in Lumiose."

Silver nodded again and turned away. He strode from the room without a further word, leaving Giovanni alone with the guilt of failed fatherhood.


Giovanni stood in his usual place by the window. A week had passed and Silver had not returned. It was not in Giovanni's nature to worry, but he could not help the gnawing pit of fear growing in his stomach. Not for his son, he had buried any of those feelings back when he had departed down this path and allowed Ariana to remake the boy for war, but for the potential catastrophe that Lance would rain down on him if Silver was discovered.

Matori burst into the room, blustering at the imposing man behind her. Lance ignored her entirely and set his eyes on the reason he had come. He threw back his cape and placed an intricate porcelain jar on Giovanni's desk. Gold rings wrapped around the base, winding their way through the hole in the centre of the bottle.

"Lance," Giovanni said quietly. He could see plainly enough what had happened. His fears had come to pass. It just remained to see how much he had lost. "I can explai-"

"No," said the Champion. "allow me to explain." He stepped away, turning to look out at the city and ignoring Matori's concerned squeak.

Giovanni dismissed his secretary with a wave. As much as he trusted her, she did not need to hear this admonishment. "I sen-"

"You openly moved against a member of a foreign League," he said, cutting off Giovanni's protest before it began. "You sent your pet assassin, a boy who should be your son, to kill members of a foreign state nobility and steal a very sacred artefact from their vault."

Giovanni frowned. He needed a way out, a way to turn off of what had happened. Silver was gone and he could not stand to dwell on that for the time being. He had to move forward.

"You did give me a month to get results. I needed the artefact and the boy was my best chance of obtaining it."

Lance simply stared at him, studying his visage for any cracks. He shook his head slowly and turned back to look at the city. "He is alive, you'll be happy to know."

Giovanni let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding and sighed in relief. He paused for a moment as the stunned revelation that Silver was still alive sank in. His chest tightened when he realized what that entailed.

Lance turned to look at him. "So you do care for him? I had gotten the sense that there was no love among your family."

There was silence between them for a long moment. Lance was right. He did care, despite everything that he had put the boy through. Whether by love or a sense of investment, Giovanni refused to answer.

Giovanni turned at last, sensing that Lance was determined to make it difficult for him. "Is he alright?"

"He is alive," Lance repeated. "That is all I can say. The Kalosians captured him three days ago, after he handed off the artefact to one of your associates. I picked up the associate upon his return to Kanto." He folded his arms across his chest. "They are unable to discern his identity, but Grand Duchess Diantha has taken a personal interest in the theft."

Giovanni walked back to his desk, sitting heavily in his chair. He eyed the strange bottle and felt the tension hanging in the air. "Does she suspect Indigo's involvement?"

Lance turned back away, leaving his back to Giovanni. "Not at the moment, but she is on the scent. It is but a matter of time until she knows who stole from her."

"What are our options?" Giovanni asked quickly. He paused as he realized the image he had just portrayed for Lance.

"Options?" Lance scoffed, seizing upon the opening to admonish his equal. "What options? For rescue?" He shook his head and Giovanni swore that he could have seen the hint of a satisfied smirk on his face. "The Kalosians have him now. Pray that they kill him quickly, else he will spend an eternity on the edge of death. They will know who stole from him with time, and there will be hell to pay for it."

Giovanni looked down at his desk. He did not know whether to cry or rage or sit in silence. So he did none of them. "At least we have the artefact," he said in a sullen tone. "It is of utmost importance. We must use it."

"What is it?" Lance asked. "Since you did spend your son's life on it."

Giovanni reached out, lifting the sealed bottle and regarding it with something close to disgust. It had cost him his son. It was not something that he had expected to affect him so deeply, but he could not afford the sentiment. He had a mission and he could not afford distraction. Silver's capture and torture was a distraction of the highest magnitude.

"The prison bottle. A seal, containing a strange and wondrous creature with a strange and wondrous power." He placed it down on the table, unable to meet Lance's gaze as he pondered Silver's fate.

"You have claimed to be capable of controlling such a creature before," Lance replied. He shook his head. "I have doubts that you claim to be capable of such a thing once more."

The crime lord narrowed his eyes, his tone icing over. "Mewtwo was different. It was created to be the most powerful pokemon in existence. We succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. Hoopa is no such creature."

Lance scowled. "Then how do you expect it to defeat Mewtwo?"

"As I have previously mentioned," Giovanni began with a coy grin, "it has the ability to summon a worthy foe for anything. That may be our salvation, given that Mewtwo is a part of everything." He lifted the prison bottle, admiring the golden rings wrapping around the vessel. "I will require material for my tests. Rocket can source most of it, but some of it may be in League possession."

"The League can provide what is needed," Lance said. "No need to raid our own facilities."

"I'll have Matori send over a list."

Lance nodded and departed in silence, his irritation clear as day in his expression. Giovanni had given him failure after failure ever since Mewtwo's escape. Their entire grand plan to lead humanity into the future was at risk now, and there was nobody left to blame except for him.

Giovanni placed the vessel down on his desk. He looked away and stared out the window. Viridian sat on the edge of the vast forest, stretching off into the distance in the north and west. The Argent mountains were vaguely hidden in the distance, Indigo Plateau laying somewhere among the eastern peaks.

"Giovanni?" Matori's meek, quiet voice asked. "I heard what the Champion said about Silver. Are you alright?"

He stared blankly out at the throne of a man he thought to have once been his friend. A man who condemned his son to almost certain death. "No, Matori. I am not."

He scowled and looked down at his feet. The Champion would not like open defiance. But it would not be the first time he had done something without his approval. It would not be the last time either, if he had his way. He could not afford a distraction and this was nothing if not a blinking sign pointed at his failures.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

Giovanni scowled. "Something foolish," he started as his mind looked for a way out of the mess, "maybe something brave."

Matori smiled weakly as her boss turned his attention back to the city. He had been called many things. A monster, a villain, an egotistical maniac. One thing she had never heard him called, was a father. It was heartening to see.

"Is there anything I can do?" Matori asked.

Giovanni shook his head. "No," he replied. His chest ached and his head was pounding but he needed to move forward. "I'm the only one who can solve this."

He closed the blinds and shut out the city. The crime lord turned, picking up the prison bottle and heading towards the door. "If Lance comes calling, tell him I'm out."

Matori nodded, trying not to show the blush in her cheeks. "Yes, boss."


The device sat at the bottom of the bunker, secluded behind a half dozen blast doors and guarded by a pair of Rocket's finest agents, among a garrison of twenty five men. Nobody would be able to reach it without approval from Giovanni himself. Including Lance.

One week had passed since Lance had left Viridian. A week and a half since his son had fallen into the hands of the Kalosians. Giovanni knew the boy was strong, but Kalos was not kind to foreign agents. Rocket could not afford any information breaches, especially from someone as knowledgeable as Silver.

He privately agonized over his son's imprisonment, but with Kalos locking down and Lance keeping tabs on his movement he had very few paths forward. Hoopa would be his son's salvation. It had to be, or Giovanni had thrown his son's life away over an old folk tale. And that was not something he could tolerate.

Archer approached him from the hallway behind him, white suit as immaculate as always. His teal blue hair was cropped close to his head and the effortless shadow of stubble darkened his face. Giovanni scowled at the thought of the lengths Archer went to care for his appearance.

"The device is complete. The dark balls are ready as well. Hoopa's ability will be yours in short order," he said calmly. "Though, that scientist, Gideon, is irritating to say the least." He glanced through the viewing deck at the wiry man still fiddling with the controls. "He wants to speak with you about more potential projects."

Giovanni followed his gaze, eyes boring into the man from above. He was outwardly unimpressive, but Giovanni had long since disregarded appearances. They could deceive anyone, even him if he was not careful. "Are they promising?"

Archer shook his head. "They're mad," he replied. "Even compared to this venture, even compared to Mewtwo. He speaks of creating a new god, of using the old to create something new." He glanced back over at Giovanni. "His work is madness. Do not allow yourself to walk that path."

"Should I bother speaking with him?"

Archer shook his head again. "Not unless you wish to give him confidence in his schemes. Our experiments were based on science and desperation. His are not." He glared back down at the man. "They are well and truly mad ventures."

The scientist turned away from the machine as Giovanni glanced down at him, looking up at the two Rocket executives. "Alright!" Gideon shouted. "The machine should be ready to contain whatever is inside that vessel." He pulled down his safety goggles and stepped behind the blast wall that was rising into place. "Ready for containment!"

The scientist raised his hand and pulled the oversized lever on the wall. A platform rose into place, a trio of triangular metal constructs lowering into place around it. They began to hum and vibrate in sync, the static whine of electricity filling the air.

"Barrier is active, shield strength holding steady!" shouted the scientist. "Ready for release!"

Giovanni peered down at the platform, staring intently at the Prison Bottle. He watched closely as a set of robotic arms emerged from the platform the Bottle sat upon and gripped the top of the bottle. With a smooth, practiced motion, they removed the stopper and unleashed the storm within.

Smoke billowed out from the bottle, pressing up against the barrier and testing its defences. Shadowy tendrils of black smoke writhed free of the bottle as an indistinct form began to take shape within the smoke.

Archer leaned forward, staring intently at the figure. "Mad science," he started, his tone low and cautious. "In the flesh."

Two heavy legs thudded onto the platform as the smoke began to dissipate. It was tall, likely close to seven meters in height as it stretched its legs. Six disembodied arms floated beside the creature's torso, a trio of rings wrapping each arm. Thick, deep maroon fur covered most of its torso, only a golden ring embedded in pale purple skin on its chest peering through. The fur continued up the creature's neck and around its head, pulled back into a long trailing ponytail by a pair of golden rings.

"Now," ordered Giovanni. They had little time before the creature acclimated itself and attempted to get free of the prison they had constructed.

Archer pressed a button on the control panel in front of him. The wall opposite the observation platform slid open, ominous darkness held within. There was a brief moment as the creature turned towards the movement, regarding it with curiosity. Then a wall of blinking red lights lit the darkness.

The dark balls were one of Giovanni's greatest creations. They were powerful, even more powerful than the greatest ultra balls. They completely subverted the captured pokemon's mind and controlled their actions while amping the base power of the captured pokemon. Only one ball had ever been theorized to be more powerful, and it was still barely even out of the prototype stages.

Giovanni had stockpiled dozens of these Dark Balls for a moment precisely like this. He had long dreamed of capturing one of the gods of the natural world and twisting it to his will. He had failed in creating his own, but this perversion would work. It had to, else Silver would rot in a Kalosian prison.

The Dark Balls streamed out of the compartment, all of them flying directly for the captured pokemon. It raised its arms, but there was no time to react. A ball struck it in the chest, sucking it into nothingness before it could defend itself.

"It seems that your plan was a success," Archer said. "Perhaps-"

The ball burst open, a golden ring springing into place as the creature escaped from the first ball. Another trio of the floating dark balls shot down towards it, but a deafening roar shook the bunker. A spear of stone smashed the balls against the ceiling as the monstrous tyranitar rose out of the ring.

Giovanni leaned forward, gently pressing the intercom as if he was unconcerned. "Vicious, if you would be so kind. Our guest has called for some help."

A metallic red blur buzzed across the room as the few scientists behind the blast wall ran for their lives. The tyranitar turned to face it, just as Vicious' scizor carved a metal claw across its chest. The cruel behemoth of a man stepped into view, his houndoom padding protectively in front of his master.

The caged creature turned to face the Vicious, trying to draw up another ring. Another dark ball slammed into it from behind, sucking it away before it could summon another combatant. The first ring disappeared beneath the tyranitar and cut off the spear of stone at the base. It smashed heavily against the floor with a deafening crash.

The tyranitar bellowed in anger again, shaking the very foundation of the secured bunker with its wrath. It reached out for Vicious' scizor, summoning a storm of stones that ripped loose from the ceiling, but another dark ball struck it on the shoulder. The levitating stones crashed to the floor, the beast controlling them no longer present.

Silence fell on the lab. Nobody dared to move or speak while the dark balls whirled overhead and waited for a new quarry. Only when the two occupied dark balls rose off the floor and beeped for a successful capture did the tension fall away.

"You were saying?" Giovanni asked, turning and eyeing Archer with an amused smirk. The other Rocket executive had stepped away from the viewport and hidden behind one of the concrete pillars. "I think you called this a success?"

Archer shot back a relieved glance. His expression was calm, but his rapid breaths and sweat beading on his forehead betrayed Archer's fear. "The beast was captured, was it not?" He approached the viewport, cautiously watching for any movement. None came.

"Both of them," Giovanni replied, joining his subordinate. "Perhaps this creature can be of great use to us."

"You could build an army if you can control its power." Archer leaned against the viewport. "You would command the most powerful force in the world. Even Lance would not stand before you, not with an army created by that thing."

He leaned forward, looking down at the Rocket agent picking his way through the stones. It had long bothered him that Lance saw himself above Giovanni and Rocket, but that view had faded with time. Giovanni knew the truth. Giovanni knew where his future lie.

"Lance is our ally for the time being," he said quietly. "Perhaps there was a time where I would have leapt at the opportunity to usurp his throne for myself. But now?"

He paused as several men approached the containment device to assess the damage. The wiry scientist that Archer had been annoyed with simply looked at the occupied dark balls with awe.

"After everything that has happened, every failure and misstep, I understand the true limitations of the Champion's burden." He turned to look at Archer. "Lance is a public figure, beset from all sides by potential claimants and usurpers. Better to stay in the shadows, pull the strings of civilization from afar."

He smirked knowingly, thinking about the Rocket's true plans for Indigo, about the boys destined to dethrone the dragon master. "We have true champions on the way. It is simply our job to clear the road for one of them. We must be prepared for that road to include Lance."

Giovanni pressed the intercom button again, turning away from Archer as the other executive contemplated his words. "Vicious, bring me the balls. I have some tests to be done."

He couldn't help the almost giddy smile spreading across his face. Finally, after so many partial failures and crushing setbacks, something had gone right. Perhaps Silver could be saved after all.


The door ground shut behind them, sealing them in entirely. The room was a concrete box. There was no way in or out, not unless he gave the explicit order. Vicious stood across from him, holding a dark ball in each hand.

He gingerly touched the lump on the back of his head, feeling for the surgically implanted control chip for the dark balls. He normally wasn't the kind to get personally involved in his projects, but necessity and his son's capture had forced his hand.

"Prepare for anything," Giovanni said warily. "We don't know how well the mental influence took."

Vicious nodded, gritting his teeth beneath the iron mask. "Are we expecting it to fail?" he asked. "They've never done so before."

Giovanni looked up at him. "And we have never tested one on a pokemon as powerful as this." He stepped back, a pair of pokeballs at the ready. "Just be ready for anything, Vicious."

He nodded and the muscle bound monster of a man tapped the button on the first ball. The tyranitar materialized in a flash of red light, standing solemnly between them. It did not move, nor make any aggressive gestures.

The intercom blared once. "Transferring control to operative."

The towering tyranitar blinked dumbly and looked down at the two. It stared at them with that same blank look that was common to all pokemon corrupted by the dark ball.

"I have him," Vicious said. "He's a strong one. Should be a fine addition to my team." The iron masked man turned to look at Giovanni. "He is mine, isn't he?"

Giovanni nodded. "He is," he replied. "For services rendered to the cause." He gestured to the other ball with a flash of anticipation in his eyes. "Now, the real prize."

Vicious nodded and tapped the second ball.

Hoopa appeared, smaller than the towering tyranitar but no less imposing. There was a malevolence to its figure, a shadowy aura that hung in its presence. It was dangerous. It was perfect.

"Give me control," Giovanni said, closing his eyes in preparation for the transfer. He had experienced basic control of a pokemon before, but nothing on this level. Hoopa was far more powerful than any of their previous test subjects.

"Transferring control," said the intercom.

He felt the control chip activate, felt the neural interface receiving the signal and felt Hoopa's pliant mind connect with his own. It was an ingenious invention, one that Blaine Katsura had likely not intended for such a use. Nevertheless, Giovanni had co-opted it like he had with so many other of Kanto's top minds' greatest creations.

"I have him," Giovanni said. He opened his eyes, meeting Hoopa's yellow pupils.

Hoopa looked back at him blankly. He felt nothing through the link, nothing but his own will permeating the creature's mind. He had expected some resistance, but Hoopa did not seem interested in fighting against Giovanni's control.

He nodded. They had tests to conduct and limits to learn, and hardly any time to do so if he was to rescue his son before Lance expected his report. Giovanni turned, ready to begin the test. "Alright," he said. "Let's begin."


Archer stared at the screen with bleary red eyes. His stubble had grown into a scraggly and patchy beard and the black of his hair was starting to show at the roots. The last week or so had been a taxing one and Giovanni silently was amused by the degradation of Archer's carefully manicured appearance.

"So, we've ascertained exactly what Hoopa's particular ability is." He shook his head, rubbing his temples. "Unfortunately I am no scientist and I can hardly understand it at this point, so Gideon will explain."

Giovanni turned to the wiry man that had been working on the containment device. "Gideon, I presume?" he asked. "I've heard great things about your work."

He saw a glint of pride in the scientist's eye as the wiry man rose to his feet. Archer rolled his eyes and turned away, something that did not escape Giovanni's notice.

Gideon, for his part, either didn't notice or ignored Archer's disrespect. He launched into his explanation without even glancing at the other Rocket executive. "Hoopa's rings are a true marvel. They create instantaneous connections between two points in space-time and bridge the gap in a way that allows living beings to pass through unharmed."

Giovanni raised an eyebrow. "That sounds particularly useful."

"Useful?" Gideon said incredulously. "If it could be replicated, such an ability would revolutionize transportation. Teleport pads are limited in their utility, requiring a pad on both ends of the transit. With this, you could plant entire armies exactly where you want them, whenever you want!"

Giovanni remained silent, noting Gideon's enthusiasm. The scientist was giddy with possibility, something that Giovanni had long since grown used to. People had a tendency to play up the capability of their projects to him, hoping to curry favour with Rocket's head. It was something of a skill of his to cut through the exaggeration and find the true usefulness in each project.

Gideon continued, unperturbed by Giovanni's indifference. "Hoopa uses these bridges to drag powerful entities into battle for it. Travel through the ring seems to place pokemon under Hoopa's influence, allowing you to command them as you might command Hoopa itself." The scientist continued, ignoring Archer's slight.

Giovanni nodded. "Then it shall serve us well," he said. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face.

"There is more," Gideon said, visibly shifting with discomfort. "It should not be possible, but perhaps impossibility can be massaged…"

The crime lord raised an eyebrow. Archer had mentioned Gideon's penchant for mad science, but he had yet to experience it for himself. "I have massaged science to suit my needs in the past," he said calmly, giving Gideon a chance to present the idea. "What did you discover?"

Gideon's nervous smile spread into a wide grin. "I discovered where Hoopa's rings lead through." He lifted a heavy folder of loose graphs and figures. To an untrained eye it would look like madness, but Giovanni saw the potential in the madness. "And it isn't anywhere in this dimension."

Giovanni lifted the folder, flipping through it as he eyed the data presented to him. "Is it dangerous?" he asked.

The wiry young scientist shook his head. "No. I noticed it when you were having me assess whether we could safely use its rings for transportation." He sifted through the papers he had spread out, lifting a radiation report. "And I noticed that it was leaking background radiation."

"That can be dangerous," Giovanni replied.

Gideon shook his head. "Not at these levels. This is background radiation, present and measurable at almost any point in the known universe." He lifted a pair of charts, with wildly different lines and fluctuations. "And I found something rather interesting when I matched it up against the signature coming out of those rings."

Giovanni looked back up at him. "What am I looking at?"

Gideon pushed another stack of papers towards him, all with wildly different signatures scrawled across them. "You're looking at the background radiation signature of at least seven different variations, none of them matching our known signature. While two are particularly similar, they are still different in minute ways."

The scientist went silent for a moment, allowing his implication to sink in. Giovanni looked up as realization dawned on him. "Those signatures," he started slowly. "They're from other universes, other dimensions like our own, aren't they?"

Gideon smirked with satisfaction. "And I didn't even have to ask if you were familiar with the many-worlds hypothesis!"

Giovanni went silent, lost in thought as he contemplated the possibilities. Hoopa had been theorized to possess capability to manipulate reality by some Kalosian scholars, but nothing had been concrete. Nothing until this.

He looked up at Gideon, tearing his attention away from the charts. "I assume you'd like to test this theory, yes?"

"Yes," he replied with a nod.

"Then I suppose there's only one way to do so," Giovanni continued.

Gideon cracked into a wide, toothy grin. "Open a ring and see what's inside!"


"Many-worlds theory, initial probe test," the mechanical voice echoed across the same room that they had tested Hoopa in initially.

Giovanni stood beside the hastily fabricated probe, watching Gideon secure the camera within the vacuum sealed protective casing. It was little more than a collection of scientific instruments strapped to a repurposed robotic rover, but crude science was better than nothing and he had very little time.

"Will it hold?" he asked.

Gideon pointed up at the radio antenna bolted to the side of the probe. "I'd be more worried about that thing. We don't know if it will be able to function at all, let alone send readable data back." Gideon stepped away, the probe finally ready.

Giovanni lifted the dark ball from his belt. "I guess we do this the old fashioned way."

He tapped the ball, feeling Hoopa's mind responding to his as the creature took shape. Giovanni closed his eyes, feeling the thrum of power ready through the creature.

"Hoopa," he began. "Open a ring gate, connecting to the other end of this room."

The creature raised an arm, conjuring a golden ring beside the probe. A second ring appeared on the opposite end of the room.

Gideon grinned stupidly. "To history!" he said with barely contained glee.

Giovanni nodded and lifted the probe's remote. He inputted the command and watched eagerly as the probe inched across the threshold of the ring.

There was no grand moment of discovery. No huge swell of emotion or cheer from the experiment's observers. Even Gideon was silent as they watched the camera feed waver and crackle, but remain steady.

It was stunning. Giovanni stared at the distorted and crackling image and knew that their initial theories had been right. The multiverse existed and was real, and Hoopa was capable of traversing it.

Giovanni looked over at Archer, knowing that they were on the verge of something greater than Mewtwo ever could be. "This base once housed Kanto's doomed space program, did it not?"

Archer raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he replied. "However, I fail to see-"

"Do we have any more of the prototype explorer suits left?"

Archer's expression shifted to one of excitement as he realized what Giovanni intended. "Most of them were shipped off to Hoenn after the Devon Corporation bought the design," he started. "But we still have two left."

Giovanni grinned at the prospect of exploring an uncharted new frontier, Silver's predicament momentarily forgotten. "Dust them off," he ordered. "We have some exploring to do."


"Remember, you only have about an hour's worth of oxygen." Archer lifted Giovanni's dome helmet and placed it carefully into place. "So once you're satisfied with yourself, get yourself back through the ring. We don't need you getting lost in there. Hell, we don't even know where 'there' is."

Giovanni smirked. "Act like you wouldn't like that," he replied. "Then you could have complete control of Rocket, just like you always wanted."

Archer stepped back, looking over the space suit in a final check. Vicious stood behind him, already suited and ready. "While I make my ambition to forge Indigo into something new, I am aware that without you at its head, Rocket would not be what it is." He smiled and nodded affirmatively. "I would be Lance's puppet, or even worse, lost in the quagmire of debt that you pulled my life from. I owe my existence to you, and that has earned my undying loyalty." He gestured over his shoulder, at Vicious. "I would imagine that most of us agree, even if for less honourable reasons."

Giovanni's expression hardened. He knew that he commanded the loyalty of Rocket's administrators, but he hadn't realized how completely. "I appreciate it," he replied. Archer's admission warmed his spirit. So many would view him as a villain and yet Archer professed his loyalty as though Giovanni was a hero.

Giovanni turned towards the open ring with Vicious, his mind turning to the task at hand. "Shall we?" he asked.

Vicious nodded, his absurd iron helmet clinking against the inside of the dome helmet. The Rocket agent stepped through the ring and stopped, waving the boss in behind him as he regarded something with awe.

Giovanni stepped through the gateway after him and beheld the unkempt order of a thousand shifting realities.

Mirrored windows reflected back at him, strange shapes moving amongst them. Endless darkness stretched off into the void in all directions, punctuated only by flashing prisms of indistinct light. There was no end to it and no beginning, simply the endless expanse of countless possibilities.

He heard Vicious suck in a startled breath. "Gods above…" the mountain of a man began. "That's… thats…"

"Impossible made possible," Giovanni finished. "This is astounding." His mind raced with the possibility. An infinite number of universes, all of them existing in unison, stared back at him from a place between worlds.

He adjusted the suit camera and attempted to activate the communicator. "Archer, you getting this?"

The suit radio crackled and buzzed with interference, but Archer's voice broke through. "It's unbelievable," he said. "Countless new worlds, ripe for the taking."

"Or a thousand new threats, worse even than Mewtwo," he replied. "This is—"

An alarm blared, audible even in this inhospitable spit of nothingness between universes.

"Sir," Archer said nervously. "There's somethi—"

Violet light erupted from the edges of the ring gates. Giovanni abandoned his curiosity, Vicious already running haphazardly in his suit towards the ring.

He ran, fighting the awkward movement of the suit. He ran, his eyes dancing with spears of burning light. He ran, giving more than he had ever before as real fear overtook him.

Then the gate blinked from view and the space between worlds was empty once more.


He was coming. He was coming to kill Giovanni and there was nothing the crime boss could do to stop it.

The bunker was supposed to have been secret.

Archer and Proton were supposed to have stopped him.

Their vile abomination of mad science, the unholy fusion of fire, lightning and ice, was supposed to have stopped him.

But Ash Ketchum was unstoppable. Giovanni had bought off the boy's closest friends, spending sums of money that would have bankrupted entire nations to produce. They had led him into a trap and he had slaughtered them all for it.

All that was left was a vengeful shade of the happy and hopeful trainer Ash had used to be, and there was nothing Rocket could do to keep him from enacting his ultimate revenge.

The door to the testing chamber blew inward, a blast of azure aura lighting the dim room. Giovanni and his last few remaining chess pieces were arrayed against the intruder. It would never be enough, but they would go down fighting.

Mewtwo, clad in heavy black armour that seemed to drink in the scant light, shot forward to tangle with the howling golden lucario.

Ash stepped into the chamber, glowing with a fiery blue light. His unkempt hair was raven-black and hung down in his face. "It's time to die, Giovanni!"

His pikachu leapt from his shoulder, blazing with blue lightning. The bolt hit Ariana and her arbok, sending them both into convulsions. Giovanni didn't watch her end.

A leavanny dashed from behind Ash, leaf blades held high. Blood streaming from her weapons., Pausing, she held up a blade, letting the blood drip into her mouth, relishing it like other bugs relished liquid sugar.

His charizard spread its wings and took flight, bathing the rest of the gathered Rockets with a firestorm that dwarfed anything Giovanni had ever seen.

Mewtwo landed in front of Ash, tossing an unconscious lucario to the ground. The ultimate weapon drew up a swirling ball of psychic power, hurling it at the chosen hero. Ash lifted an arm, projecting a shield of blue light in front of himself. Mewtwo's attack bounced back at itself, smashing Rocket's ultimate weapon into the wall.

"I told you that I'd kill you for what you did," Ash said, raising his skarmory-feather long sword. "And now I—"

Purple light erupted behind Ash. He tried to turn, but the golden ring that popped into existence enveloped him and his team completely. They were gone as quickly as they had come, leaving Giovanni alone with a battered and unconscious Mewtwo. Only a fading golden ring gave any clue to what had happened as it blinked out of existence.



Giovanni groaned, rolling onto his back. Vicious was leaning over him, grinning at the boss through his ridiculous helmet-under-a-helmet. He held out a hand for Giovanni and hauled the smaller man to his feet.

"That was incre—"

"Giovanni!" shouted a new voice. "I'm here to kill you!"

He spun on the spot, zeroing in one the source immediately. It was a boy, no older than Silver. His black hair was matted with sweat and blood and a team of fearsome pokemon stood with him. The boy dropped an empty full restore bottle, his shining golden lucario rising to its feet beside him.

He was in a bulky exploration suit, his pokemon stashed back in the control room. He had nothing to defend himself with, nothing but—

Hoopa was forming from the spear of red light, wispy smoke rising off the creature. Giovanni felt the connection in his mind and instantly reached for anything he could summon. He found suitable warriors in a strange shattered remnant of Galar and reached out for them with Hoopa's power.

A trio of golden rings appeared, dragging help from across the reaches of space and time.

An red-orange blur slammed into the charizard's throat, snapping the fire drake's neck with the suddenness of its attack. The creature turned, glaring at the intruder and his team as Giovanni watched on in awe.

A purple bird that radiated psychic power floated through the second ring, freezing the rest of the intruder's pokemon in place as the discoloured Zapdos speared the leavanny from behind with a pointed beak.

The Zapdos tossed the bug into the air where a third bird, a reaper of black with sinister flames roaring off the Moltres, skewered the leavanny and swallowed it whole.

The intruder fell back in shock, the rest of his team frozen in place as the birds devastated his team. The lucario made it a few steps before midnight fire smote it where it stood. His espeon glowed with psychic fire, but the purple Articuno wiped it from the earth with a flick of its mind. The pikachu stood the longest, but even the intruder's starter could not stand against the awesome power of the assembled legends.

They were gone as quickly as they had come, sent back through portals and leaving naught but corpses in their wake. Hoopa sat there implacably, unimpressed by the carnage its minions had wrought.

Giovanni stepped forward, looking around in caution. The intruder was holding what looked like a homemade sword fashioned out of a skarmory feather, the tip quivering as he retreated slowly towards the wall. His breathing was rapid and shallow and his eyes darted between his opponents.

More grunts were streaming from the door beneath the control room, fifteen or twenty of them with weapons drawn. Laser sights trained on the intruder as Archer emerged from the door with his houndoom padding along beside him. A second houndoom, likely Vicious' pokemon, followed the first one and took up position beside its master.

Giovanni reached up and unsealed his helmet. He held it at his side, regarding the newcomer with curiosity. "Surrender," he ordered. "Before the same happens to you."

The intruder dropped the sword, raising a hand and screwing up his face in effort. Nothing happened, and the moment passed as doomed realization crossed the intruder's face.

"I think that we have some explaining to do," Archer said quietly. "Something this dangerous… the multiverse delivering someone here… we have to inform Lance." He folded his arms. "He will not be happy."

Giovanni scowled. Lance would most definitely not be happy with the reckless science used here. He never was happy with the perceived failures of Giovanni's projects and this would be no different. But he could delay that conversation until he had rectified his mistake.

"Indeed he will not," he replied.

Giovanni turned away from the prisoner, smiling cryptically as he thought through his plan. Silver still needed to be rescued, save he expose Indigo's meddling in the natural order of the world. Giovanni's mind flashed to the thought of his son subject to foreign torture. He pushed the thought away as quickly as it came, refocusing on the moment at hand. He could save his son, he just needed some more time.

He turned to face Archer. "And I know just who to inform him."

Fear flashed in Archer's eyes for a brief moment. "Indeed," he replied in resignation. He knew that the Champion would not be happy with the news presented here.

"Take the intruder," Giovanni said. "Offer him up and plead for leniency. But do not give away my whereabouts."

"I don't know where you're going in the first place," Archer said.

Giovanni smirked. "That's the idea, old friend. That's the idea."


The Kalosian Rivière was a peaceful place. Located along the wide river to the west of Camphrier town, several of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the world had built a series of sprawling estates that dwarfed even the largest of mansions in Kanto. The entire Rivière was larger than the Indigo Plateau's walled city and constant patrol by Kalos' Royal Guard kept the expansive gardens clear of interested wild pokemon.

All of these guardsmen were barracked on the Rivière's guard post, two absurdly large houses down. It would take ten minutes for the first responders to arrive, by which time he and Silver would likely be gone. There was an airfield maybe a five minute flight away as well, something that he was slightly nervous about. He had the means to buy more time if necessary. He was hoping that the Kalosians made it necessary. He did ostensibly come here to test Hoopa's capabilities against powerful foes, rather than save his only child.

He smirked, catching himself in the lie. He was here for Silver and his conscience. He knew Hoopa was everything they needed and more. No test was required to tell him that.

He glanced over at the creature through the heavy mask that obscured his identity. "Hoopa," he said, regarding the creature with no small measure of pride.

The creature was more than he had been expecting and far greater an asset than he had been hoping for. Archer had been right. The creature opened up a vast multitude of possibilities for Rocket. Dangerous possibilities, but possibility nonetheless.

"Let's go say hello, shall we?" He pointed forward, bending the Hoopa's pliant mind with his will. "Give me something big. I'd like to make our entrance particularly spectacular."

A golden ring appeared overhead, larger than any Giovanni had seen Hoopa create yet. He gasped as the terrible wings of a creature he and Lance had nearly been killed by ten years prior surged through the portal. Borne aloft by a shadowy psychic power and burning hatred, a corrupted Lugia winged its way towards the estate with a piercing cry.

Panicked shouting reached his ears as the protector of the oceans tore a wide path of devastation through the intricate hedge maze. A few scattered bolts of lightning and flame shot into the sky, the desperate acts of a Kalosian patrol caught by the sudden appearance of a furious and corrupted sea god. Lugia laid waste to the patrol with a blast of power that flattened the area entirely.

A shimmering barrier of psychic light sprung into place, deflecting a second blast of shadowy power away from the estate and into the river. A plume of water and mud erupted over the mansion, flopping magikarp sailing along with the deluge.

Giovanni turned to Hoopa as they started down the path that Shadow Lugia had created for them. "More!" he shouted. "Break down that barrier!"

Another golden ring spun into existence, volcanic rage pouring through the portal. An eruption of furious magma poured through the gate, spewing high into the air as the Shadow Lugia banked past the estate, laying waste to another patrol on the other side of the house that dared to assail it.

Magma arced down as if controlled by a divine force and splashed heavily onto the barrier. Giovanni saw a shape within the molten rock, a malevolent and low slung body with four clawed feet, radiating a furious heat that Giovanni could see from a distance. The ancient embodiment of molten rage raised a clawed foot, Primal Heatran preparing to smash the barrier.

With a great whine and a resounding pop, the barrier broke under a single blow. Great torrents of lava sloughed onto the house, igniting the great mansion into a roaring inferno. Giovanni feared for his son for a moment, before it passed. This was the estate of Kalos' Champion herself, outfitted with a state of the art fire suppression system. Silver would be fine for a few moments. Long enough for him to deal with some scant resistance.

A jet screamed overhead, a pair of missiles separating from its wings and splashing against a psychic shield that sprung into place in front of Lugia. Another two jets were racing behind it, all three making a pass of the corrupted Lugia and raking it with cannon fire. The twisted god screeched and flapped skyward in an attempt to evade its pursuers.

More flyers were inbound from the horizon, dragons and birds of prey carrying some of Kalos' finest trainers. He could see them as they closed, some of the trainers already shaking their fists in rage and grief.

Giovanni scowled. He was supposed to have at least ten minutes. The Kalosians had surprised him with the speed of their response. It wouldn't matter though, not with Hoopa at his disposal. Nothing did with this kind of power.

"Take down those jets!" Giovanni shouted over the roar of the jet engines. He turned to Hoopa. "I need more," he ordered.

A pair of smaller rings opened in mid-air, two purple blurs rocketing through with resounding sonic booms. Giovanni saw one of the Eon Twins, both of them colour shifted and in the shape of jets themselves, bank hard and tear off after the Kalosian Air Force jets. The second surged straight ahead and punched a hole through the centre of the aerial formation. The Kalosians desperately retaliated but their assailants were already burning away.

Movement was stirring from the house itself. People were streaming away from the burning building, running for their lives as Heatran laid waste to the tower that reached up from the mansion. It cracked under the fiery assault, twisting away and smashing to pieces among the devastated hedge maze.

Something tore Heatran from the rubble, lifting it over the house. The unseen force smashed the volcano god into the earth, burying it where the hedge maze had once been. The earth began to bubble and melt with Heatran's very presence. It wouldn't be trapped for long.

She rose from the house like an avenging angel, pink light lifting the Champion through the smoke and flame. Her gardevoir rose a half-step behind her, another man borne aloft by psychic power. The trio landed in front of Giovanni and Hoopa as the crime lord came to a halt and regarded his new foes. The Kalosian Air Force lit the night's sky with streams of fire and light, casting the confrontation in a hellish spectacle.

Champion Diantha was a haggard mess, a soot stained shawl wrapped around a sheer silk nightgown. Her hair was up in a messy bun and the left half of her face was burned a cherry red. She must have been in one of the sections of the house hit by the lava.

The man stepped forward, his nightshirt torn and exposing a bandage that wrapped around his stomach. "Prepare to meet your doom, vile cur!" His hand was on his wrist, on the strange glowing stone embedded in his bracelet.

"Hoopa," Giovanni said with a smirk. He had thought that Silver had killed the Royal Consort. Perhaps the father would finish what the son could not. "Dispose of them."

A charizard rose from the burning house, violet streamers of light rising from the Consort. His face was wracked with pain, but the man was committed to the gamble.

"Alain, no!" the Champion was shouting. "You're too—"

An explosion of vibrant energy erupted from the Consort. His bracelet burned with power, reaching up for his fire drake as it swooped overhead. The violet energy remade the charizard into something akin to a nightmare. Blackened scales and azure fire landed in front of Giovanni, looking down at the common man that had dared to challenge royalty.

Giovanni marvelled at the blackened charizard for a moment. He looked past the true dragon, at the Grand Duchess of Kalos and her Consort. "Impressive," he began in a half shout, "but I tire of this."

Giovanni glanced over at the creature responsible for the destruction. "We have spent more than enough time here. We have learned what we came here to learn. Now it is time to take back what is mine." A satisfied grin crossed his face. "End them, Hoopa."

A golden ring, larger even than the one that had summoned the Shadow Lugia appeared above Giovanni. A midnight sun appeared through the ring, bathing the entire battlefield in white-hot light. Ultra Necrozma, a being spoken of only in the most ancient of Alolan history, a creature once prophesized to destroy the world, passed through the ring and shrieked with awesome power.

He felt the temperature rise sharply, felt the air superheating around him. Diantha was enveloped by a bubble of protective light as her consort threw himself at their new opponent.

"Hoopa! Get me inside!"

His faithful servant opened another ring as the few hedges still standing burst into flame. Giovanni stepped through into the dimly lit dungeon, Hoopa following him and closing the gate behind them both.

He could feel the earth shaking and the temperature rising. Even here in Champion Diantha's dungeons, themselves dug into a tunnel under the river, he could feel the Blinding One's rage laying waste to Kalos' finest defenders. It was a terrifying spectacle of the kind that he had feared for Kanto when Mewtwo had escaped.

"Silver, report!"

Movement from one of the cells at the far end of the room drew his gaze. He hurried over to the cell, parental concern taking over for perhaps the first time in his life.

"Silver, you're alive."

The boy was chained to the wall, the heavy chains looping through the machinery his body had been replaced by. His mechanical arm hung limply at his side. It was half disassembled, along with the leg Giovanni had replaced, heavy links of the chains winding around and through the prosthetic limbs. The boy's red cybernetic eye was no longer glowing, itself dangling from the empty socket. Silver's metal face plate was peeled back as well, exposing tissue that had never meant to see open air.

The human half of his face was bruised and bloody, his crimson hair matted with dirt and blood. Silver's human leg stuck out at an awkward angle and Giovanni could see the fingers on his good hand reflexively opening and closing on nothing.

"Futhur," he murmured, hardly even able to speak. "Gav' 'em nuthin'"

Giovanni shook his head and felt the weight of consequence hanging from his neck. He gently brushed some of Silver's matted crimson hair out of his face and felt pride replacing disgust. Silver hadn't broken.

"You did well, Son." He stepped back, waving Hoopa forward as the underground prison shook with a titanic impact. "I'm getting you out of here."

Hoopa raised an arm, ripping the cell door off with a liquid shadow projected from its arm. Giovanni pushed past the pokemon and tested the chains on the wall. Moving them drew a small whimper of pain from the boy and Giovanni knew what had to be done.

He knelt down, blindly feeling for the release latch inside his son's mechanical shoulder. The Kalosians had trapped his prosthetics, but they could be replaced. The boy could not be. He found the latch and tore it open. Silver's mangled arm dropped to the ground with a heavy thunk. Giovanni moved to his left side, searching for the trapped leg's release latch as well.

"Doesn't… change -nything", Silver mumbled weakly.

"I know, boy," Giovanni replied as he detached Silver's leg. He looked down at the remnants of his child, shame and disgust at himself welling up inside. "I know."

He lifted Silver, draping the boy's remaining arm over his shoulder. He lifted the boy, pushing away a ping of guilt as the disassembled limbs lay abandoned on the floor. He could mourn his son's injuries later

"Get us topside," he ordered.

Hoopa drew up another ring and followed its master through. Giovanni could do nothing but gape in awe.

The Kalosian Rivière was a burning ruin. There was not a bush or a shrub untouched, not a single tree or house still standing. The Radiant One's light had scorched everything, leaving a blackened stain in Kalos' treasured heartlands.

The creature was still lumbering eastward, chasing down a bolt of blue dragonfire that dipped and dodged around spears of burning light. A few of Kalos' brave defenders still assailed it as the creature chased down Diantha's Consort, but the number of attacks were dwindling under the combined assault of the assembled gods

A heavy impact behind Giovanni drew his attention away from the cataclysmic devastation wrought by Ultra Necrozma's light. She was there, hair burned clean off her head and clothing smouldering at the edges. Her gardevoir disappeared into its ball as she approached Giovanni but she made no aggressive movements. Instead, Giovanni could see restraint in the hatred on her face.

"You," she said with barely contained rage. "you have brought destruction to my home, slaughtered my men, and summoned a creature that cannot be defeated…" her voice trailed off as Necrozma bathed another of the mansions with blinding fire. "Why? You stole the tablet. You knew the danger Hoopa posed. It will destroy the world if left unchecked. Why?"

Giovanni turned, regarding the destruction. It stretched on as far as the eye could see, not a thing untouched by fire. He turned back to Silver, looking upon his son's injuries in proper light for the first time. His stomach twisted and he looked away a moment later.

"The things we do for our children," he said slowly. "The lies we tell ourselves to handle the truth…" he trailed off for a moment. "My path led me to this mistake, to this moment. I wanted a power to defeat the ultimate weapon." He slowly looked back at his wounded son. "I found it, but I made a mistake in obtaining it."

"You made a mistake in unleashing Hoopa." Diantha's jaw was set and her voice was strong. "He may be your child, but Hoopa will destroy him the same as it will all of us. It must be sealed…" she trailed off. He gaze never left Giovanni. "Please…"

He turned back to Hoopa. The creature was beyond even his wildest dreams, but so had been Mewtwo. Mewtwo had paid his schemes back with destructive wrath that had levelled an island nearly two miles across. Hoopa could do far worse. "I created the ultimate weapon once," he started quietly. "I thought myself above the consequences of my actions. I was… mistaken."

He looked back at Diantha, at the Champion of Kalos as she stood before a man that could destroy her with hardly any effort at all. "I do not apologize for retrieving my son from your captivity. But I am sorry for what I have unleashed," he said. "It is wrong, a perversion of the natural order. No one man should possess such a power."

"You can stop it. One parent to another," she replied, desperate intent clear in her eyes. She was begging him, begging for the senseless destruction to end. "Hoopa controls them. You control Hoopa… please…"

Giovanni nodded sombrely as he bitterly thought on his failures. He had already endangered humanity enough. Hoopa was a threat, even if it was safely under his control now. He was but a man, and men could be killed. Hoopa had the potential to be even worse than Mewtwo. He knew what he had to do now. Even if it meant admitting yet another failure.

"One parent to another," he started in a solemn tone. "I will seal it."

He turned back to Hoopa. "Banish them," he ordered. "Send these creatures away."

Primal Heatran forced its way free of the broken earth, lava dripping off its head. A golden ring spirited it away, leaving a bleeding and burning wound in the earth.

Two rings formed, spiriting away the Eon Twins. A larger ring formed, sending the corrupted Lugia back to its home dimension.

An even larger ring appeared in the sky. The burning light of an artificial sun faded away, leaving only the smouldering, hellish glow of a thousand fires illuminating the broken Kalosian Rivière.

Giovanni produced the Prison Bottle from the inside pocket of his suit. "Give me a ring home," he said quietly.

Hoopa obliged him. A golden ring appeared behind him. Giovanni tossed the Prison Bottle to the Kalos Champion and turned to leave. He glanced back at the Champion and felt a brief moment of sorrow as he regarded the state of her home.

He raised Hoopa's dark ball and nodded with the respect Diantha's station deserved. "My apologies then, Champion." He stepped through the ring and turned to face her. "I bid you adieu." He snapped the dark ball in half, breaking his control over the creature. The ring blinked out of sight, leaving Giovanni and his son alone in the darkened room.

Giovanni gently helped Silver to the waiting medical bed. The lights in the Viridian Gym's medical bay slowly blinked on, sensing the movement.

"Just lay still, son," Giovanni said quietly in a vain attempt to disguise his remorse. "I'll get the auto-doc on."

He laid his son back, trying and failing to look away from his wounds. He punched in the commands on the auto-doc's control panel and returned to Silver's side.

"I'm sorry, son," he said quietly as the automated surgeon set to work sedating Silver. "I… I should not have put you at risk like—"

"Shut up," Silver spat through bloodied lips. "Save it f'r some'un who isn't y'r tool."

Giovanni was quiet for a moment. "You are right," he replied. He hung his head, shame and disgust overcoming him. "Still… I am sorry."

Silver met his eyes as the sedative began to take effect. His eyelids drooped, but Giovanni could see that hatred in them. "I don' giv' a fuck."

Giovanni didn't speak until long after Silver had succumbed to the sedative. He watched the boy, so similar in looks to his mother, breathe deeply and calmly. Giovanni didn't hide the tears. He bowed over his son for a moment, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, son."

He straightened back out and stiffened his spine. Silver was safe. His son was alive and that was all that mattered. It had cost him the very weapon he had risked his son for and all he could think was how grateful he was that the boy was alive.

"He is right, you know."

Giovanni turned. Matori was standing against the wall, her arms crossed across her chest. "Of course he is," Giovanni answered. "I turned my own son into a living weapon. What kind of father would do that?"

Silence filled the room. Matori stood up off the wall. "I heard what you said to him," she said. "You may have failed him, but you were there when he needed you."

Giovanni bowed his head. "He doesn't need me. Not after everything that I've done to him." He reached up to the auto-doc controls. "But I still need him." He looked down at his son with guilt bearing down on his conscience as the machinery lowered from above.

Cybernetic arms poked and prodded at the unconscious boy, assessing his condition and determining what upgrades could be made. Two arms lowered, removing the rest of his disassembled leg as a replacement was produced from above.

Giovanni turned away and pushed down the guilt and disgust. He looked at Matori, not knowing whether he was saving his son's life over a sense of fatherhood or of the use he still had for the boy. "We should go," he said without a trace of emotion in his voice.

Matori nodded. "Yes, boss."

Lance was likely waiting for a report and he was sure to be furious. Giovanni pushed down the emotions and cleared his throat. He turned and strode from the room, leaving Silver behind to the care of the auto-doc. Matori followed him, remaining quiet as they walked through the gym's interior.


He found Lance less than five minutes later, waiting outside the door to his office. Archer sat patiently in one of the chairs, as if he knew Giovanni would be arriving soon.

"You have explaining to do," Lance said. "Kalos lies in ruin and this one," he gestured to Archer, "says something happened with a multiverse, which I still have difficulty understanding."

Archer shrugged, shooting Lance a smirk as if he had actually enjoyed being evasive about what had actually happened. "

Giovanni smirked as he opened the door to his office. "Indeed," he replied. He nodded at the prisoner trussed and tied to the chair. "And our new friend can tell us all about it."

Ash Ketchum looked up at the two most powerful men in Indigo and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as the doors closed ominously behind them.


Giovanni stared blankly at the small bottle. "You mean to say that the creature contained within this vessel is what produced the phenomenon?"

Domino nodded, brushing her shoulder length hair from her face. "It is," she replied. "And now it's yours."

The boss smirked. Access to a thousand different worlds, all of them ripe for the taking. Mewtwo levitated off the ground, sensing his anticipation.

"And all of it will be mine," he said ominously. "Every last world will know the fury of my new Rainbow Rocket."



To be continued…
 
Death of Duty, Chapter 26: Confession

Joshthewriter

Charizard Fan
Location
Toronto
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. charizard
Journey

Death of Duty

Part 6: Secrets and Lies

Confession


Truth sets you free. — Champion Lance Wataru


Janine and I hadn't packed for any kind of mission. We had nothing, no communication, no supplies, and in my case no pokemon outside of Artemis. Artemis, who was busy with an impromptu flying lesson from her siblings.

Vargas provided us with some spare equipment, but I felt naked without my pokemon. Ironic that I was likely better protected by the bite suit than I'd ever been while still feeling more exposed than ever. I fidgeted uncomfortably under the bulky suit, pulling on the collar of the gaudy charmander print shirt I had on underneath.

"Marcus," Janine's voice crackled out of the radio. "Got a decent view from up here. The jungle makes it damn difficult to see anything properly. If Vargas really does have a saboteur on the island, we've got our work cut out for us."

I lifted the radio up to my face, turning and looking up at the little shadow above that was Janine. "You doubt he's telling the truth?" I asked. "I thought he seemed sincere enough."

"You think that everyone is sincere," Janine replied. I could hear the smirk in her voice. "It's endearing just how naïve you can be."

"Hey, I managed to get us through Lorelei." I stepped into the clearing and approached the power substation that Vargas had pointed us towards. It had gone offline last night, meaning that our trail started here. "And for the record, I don't think everyone is sincere. Just that I like to believe most people tell the truth."

Janine chuckled through the radio. "Experience says you're wrong. I just don't trust that he told us the full story."

There was a small pause as I approached the substation and pulled open the smashed control panel on the wall. It was crushed in, like something large and heavy had pounded the wall multiple times. There were a half dozen impact marks around the crushed panel. I pried open the panel and looked at the indecipherable mess of cables within.

"Janine, it doesn't look like this is deliberate sabotage," I said. "Looks more like something got pissed off at the building and tried to knock it down."

"We did see a rampardos on the way in," she replied. "And it's not like some of the other fossils aren't capable of that."

I frowned, kneeling down to look at the flash of sunlight off something metal on the ground. "I found something," I said. I lifted the smashed padlock and stared at it. "A padlock, perfectly cut by some bolt cutters."

"You sure it's not just broken?"

I stared intently at the clean cut. "I'm sure," I replied. "The metal would be warped if a rampardos had smashed the lock. This is too clean."

I heard a rustle behind me and quickly got to my feet. My hand was on the taser prod that Vargas had supplied me as I scanned the brush. It wasn't much, but it might deter some of the smaller fossils for a few moments.

"Marcus I've got something big moving towards you. Can't make out what it is." I glanced up, she was already diving towards me atop her venomoth. "Get ready."

"I hear it," I replied, dropping into a ready position. I hefted the taser prod as my eyes scanned the dense foliage.

The wide plate of the bastiodon's face forced its way through the dense brush. It rumbled at me and sniffed the air loudly.

"It's a bastiodon and some babies," I said into my radio, relief washing over me. I smiled as the trio of shieldon bounded forward to sniff at the strange human creature standing before them. "Nothing too dangerous."

I reached out and let the mother bastiodon sniff at my hand. She turned away, unconcerned and began to chew at a leafy bush. One of the shieldon bounded over and squeaked for my attention. I held out a hand and it rubbed the edge of the crest on its head against me.

I smiled and glanced up at the sky. Janine was well within view now as her massive bug swooped overhead, her sundress billowing out around her. She looked stunning in the afternoon sun.

"Admiring the view?" Janine asked.

I smiled as I caught a flash of her grin. "Always," I replied.

I reached over and opened the crushed control panel. The door had been crushed but the actual controls inside looked fine. I flipped the control lever back into the on position and stepped back.

A static hum filled the air. The bastiodon and her babies ran, spooked by the sudden hum of machinery and electricity. Sparks erupted from the fencing behind the substation, showering the dense brush. A gaping hole had been torn in the thick paddock fencing and was belching sparks from the torn cables that ran through the fence.

I reached back into the control panel and slammed the lever back into the off position. The shower of sparks died, mercifully before a fire could spring up. "You see any of that?" I asked. "We've got a hole in the paddock fencing. Get back in contact with Vargas so he can get repairs started and then head back to me."

"What are you going to do?" she asked. She swooped down, her venomoth landing atop the small substation. She looked down at me with concern. "Nothing dangerous, I hope. We said nothing dangerous during vacation."

I stared into the jungle, eyes on the trail of snapped trunks that led through the trees. "I think I found a lead," I said. "Gonna follow it and see what comes out of it all." I looked up at her. "I'll be safe. I'm stubborn, remember?"

She rolled her eyes. "How could I possibly forget?"

She set back off into the sky and I watched her go, thoughts of purple sundresses dancing in my mind.


The path led away from the paddock and towards the ocean. I followed the twisting and winding path until it curved back along the small dirt road that ringed the island to allow the trucks to reach each paddock.

I doubled back, finding a branch in the path that led off to the west. The branch was thinner and smaller than the main path had been and none of the trunks were splintered.

"Marcus to Janine," I started. "Following the lead north. Looks like the trail is leading me towards the tyrunt paddock."

Static answered me. I frowned and slotted the radio back into my belt. It wasn't like Janine was a stranger to simply disappearing on me, but it left me with no support if I came across something mean.

I followed the smaller trail. It was direct, a straight line rather than the winding trail that wild pokemon would have worn into the wilderness.

I glanced up at the volcano in the middle of the island, taking my bearings. I was close to one of the gondola stations and I could see it beginning to move at the top of the mountain. Bright red paint, untarnished by the beating sun, was slowly descending from the peak. Probably Vargas returning to the tyrunt paddock.

"Janine, this is Marcus. Do you copy?"

I waited, frustration building. It had been at least an hour or two of no contact. Janine should have responded by now. I sighed and slotted the radio back onto the bite suit's belt. I didn't hear the first rustle. Not until it was too late.

The knife pressed into my throat and I froze.

"Move and you're dead."

I slowly cleared my throat. "I'm not moving."

"Who are you?" she asked. "And why the hell are you tracking me?"

"Ranger Marcus Wright, I'm here on request of Alexander Vargas. Looking for a saboteur that he claims is out to ruin him." I glanced back, trying to catch a glimpse of her face.

I felt the knife blade press harder and stopped in my attempt to look at her. "You're working for him?" the voice hissed. She leaned in and I could feel her breath on my neck. "I should just kill you now."

"I'd rather you didn't," I said with a deadpan tone. "That'd make for a tragically poor end to my vacation and I did promise my girlfriend that I wouldn't do anything too dangerous while she was gone."

The blade moved ever so slightly off my neck. "Vacation?" she asked. I felt her step back and the knife move away. "You don't even know what's going on here, do you?"

I shook my head. I knew enough to know that Vargas hadn't told me the whole story. "Janine got the sense that Vargas wasn't telling us everything. I put a lot of stock into what she says, so I'm inclined to believe that I don't have the full story," I replied. "How about you fill me in?"

She sighed loudly. "My uncle's many betrayals is a very very long story. And I don't have the time to get into it right now. Right now, I have somewhere to be, something to break so I can stop him from—"

Thunderous footfalls erupted onto the small trail. Tree trunks splintered and toppled as the rampardos battered its way into the small clearing of trees.

My assailant was gone, a flash of tan skin and drab camo disappearing into the jungle. I spun on the spot, filing away the glimpse of her as the rampardos bellowed a challenge that could only be meant for me.

I tore the taser prod from the holster and snapped it out to its full length. I doubted that it'd do more than tickle the rampardos, but at least it made me feel slightly better.

She snorted and lined up her body. My eyes widened as I saw her muscles tense in preparation to charge. I waited the fraction of a second for her to spring into movement, preparing to dodge out of the way and make a run for it.

I threw myself to the side as she thundered past, trunks snapping and the jungle crumbling in her wake. I staggered to my feet and ran into the opening that I'd given myself. I ignored the furious bellow of frustration behind me. I dashed into the thick brush and was gone in seconds.

I let the rampardos' tantrum play out as I hid. It smashed down trees, trampling a small clearing into the thick of the jungle and gouging out the small path. It grew further and further away as I slowly crept away.

I finally stepped out of the thick brush and onto the road that ringed the island. I turned towards the north, towards the tyrunt paddock and Vargas.

I needed answers. The girl had said that her uncle had betrayed her. I didn't know who she was, or what that meant, but I knew Vargas would have answers. Even if they were answers he didn't want me to have.


I jogged along the dirt road, settling into an easy rhythm. It had been maybe an hour since I had encountered the girl and escaped the rampardos. Sweat was running down my face and back, but the last few months since Fuchsia had seen me training in a tropical environment. I was used to the heat, or at least tolerant of it.

Despite growing up on my family's farm, I had never been a physical specimen. I'd shunned the farm work that my father had given me and preferred to wander around the woods pretending to be a trainer. I hadn't grown into the 'strapping young farm hand' that my father had wanted and had been a lanky, skinny weakling when I'd finally left home. Toned muscles were replacing the wet noodles that had been my arms and I could feel myself slowly gaining strength. My decision to train alongside my pokemon had begun to pay off in spades.

I arrived at the clearing as the sun dipped behind the volcano that dominated the island. It was still bright, but that would change rapidly as the sun set properly. I estimated maybe twenty minutes left of daylight and absentmindedly mourned that I'd likely missed my meeting with Blaine.

Two trucks were idling beside the overbuilt paddock, people milling around them. More people were stood on the the two viewing platforms, peering into the forty foot tall enclosure in animated discussion.

I approached the trucks and stopped in my tracks as the wizened grin of someone that I'd never met in person emerged from around the trucks.

"Professor Oak?" I asked incredulously. My brain emptied and all I could see was the literal superstar in front of me.

He smiled serenely through greying stubble. "Evening, Mr. Wright." He held out a hand. "Good to finally meet you in person."

I shook his hand numbly. "Likewise," I mumbled. "What are you doing out here on Sawtooth?"

He waved absentmindedly at the paddock behind him. "Checking in on my investments. Sawtooth is one of my lab's many many sponsored projects and I like to keep appraised of her going's on." He grinned and I saw the pure enjoyment on his face. "I'll admit, Sawtooth is a bit of a guilty pleasure on my part. It's a terrible investment profit-wise, but I'm quite a fan of the results."

A deafening roar shook the earth I stood on and rattled my bones. I looked over at the concrete paddock and knew what was held within.

Once the undisputed monarch of their time, only a colossal asteroid strike that had wiped out most of the life on the planet had been able to shake their hold as apex species. But thanks to Sawtooth and Vargas, a tyrantrum walked the planet once more. It had been quite the achievement and had made a massive stir when it had been announced years back.

"She's got quite the flare for the dramatic, don't you think?" Oak said with a proud swell in his voice. He glanced back at the paddock and then back at me. "Would you like to meet her?"

I looked at him, slightly bewildered by the turn of events. I nodded in shy embarrassment and swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "I'd love to," I said quickly.

He turned and started towards the paddock. "Like I mentioned, this place just bleeds money." He gestured at the paddock walls. "This paddock alone cost more than thirty million and while it may have been the most expensive of the bunch, none of the other paddocks came in under ten million." He shrugged as he reached the observation platform and turned to look at the Queen contained within. "I'd say it was money well spent though. Not every day you get to meet something like her."

I stepped onto the platform and followed his gaze. She stood more than thirty feet tall, rippling muscles protected under rock hard scales. A mane of white feathers wrapped around her neck and spread along her back like a regal cape. Her boney crest looked like a crown atop her head, leaving no doubt who the true monarch of the pokemon world was.

"Marcus, I am proud to introduce you to Empress."

The gigantic tyrantrum glanced up at the movement on the observation platform. I felt more than heard the angry rumble of the prehistoric predator, my teeth rattling inside my skull from the vibrations.

"She's magnificent," I said, my voice shaky with fear and reverence. I shrunk back even as I stared in awe, suddenly small before the true ruler of our world. Her eyes locked onto the slight movement, focusing in on me with a predator's gaze.

A terrified bleat drew her attention and the gogoat made a mad dash for the cover provided by the underbrush on the far side of the paddock. Empress roared, a sound so loud that it made me think that it would shake me apart, and stomped after the gogoat.

"Normally, she would be roaming the much larger enclosure. I'm told there was an accident last week that compromised the paddock wall."

I raised an eyebrow. I knew that had to be the work of the woman I'd encountered but I didn't know how much Oak was privy to. "An accident?" I asked.

He waved his hand absentmindedly. "Vargas assured me it was nothing serious."

I nodded and looked back at Empress. She had found the gogoat and was roaring triumphantly. Oak clearly was not heavily involved in the day to day of Sawtooth, just an investor inspecting what his money was paying for.

"I had been meaning to call you," he started as he shifted attention to me. "There have been some issues at the lab, with the cubone colony you rescued."

I turned back to face him. I felt a pit in my stomach. The cubone had hardly crossed my mind since I'd sent them to the professor. "What kind of problems?" I asked.

He frowned. "Behavioural mostly. They've begun to show some aggression towards my staff, staff who care for over a hundred species of pokemon on my property in Pallet Town." He sighed and I could feel the frustration. "I'm afraid that I'm at a loss as to what could be done."

I paused, in thought for a moment. "When I found the colony, they had their own social structure, their own clan, so to speak. What is it like now?"

Oak's eyes flashed with excitement and I saw him working through the new information I'd provided. "They have no social structure to speak of. There is no group cohesion, no family groups. It's a mass of scared individuals, individuals that are still very young."

The realization hit me and I knew what I had to do. "They need an example," I said sombrely. "They need a marowak."

He nodded slowly and I could tell he knew what I felt in that moment. "They need your marowak. He is an adult from specifically that colony. He knows their ways, he knows the structures that they need."

I sighed heavily and felt myself sink on my feet. "I think I knew that this would happen. I think I knew and I was just being selfish." I looked up from my feet and met Oak's gaze. "I can't be selfish anymore. It's not fair, not to the cubone and not to Acolyte."

Oak smiled and I felt something that I hadn't felt since I was very young and my father didn't view me as a disappointment. "It's never too late to do the right thing. No matter what has happened, no matter how far it's gone, it's never too late."

I felt myself smile, felt a little bit of the weight lift from my shoulders. "I'll have to send him over after I get back to Cinnabar." I looked down and forced the smile to stay. "He'll be happy to see them again."

"You can come visit them," he said. "I'll have us teleported to my lab and you can see Acolyte off yourself if you'd like." His smile never faded and I felt like he actually cared. "I can—"

A titanic impact shook the paddock. The viewing platform swayed, itself just a scaffold hastily constructed and bolted to this small paddock. Oak hit me, both of us going down hard in a tangle. A second impact hit the paddock and I heard the unmistakable sound of concrete cracking.

Then Empress roared and I swore that the paddock wall would crumble from the noise alone. I scrambled to my feet, glancing into the paddock at Empress. I saw her circle around the paddock and point herself towards the crack spreading up the wall.

I glanced down and behind us, at the rampardos that had escaped earlier.I realized that the rampardos' escape hadn't been an accident. The woman I'd encountered had to have led it here for this purpose.

Empress launched into a run and I dove to cover Oak as I whistled desperately for Artemis. The earth shook with every footfall and I prayed that she didn't knock the platform down when she broke through.

The side of the paddock erupted as Empress smashed through it with ease. Rebar reinforced concrete tumbled and showered the trucks with chunks of the wall. People went screaming away from the thundering footfalls of a tyrantrum and scattered in all directions.

The platform we were on twisted away and toppled, but it didn't fall all the way to the ground. The last set of supports must have been stronger than the others because they bent but did not break. One of the men who had been on the platform with us went sailing off and landed hard in the dirt. He didn't move and I realized in horror that he hadn't been the only one to fall.

I felt the thundering impact as Empress collided with the rampardos and heard the sickening crunch of bones snapping and the rampardos' strangled whine. I heard it struggle, but what could a rampardos do against the monarch of its time.

I glanced down at the ground and looked over at Oak. We were still about ten feet above the ground, the scaffolding groaning and leaning as the last of the supports strained to hold up the structure. I shimmied off of Oak and dropped to the ground, turning back up to look at the elderly professor.

"I'll catch you," I started. We didn't have long. Empress wouldn't take long to dispose of the rampardos and I wasn't keen on facing down a tyrantrum with my little taser prod. Artemis hasn't answered my call and Janine had completely disappeared hours ago. "Just—"

Oak dropped and I caught him as best I could. I glanced back up, my eyes darting to the three researchers still tangled in the scaffolding. One was clearly dead, his body bent almost in half when he had been trapped between the bars of the scaffold. It had folded in on itself and smushed him like god folding a pancake. The other two were desperately trying to extricate themselves as they made a humongous racket in the metal trap.

I pulled Oak to his feet and glanced back at Empress. I heartily wished that I hadn't done so. She had her foot planted on the prone rampardos and was staring intently at the humans making far too much noise in front of her. She blinked slowly and I saw her oversized pupils dilate as she tried to focus on us.

One of the trucks roared to life and Empress' attention snapped to the sudden sound. I didn't wait for Empress to turn, I spun and beckoned up to the two researchers.

The first hit me and nearly knocked me down, but I caught her as the truck's tires spun into action. The second researcher didn't wait, jumping down as the truck lurched forward and tried desperately to swerve away from Empress' furious charge.

I didn't hear the snap of his ankle or his scream of pain because the truck clipped Empress. It flipped onto its side as the tyrantrum tossed it like a toy. She paced as the truck's engine screamed in protest and ground to a screeching halt. The queen of the ancient world bellowed her fury and tore into the upended machine.

My radio crackled with garbled static. I didn't care who it was, I didn't have the time to care. I hauled the crippled researcher up as Empress tore the drivetrain clean off the truck with the rear axle still attached. We made it two steps before a new trio of roars split the scene.

My eyes went to the heavens as a trio of golden beams smote the ancient monarch from the skies. They drove her into the dirt, pushing her through the eviscerated remnants of the truck and leaving burning furrows where they found the earth.

Artemis and her siblings swooped overhead as they announced their presence with another trio of deafening roars. Empress staggered to her feet, her rock-hard scales smoking with the heat of the triple hyper beam she had endured.

Three new flashes of light erupted in the dusk of the setting sun. I recognized the pokemon instantly. Samuel Oak had been Champion of Indigo for thirty-seven years, becoming the first Champion in Indigo League history to voluntarily relinquish their station as well as Indigo's longest serving Champion by over fifteen years. His pokemon were legends in the training world, to say nothing of the man himself.

Flare unfurled her wings and took off as Storm racked her shoulder cannons into place. Gaea's tremendous flower quivered with anticipation as the surviving half of Oak's champion team faced down Empress. They were hardened warriors, not one of the fazed by the monarch before them. They had faced stronger opponents alone during Oak's reign as Champion.

His blastoise wasted no time. Empress took a step towards her new opponents with a roar, only to be greeted by a torrent of water down her gullet. The tyrantrum gagged and retched as a storm of spore coated leaves followed the blastoise's attack. Oak's venasaur followed up the leaf storm with a horde of vines that wrapped tightly around the tyrantrum's legs.

I looked to the sky, already knowing what was coming. I had seen Oak's double battle against Drake during the late Hoennic Champion's reign as Grand Champion. I had seen Oak's mighty venasaur immobilize opponents so that his ferocious charizard could deliver a crushing final blow.

A second sun ignited as the one in the sky finally dipped below the horizon. Flare swooped low as she wreathed herself in raging fire. The foliage closest to her burst into flames and I felt my skin burning from my proximity to the blaze. I dove for cover as the legendary charizard closed in on her target.

Flare impacted Empress and the island shook with the force of their clash. I felt heat wash over me and lay there in shock as the raw power of Oak's team left me in stunned awe.

I forced myself up, peering through the smoke and flame. Storm had her eyes closed in concentration in the midst of the flames. Flare stood victorious over a prone tyrantrum and Gaea snaked yet more vines towards Empress to immobilize her. Storm opened her eyes as clouds seemed to roll in from nowhere.

I glanced over at Oak as the skies opened up with a torrential downpour that would have shamed even a hurricane.

"Mr. Wright," he began. I turned to him, my ears ringing wildly. He sounded like he was speaking through a tinny old speaker. "Check on that rampardos." He scowled and I followed his gaze to a figure standing at the edge of the tree line. "Our guest has some explaining to do."

I knew that it had to be the woman who had ambushed me. She made no move to leave, no attempt to escape. Perhaps she knew she wouldn't get far. With Oak's attention on her, she was as good as captured already.

I turned towards the rampardos as the rain eased slightly. Mud slicked my pants and my garish charmander shirt had been torn almost completely off of me when I'd been trapped under the scaffold. My ears were still ringing and my face flush with the heat of flame. But that paled in comparison to the rampardos. It had taken an absolute mangling from Empress. One arm was little more than a fleshy string dangling from a stump, a gaping wound on the rampardos' side left me almost no illusions about the revived fossil's fate.

It was going to die. This creature had been revived millions of years after its extinction only to be mauled by a predator that it should never have been faced with.

A flutter behind me drew my attention. Janine splashed into the mud and threw her arms around my bare shoulders. I wrapped my arms around her, still numbly taking stock of the situation.

"You said nothing dangerous," she whispered. "A tyrantrum?" she asked with barely concealed venom. "A tyrantrum?" she asked again, slightly less aggressively. "You really tangled with a tyrantrum without Artemis around?"

I drew back for a moment. "I didn't break the cage," I protested weakly. "And Oak did the fighting."

"Oak?" she asked incredulously. Her eyes glanced between the three pokemon that were more famous than most trainers. "Oh. That Oak."

Artemis landed in a spray of mud, growling at the rampardos for a brief moment. She sniffed at it for a moment, before her attention shifted to the three former Champion pokemon.

My mind snapped back to the moment and I looked over at Janine. "I need some kind of potion," I started. "Anything helps, but it'd be better if it was on the strong side."

She glanced down at the rampardos and dove into her pack. I knelt down over the wounded pokemon as Janine forced a bottle into my hand.

"It's a full restore," she said. "If it doesn't do it, nothing will."

I emptied the bottle. Every drop was sprayed into the rampardos' grievous wounds. I took extra care to coat the vicious bite marks on the pokemon's neck. Every single drop of that precious liquid was used and I stuffed the empty back into Janine's pack.

"Marcus," Oak said as he approached me. The woman that had ambushed me was at his side, her arms free as she looked at me with disgust. "Alice here has informed me of some curious developments. We need to have words." He looked over at my aerodactyl. "I am indeed curious to hear how you ended up in possession of my property."

Artemis turned, growling at the professor's tone. I held up a hand, silencing her with the gesture. Oak raised an eyebrow at that and I saw his lips tighten.

"What do you mean by your property, sir?"

He gestured to Artemis. "All revived fossils are supposed to be property of the Sawtooth Island Research Group. No trainer of any kind is supposed to be in the possession of a revived fossil."

I frowned, feeling my heart drop. I was not well versed in legal speak, but I didn't like the sound of that. "I was not aware of that. Leader Erika of Celadon obtained Artemis for me, as a reward for helping her clear Rocket out of Celadon."

"This aerodactyl was not for sale. None of them were." Oak scowled and looked at me more intently. "Were there any other buyers? Where did the sale take place?"

I took a step back, putting up my hands in surrender. "I don't know, sir. Like I said, I received Artemis from Erika."

"I told you he wouldn't know. He doesn't know anything," the girl said.

"Agreed," Janine jabbed, winking at me.

The girl met my eyes and looked me over with an unimpressed frown. The woman was much younger than I had thought, barely even a teenager by the looks of it. "He's just an idiot customer. You have to stop my uncle."

Oak turned and looked at her. "Is he the only one involved in sales of live specimens? Or is it—"

The drone of an engine cut through the quiet of nature and Oak fell silent. We all looked to the sky, to the pair of large helicopters flying overhead. They ignored the island and headed straight for the volcano's peak.

"It's too late," said the girl. "There's the rest of his debtors. Uncle Alejandro called them here to settle his debts."

Oak swivelled towards her again. "What does he plan to do?" he asked.

She met his gaze with fire of rebellious youth. "The same thing he did with that aerodactyl," she started. "He's selling them all."

Oak set his jaw. I saw his feet plant and the raw determination on his face. This was a Champion's resolve. "Then let's go stop them," he said. "All of us."


Artemis roared a half moment after Flare, refusing to let herself be left out of the fun. We soared above the lip of the volcano as the sun dipped below the horizon. Oak's charizard let off a plume of flame that lit up the peak. The two helicopters were cast in fiery light, projecting massive shadows on the facility nestled into the volcano's peak.

Artemis and I swept low and I noted the figures standing wreathed in darkness that moulded around the entrance to the facility. I craned my neck as we swept over, trying and failing to get a better look at them. "I've got guards outside," I said into my radio. "Can't get a good count on them, there's something weird going on."

"Darkness warping," Janine added. "They've got a Shade."

I jerked my head in her direction as Artemis banked around for another pass. I didn't know what it had meant by Shade, but I had a sense that it was something I wasn't exactly supposed to know about.

Flare flared her wings as she landed in front of the facility. I saw the darkness at the mouth of the lab writhing and battling against the light of the flame before it dissipated and left two figures standing before Oak. He slipped from the back of his charizard and scowled. A smaller figure followed him, the girl, standing a half step behind him.

Janine and I landed on either side of him, staring down the two figures. Artemis growled as I patted her on her neck, looking back and forth between the two. I didn't spare a glance for Janine or Oak, keeping my gaze on our opponents for intimidation effect.

The woman was standing slightly in front of the man, making it clear who was in charge. He leaned back against the wall and adjusted his mask calmly as if he was unconcerned with the confrontation.

The woman shook out her long silvery hair and smirked at us contemptively. She held up a single pokeball that seemed to be wreathed in shadows. "I suggest you leave," she said coldly. "Before we make this messy."

Oak huffed derisively. "Karen and Will." He shook his head. "The two of you are no match for myself, to say nothing of the two trainers I have with me." He folded his arms across his chest. "Make yourselves useful and escort us to the man in charge."

The woman rolled her eyes. "That's not what I'm being paid for, old man." She tossed the ball up into the air, releasing an absolutely monstrous houndoom beside her.

"I don't much care," Oak replied. "I am the prime investor in this island's activities. Whatever you're being paid, I'll double it. Show me to your boss and I'll ensure that you never see a gap in your employment again."

She blinked in surprise, before a happy grin crossed her face. She turned to the man leaning against the wall, returning her houndoom as she leaned in. They whispered intently for a moment before she turned and nodded to Oak. "Follow me."

Oak nodded politely, all the venom gone from his voice. "Thank you, my dear." He followed her, calm confidence radiating from his unconcerned demeanour. The girl stayed in lockstep with him, always a few steps behind him.

Karen turned and pushed open the doors. The man in the mask stood up, beckoning Janine and I in after Oak.

I stole a glance at her, half wanting to ask what she'd meant by Shade. But she had already returned her venomoth and was following Oak. I glanced up, returning Artemis to her ball as I followed suit.

The man in the mask closed the door behind us, silently bringing up the rear as Karen led us through the facility. She stopped in front of a boardroom and smirked knowingly at Oak.

"This should be fun," Karen said. "I've never seen anyone keep the boss from what he wanted, so you'll have your work cut out for you."

Oak stared back, unperturbed. "The door, Miss Karen."

She pushed open the doors, holding one open as Oak filed through with us half a step behind.

He was massive. His shoulders were as wide across as Surge, but he was easily taller than the Vermlion Gym Leader. His bright red hair was styled up in some weird looking spikes that ran down into a sharp point at his crimson beard.

His expression was dour and cruel as he towered over Vargas in one of the chairs. The massive man turned and his expression shifted towards surprise before flipping to disappointment.

"Lysandre," Oak said with a chill in his voice. "That's enough."

The massive man scowled. "Samuel Oak," he began. He glanced back at Vargas and I saw the bruise covering half the man's face. "I was unaware you would be joining us."

"Release him," Oak ordered, one hand on the balls at his waist. "You have no business here."

"I'm afraid that I do, Professor." He glanced back at Vargas. "Alejandro here owes an obscene amount of money to Lysandre Labs and has yet to deliver on even one of his promises to us."

Oak glanced down at Vargas with a scathing glare. "Alejandro Vargas is merely the science director of this facility. He had no authority to promise anything to anyone." I caught Oak glance towards me for half a moment, but his gaze went back to Vargas immediately. "Nor did he have the authority to sell live specimens to trainers."

Lysandre's scowl deepened. "Then we do have a problem," he said. "Because I cannot leave without being made whole. The terms of my investment were clear and payment is required."

Vargas looked up at Lysandre as he burst out of his chair. "You can't—"

Lysandre backhanded Vargas across the face, silencing him immediately and knocking him back into the chair. "I can and I will have what I was promised." He turned his head back to face Oak and I saw that it was a mask of relative calm. "I invested an obscene amount in this venture and I cannot leave without payment."

"How much," Oak asked calmly. "I can make you whole, give your investment back to you free of penalty."

His scowl returned and I saw his eyes shift to analytically scanning us. "That is not why I am here," he said.

"I know," Oak replied. "You're just here to assault my employee and commit theft of my scientific property." He folded his arms and I was stunned by the confident calm that Oak exuded. It was the unenviable calm of a man who had lived an entire life in the public eye. "I cannot allow that. My offer to make your investment whole stands, though I cannot say for how long."

Lysandre narrowed his eyes. He was silent for a moment, as though he were weighing his options. I didn't like it. He seemed too much like a cornered pokemon, too much like he was just waiting for violence to break out. "I accept," he said quietly. "If my investment is recouped, then I shall consider the matter settled."

"Then it is settled." Oak unfolded his arms and cracked a smile. I felt myself exhale and realized I'd been holding my breath. "To good business," Oak said.

Lysandre nodded, though he refused to smile back. "To good business," he said. He strode up to Oak, holding out a hand to shake. "I trust that you are as good as your word."

"Better," Oak replied as he shook Lysandre's hand. "Your company will receive its payment within the week."

He nodded in reply. The separated and he glanced at Karen and Will. "Shall we depart?" he asked.

Neither Karen nor Will moved a muscle. Lysandre shifted his gaze from one mercenary to another. "I have been outbid then," he said. "No matter, there are other soldiers of fortune willing to accept my pay." He turned and stormed from the room without another word.

Oak crossed the room, helping Vargas up out of the chair. "Are you alright, boy?"

"I'll live," he said, gently touching his bruised cheek. "Thank you."

The old Champion scowled. "Save it," he said curtly. "You've been busy."

Vargas seemed to go pale. "I needed more funding to expand the tyrunt program. You refused my initial request so I had to—"

"You had to get into bed with a ruthless businessman like him?"

Vargas hung his head. "I had no options," he said. "I could find no others in Indigo willing to lose money on Sawtooth and I needed more than you would give me."

Oak shook his head. "I told you to move slowly. But you refused to listen. Even worse, you actively went around me to get what you wanted."

"But I—"

"And worst of all, you sold off revived fossils to the highest bidder."

Vargas went pale. "I… I… I…"

Oak scowled at the younger man. "How many did you sell?"

"Fourteen," he replied. "Two aerodactyl, a few anorith and lileep, and an omanyte."

Oak sighed and gently rubbed his temples. "While I appreciate your eagerness for an opportunity, we were not to sell any specimens until we had perfected our craft."

Vargas hung his head. "I understand," he looked up and met Oak's gaze. "I'll tender my resignation if that's what you want."

"It is not," Oak replied. He shook his head and a jovial grin slowly crept across his face. "I regret that this happened, but the fact is that you are the only person I would trust at the head of this project. You have the passion and the knowledge necessary to succeed, but perhaps not the business acumen." Oak put a hand on Vargas' shoulder. "I will be back, after I've escorted Mr. Wright to my lab." He glanced back at me and then back at Vargas. "I have some business with him to attend to, but I can come back and help you get Sawtooth in order."

Vargas looked as if he were on the edge of tears. "I don't know what to say, Professor." He smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

"Everyone should get a chance to learn from their mistakes. It matters what we do when we have done something wrong."

Oak turned and looked over at me. "Ready to go?" he asked. "We can be leave for my lab from Cinnabar in the morning."

My eyes widened for a moment as I found my voice. "That offer still stands?

"Of course," he replied. He frowned slightly. "While I do not like that you are in the possession of an aerodactyl from Sawtooth, I must admit that you have an admirable bond with her. Aerodactyl can be vicious creatures, but your Artemis is very clearly protective of you. It would be a shame to rip her away, when your training has seemed to do so much good for her."

I smiled honestly. "Thank you, sir. I was worried that I'd have to give her up." I felt a pain in my chest as my mind went to Acolyte and the knowledge that I'd soon be leaving him behind. "I know that sometimes that's what's best for them. I'd have been okay with it, eventually anyways."

Vargas stepped forward. "If I may interrupt," he started.

Oak looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

"I did promise Marcus a reward if he helped me catch Alicia and stop her from sabotaging me." He frowned and looked over at her. "I sent him off on a hunt without telling him what was going on."

Oak shook his head. "Of course," he replied in an unimpressed tone. "What did you promise him?"

Alejandro visibly cringed as he looked at me. "I promised him the tyrunt that killed most of the pack. The big angry one." He looked back at Oak, waiting for his disapproval.

Oak looked over at me, as if he were actually considering it. He shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Ah, what the hell?" He looked back at Alejandro. "It's not a bad idea, all things considered. He's done well with Artemis, stands to reason he might be alright with a tyrunt."

Alejandro nodded excitedly. "I can bring him up to speed in some basics. I have my video diaries and I can send them to him." He looked over at me. "It'll be more dangerous than Artemis, but you should be alright with my help."

I looked at Vargas and then at Oak. I nodded slowly, trying not to let my excitement overtake me. "I'd be happy to take him in," I said. "If that's fine with the both of you."

"I'll get him ready to be sent over," Alejandro said with a smile. "Along with all of my notes. Trust me, you'll need them."

Oak nodded. He raised a pokeball and released an alakazam in front of me. "Well then," he started. He held out a hand. "If you would be so kind. We can be back to Cinnabar in time for a late dinner."

His alakazam held out one arm, beckoning for us to take the spoon he held in his hand.

I held out my hand, placing it on the spoon. Janine placed her hand over mine without a word. Oak stepped closer and grabbed the other spoon. The world twisted and blinked away.

I landed on sandy ground, my knees shaking slightly. The happy music of vacation greeted our ears and the glorious sounds of party filled the air. Janine stumbled into me, catching on my shoulders. I stepped back, steadying myself as Janine held on for a moment long in a tight hug.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For not dying."

I held her tight. Her mother's dying promise came swimming to the forefront. I choked up for a moment. "It'll take more than a tyrantrum to kill me."

Oak returned his alakazam to its ball and smiled happily at us. "I'll come calling for you in the morning, Mister Wright." He turned, walking away towards the main buildings. "Enjoy the resort!"

I looked back at Janine as he left. She smiled at me and nodded towards the tiki bar down on the beach. "I believe we have a bar to empty," she said. "We shouldn't keep Marcel and Maurice waiting."

I nodded and grinned. "To a good night," I said.

"To a great night," she replied.

We walked off towards the bar, her arm hooking into mine. We sat down at the bar and set to our task of emptying the bar of all its liquor.


I pulled open the door to our room, beckoning Janine in. "After you, milady," I said in an over exaggerated tone.

She snickered and walked through the door, kicking off her shoes haphazardly. She leaned back against the wall and smiled at me happily. I felt my heart skip another beat and my promise to her dying mother surfaced again.

"I gotta—"

She stood up off the wall as I closed the door and kissed me aggressively. I kissed her back, knowing that it wouldn't make what I had to do any easier.

She pulled back and looked over at the bathroom. "I gotta piss," she said suddenly.

I chuckled. "How ladylike," I said with a grin.

She flipped me the bird and turned, disappearing into the bathroom. She shut the door behind her and I heard her sit down heavily on the toilet.

I slowly walked into the room and lay back on our bed, clumsily landing on top of the covers. I stared blankly up at the ceiling as the prospect of the coming conversation sank in.

"Noooo ," Janine squealed as she opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. She tore her sundress over her head and jumped onto the bed beside me, clad in just a purple bra and underwear. "I thought we were—"

"I have to tell you something," I said. I turned to look at her, my troubled emotions worn clearly on my face. "It's something really important and I don't know how I'm supposed to talk to you about it."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "That sounds ominous," she replied.

I looked down and frowned. "I made a promise in Sevii. Your mother… she was begging me to promise her, and she was dying." I shook my head. "How do you say no to someone who's dying in front of you?"

Janine's expression went cold and hard. "What did she make you promise?" she asked quietly.

"She said that you were ignoring the concerns of the other clans. That they would never accept a Ranger at your side instead of a true Fuchsian."

She shook her head and sat up straight. I felt her go cold and stuff, her attitude changing over a moment. "So you promised that you'd leave me."

I went silent, simply nodding in response. I felt ashamed and sad and furious at myself all at once. My heart was pounding and I could feel it aching with every beat.

"So that's it then," she said without a trace of emotion. "A dead woman's demand and I have no say in the matter?"

"I don't know what you—"

"I want you!" she burst out. "All I wanted was you. You made me happy in a really fucking dark time and now I find out that it was all on a timer anyways." She shook her head. "I expected better out of you, Marcus. I don't know why, but I expected better."

"What am I supposed to do then? Go back on a promise? To a dead person?"

She scowled. "Given how your own journey started, I thought you'd understand." She shook her head. "I thought you understood that we don't have to be what our parents wanted. I thought you knew that they didn't have to run our lives?"

She stood up and stepped back, looking down at me. I felt her shock and anger resonate in every word. "Everyone I love leaves me. Everyone I love in the world dies when I need them the most." She stepped back again, shaking her head as she tried and failed to hold back tears. "First Lori, then father, then mother…" she trailed off and sobbed as she looked at me with complete betrayal. "I thought you were different, that this was different. But it's just… it's just…"

I finally found my courage, rising to my feet as I stepped towards her. "Janine," I started, taking her by the hips. She looked at me and I felt raw embarrassment twisting in my gut. "It was wrong to make a promise regarding you without even contemplating your reaction to it." I shook my head. "We both rejected what our parents wanted for us. We both found our own path and found each other on it…" I trailed off, trying not to get lost in her eyes. "I love you too, Janine. Maybe it took too long for me to understand that." I cracked a weak smile and so did she. "Maybe I'm just a big dumb idiot sometimes,"

I stepped closer and pulled her close to me. "I love you, Janine. We'll make our own way. Just like we always have."

She crashed against me, sending the both of us down to the bed. I kissed her deeply and the world was right again. All the weight was lifted off of me and we were finally free.


Pokedex Entry # 697 - Tyrantrum

This saurian therapod was the undisputed ruler of its ancient world. It is the largest known land-based carnivore and would have undoubtedly remained so had the asteroid that wiped out most life not landed. However, it is extinct and only two known specimens have been revived from fossils.

The aggressive nature of this species means that it will likely never be considered for widespread revival. There are some theories that suggest it is capable of deeper family bonds than these creature's violent disposition would suggest, but they are regarded as fringe opinions.



Intermediate Trainer KT#07996101

Indigo Ranger Corps, Special Task Group, "Zapdos" Squad,

Corporal SN# 109-512-6591, Marcus Wright, current team:

Luna, Ninetales

Artemis, Aerodactyl

Acolyte, Marowak

Two, Porygon-2

Curie, Chansey
 
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Pronouns
he/him
Partners
  1. luxio
Hi, here from the Review Roulette, going to be reviewing chapter 1!

Normally I would be fully caught-up on Journey, but I don't think I've read anything past chapter 24, so this might just be the push I need to get back on track. :quag:

The hallway was dank and dark. It smelled like sweat and blood, crude reminders of what it would take to actually accomplish my goal. There was no noise of the crowd, no searing lights for the cameras, just an old loudspeaker that crackled and fizzed as it spat out its call.

I admittedly have read, like, zero other journeyfics out there, so maybe this is common, but I do really like that this isn't some giant, televised super big deal thing with a huge audience. that's part of why I hate gen 8 lmfao

and then more than half a starter training loan in pursuit of this dream

:eyes: I don't remember if this is ever expanded upon further in the story (probably not, because, well...... everything else is a little bit more important than trying to save money lol) but it does make for a neat little bit of worldbuilding.

Like hell I was going back there as anything other than champion.

If he's ever going back at all. :copyka:

The battlefield was a mess of rocks and sandy dunes, with a single massive rock that had been hollowed out serving as the arena's centrepiece. Many a challenger had attempted to use the hollow network of tunnels and chambers to their advantage and found themselves outclassed by an enemy that knew every corner of the arena as if it were their homes.

Again, maybe this is common practice in other fics, but I love that the Gym fields aren't just..... flat, like they are in literally every piece of official pokemon media.

The referee's voice boomed out through the loudspeakers and I flinched visibly. It was louder than I'd expected.

well I mean it's called a loudspeaker :mewlulz:

Luna leapt atop the cracked stone slab, hunting for a suitable crack. She found one within seconds, all while we could hear the geodude angrily struggling to break free. She puffed her chest out and inhaled deeply. A torrent of flame poured from my little vulpix, superheating the slab of rock and melting the sand beneath.

fuck yeah creative and unorthodox strats!!!! :letsgorb: love to see this kind of shit

Brock's prized onix appeared with and earthshaking roar. She tossed back her pale green tinted head and screeched a defiant challenge as she stretched up to her full height. I knew what to expect. Shale was Brock's pride and joy, bred from the titanic onix that fought on Brock's championship team. She was a pale green, almost twelve feet long, flecks of silver metal running through the boulders that made up her serpentine body. It was a side effect of her parentage, something to do with being the offspring of Brock's first onix and Galar's Raihan's prized duraludon.

.....considering what goes on later in the fic, will this Onix be relevant again? :copyka:

---

Good first chapter! (admittedly I might be a little biased because I've read most of the rest of this fic, so yeah naturally it's good lol, but also I am a huge fan of action and fighting in fics, so bonus points from me! :okgon: ) Keep up the good work! Hopefully I'll be able to catch up with the fic pretty soon! :letsgorb:
 

Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
Pronouns
He/Him/His
Partners
  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. quilava-fobbie
  5. sneasel-kate
Heya, here for Review Roulette, since I did say the rules were that you had to review at least one of the two fics rolled. Sounded like as good a reason as any to jump back into yours.

I’ll be taking a look at your Genesect-themed one-shot, since I remembered you having quite a ball with it when you were originally writing it a while back, so I decided to poke my head in and see what the hubbub was all about.

Born, Rebuilt

The sky burns red like it is day even though the sun set hours ago. Streams of fire trail through the smoking sky and the air feels hot on my carapace.

Oh, so we’re in the immediate aftermath of an impact event. Probably. Maybe. If that’s really what’s going on I can already tell that this scene is going to go places in short order.
:fearfullaugh~1:


My den-mate shifts at my side, her attention turning to me and away from the other Scythe-Arms standing at the ready.

I’m assuming that those would be Kabutops. Since they are fossilmons that fit the bill there.

She sings a worrisome note, full of passion and regret. It shifts down lower and becomes a threatening chitter as the forest rumbles with violent tremors.

I chirp acknowledgement and echo her threat, raising my scythes as our foe makes himself known.

Can’t tell whether this is a fakeout opening/protagonist, or if this is an interpretation of what Genesect used to be like back in the day. But all in due time, I suppose.

Strong-Jaw, King of the Beasts, barrels through the trees, splintering and knocking aside trunks that have stood since before I was hatched.

Ah yes, Tyrantrum. Clever incorporation of its ‘dex Category there, since it works fairly well for a moniker like this.

We have warred with Strong-Jaw and his young for ages. He ignores our closed ranks and bared scythes, panting desperately as he ran straight past our formation.

You have some verb tense mixing here, IMO you should pick one or the other of “ignores” and “runs” or “ignored” and “ran”, since something about this current mixture feels a little weird.

I watch him go. He is alone, none of the young that terrorize our nests are with him. His hide is charred in places, completely burned away in others. I did not notice at first, but he limps with every step.

Protag:
Image

“*Sounds like as good a time as any to finally kill that ugly mother-*”

I chirp a warning at my den-mate, at the other Scythe-Arms. I am drowned out by the agonizing roar of the sky.

Protag: “*... That’s not supposed to happen, is it?*”
:uhhh:


It falls across the sky, fire and light trailing behind it and bathing our den by the river in red warmth. Smoke obscures it for a moment. A flash of light in the smoke shook the ground.

I feel the wave of heat and earth roll over me. Then I feel nothing but darkness.

Isn’t darkness something that you specifically see? Maybe I’m nitpicking but I think the more correct construction would be something along the lines of “Then everything is plunged into darkness and I feel nothing at all.” or something like that.

Protag: “*... Definitely not supposed to happen.*” X_X

Darkness like the blackest night. Vibrations like songs through water. It drains off my body like a river does. Vibrations like voices through air.

I do not understand the vibrations. They are sour, the wrong notes. I raise my scythe, but the blade on my arm is gone.

Dude’s in a cloning vat right now, isn’t he? Though that’s certainly a trippy way of depicting what I presume are human voices.

Darkness falls and night takes me again. I thrash but something holds me down. I feel the cold liquid rising up my unfamiliar body. It is wrong, sharp and has hard angles where soft sweeping curves should be. I thrash and struggle once more as the liquid pours past my mandibles and down my gullet.

Wow, two scenes in and we’re already getting into body horror. This special episode really is going places. ^^;

Exhaustion takes me with the cold and sleep returns. I dream of rushing streams and leafy green trees that never end.

401083507872366598.png


Alexa, play Despacito-

Protag: “*Shut up and take my plight seriously right now!*”
:seviAAAAAAAAAAA:


Darkness like blackest night. Vibrations like songs through water. The liquid drains from my body again, changing the sounds with its absence. I know they are voices now. Something feels different. It tells me that the voices are speaking to me. I open my eyes and see nothing but blurry figures.

I do not understand the voices, though I understand their intent and tones. They are proud and yet frustrated. The notes still feel sour, and make me feel like I have eaten something fouled by the sun.

It might be nitpicking again, I think that it probably makes more sense to compare protag’s feeling of these voices that are apparently “nails on chalkboard”-tier for him to the feeling of eating spoiled food, since the two aren’t really things that can be directly compared to each other as-is.

I do not trust the sour notes. I raise my scythe and remember that it is gone. It is cold and sharp and shorter than it should be. A predator must have damaged it. Strong-Jaw, before the sky-fire, or the sky-fire itself.

Well, I suppose he’s technically not wrong, even if he’s not zeroing in on the right predator right now.

Darkness returns and I feel the disappointment in the voices. I feel the cold liquid returning, splashing off a carapace that is harder and colder than it should be. Exhaustion returns as it drowns me and the dreams are not so as sweet as before.

Protag:
AQzXuN5.gif


Darkness like blackest night fades as the tube slides open. I feel the thick liquid falling off my metal carapace and can feel the vibrations of voices shift in response.

I can understand the vibrations. They are the wrong notes but they are greeting me. The notes sound like Rock-Dwellers, from near the mouth of the river. I do not trust the Rock-Dwellers. They keep to themselves and prefer the long poison water that none can drink.

The ‘Rock-Dwellers’, huh? Not sure what those are, but will be paying attention to the rest of this scene to try and pick up some hints.

I see the creatures outside of the open tube. They are strange, shorter than I am and utterly nonthreatening. They have no claws, no fangs, no fire or lightning. They stand on two legs and I can feel their voices behind the Rock-Dwellers'.

de7.png


Since, yeah. Being seen as “utterly nonthreatening” by your own bioweapons totally has never ended in disaster on a repeated basis. Totally.

I try to take a step, unfamiliar joints creaking in the cold as I move them for the first time. I fall and my metal carapace slams hard against the glass of the tube. I try to rise but something heavy and wide on my back keeps me off balance.

Yeah, now that you mention it, a lot of Genesect’s design would probably be a serious PITA to have to live with as an actual living being unless if you’re just drugged out of your mind or don’t know any better for it.

I cry out and my voice screams in sour, rancid notes. It is wrong. My stomach churns and revolts at the sound of my own voice but there is nothing in my stomach. I draw my scythe-less arms close and realize that I am unsure if I even have a stomach anymore. My body is no longer my own.

And cue the murderous rampage a la that one part of Robocop 2 in about 30 seconds.

The voices are urgent, shouting to each other. I can feel their panic through the sour notes. It fills me with fear. I must escape.

Sure is a good thing that you didn’t have strong Pokémon standing at the ready to scorch Protag into slag for a moment like this, eh, oblivious scientists?

I thrust my arm forward but it does not possess the strength it should. My arm glances off a clear barrier between myself and the strange Two-Legs. The tube slams shut and darkness like blackest night returns. I bite and slash and bash my heavy, metal carapace against the barrier but it does not give.

Thick, cold liquids slosh around my feet, climbing higher by the second. I feel it drain the strength from my legs and I collapse into the frothy mess.

I cannot help my eyes from closing. Blackest night takes me and I dream of a fiery sky.

Well this is an absolutely terrible omen for the life expectancies of everyone in this laboratory.

Blackest night recedes. The songs are angry now. The Two-Legs chatter back at each other. I watch carefully. I must learn before I escape.

The Two-Legs are Kings of this place. They have me in a tube. My body has changed. I am unsure of why. The cold makes it difficult to think.

I kinda wonder if as part of the “Kings of this place” bit, that it might make sense to show off more of what Protag/Genesect’s perception of a “King” is. Since if his perception is “big, vicious predator like Strong-Jaw”, it might have been worth playing up how alien it is for Protag to come to the conclusion that “the squishy, seemingly defenseless Two-Legs are the lords of this place, and I can’t even attack them properly like I could with Strong-Jaw”. Along with any feelings/resentments/etc. Protag would feel as a result of it.

A great metal beast roars into the room. I feel its roar in my carapace, feel the vibrations with no song in them. It lowers the long metal tusks on its face and spears the bottom of the tube, lifting it off the base it sits upon. The liquids drain from the tube and I hear them splash against the ground.

Oh, so it’s a Durant there. Or at least I think it’s a Durant. Also, I’m pretty sure this is all sorts of a terrible idea right now since this is breaking a Genesect out of containment.

I hear the Rock-Dwellers again. I know it is the Two-Legs. They mask their sour songs with the Rock-Dwellers'. They ask me to be calm. I pretend to be and do not move.

Ah yes, your living weapons platform has already learned to deceive you. Fantastic progress, chaps.
:fearfullaugh~1:


The metal beast turns as it lifts me and carries the tube from the room. The beast does not breathe, but it does roar and rumble and breathe smoky air. I lie in wait and keep my wary eyes on the Tusk-Beast. It carries me into a large chamber carved from stone.

… Okay, that sounds like something pretty different from a Durant. Even if I have no idea what on earth the thing is.

The Tusk-Beast sets me down and turns to leave. I hear it go as it rumbles out of my view. The Tusk-Beast finally rumbles out of view and I hear a heavy rumble and grind. Then silence falls and the tube opens.

I step out of my tube, sniffing at the air. It tastes damp and stale and the cold makes me feel lethargic. I shake the exhaustion from my mind and listen intently. The Tusk-Beast brought me heat for a reason.

Protag: “*I mean, it might have been so that way it could amuse itself in my suffering, but let’s try and stay positive right now…*” >_>;

I can hear the poison water. Great rumbling of tides and currents crash against something in the distance. Then I hear it.

Oh, so “poison water” is supposed to be seawater... I think. I kinda wonder if there should’ve been more throwaway hints as to what the nature of this “poison water” was earlier. e.x. some passing mention of it lacking something that non-"poison" water would have or something like that.

Pebbles and rocks shift. I hear the harsh scrape of claws and a threatening metallic song fills the air.

Protag: “...”
916590486356131850.png


My enhanced senses find the source. It is as large as I am, built from menacing black metal and covered in metal points. Its song is threatening, but also scared.

Oh, so this is a custom prototype ‘mon that was built alongside Genesect? Or is this supposed to be something concrete and canonical?

I sing a calm note, but my changed voice sours the song. It enrages the Metal-Point and I feel its terror swell in the creature's song.

Metal-Point:
giphy.gif

Protag:
giphy.gif

“*Wh-What’s even going on right now?!*”

A long, loud note sounds out. It is mechanical in nature. There is no song, just the note. Then it ends and a muted song, with hidden notes begins.

I hear the Rock-Dwellers-who-are-Two-Legs sing again. They tell me to attack the Metal-Point from afar. They want me to kill Metal-Point with fire and lightning and ice and water.

Protag: “*I’m sorry, but what the actual-?*”
:grohno~1:


I do not understand. Scythe-Arms do not attack from afar. Scythe-Arms slash and bash and fight foes in reach of our scythes.

Protag: “*And I can’t use those elements you’re talking about!*”
:uhhh:


As if by its own volition, I feel my carapace shifting. Something heavy and unwieldy emerges from my own body. I cannot turn and see what it is. It is a part of me and I can feel it extending.

Protag: “*... That came out sounding lewder than I intended, but regardless is extremely uncomfortable and probably more than a little embarrassing.*”

Metal-Point shrieks a terrified song. It is afraid of me. I understand that fear. I am afraid of me as well. I try to sing a reassuring song. I cannot hurt Metal-Point if it stays away.

Scientists:
bender-laughing.gif

Protag: “*Wait, but how on earth would I-?*” .-.

Metal-Point loses itself to its fear and sings an angry song. It runs at me and raises its arm-blades. I cry in warning. I do not want to hurt Metal-Point.

That… feels like it’s a pretty big detail about Metal-Point that was never communicated prior to this point. You probably want to have some point where Protag/Genesect definitively sees this since it was honestly hard to get a read on what Metal-Point was supposed to look like already.

My head screams and something takes control of my body. I scream and fight but I do not move. My body ignores my mind and Metal-Point draws closer.

Protag: “*I-I’m telling you, I don’t want to hurt you! J-Just stay away from me!*”

I feel the appendage on my back shifting, aiming at Metal-Point. I feel the fire and lightning and ice and water surge inside of me. It flies free in a beam of crackling power.

Protag: “*Wait, I can do that now?! How on earth is that even-?!*”
:grohno~1:


When the beam of fire and lightning and ice and water dies, Metal-Point is gone. There is a puddle of grey and black on the floor where it stood. I am scared. I do not understand. Scythe-Arms cannot do this. Scythe-Arms do not do this.

Scientist #1: “... Did you say ‘scythe-arm’? See, now you’re ‘cannon-back’. Bit of an upgrade, don’t you think?”
:joltyshrug~1:


I feel my brain buzz with noise and vibration, then the darkness like blackest night returns. I dream of poison water and Two-Legs who wear Rock-Dwellers' voices.

Wait, so does Protag/Genesect literally have an off/killswitch built into him? Since he sure has a tendency to just abruptly conk out and lapse out of consciousness quickly.

Darkness like blackest night recedes. I am back inside my tube. The Two-Legs are watching me. Their songs are quiet but I hear the vibration through the tube.

Scientist #2:
giphy.gif

Protag: “*Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts!*”
:uhhh:


My tube opens. I am still in the big chamber. The ocean sings, muffled through rock and distance. Two-Legs with Rock-Dwellers' voices tell me to leave the tube.

I listen to the songs and reluctantly emerge from my prison. There is no Metal-Point. There is no puddle.

Protag: “*... I don’t want to know what I did to him, do I?*”
:fearfullaugh~1:


The songs tell me to fly. I bristle at the suggestion. Scythe-Arms cannot fly. We have no wings and we are heavy.

Scientists:
iu

Protag: “*Oh dear gods, what did you little ape-freaks do to me?!*”
:grohno~1:


The song asks again, more insistent.

I chirp a frustrated answer.

The songs ask me over again. They are frustrated with me. They tell me to fly or they will make me fly.

I can see why Genesect canonically trashed the lab he was created in, since… yeah. I’d have a pretty strong hate-on of humans after all this myself.

I do not understand. I cannot fly. I open my mouth to sing an answer and my brain stops. Fuzzy indifference takes my mind. I feel my body twisting and moving, slotting together in unfamiliar ways. I feel myself lift off the ground though I do not know how.

The fuzzy sensation takes over and I do not fight as control of my own body is taken from me. I feel my body moving. It is clumsy, like a hatchling is. I crash to the ground and my metal carapace makes loud scraping noises.

Oh hey, it’s like the prime directives from Robocop, except they can be triggered on a whim to turn Protag/Genesect into a (partly) meat puppet.

The songs return. They tell me to fly or they will make me. I do not understand. The fuzzy indifference returns and I do not fight as my consciousness slips away. I feel my body flying and soaring but I do not care.

The Two-Legs make me fly until I they are done. They make me return to the tube and the darkness like blackest night returns.

Protag:
AQzXuN5.gif


The darkness lifts as my tube opens. I am ready this time. I hear the songs that the Two-Legs sing but I do not care.

I fold and snap and crunch my body into a strange shape so that I can fly. I soar and turn so that I do not crash into the wall. My changed body can take the impact but I do not wish to test my durability.

Fuzzy confusion fills my brain. I do not see the wall coming. I crash hard and land on the cold rocky ground. My body unfolds and I lay still.

Protag: “*... Ow.*”
916590105391681538.png


Two-Legs' songs return. They are furious. They did not expect that I would try to escape. I feel my brain slowing down and can see darkness returning.

Really now? You seriously had no idea that this was something that might potentially happen when you had to increasingly turn manual override on your living weapon on for like the last 3 scenes to get him to do anything?

I try to rise. I struggle and fight with limbs that bend in wrong directions and snap together in strange ways. I fall again and darkness creeps further in.

I fight the darkness this time. I must remain awake. I must escape this place. I must see the sky and the sea and my den-mate. I force my feet to remain underneath me and haul myself up on arms without scythes.

Um, yeah… about that, Genesect…

Protag: “*I… mean, my mate is probably going to run off screaming from me seeing me like this, but it’s the thought that counts?*”
:fearfullaugh~1:


I hear metal grating on metal and an angry rhythm of footfalls. They come from around the corner, the Two-Legs bearing metal tubes.

>attempting to subdue a Genesect with small arms

Image


My mind clicks into place and the darkness fades. I feel the fuzzy confusion slip away and razor sharp focus replaces it.

I am different. I am not Scythe-Arms. I must fight like I am different.

Whelp, time for this lab to get a lovely new coat of red paint dabbled onto it.

I feel my back open and the contraption within slide out. I know what it is now. It is unwieldy and large but I know what to do with it. I think of using fire and lightning and ice and water and think of it leaving a puddle of Two-Legs.

Uh, yeah. I kinda figured we were heading in that direction quickly.

Then the Two-Legs raises his metal tube. I feel the song shake my carapace. I feel the sour, furious notes drive into my head. The sound-tube in Two-Legs' hands makes me fall, my legs bending and bowing under the vibration of sound.

Well, whatever the guy was shooting can’t be that good of a bullet given that we’re not hearing Protag describing feeling pain shooting through various body parts right about now. Assuming his new body is even wired to allow him to sense pain like that.

I drop to one knee as fire and lighting and ice and water erupts from the cannon on my back. It hits the ceiling and tears through to the sky. I see rock and dust fall from the ceiling and feel the impact of it through my carapace.

I see sunlight for a brief moment. It is happy and hopeful and I try to fly to it. But my body refuses to bend and snap into place and I cannot walk. The Two-Legs' sound-tube is too powerful. Darkness returns and I let it take me once more.

Protag: “*D-Dammit… I was so close…*”
401083507872366598.png


He strode through the doors, one of the Shadow Triad leading him deeper into the facility. He brushed his long green hair from his eyes and followed the mysterious shinobi.

The island had been little more than an inhospitable rock in the middle of the ocean, but Plasma had bigger plans for it. Even he, King of Team Plasma, knew little of what happened here. This was Father's island, his place to experiment on ways to aid him with their grand plan.

N: “I should probably be more bothered that we’re doing this to facilitate Pokémon liberation, but… it’s for the greater good?” ^^;

He had been told to disregard anything that he saw here that seemed contrary to his beliefs. That the island and the experiments don't underneath it were essential to Plasma's dreams of worldwide pokemon liberation. However, as the doors to the lower labs opened, N couldn't help but shake the sense that something was completely and utterly wrong.

de7.png


I mean, I could absolutely buy Ghetsis being arrogant enough to take that line of reasoning with N, but it’s definitely blunt and the sort of train of thought that would get him to start harboring doubts about his whole enterprise.

The tube does not open as I wake. I gently touch the tube with one shortened forelimb and listen deeply to the song. It is different than before. Hesitant and supplicant.

Wait, so that’s just bare glass at the moment, isn’t it?

I retract my arm. They are inattentive for the moment. I will have only moments before my venture is discovered. Moments before the Two-Legs force the darkness back upon me.

My back splits apart and the cannon within unfolds. I aim it up, where I know that the sky is. I feel the fire and lightning and ice and water surge within me, feel the rage and hatred for my imprisonment. I look up and I blast the world above me with power that no Scythe-Arms has ever known.

- Meanwhile 10 stories up, a death lazor slices through the lab in full view of N -
N: “... I’m sorry, was that a laser that just fired from the lab there?” .-.
Shadow Triad #1: “... Probably just technical difficulties, my king.”
:joltyshrug~1:


The tube melts around me as the rock and metal above simply ceases to be. I hear furious, desperate songs and sweep my ire across the white-walled chamber. It melts at the touch of fire and lightning and ice and water and I paint the room with deadly colour.

Puddles of Two-Legs are all that I leave in my wake. Fury and hatred block out their songs as I compose my own symphony. It is glorious. It is right. Revenge is not a concept I am born with, but the Two-Legs have taught it to me in their cruelty.

Whelp, it took a while, but Protag has indeed given the labs a new red paint job from that description.

The roof falls down on the puddles of Two-Legs I leave behind. I can hear their songs of terror grow louder, can taste the end of their sour notes as I silence them entirely.

Then I hear it. The ocean sings in the distance, muffled by crackling fire and deafening explosions. I point the cannon on my back at where I know the sky should be. I let my fury guide me and carve a path through layer upon layer of rock and metal.

- Meanwhile outside, N is watching laser shots slice through the lab roof as screams sound out in the distance -
N: “... I’m sorry, what did we say that this lab was doing here again?” .-.
Shadow Triad #2: “Important work for Pokémon liberation, that… uh… very clearly needs some time to sort out its problems with us far, far away from it for a while.”
:fearfullaugh~1:


Two-Legs retaliate now, with sound-tubes and metal monsters that look like I do. The Copy-Scythes lumber towards me as the Two-Legs take up firing positions in the rooms above me. I cut off the instrument of my wrath and turn my attention away from the ceiling.

Oh, so there’s multiple Genesect in this continuity like in the anime.

I dash out of the way of a hammer of sound on jets that propel me into a pair of the Copy-Scythes. They do not sing, do not vibrate with life. They are not like me. Not alive.

Can’t tell if the implication is supposed to be that they’ve been successfully broken or are being puppeteered, but boy is that an eerie vibe in light of how much fight Protag has been putting up.

The first tries to unfold its cannon. I do not let it. Empty metal clatters to the ground. My attention shifts to the second and it falls to my rage as well.

Wouldn’t have expected the other Genesect to job this hard to another, but I suppose that that’s life in a setting with “one and done” battles.

The sound hammer returns as more Two-Legs shoot me with sound-tubes, dropping me to all four limbs. My mind fights the deafening song but I can feel my body failing. My vision fades and all I can hear is the chorus of sound as it pummels me into the ground.

I do not have time. The Two-Legs will kill me. I must stop them. I must escape.

inb4 he does a spinny beam spam thing on all fours that collapses a good chunk of the surrounding lab.

I aim my cannon vaguely up and guess at where the Two-Legs are firing from. I will have only one chance. I feel the raw power of fire and lightning and ice and water surge through me and I hope that my aim is true.

Or he could do that. Though I guess we’ll see how this pans out for him pretty fast.

He wrenched the door open, the shadow triad stepping through with his blade drawn. They needed to reach the surface before whatever set off the facility alarms caught up to him. Plasma needed its King more than it needed whatever he had been sent here for.

Shadow Triad #3: “My King, why are we here right now?!”
N: “Look, it’s really obvious that a Pokémon is causing all of this somehow, so just let me do my thing to calm it a bit.” >_>;

N moved to follow the shinobi, but a wave of raw hatred and fury washed over him. Confusion wracked his mind for a moment. Then he understood.

Pokemon were open to him. Like reading a book, or listening to a song, he could sense their emotions or feel the intent in their minds. Father had called him an Empath once. He said that N was attuned to pokemon rather than humans and that was why he had taken the boy in and placed him atop Plasma's throne. That it was his gift that made their dreams of pokemon liberation a possibility.

Oh, so that how you justified N’s ability to understand Pokémon in this setting. So he’s basically a human Lucario minus the battling abilities and being less of a manlet.

What he sensed now was that empathy picking up on vengeful presence. He felt the hatred, felt the fury. But he also felt the confusion and fear, the horror of a pokemon's soul in utter distress.

N: “Seriously, what the hell have you all been doing here?” >_>;
Shadow Triad #1: “... Making strong warriors for the ends of Pokémon liberation?”
:fearfullaugh~1:

Shadow Triad #2: “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

He looked up, intending to say something to the shinobi. He never got a chance. The stairwell simply ceased to be, destructive energy tearing through rebar reinforced concrete as if it were paper. The shinobi was gone, leaving naught but a steaming puddle that sloughed into an open pit behind.

And then Team Plasma had a Shadow Duo... unless they replaced the Shadow Triad member there that just became a puddle of ruddy goop later on.

N peered down the hole as frantic shouting filled the underground chamber. Deafening blasts of raw sound echoed from below, along with an artificial roar of fury.

He could feel it. Pain and confusion mixing with fear in a primordial soup of emotion. Vengeance bubbled from the hatred and N knew that something terrible was happening. A pokemon was in trouble. It was in pain and crying out for a mate that would never come.

N: “... Why do I suspect that this is happening precisely because nobody here bothered to inform this Pokémon about that?” >_>;

N's choice was made. He would not abandon a pokemon in need. Not now, not ever. Not as long as he was King. Not as long as he still drew breath.

- Cue various human screams and death rattles coming up from the underlevels to N’s ears -
N: “I suppose all the dying people are a bad thing too, but time to go and help calm that poor enraged Pokémon!”

Two-Legs fall all around me as the upper levels begin to collapse. I dispatch them all before they can find their sound-tubes. My scythes are gone, but my arms are still sharp. I enjoy the violence. It feels familiar. It feels normal.

Protag: “*BURN, BABY BURN!*”
384521039574597632.png


My jets fire again, lifting me away from the retaliation from the Two-Legs still above. I ascend several floors before a hammer of sound crushes me into a wall and out of the line of fire. More Copy-Scythes, more empty shells, land on the floor I am on and lumber towards me.

I unfold my cannon and lay waste to them all. They are empty. They have no song. Like me, except filled with a void like night. I do not spare any of them.

Boy did Team Plasma not build those other Genesect to last. Though they really ought to have done more testing on their killswitches for their bionic killer prehistoric bugs. ^^;

I turn my attention upwards again. There are more Two-Legs with sound-tubes but I know that I can kill them all. I will kill them all and escape. I will be free. I can almost hear the happy song of freedom, can almost taste the fresh air.

I aim my cannon up at the ceiling again and let my wrath carve a path to freedom.

Small nitpick, but IMO if you emphasize Protag’s “will” there, it better sells the sense of “I will have my freedom, and if I have to blow half this island to bits, so be it”

He landed and stumbled as the entire facility groaned and shook. The same beam of destruction tore through the floor, immolating one of the men in lab coats. Then the beam ended and the remaining scientists prepped their weapons.

Shadow Triad Duo #1: “Why on earth was this lab never tested against this to prevent this sort of scenario?!”
:uhhh:

Shadow Triad Duo #2: “... These were wholly unprecedented circumstances?”
:joltyshrug~1:


N had never seen them before, but they looked like strange rifles from something out of a sci-fi movie. One of the scientists fired down into the hole, blasting it with raw sound that forced N to cover his ears even at a distance.

Oh, so the guns legit shoot sound. I… didn’t pick up on that at all in the earlier description, but I guess it makes sense that TP wouldn’t want to shoot up their unholy bionic abominations unless absolutely necessary given that they’re almost certainly not cheap to make.

Then it came. It was a blur of purple-red metal, stained by bloody viscera. The scientist that had been firing into the hole fell back, a gaping wound in his chest.

Shadow Triad Duo #1: “... You know, in retrospect, they probably should’ve distributed live-fire weapons about five trashed floors ago.” .-.

The scientists scattered, a brave few raising their rifles to fire. Whether to buy their colleagues some time or bring down the monster that had killed them, N could not say. But he knew he had to stop it. He could feel the terror radiating from the metal beast, could see its fear turning into hatred. He knew that the creature was a scared and lonely pokemon, lashing out in its confusion.

Scientists: “And what are we? Chopped liver?” >_>;
N: “Considering how it’s almost certainly your own damn faults that this poor Pokémon is like this, yes.
826550123924029450.png


N would stop it. N would stop the violence if it was the last thing he ever did. N would show this creature a different way.

He planted his feet on the cold, corrugated metal. He locked eyes with the metal creature as it levelled the smoking cannon on its back at him. He felt their hearts meet and he spoke.

N: “Here goes nothing…”
:sweats:


The Two-Legs lay dead or run for their lives. Except for the Leaf-Hair. It looked at him, speaking in a low and calming tune. The song was not rancid. It felt like home, like the river and the den he shared with his mate.

Protag: “*... Wait, how are you even doing that?*” .-.
N: “... It’s a talent of mine?”
:joltyshrug~1:


I sing back, my own notes of warning and threat still sour and putrid. But the Leaf-Hair did not flee. Leaf-Hair stood there, singing his own song of forgiveness and regret. Leaf-Hair sang of love and of loss, of finding something new.

Protag: “*... Or I can just turn you into a steaming puddle and go to the sea on my own right now.*”
796822964019527760.png

N: “Uh… well… yes, you could, but one, we’re already surrounded by the sea right now, and you seem to be enjoying my communication, so…”
696809676133892176.png


I join his song. Something new to replace what is lost. Sour notes and perfect tones mix together and a new harmony is born. It is not perfect but I feel kinship stirring in my metal chest.

One of the Two-Legs raises its sound-tube. Leaf-Hair exclaims in fury at the Two-Legs. It drops the sound-tube. I hear more sound-tubes fall to the floor and realize that I had been surrounded.

Smart thinking by N there given that I’m pretty sure everyone in the room would be dead had he hesitated for five seconds longer.

Leaf-Hair turns and beckons for me to follow. I do. Leaf-Hair is a Two-Legs. But Leaf-Hair is different than the Two-Legs who kept me in the tube.

Protag: “*... Wait, why are you so different, anyways?*” .-.
N: “Long story, really. But you’ll come along, won’t you?”

I ponder the difference and Leaf-Hair leads me through the broken den. We twist and turn and climb and I finally see the sky. I taste it and smell it and hear the songs of a world that has passed me by.

N: “Told you we were surrounded by the sea.”
Protag: “*... I’m sorry, and I shouldn’t go back and promptly murder everything in that awful lab over torturing me this close to a place I could’ve called home why?*”

Leaf-Hair sings again and sings of loneliness. He sings of freedom and I look to the open sky.

N: “Also if you go back and finish your revenge fantasies without someone to sweep this under the rug, I’m pretty sure that the Unovan Air Force is going to swoop in and bomb the island out of existence.” ^^;
Protag: “*... None of that meant anything to me.*”
:what:


My body shifts and clanks and snaps together awkwardly. I lift off the ground and I hear the song continue. Leaf-Hair sings of family. He sings of love and of loss. He sings of something new.

I hang there in the air for a long time, listening to Leaf-Hair sing. It is calming. It is peaceful. It is right.

Wow, I can see why Ghetsis sought N out as a tool if he’s capable of doing that.

I set back down on the sandy beach. My body snaps and cracks and changes so that I can stand again. I join Leaf-Hair's song. I sing of peace and calm. I sing of family.

As I sing, I feel at home. My den is gone. My mate is gone. But I do not have to be alone. I do not want to sing alone. Not anymore.

That’s at once adorable and
:eltycrying:
-tier, so congratulations on managing to tug my heartstrings for a blood-spattered bionic abomination that just reduced 20+ people into chunky salsa.

Alright, onto the final recap:

As you can probably gather from the write-up, I liked the piece. It’s obviously a fairly hard-edged story, but it feels like something that’d be a decently believable scenario involving N if Pokémon had some branch of canon that was an out-and-out seinen. You used the first-person perspective really effectively here for this one-shot and get some decent mileage out of showing this poor, disoriented creature trapped in a body horror situation and being poked and prodded by alien beings and how it just progressively wears him down until he snaps and is out for blood and freedom, but especially blood. You also managed to do that while working in some neat worldbuilding in a short and fairly snappy piece, so color me impressed on that front.

As for things I was less hot about, you have some minor grammatical errors and the like littered about your one-shot that you should consider smoothing out with a once-over. On the structural side of things, there were a couple of points where I feel that things weren’t described enough to get a solid read as to what was going on. Now I get that that will happen to an extent since we’re viewing most of this one-shot through the eyes of a Genesect where everything after waking up again after his rez is alien and disorienting to him, but meta-wise you still want enough for readers to have a firm grasp on what’s going on. The sequence involving Metal-Point was probably the biggest offender, since I still can’t tell what on earth Metal-Point was. My assumption is that MP was a Beta Genesect, but that’s admittedly some guesswork on my end.

But all-in-all, good work @Joshthewriter ! Between this and Eternal War, I honestly should get around to checking out the main story of your setting at some point. Since if it’s put together as well as those two stories, it seems like it’d be quite a ride.
 
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Flyg0n

Flygon connoisseur
Pronouns
She/her
Partners
  1. flygon
  2. swampert
  3. ho-oh
  4. crobat
  5. orbeetle
  6. joltik
  7. salandit
  8. tyrantrum
Hello! Here for roulette, and I'll be covering chapters 1 & 2.

As you know, I mentioned that I find your revised version of chapter 1 to be much more palatable. The change in language makes gym battles feel less like lethal death matches (or at least, matches where death was a distinct possibility) so just a very tough and slightly brutal fight. Which makes me dislike Marcus significantly less. Some others already said this, but I might as well throw in my two cents. I have a huge bias against any story where pokemon battling is a sport combat but can result in death, or to have death on the table as anything beyond the absolute most freak of accidents, so the first version turned me off the story. The idea of Marcus sending a baby into battle that seemingly could have it just die... anyways I rambled enough.

I say this not to rag on you or anything, but simply to highlight that your current version was engaging enough for me to read properly beyond the first chapter.

Overall, the improvements I noticed were very solid. Aside from clarifying and tightening Marcus strategy in the fight (at least, I think so, it seems different than I remember), I also noted you adjusted the description of Marcus's goals. Now the focus is more on his desire to get out of his small farmtown, make a name for himself, and prove himself to his Pa instead of living what he sees as a boring and unfulfilling life.

I think your Chapter 1 is a very good opening chapter. It's not overly long, it sets the mood and expectations for the story, and introduces our protagonist and his team, as well as his motivation. I have a few minor critiques I'll get into in the line-by-lines, but otherwise its solid work!

I never properly read chapter 2 so I don't know if you made any changes, but I found chapter 2 to also be good. Marcus travels, meets a sandshrew, gets into some trouble in the cave, and gets out, and you introduced Gemma. I don't have any big critique's that stood out to me, but I thought it was good. While darker takes on pokemon is not always my cup of tea, I do think you do a good job of showing both some nicer pokemon and more aggressive ones, so its not a murderfest, which is nice.

I'll move into the line-by-lines now to discuss some critiques and comments.
The hallway was dank and dark. It smelled like sweat and blood, crude reminders of what it would take to actually accomplish my goal.
I like this opening but I was also contemplating... why would the approach hallway smell of blood? This isn't a critique, just a curiosity. I guess if the trainers exit through this hallway and their injured pokemon is outside the pokeball there would be the smell of blood?

Failure meant living the rest of my life in a dreary little village with every second of my life arranged by my father.

I hardened my expression. Like hell I was going back there as anything other than champion. Not after how I left. Not after what Pa and I said to each other. I'd prove to him that I could do what I wanted. I'd be who I wanted to be.
Nice! Like the idea of this young man trying to escape from what he sees as his arranged life and living forever under his fathers thumb. And the nice line implying they probably had a big fight about it.

Unless I did something spectacular, of course.
Okay so here my one major criqitue. I do love the addition/adjustment of backstory, but I think this paragraph, and the 2-3 paragraphs preceding it, felt very redundant to me. They seemed to state the same idea in slightly different ways.

"I'm going to be a nobody, trapped in my small village, unless I do something major" was the common sentiment, and I feel like you can probably cut a paragraph or more of that bit and achieve the same goal of explaining Marcus drive. He's from a small, paltry town where his whole life was going to be dictated for him and he and his Pa didn't agree on much and he got into a fight and left and became a trainer.

It felt just a tad like the narrative was trying to overly hammer it home.

I may have been a novice
This bit and the part directly preceeding the word 'novice' is used a lot. This is subjective but the word repitition felt both grating and noticeable to me. It felt like the narrative was trying just a bit to hard to remind me Marcus is a novice, not used to battling, who is a novice.

I think you can increase the effectiveness of what you're trying to say by not saying it too much. The context tells us Marcus is a beginner, so some of the mentions that he is can pobably be trimmed a teeny bit.

My only choice was to trap it, so that Brock would be forced to concede his geodude.
This was actually a really good strategy, nice.

"Incinerate!" I shouted again. "Melt the sand in its path!"
Another good strategy!

That was never the plan anyways. We had a timer with fourteen minutes left on it
I do enjoy characters who go in with a concrete plan as opposed to winging everything, very refreshing.

I did "Hm" for a second though that Curie's antics wasted ten minutes. I guess time can fly but it genuinely felt like the whole thing was probably 5-7 minutes?

Of course, telling time in written form is tricky, so this is a relatively minor quirk.
My eyes found Luna and I didn't care to hide the tears that fell freely. I was a trainer now. For real. And there wasn't a damn thing anybody could do to change that.
Nice! I will say that as a whole, I feel like the battle captured a good balance of something both believable but challenging too, not overly easy but not so hard its unrealistic.

She'd already brought me a trio of pidgey while I built our makeshift camp.
Another curiosity, in your world are pokemon sapient or closer to smart animals? And are some pokemon more or less sapient? Like in our world an average person won't eat a dog, but might eat bacon, etc. Are there some pokemon on this scale or are they all non-sapient? (I'm always intrigued by the many views on eating pokemon etc)

resigned to my meagre dinner.
I'll highlight this because I think this section falls prey to the same thing I noted about the word novice or about Marcus backstory, in that it feels repetitive in acknowledging that Marcus is going hungry/has a meager dinner.

I think its a fantastic detail to include but I think there's like, three mentions within a couple paragraphs of it being scarce, and then he gives the last of his berries to Luna (which is very nice). I think for me, it slightly takes away from the action because it feels almost self-pitying for Marcus, whereas if he just gave his berries to Luna and the audience infers thats he's losing the last of his meal, its more impactful.

Curie sat on the top of my hiking bag, strapped into the makeshift carrier I'd fashioned from an old shirt. She kept reaching up at the tree branches and trying to grab on as we went by.
This is absolutely adorable imagery.

The League maintained the thoroughfare, defending the fortified motorways from aggressive wild pokemon and repairing damage when needed. Trainers tended to cluster along these routes, challenging each other in lieu of powerful wild pokemon. It made for a hellish gauntlet of battle, one that could help a starting trainer build their record or sink their dream.
Love the worldbuilding detail here!

I nearly crapped myself when I saw the violet coloured liquid oozing from the wound.
Oh? Vulpix (or pokemon) bleed violet blood? interesting!
(keeping that PG rating I see (/j))
Some dumb-as-a-rock graveller would decide that it would be fun to use the shiny new town at the bottom of the hill as the finish line for their race.
Who's really the stupid one? Graveler having a race or humans coming along and building their town at the foot of said racing spot? :thonk:

Even still, she had limits. I kept her from instigating battles, but it still felt like we were fighting off a new group of zubat every few minutes.
Silly Marcus! Zubat are rare and special, just catch one! Shame on him for passing up the best pokemon out there. 0/10, bad fic, no Zubat.

Anyways I think that covers my thoughts! My main critique was simply that a few section felt a touch repetitive in their point and it seemed to reoccur periodically, so I'd say to try and be aware of that. Otherwise I genuinely found myself enjoying this more than the first time I read it. Good work!
 

Adamhuarts

Mew specialist
Partners
  1. mew-adam
  2. celebi-shiny
  3. roserade-adam
Hey there. I'm here for Review Roulette and this is my review of the first chapter of the fic.


Starting off with the first scene, I like the way it is presented. We get an opening blurb of how Marcus starts off as a nobody from a literal nowhere no one cares much about, and he's determined to make a name for himself. This ends up working a lot in his favor as Brock underestimates him quite a lot by merely picking a Geodude as his first choice during their fight.


Speaking of the battle, I enjoyed reading through it quite a bit. There were only a few points in the whole fight where I had a bit of trouble painting a clear picture of what was going on, but overall I'd say it was done well.


The chapter's prose was fine and the pacing was done well enough. There's not much else for me to touch on here as this is just the first chapter, but at the very least I'd say you have a good thing going here.
 

Joshthewriter

Charizard Fan
Location
Toronto
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. charizard
I admittedly have read, like, zero other journeyfics out there, so maybe this is common, but I do really like that this isn't some giant, televised super big deal thing with a huge audience. that's part of why I hate gen 8 lmfao

Gym battles do sort of become these big massive spectacles later in the fic, but then they promptly lose all their significance as the plot spirals out of control from there.

:eyes: I don't remember if this is ever expanded upon further in the story (probably not, because, well...... everything else is a little bit more important than trying to save money lol) but it does make for a neat little bit of worldbuilding.
The whole “Marcus is poor” thing kinda gets abandoned once he gets his feet under him, but it’s not completely gone. He still feels and acts as though he’s poor and neglects to spend money he doesn’t have.

If he's ever going back at all. :copyka:
Marcus’ reunion with family may or may not play a pivotal role in an arc close to the finale

Again, maybe this is common practice in other fics, but I love that the Gym fields aren't just..... flat, like they are in literally every piece of official pokemon media.
flat field = boring environment. I like having fun with it.

fuck yeah creative and unorthodox strats!!!! :letsgorb: love to see this kind of shit
Marcus doesn’t actually get a huge number of powerhouse pokemon (As of 26 he is still relatively underpowered) that he can just smash his way through the opponent with. Creativity is something that carries him through his early goings of his Journey.

.....considering what goes on later in the fic, will this Onix be relevant again? :copyka:
Shale will return…

Oh, so we’re in the immediate aftermath of an impact event. Probably. Maybe. If that’s really what’s going on I can already tell that this scene is going to go places in short order.
:fearfullaugh~1:
Happy places, right?
I’m assuming that those would be Kabutops. Since they are fossilmons that fit the bill there.

Can’t tell whether this is a fakeout opening/protagonist, or if this is an interpretation of what Genesect used to be like back in the day. But all in due time, I suppose.
I went with the Genesect are revived/upgraded kabutops. 100% you were right on. They had some small differences (notably bug/water typing) but are functionally the same.
Isn’t darkness something that you specifically see? Maybe I’m nitpicking but I think the more correct construction would be something along the lines of “Then everything is plunged into darkness and I feel nothing at all.” or something like that.
very good pickup and excellent fodder for eventual Revision
Dude’s in a cloning vat right now, isn’t he? Though that’s certainly a trippy way of depicting what I presume are human voices.
I liked the portrayal of communication as song/sound and this I think helped sell the “foreign/alien POV”
It might be nitpicking again, I think that it probably makes more sense to compare protag’s feeling of these voices that are apparently “nails on chalkboard”-tier for him to the feeling of eating spoiled food, since the two aren’t really things that can be directly compared to each other as-is.
Probably not wrong, more revision fodder here.
Well, I suppose he’s technically not wrong, even if he’s not zeroing in on the right predator right now.

I kinda wonder if as part of the “Kings of this place” bit, that it might make sense to show off more of what Protag/Genesect’s perception of a “King” is. Since if his perception is “big, vicious predator like Strong-Jaw”, it might have been worth playing up how alien it is for Protag to come to the conclusion that “the squishy, seemingly defenseless Two-Legs are the lords of this place, and I can’t even attack them properly like I could with Strong-Jaw”. Along with any feelings/resentments/etc. Protag would feel as a result of it.
I like that you picked up on the perception of king->predator. Revision fodder again, but I can work in the suggestions you made about playing up the alien conclusion that the squishies are the kings.

Oh, so it’s a Durant there. Or at least I think it’s a Durant. Also, I’m pretty sure this is all sorts of a terrible idea right now since this is breaking a Genesect out of containment.
Its a Bisharp!!!!

… Okay, that sounds like something pretty different from a Durant. Even if I have no idea what on earth the thing is.
ITS A BISHARP!!!

Oh, so “poison water” is supposed to be seawater... I think. I kinda wonder if there should’ve been more throwaway hints as to what the nature of this “poison water” was earlier. e.x. some passing mention of it lacking something that non-"poison" water would have or something like that.
Definitely some fix I can work in explaining what poison water means to genesect.

Oh, so this is a custom prototype ‘mon that was built alongside Genesect? Or is this supposed to be something concrete and canonical?

IT IS A BISHARP!!!!
Protag: “*... That came out sounding lewder than I intended, but regardless is extremely uncomfortable and probably more than a little embarrassing.*”
Well, a penis euphemis somehow snuck in. I’m half tempted to keep it lol.

That… feels like it’s a pretty big detail about Metal-Point that was never communicated prior to this point. You probably want to have some point where Protag/Genesect definitively sees this since it was honestly hard to get a read on what Metal-Point was supposed to look like already.
‘Cries in IT WAS A BISHARP’

I can definitely fix something and make it more clear. It is supposed to be somewhat unclear, but I wanted to have it able to figure out still.

Wait, so does Protag/Genesect literally have an off/killswitch built into him? Since he sure has a tendency to just abruptly conk out and lapse out of consciousness quickly.
Plasma wouldn’t exactly create a murderous fossil cyborg without a way to control/shut it down, would they???

Spoiler: I fucked it up and they did create a “kill switch”, I just never portrayed it properly.

I can see why Genesect canonically trashed the lab he was created in, since… yeah. I’d have a pretty strong hate-on of humans after all this myself.
I mean, they kinda earned it.

Oh hey, it’s like the prime directives from Robocop, except they can be triggered on a whim to turn Protag/Genesect into a (partly) meat puppet.
I have something on this in a minute.

Really now? You seriously had no idea that this was something that might potentially happen when you had to increasingly turn manual override on your living weapon on for like the last 3 scenes to get him to do anything?
Foreshadowing, although it’s perhaps a bit too on the nose.

>attempting to subdue a Genesect with small arms

Image
Hence, my inspiration for the fic.

Well, whatever the guy was shooting can’t be that good of a bullet given that we’re not hearing Protag describing feeling pain shooting through various body parts right about now. Assuming his new body is even wired to allow him to sense pain like that.
Sound weapon, as explained later in the fic. It should definitely be more clear, so likely revision fodder.

Although yes, he isn’t exactly wired to feel pain. I should definitely resolve that

I mean, I could absolutely buy Ghetsis being arrogant enough to take that line of reasoning with N, but it’s definitely blunt and the sort of train of thought that would get him to start harboring doubts about his whole enterprise.
Spoiler: It does start the process of N doubting Ghetsis. The very very long process that takes far too long for N to actually pull his head out of his ass and understand another human for once.

Whelp, it took a while, but Protag has indeed given the labs a new red paint job from thatdescription.
:letsgorb:

Oh, so there’s multiple Genesect in this continuity like in the anime.
Multiple genesect with one unique. I know for a fact there is revision fodder around here.

Can’t tell if the implication is supposed to be that they’ve been successfully broken or are being puppeteered, but boy is that an eerie vibe in light of how much fight Protag has been putting up.
So, he was supposed to be the first genesect they brought back with a fully functioning brain. I originally had them as just “broken” genesect that worked as intended and were just inferior to this particular specimen.

These other “copies” are essentially remote controlled weapons. Wildly powerful when controlled by a capable operator. Almost useless when controlled by a panicked scientist with death beams flying around all over the place.

Wouldn’t have expected the other Genesect to job this hard to another, but I suppose that that’s life in a setting with “one and done” battles.
Partly yes, they’re intended to die like that. But I do want to place this in revision fodder because I think I want genesect to have a horrified realization (and maybe recognize his mate).

inb4 he does a spinny beam spam thing on all fours that collapses a good chunk of the surrounding lab.
Shit, that sounds like it would have been fun.

Oh, so that how you justified N’s ability to understand Pokémon in this setting. So he’s basically a human Lucario minus the battling abilities and being less of a manlet.
Basically yeah, he emotions real good. Has some “pokemon understand me” thing going on. N has been a very indirectly involved character for me, so I haven’t gone into a whole lot of detail yet.

And then Team Plasma had a Shadow Duo... unless they replaced the Shadow Triad member there that just became a puddle of ruddy goop later on.
I actually had the Triad as a sort of Fuchsian mercenary band. Again, Unova has not been a focus so it’s all very bare bones.

Boy did Team Plasma not build those other Genesect to last. Though they really ought to have done more testing on their killswitches for their bionic killer prehistoric bugs. ^^;
I guess this harkens back to my “they’re remote controlled” bit. File it away for revisions when the time comes.

Small nitpick, but IMO if you emphasize Protag’s “will” there, it better sells the sense of “I will have my freedom, and if I have to blow half this island to bits, so be it”
Revision fodder!!!

Oh, so the guns legit shoot sound. I… didn’t pick up on that at all in the earlier description, but I guess it makes sense that TP wouldn’t want to shoot up their unholy bionic abominations unless absolutely necessary given that they’re almost certainly not cheap to make.
Plasma has super high tech stuff compared to most of the other “evil groups”. Or, maybe not higher tech, but rather less ethically restricted tech. It’s intended to be an ironic contradiction.

So, part of that is them having weapons that are supposed to be highly effective against a pokemon that communicates so extensively through sound and vibration. Perhaps I should file this into Revision fodder for an expansion on the “sound gun” in its first appearance.

That’s at once adorable and
:eltycrying:
-tier, so congratulations on managing to tug my heartstrings for a blood-spattered bionic abomination that just reduced 20+ people into chunky salsa.
GOOOOOOD

I wanted the reader to have a tear-jerking end with genesect. It wasn’t really his fault. Can you really blame someone when they were resurrected in a strange body and experimented on until their mind snapped?

Alright, onto the final recap:

As you can probably gather from the write-up, I liked the piece. It’s obviously a fairly hard-edged story, but it feels like something that’d be a decently believable scenario involving N if Pokémon had some branch of canon that was an out-and-out seinen.
Not entirely sure what seinen is. Google says it’s shonen, which was explained to me as “Young man anime”. I like it being a darker/heavier action focused piece and don’t understand the anime wordings lol.

This hews pretty close to one of the most graphic things I’ve ever written. Glad it didn’t dive too far into overly edgy!

You used the first-person perspective really effectively here for this one-shot and get some decent mileage out of showing this poor, disoriented creature trapped in a body horror situation and being poked and prodded by alien beings and how it just progressively wears him down until he snaps and is out for blood and freedom, but especially blood. You also managed to do that while working in some neat worldbuilding in a short and fairly snappy piece, so color me impressed on that front.
Thanks!!!! I was struggling with the first-present POV (which you helped point out the typos and tense changes) and I’m glad it came across effectively.

As for things I was less hot about, you have some minor grammatical errors and the like littered about your one-shot that you should consider smoothing out with a once-over.
Is definitely planned. This was a “close-to-final” draft. I wanted to go back in and revise it but I figured I’d wait until the contest feedback came in.

On the structural side of things, there were a couple of points where I feel that things weren’t described enough to get a solid read as to what was going on.
IT WAS A BISHARP

Now I get that that will happen to an extent since we’re viewing most of this one-shot through the eyes of a Genesect where everything after waking up again after his rez is alien and disorienting to him, but meta-wise you still want enough for readers to have a firm grasp on what’s going on. The sequence involving Metal-Point was probably the biggest offender, since I still can’t tell what on earth Metal-Point was. My assumption is that MP was a Beta Genesect, but that’s admittedly some guesswork on my end.
‘sad Bisharp noises’

But all-in-all, good work @Joshthewriter ! Between this and Eternal War, I honestly should get around to checking out the main story of your setting at some point. Since if it’s put together as well as those two stories, it seems like it’d be quite a ride.
Thanks!!!! I hope to see you around sometimes!!! I’ll be glad to return the favour sometime soon!

Hello! Here for roulette, and I'll be covering chapters 1 & 2.

As you know, I mentioned that I find your revised version of chapter 1 to be much more palatable. The change in language makes gym battles feel less like lethal death matches (or at least, matches where death was a distinct possibility) so just a very tough and slightly brutal fight.
The exact intent of the rewording. You can thank Canis for that, a lot of the “it’s so bleak just because” was excised with some help.

Which makes me dislike Marcus significantly less. Some others already said this, but I might as well throw in my two cents. I have a huge bias against any story where pokemon battling is a sport combat but can result in death, or to have death on the table as anything beyond the absolute most freak of accidents, so the first version turned me off the story. The idea of Marcus sending a baby into battle that seemingly could have it just die... anyways I rambled enough.
I get you. Glad it comes off better as a deliberate stalling tactic where Marcus knows brock isn’t going to kill a baby.

I say this not to rag on you or anything, but simply to highlight that your current version was engaging enough for me to read properly beyond the first chapter.
:veelove:

Overall, the improvements I noticed were very solid. Aside from clarifying and tightening Marcus strategy in the fight (at least, I think so, it seems different than I remember), I also noted you adjusted the description of Marcus's goals. Now the focus is more on his desire to get out of his small farmtown, make a name for himself, and prove himself to his Pa instead of living what he sees as a boring and unfulfilling life.
Again, credit to Canis. Much of the problems (as were pointed out) were that I worded things in a not great way. So happy it comes out sounding better. Especially glad that it doesn’t sound so “I can’t marry a local girl” anymore Lol.

I think your Chapter 1 is a very good opening chapter. It's not overly long, it sets the mood and expectations for the story, and introduces our protagonist and his team, as well as his motivation. I have a few minor critiques I'll get into in the line-by-lines, but otherwise its solid work!
Yay! Flygon seal of approval! I personally like the simplicity of starting with just a battle as it’s a battle heavy fic and I wanted to give the readers a taste of it.

I never properly read chapter 2 so I don't know if you made any changes, but I found chapter 2 to also be good.
Very very minor stuff, but not since way before Canis reviewed. Mostly just small descriptions of Marcus and a few clarifications to motivation that were absent.

Marcus travels, meets a sandshrew, gets into some trouble in the cave, and gets out, and you introduced Gemma. I don't have any big critique's that stood out to me, but I thought it was good. While darker takes on pokemon is not always my cup of tea, I do think you do a good job of showing both some nicer pokemon and more aggressive ones, so its not a murderfest, which is nice.
I like the idea of them acting like regular animals. Yes, some will likely attack and eat you. But most are skittish and nervous and some are even outright friendly! Its a whole range of portrayals and I didn’t like the idea of having every single encounter end in outright murder.

Its honestly something I don’t do enough of. Journey spends so much time detailing the bad side of things that I sometimes feel the need to throw some wild pokemon fluff in. Your Review here makes me want to do that more!

In regards to Journey—>Dark, I try to straddle a line of being pg-13ish but I know that I regularly overstep that line.
I like this opening but I was also contemplating... why would the approach hallway smell of blood? This isn't a critique, just a curiosity. I guess if the trainers exit through this hallway and their injured pokemon is outside the pokeball there would be the smell of blood?
Hmmmmm, I hadn’t actually considered that bit. It was mostly atmosphere building, but perhaps I can work some kind of revision in here.

Nice! Like the idea of this young man trying to escape from what he sees as his arranged life and living forever under his fathers thumb. And the nice line implying they probably had a big fight about it.
They did have a big fight!!!! My first bit of implied “all is not right at home“ and it gets noticed!!!!

Okay so here my one major criqitue. I do love the addition/adjustment of backstory, but I think this paragraph, and the 2-3 paragraphs preceding it, felt very redundant to me. They seemed to state the same idea in slightly different ways.

"I'm going to be a nobody, trapped in my small village, unless I do something major" was the common sentiment, and I feel like you can probably cut a paragraph or more of that bit and achieve the same goal of explaining Marcus drive. He's from a small, paltry town where his whole life was going to be dictated for him and he and his Pa didn't agree on much and he got into a fight and left and became a trainer.

It felt just a tad like the narrative was trying to overly hammer it home.

Revision Fodder, notes taken and improvements will be made.
This bit and the part directly preceeding the word 'novice' is used a lot. This is subjective but the word repitition felt both grating and noticeable to me. It felt like the narrative was trying just a bit to hard to remind me Marcus is a novice, not used to battling, who is a novice.

I think you can increase the effectiveness of what you're trying to say by not saying it too much. The context tells us Marcus is a beginner, so some of the mentions that he is can pobably be trimmed a teeny bit.
I overuse and repeat words sometimes. Also sentence structures! Hooray for learning and trying not to keep doing it!
I do enjoy characters who go in with a concrete plan as opposed to winging everything, very refreshing.
EarlyMarcus is much much better at “I have a plan” than LateMarcus. LateMarcus has a plan, it just always tends to go to shit requiring improvisation.

I did "Hm" for a second though that Curie's antics wasted ten minutes. I guess time can fly but it genuinely felt like the whole thing was probably 5-7 minutes?

Of course, telling time in written form is tricky, so this is a relatively minor quirk.
Noted, perhaps I can extend the previous battle and make it seem as though Marcus was playing for time the entire battle.

Another curiosity, in your world are pokemon sapient or closer to smart animals? And are some pokemon more or less sapient? Like in our world an average person won't eat a dog, but might eat bacon, etc. Are there some pokemon on this scale or are they all non-sapient? (I'm always intrigued by the many views on eating pokemon etc)
I subscribe to the “sliding scale” of sapience. Some mon are practically human level (some even beyond us), some are barely above trained animals. All of them though, have a base level that allows for at least basic bonds and communication with their trainers.

I use the “beastmaster” interpretation for trainers. They aren’t controlling these pokemon in fights, they’re more coaching and guiding them through. To me, it places a lot more worth on the pokemon themselves And what they can do, since their battle prowess is not as intrinsically linked to their trainer (though that is important).

Fwiw, while Marcus does hunt and eat his own food, the entire “exploitation“ plot of BW are planned to happen at some point during the series. So yeah, at the moment in story Pokemon are still kinda treated like tools and property by more than they should be, but that isn’t set in stone.

This is an eventual plot point down the line! Journey as a series is planned to cover each mainline region in some way. BW‘s adaptation does plan to cover the exploitation of pokemon as a problem and I do plan on having these characters face that issue directly (whenever the hell I get there).

I'll highlight this because I think this section falls prey to the same thing I noted about the word novice or about Marcus backstory, in that it feels repetitive in acknowledging that Marcus is going hungry/has a meager dinner.

I think its a fantastic detail to include but I think there's like, three mentions within a couple paragraphs of it being scarce, and then he gives the last of his berries to Luna (which is very nice). I think for me, it slightly takes away from the action because it feels almost self-pitying for Marcus, whereas if he just gave his berries to Luna and the audience infers thats he's losing the last of his meal, its more impactful.
Revision fodder noted. I can resolve some of this in-fic. Like I’ve mentioned, repeated structures are a prominent issue of mine (that I do think I’ve made ground on in more recent stuff of mine, this stuff was last revised probably a year ago and originally written in 2020).


Oh? Vulpix (or pokemon) bleed violet blood? interesting!
(keeping that PG rating I see (/j))
Actually was intended to be poison leaking from the wound. Luna was implied to have tangled with a nido.

Who's really the stupid one? Graveler having a race or humans coming along and building their town at the foot of said racing spot? :thonk:
There may be a few “idiot ball” moments like this. Some things may need revisions to help them make a little sense.

Silly Marcus! Zubat are rare and special, just catch one! Shame on him for passing up the best pokemon out there. 0/10, bad fic, no Zubat.
:mewlulz:
Anyways I think that covers my thoughts! My main critique was simply that a few section felt a touch repetitive in their point and it seemed to reoccur periodically, so I'd say to try and be aware of that.
I am aware! I do think I’ve made progress on this in recent months, so there is that! Hopefully I can resolve some of the issues present here, I do plan to come back and revise again.

Otherwise I genuinely found myself enjoying this more than the first time I read it. Good work!
YAY!!!

Glad you enjoyed it! I’ll be sure to return the favour and reread LA soon!
Starting off with the first scene, I like the way it is presented. We get an opening blurb of how Marcus starts off as a nobody from a literal nowhere no one cares much about, and he's determined to make a name for himself. This ends up working a lot in his favor as Brock underestimates him quite a lot by merely picking a Geodude as his first choice during their fight.


Speaking of the battle, I enjoyed reading through it quite a bit. There were only a few points in the whole fight where I had a bit of trouble painting a clear picture of what was going on, but overall I'd say it was done well.


The chapter's prose was fine and the pacing was done well enough. There's not much else for me to touch on here as this is just the first chapter, but at the very least I'd say you have a good thing going here.
Thanks!!!! I worked hard on this story and I glad you enjoyed it. I do know that it’s kind of a simplistic chapter, but I liked the idea of the story being started by a battle (since it is such a combat-heavy fic).

Glad you checked it out and glad you enjoyed it! Hopefully I can return the favour again sometime soon!
 

HelloYellow17

Gym Leader
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. suicune
  2. umbreon
  3. mew
Howdy hey! I’m here for a review of Journey chapter 1! Been meaning to get around to this fic for a while, so I’m grateful Review Roulette worked out this way, haha :quag:

So, my style of review is to respond to specific lines and quotes first, and then to give a summary/overall crit at the end. I’ll tuck the line quotes under a spoiler so the review isn’t a thousand miles long. So let’s get started!

The hallway was dank and dark. It smelled like sweat and blood, crude reminders of what it would take to actually accomplish my goal. There was no noise of the crowd, no searing lights for the cameras, just an old loudspeaker that crackled and fizzed as it spat out its call.

"Challenger to the field!"
Ooooh this was some very effective scene-setting in multiple ways. The mention of blood and sweat immediately tells us this is not your typical lighthearted Pokémon fic, and the dialogue instantly makes it clear that this is a gym challenge of some kind. Really solid intro, many things are being indicated here without outright being said, and I love that.
Should be “meager” here. Unless there’s an alternate spelling that exists that I’m not aware of, which is totally possible because I know nothing ahahaha
Failure meant living the rest of my life in a dreary little village with every second of my life arranged by my father.
Hm, this didn’t quite sell it for me. Is that really his only option if he fails to be a trainer? Surely there are other paths in life he could take, other careers or opportunities, especially if he’s so determined to never return to the life he left behind.
Yucca village was a small farming community, not even on most maps unless you bought a local regional map from the northern gate of Saffron City and managed to find the smallest dot on it.
Ooh, original town! I’m a fan of that!
Should be “ever” here
Many a challenger had attempted to use the hollow network of tunnels and chambers to their advantage and found themselves outclassed by an enemy that knew every corner of the arena as if it were their homes.
The last portion of this sentence has an inconsistency—it should either be “an enemy that knew every corner of the arena as if it was their home” or make both “home” and “enemy” plural. Other than that, though, it’s a great sentence! It really drives home that the opponent has the advantage of familiarity.
Maybe Erika would have been an easier first gym challenge, but I was never a fan of taking the easy route.
Ohohoho, the gym challenge isn’t linear in this universe? 👀
I was a novice, a beginner who hadn't earned a single badge let alone even challenged a gym yet.
I feel like this sentence could actually be removed entirely. It would make the one after it a little more punchy.
I may have been a novice, but I was absolutely not a pushover.

I was a novice, but that didn't mean I was an idiot.
I’m noticing quite a lot of repetition here. These two sentences basically say the exact same thing and are only a handful of paragraphs apart. I’m also noticing a lot of use of the word “novice” in a short amount of time; I suggest using a keyword search for “novice” and replacing at least half of them with other words, like “rookie”, “beginner”, “newbie”, etc. You can also probably cut quite a few of these sentences altogether—it’s already very clear that Marcus (Markus?) is a beginner trainer, and there’s no need to beat that over the readers’ heads quite so much.
A little vulpine pokemon growled menacingly at the rock opposite it, flaring her tails aggressively. Her opponent had the type advantage, but I had learned the hard way never to count Luna out of the fight.
OMGGGGGG VULPIX STARTER VULPIX STARTER VULPIX STARTER HECK YAAAAS
I nodded. I knew that, of course. I'd been studying training almost my whole life. It had been my dream since the very first Indigo Conference I'd ever watched. So what if it had taken me longer than most trainers to start my journey? No need for Brock to know how capable I really was. Not yet at least.
I’m wondering if there’s a more effective way to reveal Marcus’s backstory without it feeling quite so exposition-y? Despite the fact that the chapter opens with him coming out onto the field, it takes quite a while to get to the start of the battle. I think you can communicate the same idea and backstory with far fewer words; one example is that, rather than Marcus *explaining* his bad relationship with his father, you can instead have him recall a specific line of dialogue his father has said to him, and describe his internal and emotional reaction to that memory. For example:

“You’ll never make it out of Pewter. If there’s one thing I know about you, boy, it’s that you don’t have what it takes. You never did.”

I clenched my teeth and shook my father’s parting words out of my head, then took a few steadying breaths to keep my anger at bay. I’d spent twenty-five years with that damned voice in my ears; I didn’t need to listen to it for one second longer.


This obviously just a demonstration to get my point across, eheh. I took a very similar approach with Gonzap and Wes’s relationship in OSAS—never outright stating that they had a bad relationship, but very much implying it through memories and dialogue. It would also be really interesting to see what impact Marcus’s dad has had on his psyche, since family issues rarely ever just disappear once someone leaves home. :unquag:
He hadn't expected a combo move, not from a novice like myself.
Repeating my advice above about replacing “novice” with a variety of different words to lessen the repetition.
This is another one of those words where I’m like “does this have an alternate spelling? I feel like it might but idk???” 😂 ANYWAY the proper spelling that I’m familiar with is “defense.”
Something to do with their heavy outer carapace or something makes them more resistant to physical damage.
Sentence would read smoother if you deleted “or something”
His geodude pitched the slab as hard as it could. But its dizzied confusion had already taken a toll. The stone slab slipped free of the geodude's hands as it fumbled the throw. It crashed down on top of the little rock, utterly crushing it beneath.

My shit-eating grin probably burned into Brock's mind permanently. I smirked and pointed forward with a simple, decisive order. "Incinerate!"
AHAHAHA this is SUCH satisfying imagery, I was making a :copyka: face while reading it. Freaking spectacular. I love an underdog fight where there’s a clear disadvantage and the MC has to get creative!
It was bright red, dripping with liquid glass and glowing with heat.
Ayoooo I love this. “Dripping with liquid glass” just really does it for me for some reason :D
I saw it coming. Luna wouldn't be quick enough to avoid the geodude. It would smash into her side and the battle would be over.

"Incinerate!" I shouted again. "Melt the sand in its path!"
YESSSS I love creative solutions!
Brock's prized onix appeared with and earthshaking roar.
“And” should be “an” here
She was a pale green, almost twelve feet long, flecks of silver metal running through the boulders that made up her serpentine body. It was a side effect of her parentage, something to do with being the offspring of Brock's first onix and Galar's Raihan's prized duraludon
Oooooh 👀 she sounds so PURTY. I’m a sucker for variety in Pokémon species appearances, and this was a really lovely description. I’m also a big fan of the use of nicknames, both for Marcus’s Pokémon and Brock’s. It just makes them feel more like real characters, and like the trainer actually cares about them as individuals.
My two-foot tall, ball of pink joy materialized on the field and I felt our momentum come to a crashing halt as my precious happiny goo-gooed adorably at the terrifying onix.
One paragraph in and I’m already absolutely in love with Curie, what a precious BAYBEEE 😭
Now, Curie might not be a violent soul but she can stall a battle somewhat effectively if she's coaxed into it the right way. She was a baby. All she really wanted to do was play, and if I could present the battle as a game then she'd cooperate for the most part. At least as long as her attention span held out and her opponent was willing. I figured Shale just might be young enough to play along.

So I did the only thing I could. I blatantly lied to my little baby. I got down on one knee, looking down at Curie with a happy smile on my face. "Hey, Curie!" I shouted.

She looked up at the sound of my voice and started hopping happily at the sight of me. It melted my damn heart.

I pointed over at Shale, putting on my playful voice. "See that big mean onix?" I asked. "She wants to play!"
I have some mixed thoughts on this! On one hand, I actually love the idea that some Pokémon view battle as “play.” It makes sense that each mon would have unique feelings and approaches to battling! On the other, I’m not sure how I feel about Marcus manipulating Curie into fighting, especially when it was said outright that she doesn’t have a violent bone in her body.

I’m actually fine with the fact that Marcus sent her out into battle despite her being a baby, because it was clear enough to me that she wasn’t there to fight, only to be a distraction, and that he would call her back at the first sign of real danger. It’s the lying that doesn’t quite sit right with me. Sure, parents have to use white lies to get their toddler to go along with things all the time, but that’s usually because they need to do something for their own good—eat your food, take a bath, go to bed, wear something other than that dinosaur onesie you’ve been wearing for three days straight, etc.

In this case, though, Curie doesn’t need to be battling for her own well-being. She could simply be a companion Pokémon, and would likely be perfectly happiny happy with that. Sooner or later Marcus will be forced to confront the fact that Curie doesn’t like battling by nature.

Now, there are ways to address this. Maybe instead of it being a case of “Curie doesn’t like fighting,” it can be more along the lines of “Curie won’t do anything unless it sounds fun.” And you already have a foundation for the second option! This way, Marcus isn’t actually forcing or tricking Curie into doing something she doesn’t actually enjoy doing, but rather, he’s working with her and adjusting his coaching style to suit her. It’s a simple change that eliminates a lot of unfortunate implications!
Curie hopped up and down on the spot, looking back and forth between Shale and I. She squealed happily and bounded towards the onix without waiting for my command.

Curie bounded over to the coiled onix, giggling madly. She bounded up Shale's coils and made her way towards the massive serpent's head. She puckered her lips and planted a sopping wet kiss on Shale's nose.
Screaming, crying, rolling on the floor becAUSE CURIE IS THE MOST PRECIOUS BEAN AND SHE DESERVES THE ENTIRE FREAKING WORLD
"Shale! Crush that weakling!"

Brock was absolutely livid. He was practically hopping in place, his face bright red. Shale was completely ignoring his frantic commands, enamoured with Curie's adorable antics. She was nuzzling Curie with her snout and laughing deeply when the little happiny planted another kiss on her.
Okay this is adorable and Shale and Curie need to be bffs forever now please and thank

However, I will say that Brock looks a bit like a major jerk here, and not super professional. If he were a really cocky character such as, say, Silver, I wouldn’t bat an eye at him saying “crush that weakling”—but even then, if Silver said that about a baby Pokémon, it would definitely make him look like even more of a jerk.

So the fact that it’s Brock here, telling his Onix to crush a baby, feels a bit excessive. He can still give a threatening command like “Shale, that’s enough! Let’s end this!” and I wouldn’t mind it quite as much, because that version feels more tactful and professional.

Second, the fact that Brock gets really pissed here feels especially unprofessional. Sure, he has a reason to be unsettled, thrown off, or troubled. But considering he’s fighting a rookie, and it’s also quite literally part of his job to lose from time to time, it doesn’t exactly line up that he would immediately blow his top at the first sign of real trouble.
Then, disaster struck. Shale must have shifted as she laughed, because Curie stumbled and flopped onto her back. Hard. I winced, knowing that we were all in very deep shit.
Ahahaha oh NO ERRYBODY PLUG YOUR EARS
I had no such luck. She just wailed harder, mourning her lost rock with all the fury of a confused infant.
GIVE HER ROCK BACK RIGHT THIS INSTANT, HEATHENS
My vulpix looked up at me, eerie light already flickering behind her eyes. She knew exactly what she had to do, what I expected of her. She snorted a puff of smoke at me, as if outrunning a 4 ton rock serpent was beneath her.
I just gotta say, I LOVE that you’re showcasing each Pokemon’s personality here through the way they engage in battle. I haven’t seen much of Curie or Luna at all yet, nor have I seen the way they are outside of battle, but I already feel like I have a solid grasp of their personalities. :D
Luna was a rust-coloured blur, dashing out of the way of Shale's tail in a spray of sand.
I also gotta comment on how awesome this battle is; it’s creative, goes way beyond Pokémon just exchanging moves and occasionally dodging, it involves real strategy and flexibility, the Pokémon have their own personalities rather than being mindless machines, etc. One particular thing I’m really enjoying is the fact that you’re making big use of the terrain as part of the battle, too. You’re using the entire arena, and it makes the whole battle feel so much more dynamic!
It was a gambit, banking on Shale moving to quickly to turn easily.
“To” should be “too”
I didn't hear the small smattering of cheers from the stands. I didn't hear the referee continue to drone on about my victory. I had won, I had beaten Brock. My eyes found Luna and I didn't care to hide the tears that fell freely. I was a trainer now. For real. And there wasn't a damn thing anybody could do to change that.
Awwww bless. 😭 Ngl that battle was INTENSE, I’m so glad that it was an extremely close one and not a “win by a landslide” type of deal. Marcus and his team are very much underdogs here in many ways, and they had to actually fight for that victory, which makes it feel all the more earned. I also love the way you counted down the seconds in the battle—amazing way to build that tension and to show just how close it actually was!

The only thing I wish was added here in this section was Luna’s reaction. This is her victory, too! How does she react to winning such a tough and close fight? Etc.
Onix are large, serpentine pokemon that are native to nearly all mountain ranges in the Kan-Jo supercontinent.
Kan-Jo supercontinent, eh? 👀
Legends persist of an ancient onix comprised of solid diamond, but few credible sources can confirm this with any reliability.
YOOO WHAT THAT’S SO COOL

Wow I’m a big fan of these Pokedex entries, they make the whole world feel so much more real! And they feel like actual entries, too.

Wow what a first chapter! That battle was really well-written, and I definitely learned a lot as a fellow writer for crafting my own battle scenes. :okgon:

As for general crit, I suggest looking over the first half of the chapter, the introductory part, and find ways you can condense it and make it more immersive. There’s a lot of Marcus *telling* us what’s what, but you can make it more engaging by showing us what he’s thinking and feeling—such as the example I showed with his dad, or maybe a brief memory of his room as a kid that was all decorated in Indigo League posters, or the fact that his clothing is all tattered and worn because he can’t afford new sets. And so on and so forth.

The last bit of crit is to give Marcus a more compelling reason for why he needs to win this fight so badly, for why he wants to be a trainer in the first place. Maybe establish that his dad is horribly abusive and that Marcus left on his journey both out of spite and desperation to leave home and never come back. Also, why does he want to be champion? Is it only to prove something to his dad, or is there something more to it than that? Etc.

Overall, I really find this a super solid first chapter. Marcus has something to prove, and he clearly cares for his teammates.

Can I also just say that I adore the fact that his two Pokémon are cutesy, more feminine-looking mon? And they are both female? It’s so refreshing to see a male MC with a team that isn’t all “COOL AND MACHO MASCULINE MON ONLY”. Big fan of that, and I’m a HUGE fan of the fact that he wasn’t afraid or ashamed to cry when he won. GIVE ME MORE MALE MCS THAT AREN’T ASHAMED OF CRYING, YAAAAS :letsgorb::letsgorb::letsgorb:

Awesome job, and I can’t wait to read more, especially about Luna and Curie :D I LOVE THEM ALREADY
 

Joshthewriter

Charizard Fan
Location
Toronto
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. charizard
So, my style of review is to respond to specific lines and quotes first, and then to give a summary/overall crit at the end. I’ll tuck the line quotes under a spoiler so the review isn’t a thousand miles long.
Some tips I see here for my own reviews in the future lol.

Ooooh this was some very effective scene-setting in multiple ways. The mention of blood and sweat immediately tells us this is not your typical lighthearted Pokémon fic, and the dialogue instantly makes it clear that this is a gym challenge of some kind. Really solid intro, many things are being indicated here without outright being said, and I love that.
My favourite way to tell you things is environmental clues! I love doing it, glad it got picked up on!

Should be “meager” here. Unless there’s an alternate spelling that exists that I’m not aware of, which is totally possible because I know nothing ahahaha
As far as I know, it’s meagre. Although I do tend to use Uk/Canadian spelling rather than the American.

There might be a few errant “u” and “re” as well littered around the fic as well.

Hm, this didn’t quite sell it for me. Is that really his only option if he fails to be a trainer? Surely there are other paths in life he could take, other careers or opportunities, especially if he’s so determined to never return to the life he left behind.
Admittedly, Marcus’ character was super super bare bones outside of leaving a small village. I’ve reworked a lot of it and I do know that there’s revisions and additions I should probably make for the first few chapters to better set up Marcus’ character and relationship to his family.

I’ve got it all down in my notes, it’s just about executing on them a little better.
Should be “ever” here
Noted for revision.
The last portion of this sentence has an inconsistency—it should either be “an enemy that knew every corner of the arena as if it was their home” or make both “home” and “enemy” plural. Other than that, though, it’s a great sentence! It really drives home that the opponent has the advantage of familiarity.
Ill see if I can work out the inconsistency in revision.
Ohohoho, the gym challenge isn’t linear in this universe? 👀
Theoretically you could challenge in any order, but I went with the “traditional“ route as the game route.
I feel like this sentence could actually be removed entirely. It would make the one after it a little more punchy.
Noted for revision.
I’m noticing quite a lot of repetition here. These two sentences basically say the exact same thing and are only a handful of paragraphs apart. I’m also noticing a lot of use of the word “novice” in a short amount of time; I suggest using a keyword search for “novice” and replacing at least half of them with other words, like “rookie”, “beginner”, “newbie”, etc. You can also probably cut quite a few of these sentences altogether—it’s already very clear that Marcus (Markus?) is a beginner trainer, and there’s no need to beat that over the readers’ heads quite so much.
Noted, and just to explain, the structural and word repetition is a known issue. I’m working out the kinks and I’ll repair these on revision.

I’m wondering if there’s a more effective way to reveal Marcus’s backstory without it feeling quite so exposition-y? Despite the fact that the chapter opens with him coming out onto the field, it takes quite a while to get to the start of the battle. I think you can communicate the same idea and backstory with far fewer words; one example is that, rather than Marcus *explaining* his bad relationship with his father, you can instead have him recall a specific line of dialogue his father has said to him, and describe his internal and emotional reaction to that memory. For example:

“You’ll never make it out of Pewter. If there’s one thing I know about you, boy, it’s that you don’t have what it takes. You never did.”

I clenched my teeth and shook my father’s parting words out of my head, then took a few steadying breaths to keep my anger at bay. I’d spent twenty-five years with that damned voice in my ears; I didn’t need to listen to it for one second longer.


This obviously just a demonstration to get my point across, eheh. I took a very similar approach with Gonzap and Wes’s relationship in OSAS—never outright stating that they had a bad relationship, but very much implying it through memories and dialogue. It would also be really interesting to see what impact Marcus’s dad has had on his psyche, since family issues rarely ever just disappear once someone leaves home. :unquag:
I like a lot of your suggestions around here. This “exposition dump” of backstory really is because it was dumped Into the story during a round of rough edits. I need to wholesale rewrite some parts of this and I think these tips will help me get across Marcus’ backstory better.

Repeating my advice above about replacing “novice” with a variety of different words to lessen the repetition.
Noted.
This is another one of those words where I’m like “does this have an alternate spelling? I feel like it might but idk???” 😂 ANYWAY the proper spelling that I’m familiar with is “defense.”
Canada Lol.
Sentence would read smoother if you deleted “or something”
Noted.
AHAHAHA this is SUCH satisfying imagery, I was making a :copyka: face while reading it. Freaking spectacular. I love an underdog fight where there’s a clear disadvantage and the MC has to get creative!
Marcus remains this way (relatively underpowered compared to his opponents) for much of the story. It’s much more fun to write from that perspective than curb stomping everything.
Ayoooo I love this. “Dripping with liquid glass” just really does it for me for some reason :D
Edgy descriptions ftw!

Oooooh 👀 she sounds so PURTY. I’m a sucker for variety in Pokémon species appearances, and this was a really lovely description. I’m also a big fan of the use of nicknames, both for Marcus’s Pokémon and Brock’s. It just makes them feel more like real characters, and like the trainer actually cares about them as individuals.
I LOVE NICKNAMES. And given that this does eventually have a Nuzlocke-esque vibe to it, naming them all and giving them all character is something that I really really wanted to deliver on.

Plus, breeding changing appearances? I think I actually got this idea off some fan art of breeding inspiring cosmetic changes.

One paragraph in and I’m already absolutely in love with Curie, what a precious BAYBEEE 😭
Curie is my cutest baby.

I have some mixed thoughts on this! On one hand, I actually love the idea that some Pokémon view battle as “play.” It makes sense that each mon would have unique feelings and approaches to battling! On the other, I’m not sure how I feel about Marcus manipulating Curie into fighting, especially when it was said outright that she doesn’t have a violent bone in her body.

I’m actually fine with the fact that Marcus sent her out into battle despite her being a baby, because it was clear enough to me that she wasn’t there to fight, only to be a distraction, and that he would call her back at the first sign of real danger. It’s the lying that doesn’t quite sit right with me. Sure, parents have to use white lies to get their toddler to go along with things all the time, but that’s usually because they need to do something for their own good—eat your food, take a bath, go to bed, wear something other than that dinosaur onesie you’ve been wearing for three days straight, etc.

In this case, though, Curie doesn’t need to be battling for her own well-being. She could simply be a companion Pokémon, and would likely be perfectly happiny happy with that. Sooner or later Marcus will be forced to confront the fact that Curie doesn’t like battling by nature.

Now, there are ways to address this. Maybe instead of it being a case of “Curie doesn’t like fighting,” it can be more along the lines of “Curie won’t do anything unless it sounds fun.” And you already have a foundation for the second option! This way, Marcus isn’t actually forcing or tricking Curie into doing something she doesn’t actually enjoy doing, but rather, he’s working with her and adjusting his coaching style to suit her. It’s a simple change that eliminates a lot of unfortunate implications!
I really hadn’t considered it from this perspective tbh. I’d been looking at it like “well of course the pokemon should battle” and ignoring that I’ve made Curie a literal baby.

I do like your suggestion around resolving this issue and I’ll definitely be coming back to this point when I come back for revisions.

Okay this is adorable and Shale and Curie need to be bffs forever now please and thank
Taking this into consideration for Shale’s eventual reappearance!

However, I will say that Brock looks a bit like a major jerk here, and not super professional. If he were a really cocky character such as, say, Silver, I wouldn’t bat an eye at him saying “crush that weakling”—but even then, if Silver said that about a baby Pokémon, it would definitely make him look like even more of a jerk.

So the fact that it’s Brock here, telling his Onix to crush a baby, feels a bit excessive. He can still give a threatening command like “Shale, that’s enough! Let’s end this!” and I wouldn’t mind it quite as much, because that version feels more tactful and professional.

Second, the fact that Brock gets really pissed here feels especially unprofessional. Sure, he has a reason to be unsettled, thrown off, or troubled. But considering he’s fighting a rookie, and it’s also quite literally part of his job to lose from time to time, it doesn’t exactly line up that he would immediately blow his top at the first sign of real trouble.
Noted, definitely some wording to resolve around here. Brock shouldn’t be coming off like that and you’re right that it doesn’t read well.

GIVE HER ROCK BACK RIGHT THIS INSTANT, HEATHENS
Yes, please give Curie back her rock… ;)

I just gotta say, I LOVE that you’re showcasing each Pokemon’s personality here through the way they engage in battle. I haven’t seen much of Curie or Luna at all yet, nor have I seen the way they are outside of battle, but I already feel like I have a solid grasp of their personalities. :D

I also gotta comment on how awesome this battle is; it’s creative, goes way beyond Pokémon just exchanging moves and occasionally dodging, it involves real strategy and flexibility, the Pokémon have their own personalities rather than being mindless machines, etc. One particular thing I’m really enjoying is the fact that you’re making big use of the terrain as part of the battle, too. You’re using the entire arena, and it makes the whole battle feel so much more dynamic!
‘INCOHERENT HAPPY NOISE’

“To” should be “too”
Noted for revision!

Awwww bless. 😭 Ngl that battle was INTENSE, I’m so glad that it was an extremely close one and not a “win by a landslide” type of deal. Marcus and his team are very much underdogs here in many ways, and they had to actually fight for that victory, which makes it feel all the more earned. I also love the way you counted down the seconds in the battle—amazing way to build that tension and to show just how close it actually was!

The only thing I wish was added here in this section was Luna’s reaction. This is her victory, too! How does she react to winning such a tough and close fight? Etc.
Good catch and something I hadn’t considered. It should be simple enough to make that a part of the story fairly easy!

Kan-Jo supercontinent, eh? 👀
Custom geography that makes no sense outside of one specific fic is fun!

YOOO WHAT THAT’S SO COOL
Inspired by the Diamond Onix in the Orange Islands anime!

Wow I’m a big fan of these Pokedex entries, they make the whole world feel so much more real! And they feel like actual entries, too.
They’re usually the fun parts of writing the chapter. I’ve been tempted to make them their own fic, but I’m not down to indulge in that kind of slog for the number of entries I’d have to do.

Wow what a first chapter! That battle was really well-written, and I definitely learned a lot as a fellow writer for crafting my own battle scenes. :okgon:
:veelove:

As for general crit, I suggest looking over the first half of the chapter, the introductory part, and find ways you can condense it and make it more immersive. There’s a lot of Marcus *telling* us what’s what, but you can make it more engaging by showing us what he’s thinking and feeling—such as the example I showed with his dad, or maybe a brief memory of his room as a kid that was all decorated in Indigo League posters, or the fact that his clothing is all tattered and worn because he can’t afford new sets. And so on and so forth.

The last bit of crit is to give Marcus a more compelling reason for why he needs to win this fight so badly, for why he wants to be a trainer in the first place. Maybe establish that his dad is horribly abusive and that Marcus left on his journey both out of spite and desperation to leave home and never come back. Also, why does he want to be champion? Is it only to prove something to his dad, or is there something more to it than that? Etc.
All this backstory stuff is written, just not properly expressed in the early going. I can definitely rework some parts of the opening to introduce his backstory efficiently here.

Can I also just say that I adore the fact that his two Pokémon are cutesy, more feminine-looking mon? And they are both female? It’s so refreshing to see a male MC with a team that isn’t all “COOL AND MACHO MASCULINE MON ONLY”. Big fan of that, and I’m a HUGE fan of the fact that he wasn’t afraid or ashamed to cry when he won. GIVE ME MORE MALE MCS THAT AREN’T ASHAMED OF CRYING, YAAAAS :letsgorb::letsgorb::letsgorb:
Fuck traditional gender bullshit. I like what I like, Marcus likes what he likes.

Two of my favourite evo lines tbh. Marcus’ team is basically the Josh list of underappreciated mons (excepting vulpix, which deserves all of the attention and praise).

I also appreciate you picking up on Marcus not being a MANLY MAN. I personally am not a MANLY MAN, and I put a lot of that into Marcus. So glad to see it go appreciated rather than be called a cuck lol.

Awesome job, and I can’t wait to read more, especially about Luna and Curie :D I LOVE THEM ALREADY
They’re still my two fave team members. Although, a third is creeping up my list.

Thanks for reading! I’ll be sure to take less time to get back to OSAS!
 
Nightmare

Joshthewriter

Charizard Fan
Location
Toronto
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. charizard
Nightmare


The night was black. That was not unusual. The night was always black in Alamos Town. Nestled atop an isolated mesa to the north of the Oreburgh Valley, it was shielded from the radiant light of Jubilife and Hearthome by the small peaks of the Ravaged Path in the west and by the indomitable Coronet Highlands to the east. On top of that, the light from Oreburgh city was hidden by the valley walls and Eterna was shrouded by the outskirts of the forest. So, night was always darker in Alamos. Darker than it was in most of Sinnoh.

Of course, tonight's particular brand of darkness had a strange quality to it. It shifted and undulated, morphing in the scant light cast by the sleepy rural town. Sinister shadow crept into Alamos on the wind, visible against the backdrop of the stars.

Tobias rose from his chair on the porch of his small home on the edge of the cemetery. He sat out in the dark every night the weather permitted it. He liked the simplicity of the night and appreciated the constellations as he watched the sky. He even liked the clouds at night, though he privately dismayed that they blocked out the stars.

Tobias did not like this strange darkness that slunk through the sky and blotted out the night. He scowled at the unnatural darkness and knew that something terrible had come to Alamos.

A shadowed figure sat perched upon the roof of his home, watching the moon disappear behind the darkness of an all-consuming night. Tobias felt unease as a cold shiver ran down his spine.

"Now, now," Tobias said quietly. "It's just the dark. We aren't afraid of the dark."


Morning brought the sun, and with it the shadows that plagued Alamos' sky overnight retreated. Tobias could still feel the unease in the air. It persisted in the fog that rose onto the mesa from the valleys below. It persisted in the chill that froze the morning few to the windows of his home.

He set the kettle to boil and stepped outside again, noting a small group of people solemnly marching towards his home. They were dressed in all black and a casket was sat upon their shoulders. A small procession walked behind them, all clad in black with their faces covered.

Tobias frowned. It wasn't the Hubbard family. He'd been expecting old Mama Hubbard to pass soon, but it seemed that this was someone else entirely.

"Hail, Tobias." The man at the head of the procession removed his black hood. Baron Alberto's bright red hair greeted the day. "I bring grave news."

"Hail," he replied, stepping off his porch. "It is grave tidings for a grave to be dug." He looked over at the blonde woman with her hand on the casket. He did not recognize her, but Tobias was hardly familiar with most of the townspeople. He preferred the solitude the cemetery gave him. "Who has passed?"

Tobias had never been fond of the Baron, most of Alamos had never warmed up to him after his appointment to the lordship. There had been rumours of impropriety in his selection, and the untimely death of the old Lord Godey had done nothing to quell those rumours.

"Tonio," Alberto said quietly. He caught the look of suspicion Tobias cast at him and furrowed his brow. "He was found in the gardens at sunrise."

"Fortuitous that Lord Godey's last descendent should pass shortly after he presented his claim to the Royal Congress of Sinnoh."

Baron Alberto shook his head. "No, Tobias. We are not fortunate at all." He turned back to face the casket and folded his arms. "I would have words in private, about our town's resident shade. Is there anywhere away from these chattel we can speak?"

The dour grave keeper cracked a small smile for the first of the day. The kettle screamed and Tobias gestured over his shoulder. "Come in, your lordship. We'll have a cup of tea and you can tell me all about what you think Darkrai has done this time."


Tobias walked back to his creaking chair by the window in the front room, a pair of large tea mugs held cupped in his hands. He leaned forward, pushing one of the mugs towards the Baron, himself already seated at the small table. "Much better," Tobias "I find that a nice tea often helps clear my mind and your mind seems especially troubled today."

"Thank you," Alberto replied. He lifted the mug and gently tested it. "You seemed unconcerned when I mentioned Darkrai. Might I ask why that is?"

Tobias placed his mug beside him and looked out at the sunny morning. "I saw it in the sky last night," he replied. "It covered the stars. A shame, it was a beautiful night."

The Baron put his tea on the table. "Why must you speak in riddle, Tobias?" He shook his head. "A man was found dead, drained of colour and his face contorted in terror. This has happened before, by your own admission to the Champion."

Tobias' eyes found the lone picture of himself with the Champion, sitting upon the fireplace mantle. They were younger then, more irresponsible. They hadn't known what Darkrai was capable of back then.

"And you think that Darkrai is responsible for this incident." Tobias frowned into his tea. He looked up at the Baron with a solemn expression. "I speak for the shade. He is not responsible for this."

"You will forgive me, but I cannot accept that on faith alone." The Baron Alberto leaned back and lifted his tea once more. "I require proof."

Tobias shook his head. "You know that not to be possible." He glanced down at the Baron's tea and then back up at him. "He does not answer to demands. Not even mine."

Baron Alberto's expression went rigid as his brow furrowed. "You are not above the law, Tobias. A man is dead and your pet shade is responsible." He rose from the chair. "I will see justice delivered. I will see Tonio avenged." He glanced around, his eyes settling on the picture of Tobias and Cynthia sitting atop the fireplace mantle. "Not even your history with our dearest Champion will protect you."

A malignant shadow emerged from the wall behind Tobias. The lamp dimmed and flickered as a living shade materialized in the small kitchen.

The Baron shrank back as Darkrai melted off of the wall, dragging long inky shadows with him. "I will protect Tobias," it said. The shadow spoke in a gravelly baritone, vibrations of darkness seeming to echo the words. "You will leave."

Alberto finally lost his stomach for bravery in the face of the Shade of Alamos. He did not shriek or yell, but the Baron retreated from Tobias' table with a quiet terror. Tobias watched him open the front door of the house and retreat without a further word.

"He will be back," Tobias said in soft amusement as his expression lightened. "Of that I am certain."

The shadows seemed to soften as the shade melted back into the floor. The lamp returned to its previous shine and the sunny morning was sunny once more. Only a small splotch of inky blackness on the floor gave any clue to the presence of the strongest ghost in Sinnoh.

Tobias felt the ancient shade's mind touch his. He felt the vastness of immortality's experience and the vague agreement of an entity shrouded in darkness. "He will be back," the presence agreed.

The grave keeper nodded in solemn agreement. "And we had better be ready when he does."


Two more nights passed. Two more nights of inky splotches descending on Alamos and shutting off the stars. The Baron did not return, but Darkrai could sense the fear radiating from Alamos proper. Something terrible was truly happening.

It was the third night when it finally came. Tobias had hoped that his isolation from the town might give him some protection from whatever was afflicting the town. He had clearly been wrong.

The inky void seemed to descend from the sky like a midnight rain. It soaked into the ground, permeating and drowning any remaining light from Alamos. Even the moon disappeared behind the shadow. Only the small lantern sitting in the front room of his home offered any scant light, and even that flickered as if the darkness might reach out and extinguish it.

Tobias retreated indoors. He calmly lifted the lantern and cast his gaze around the room. The oppressive blackness seeped through his front windows and under the door. Tobias glanced over his shoulder, at the encroaching night that swept across his kitchen and lingered at the edge of his lantern's light.

"Darkrai," Tobias started. "Is this you?"

The shade rose from the floor behind him, melting into the shadows cast by Tobias' lantern. "No," intoned the ghost. "This darkness is not mine…"

Darkrai crept over Tobias' shoulder, gently reaching out with his own whispy darkness. He brushed against the wall of night and recoiled as though it had stung.

"This darkness is not of this world…" Darkrai said in an ominous whisper. "Something here is—"

The door knocked three times in short succession, silencing the shade. Tobias heard the door open, heard the heavy footfalls in the dark. He raised his lantern, trying to peer into the shadow.

It crashed down onto him without warning, dragging him down into the embrace of tartarus and blinding him utterly. But Tobias was brave. He had seen Darkrai's trick before, had known the shade when it was still a vengeful revenant. He did not feel the ghost's presence, but he would not begrudge the shade a little bit of fun.

Tobias' shoulders relaxed slightly. The darkness felt no different than it normally did to him, felt just like Darkrai's embrace always did. It was calming and peaceful and isolated from the rest of the world, just like he liked.

"Darkrai, I tire of this game." He placed the lantern down on the table at his side, a small smile crossing his face. "Enough of this."

A figure loomed from the darkness, alive with twisting tendrils of shadow. A figure that he knew well. Darkrai stepped out of the pitch black room and snuffed out the dim light of his lantern.

"Tricky little gravekeep," intoned Darkrai's grave voice. It served to make his skin crawl and the hairs on the back of his neck to raise. It was a reaction he hadn't had towards Darkrai in years. "Thought you'd stay hidden forever?"

The voice seemed to shift and alter. Tobias heard his own distinct cadence mirrored in the shade's words, as if Darkrai were making a mockery of his own voice. A new trick for the ghost.

"But I have never hidden," Tobias replied. He frowned, unsure of where the shade was taking his joke. "You know that, Darkrai. This is our home, it has been our home for years."

Darkrai's figure solidified and Tobias got a glimpse of the ghost through the unnatural darkness. Its figure was thicker at the waist than normal, a midnight shroud draped from its form.

A tendril of darkness reached up for the black hood pulled over its face. Tobias tensed up. Darkrai had never pulled its hood off before. Something was—

Darkrai was there. His Darkrai. It slid out of his shadow and forced its way in between the other shade and Tobias.

"You will leave!" Darkrai growled. The ghost radiated fury with a guttural growl. "This is our home!"

Darkness swelled before Tobias' eyes, flowing off of his shadow like a great river. He instinctively stepped in front of the lantern, casting a yet larger shadow for Darkrai to draw from.

He closed his eyes as the unnatural wall of unlight surrounded them and pressed in. He felt it prodding and reaching and shut out the world. He trusted Darkrai to see him through, no matter what this was.

A guttural, archaic howl tore through the small cabin. Tobias heard a terrible bout of thrashing and violence and dropped to his knees. A terrible wind tore through his home, and he felt the foundations shake as the two shades mauled each other.

A thunderous crack and cry of anguish forced his eyes open. Darkrai was pinned up against the front wall of his home. His Darkrai. A sea of darkness boiled and raged, drowning his friend in its own element.

He turned and crawled desperately through the pitch black. It was dark, but he knew his home and his friend needed his help. He stumbled to his feet, feeling his way into the kitchen. He felt his way to the counter, his hand brushing against the knife block. He grabbed a gleaming chef's knife as his eyes slowly adjusted to the near-total darkness.

Tobias returned to the front room, knife held outstretched before him. Indistinct shapes tore across his home, tangling and writhing with each other. He slipped through the melee, well versed in the patterns of Darkrai's usual attacks and counters. The opponent's own attacks seemed to mirror their own, their own counters reminiscent of the same strategies that Tobias had used in his league battles.

But this was no League sanctioned battle. This was an all out struggle for survival, a violent outburst that could only be sated by blood. He leapt up, spotting an opening through the thrashing maelstrom of darkness.

The other shade caught him by the throat, effortlessly halting his surprise attack. He felt only a crushing cold grip around his throat.

It turned to look at him and he saw under the black hood. He saw a face that could not, should not have been there. He saw a face twisted and corrupted by dark power that had tempted him once before.

Then it laughed. High and staccato, almost barking as it spoke in a cruel mockery of his and Darkrai's voices. "Do you understand yet, Tobias?"

It released him, dropping Tobias unceremoniously to the floor. His knife went clattering away, spirited by a shadowy wave. He scrambled to his feet, looking up at the shade that had pinned his friend to the wall.

"What are you?" he asked desperately. He backed away in fear as the creature turned towards him.

It reached up, grasping the top of its hood with a free hand and tearing it down. Tobias' own face, infested and writhing with living shadow, stared down at him in utter contempt.

It spoke, in that same twisted mockery of Tobias and Darkrai's voices. "Is that not obvious, Tobias?"

It turned and lifted his Darkrai off of the wall and Tobias saw how grievous the damage was. The shadow cloak that hung loosely around Darkrai's physical form was in tatters. Darkness leaked from spectral tears in the cloak, ebbing away what little strength Darkrai possessed.

"I am you, Tobias. A better you. A perfect you." The shade with his face leaned closer, floating down towards him. He saw the corruption rotting in the abomination's eyes. He saw the truth told by the pain contained within them. "I know you, Tobias. You long for glory. You hunger for power. You searched out this old poltergeist in search of it."

Tobias shook his head. "I don't know who you think I am, foul spirit. But I am not glory fiend. I seek no violence."

"I'm afraid that the violence found you," the spirit growled. It lifted Darkrai, savaging it with a glowing spectral claw and spraying Tobias' home with ectoplasm before it looked down at him. "You'll be coming with me, Tobias. We have much to do."

It dropped the shade on the floor and descended on Tobias. Darkness and shadow consumed the pair and surged back out the doors and window. Flickering light and warmth spilled out into the small home once more.

The dim flame of Tobias' lantern illuminated the empty cabin. Empty, save for the crumpled and oozing shade that lay motionless on the floor.


The sun had never held much lustre for him. He was a creature of the night, an instrument of darkness that prowled on the night of the new moon. The sun that woke him now held none of the power that his preferred celestial body did.

He rose from the floor, nursing the tattered fabric of shadows that he cloaked himself in. They had been damaged, torn from him by claws that mimicked his own. He cast his gaze about, drawing in the meagre shadows of the day and spinning them into the remnants of his cloak. It was not much, practically translucent and possessing none of the power he had meticulously stored in his previous cloak. But still, it would serve until he could destroy the other shade and reclaim his stolen shadow.

Then it hit him with the crushing recognition of his failure. It had gone. The revenant that wore Tobias' face and commanded its own cloak of darkness had gone. It had taken his friend. It had taken Tobias.

Darkrai mentally chastised himself for not warning Tobias sooner. The strange darkness in the sky, the sense of unease filling him, the putrid Baron's fearful warning, he had ignored the signs of danger until it had been too late. He had ignored his instincts and it had cost him.

Angry shouting approached the small house, snapping Darkrai from his failure. He floated towards the front of the house, drawing up what scant power he could gather during the day. Darkrai floated through the wall and stared malevolently down at the rabble marching up the hill.

The Baron marched at the head of the procession. His attendants trailed behind him, an armed retinue marching along in a sturdy column behind the noble. More men marched behind them, a rabble of common folk that easily numbered in the hundreds.

Darkrai growled and drew upon what scant shadow he could muster. "I warned you to leave our home!"

"Where is Tobias?" answered the Baron. "I would have words with him, ghost."

Darkrai gauged the collection of souls before him. All of them burned in anger. All of them felt tainted by fear of the shade's unnatural darkness.

"He is…" he trailed off, watching a half dozen pokemon spring from their balls and swell the ranks of the mob. "Not present," finished Darkrai.

Baron Alberto set his jaw. He met Darkrai's gaze and refused to waver. "Ghost, I will not ask you again."

He released a lickiliky beside him, a fat pink blob that stared hard at Darkrai's malevolent form.

"You and your master stand accused of murder," Baron Alberto spat. He seemed emboldened by the mob at his back and Tobias' absence. He stepped forward, away from the safety of the group for a moment. "What say you, ghost?"

Darkrai felt righteous fury swell through him. Tobias was gone and this imbecile had the gall to accuse the quiet grave keep of a crime.

Darkrai drew up what darkness he had gathered into his cloak and dimmed the mid-morning sky. He was weakened and injured, but Sinnoh's shade still had fight left yet. "I said, STAY AWAY FROM OUR HOME!"

Darkrai did not wait for the Baron to order an attack. He could feel the terror and anger, the blinding fear that blocked out all reason. Darkrai felt it all and realized a simple truth. He did not care. These people despised Tobias because of him. They despised him because he was not human. Darkrai felt that realization snap into place and knew what he had to do.

Baron Alberto's mouth was open, no doubt shouting some insult or verbal jab. Darkrai reached through the man's shadow, wreathing himself in the scant darkness. It was not as effective or as quick as it would have been at night, but it was deadly nonetheless.

Darkrai burst from the shadow on the Baron's throat. His claw tore a wide gash in the man's jugular and Darkrai separated the head from the body with a savage tear.

He heard screaming, a vapid useless outburst that only divided his attention. He focused on the pokemon already moving to defend the living, driving a spectral claw into the lickiliky's gut and tearing an irreparable rend in the normal type.

A pachirisu attempted to loose a bolt of lightning upon him, but Darkrai spun on a dime and loosed a ball of crackling shadow that smote the pachirisu completely. Chaos and shadow tore across the small hill leading to their home. Chaos and shadow was loosed for the first time in years.

He did not know when the attacks stopped coming. He did not know when the mob stopped fighting back. But, once the corpses lay still and cold, he knew that he had gone too far.

Tobias would be furious and sad and disappointed. Darkrai was not a creature of hate, but of shadow and night. Darkrai was not supposed to delight in violence and yet he had. Darkrai looked to the sky, to the mid-day sun that cut through and dispelled his shadow.

Tobias had liked the sky. That much he had always made clear to Darkrai. He taught Darkrai about the phases of the moon, though he already knew them by instinct, and about the sun and the stars. He taught Darkrai about the constellations and stories told by the night's sky and the lessons imparted by those stories.

Darkrai saw himself now in one of those stories, in an old tale about Hisui's nightmare. He knew now that the tale told of Darkrai at his darkest, spreading terror and death across the region until a brave hero captured him and taught him kindness. He remembered now, the old man slipping away after so many years and him returning to the ways of shadow and death.

He did not want to return to the shade.

Darkrai knew at once that he had to rescue his friend. He knew that he would fall back into shadow and death without Tobias and he did not want to. He looked back at the small house, ignoring the corpses strewn about the path. He would save his friend. Darkrai would not fall. Not now, not ever again. He had a friend once more. He would save his friend.

The Shadow of Sinnoh melted into the small shadow cast by the house and disappeared from sight.

Slowly and carefully, it rose from the shadows cast by the hill itself. It descended on the scene of the slaughter, puppeting the empty vessels that had been left behind for its own purposes. The shade knew that Darkrai would return for Tobias. The shade would be ready when he did.


Tobias woke to the greeting of endless darkness. He blinked in surprise and scowled when the darkness did not abate. He knew what that had to have meant. He was alive, a prisoner of a shade that reflected the worst of his potential.

He listened carefully, gently testing the bonds that held his wrists. He felt the restraints tighten at the test and decided against forcing them until he knew more.

"It won't work," said a woman's voice.

Tobias jumped, startled by the sudden sound.

"It can feel the darkness," she continued. "It knew the moment you woke up."

Tobias stopped moving and sat up. He could see nothing, but that was by design. "We have to stop it," he started. "Whatever it's here for, we can't let it take it."

He neglected to mention that the shade had apparently been searching for him. And that now that it had him, he had no clue what was going to happen.

The woman snorted derisively. "Tonio said the same thing," she started. "Tonio is—"

"Dead," Tobias finished.

The woman swallowed the lump that had formed. "He is dead, then?"

Tobias cursed himself for his carelessness. "Yes," he replied solemnly. "He was found in the gardens…"

He heard a muffled sob and fell silent. He had never enjoyed interaction with other people, much less guiding another through a traumatic loss. "I am sorry," he said quietly. "The Baron brought him to be buried. I performed the last rites myself."

She fell silent as well. "Tobias, then…" she asked ominously.

He grunted an affirmation. She did not respond immediately and Tobias feared the worst. That she believed he was the shade.

"It wears your face," she said apprehensively, confirming his fears. "Claims to be you as well."

Tobias grimaced. "It may well be me," he said quietly. "I don't understand how myself." He shook his head. "It claimed to be me, perfected. I cannot claim to understand. I suspect that it is beyond even our dear Champion's understanding."

He heard the woman sigh heavily. "My apologies then, grave keeper."

"It is of no import," he said. "My face or not, some corrupted reflection or not, we must escape. The Royal Congress must be—"

"They will burn," said the dark mockery of his voice. "Pompous fools, one and all. This universe is filled with them."

Tobias looked out through the darkness, trying to pierce the veil and see anything. But the blackout was total and not a single mote of light reached his eyes.

"You will all burn in time. That much is certain." The voice drifted and echoed around the room, seemingly emanating from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Once I have Oracion and your evolution is complete, we will scour this world of life together!"

He grimaced. "Begone, foul spirit. My resolve is—"

It had him by the throat, dragging him through the darkness. He kicked out helplessly, his boots uselessly smacking against the floor. Then he felt it lift him, felt the cold breath of death brush against his skin.

As soon as it had come, it was gone. He was falling backwards through the void. He hit the ground hard, the wind driving from his lungs.

He heard another struggling shout, and the slow scraping of someone being dragged across the floor from above. Then she screamed as she plummeted down towards him. Tobias scrambled to move, but she landed hard on his chest and crushed him back down to the ground.

"Do you think that your resolve matters?" the voice asked cruelly. "Do you think that you can somehow stop this?"

The darkness seemed to abate slightly and Tobias caught a glimpse of an empty nights sky. Tendrils of billowing shadow streamed out of the tower and blocked out the quiet night.

There was still some scant light though, provided by the few residents that had yet to abandon Alamos. Either that, or the shade had simply left them on to offer some fake hope to the few still left alive.

He saw them through the dim light, shambling towards them with arms outstretched.

"Get off!" Tobias coughed, shoving the woman off him.

She scrambled to her feet and looked towards the figures. Tobias heard the sharp intake of breath. Then she screamed and ran, bowling him over as she disappeared into the dark.

Tobias forced himself up. He had to move, he knew what the figures were before they even drew close to him. He had seen what Darkrai could do. He'd seen it puppet corpses and parade them around in a macabre imitation before. He knew that save for striking at the shade itself, he had no recourse.

So Tobias did the only thing he could. He ran headlong into the dark and prayed that he was faster than the monster hunting him.


Writhing, twisting shadow crept across the face of the crescent moon. The small, uninhabited island below rippled as though it protested to the obstruction of the moonlight. Then the blanket of night expanded and spread as it blocked out the rest of the moon.

A beam of solid moonlight carved through his unnatural darkness, illuminating the island once more. A glittering creature coalesced from the moonlight, glowing bands of rainbow light spinning around his sibling's vaguely avian body. Her indistinct shape shifted and blurred behind the rainbows obscuring her true form.

Darkrai gathered what shadow he still possessed and pulled it close to him, leaving only his form as a silhouette against the pale background of the moon. He pulled the cloak over himself and swept back into the night. It was dark here, darker even than sleepy Alamos. While he would have preferred a new moon, the night's sky was a comfort during any of the lunar phases. The shade disappeared into the darkness and rose anew from the shadows cast upon Crescent Isle.

The shade lifted his head to look at the creature borne of glimmering light. "Dear sister," he began in his grim, gravelly tone. "You are radiant as ever."

The moonlight seemed to dance and shimmer around her. "Why have you come, Darkrai?" She floated forward and banished the remainder of his cloak with a warm glow. "Has the human perished yet?"

Darkrai felt a dagger of pain drive into his chest. Tobias couldn't be dead. Not yet. He would know. He cast the pain aside and hardened his heart. "There is another," he began. "Another human, another Darkrai."

"Impossible,"
she replied. The bands of rainbow light spun around her and Darkrai could sense her disbelief. "You are Darkrai. There is no other."

"It is not of this world. It is a foul, unholy abomination of the night. They had merged. Become one being, one whole."
Darkrai shook his head and could feel frustration building. "It plans the same for us. It took him."

"Your human?"
Cresselia replied. Her disdain was clear in her tone. "Find another. There are many."

Darkrai growled. "There is no other like Tobias." He felt the darkness swirl around him as he drew what he could into Cresselia's light. "I must rescue him. If only to banish that…" Darkrai trailed off.

"This creature… it bothers you?" she asked.

He raised his head and looked upon the shifting mirage around her. "It does. Tobias and I… we have—"

"Hmph"
Cresselia interrupted. "You joined with him, didn't you?"

Darkrai nodded. "He has served as my vessel once before. It was… a powerful experience."

Cresselia seemed to retreat from him for a brief moment. "Creator forbade that," she began. "Forbade us from joining with a human. They have no right to your power, brother."

"I had no choice before,"
he replied. "What I did saved Tobias and defeated a man who sought to remake this world and supplant Creator." He shook his head, knowing that his suggestion was a long shot. "There was another—"

"I will not allow that meddlesome woman to serve as my vessel,"
Cresselia answered. "She is—"

"The most powerful human on the planet,"
Darkrai interrupted back. "Champion Queen of Sinnoh, Grand Champion of the Pokemon League and bearing blood blessed by Creator itself. She is a worthy vessel, perhaps one meant for one greater than yourself."

Cresselia narrowed her gaze and Darkrai could feel her displeasure at being outshone by Giratina, or even Creator itself. She did not respond for a long while, forcing Darkrai to wait and feel the intensity of her displeasure.

She was not one to be forced into decisions, but he had no choice. He leaned forward. "I must—"

"I will do it,"
Cresselia responded. "but not for you or the human. I do this only to claim her as my Vessel."

Darkrai's cold, baleful eyes met hers. "Then we have a Champion to speak with."

Cresselia did not answer and simply disappeared on a beam of moonlight. Darkrai's summoned what darkness the trees on the island cast and melted into the blackness of the night's sky.


Tobias had decided that he was supremely sick of the dark. He stumbled over something, the step up to the Baron's long hall, and scrambled back to his feet. The corpses that lumbered after him in the night were not quick but they were persistent.

He kept moving as he navigated Alamos by memory. He cursed himself more than once for not spending more time in town, losing his bearings as he passed the long hall and walked into one of the market stalls.

"I can see you, Tobias!"

The voice was taunting him now. He refused to give the creature an inch of satisfaction. An opponent refusing to engage in his banter, refusing to engage at all, set him on edge and infuriated him to no end. If it really was him, he knew exactly how to push his own buttons.

A powerful beam of light cut through the darkness. It swept across the market square as a half dozen townsfolk wandered into the market bearing lanterns and flashlights.

Tobias ran for them headlong. He waved his arms as a half dozen beams of light painted him. "Run!" he shouted. "Return to your homes!"

A nervous murmur spread across the crowd. Then one of the flashlights swept across the shambling corpses crossing the market and panic seized hold. The crowd scattered as horrified shrieks echoed across the market.

Tobias felt fear ripple through the air as the townsfolk rushed and ran in every direction. He could hear the guttural groans of the walking corpses and the terrifying screech of a townsperson that strayed too close to one of the dead.

The woman's scream shocked him into motion. He moved with purpose, grabbing up the half finished shaft of a spear that sat beside the blacksmith's cart. He didn't wait for the dead to force his hand and dove into the madness.

Baron Alberto's corpse shambled towards him out of the dark. A beam from one of the flashlights shone in Tobias' face for a half moment, but he struck true.

The spear sank deep and tore through the Baron's core, dropping the puppeted corpse to the dirt where it continued to struggle. Tobias wrenched it free, ignoring the pained grunt that the creature emitted. He didn't have time for sentiment. These people were dead, already tainted by shadow. He could not afford the sentimentality, if he had possessed any for them in the first place.

His spear burst through the chest of the puppet. The woman struggling in its grasp screamed and bolted as the corpse's grip slackened. Tobias didn't take the time to keep track of her in the dark. He couldn't spare her even a moment.

Tobias ripped the spear free and bashed the spinning corpse with the butt end. It fell to the ground where it still attempted to rise as through it hadn't just been impaled. Tobias drove the spear into the ground, trapping the corpse to the dirt.

More shouting reached Tobias' ears. The din of battle rang through the small, sleepy town of Alamos and a warm orange glow sprang up at his back.

Fire. A fire was growing, engulfing one of the market stalls as it hungrily reached up into the darkness. The creatures shambled towards the sudden flame as encroaching shadows descended on Alamos' survivors.

They had taken up weapons. A few of the men had grabbed up some of the blacksmith's half finished work. One of them brandished a hammer that was too large for his body, and another held one of the few mostly completed blades in a useless and shaking hand.

Tobias looked up to the sky, at the ominous figure that floated in the encroaching shadow. He saw where the shade's attention lay and saw his chance. The townsfolk would never make it, not with the shade actively hunting them. But he could make a difference if he could just get a call for help out.

Tobias ran. He ran and he didn't look back. Not even when he heard the dead descend on what remained of Alamos. He ran and ran until his lungs could take no more and he had very nearly left Alamos itself.

He burst into the small home and cast his gaze around desperately. A single lantern was dimly shining under the table, obscured by a large tablecloth that hung down to the floor. The small face of a child appeared from under the cloth, looking up at him in terror.

"They went out looking for the monster," the child started. "I don't know—"

"Where is your phone, child?"

The boy pointed over at the small cabinet, and Tobias saw the old rotary phone sitting and waiting. He lifted the handset and began dialling the only number he had ever bothered to commit to memory.


The picture was a hellish reminder of the life they had once held. It sat there on her mantle, as if it mocked her with the possibilities of what could have been. He was smiling back at the camera, an arm draped around her shoulder while she smiled absently at him. Their teams were happily frolicking in the background, like half of them wouldn't be dead by the end of that year

Cynthia shook her head and walked over to the picture. She placed it face down and frowned. Tobias wouldn't have liked her moping around as if he had gone and gotten himself killed. That was why he went to live in a sleepy little hamlet where nothing ever happened. So that he could be bored and alive for as long as he had left. And so that Darkrai stopped terrorizing the more antagonistic half the Royal Congress, though he refused to admit that part to Cynthia.

Her cellphone lit up on the table, a furious guitar riff announcing its anger to the world. She turned and froze on the spot. A murky shade was lurking in the window, casting an impossibly dark shadow that did nothing to dim the brilliant light shining through.

Cynthia did not speak, mentally gauging the threat. Darkrai had never been outright hostile towards her before, but shades were unpredictable at the best of times. Legion, her wily and irritable spiritomb, was evidence enough of that.

"Why have you come, spirit?" she crossed to her small bar and sat, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid and a glass. "I take it that Tobias has not deigned to make the trip along with you?"

Darkrai floated in through the window, an errant breeze silencing the candles she had burning there. "I was unsure of what to do, your grace. I am rather unused to making my own decisions of this magnitude."

Cynthia almost snorted at the shade's words. "You were a ruthless savage last we met. Does Tobias have you observing the pleasantries now?"

Darkrai nodded slowly and Cynthia felt pride radiate from the shade. "He teaches me of your ways well. Though, that is not why I have come." The shade moved aside and the brilliant beam of light he had been obscuring took form in Cynthia's study.

Rainbow beams of moonlight refracted off of her mirror. They swirled back around an indistinct form until they solidified into a corporeal body. The creature emitted a soft tone and loomed over the woman.

Cynthia gasped and bowed her head in reverence. She fell to her knees and lowered her voice in reverence. "Lady Cresselia," she began.

"Child," replied the moon goddess. "The world is endangered. You have served Creator well and saved the world before. Fate would demand that you join me now and do so once more."

Cynthia glanced up at the pair of obscenely powerful pokemon that had invaded the privacy of her home. The Royal Congress thought of pokemon like these as gods. She did not know what to think of them as, but her past dealings with Sinnoh's legends had challenged the idea of these creatures as divine.

"Forgive me for my ignorance," Cynthia said in a quiet voice. "But I was unaware that the world was presently in danger."

Cresselia rounded on her, rainbow mist shifting into vague and indistinct images. For a brief moment she caught the unmistakable silhouette of a trapped god, before the light shifted and replaced it with something far more sinister.

She saw twisting shadows dance among the rainbow light, the laughing face of a man that she had loved puppeting the dark tendrils. Thousands of shambling figures lurched towards the unmistakable gothic spires of Sinnoh's Royal Congress.

"Tobias plans this?" Cynthia asked incredulously. "Gentle Tobias who laid down Darkrai's power by his own choosing?"

It was Darkrai's turn to float forwards and join the conversation. "Not my Tobias," the shade said grimly. He remembered the treasured photo that Tobias had kept on his mantle. "Not our Tobias," the shade corrected. "Something worse, corrupted by darkness."

Cynthia narrowed her eyes. "Then tell me, shade. What are we dealing with here?"

"A visitor," Cresselia answered. "From a world other than our own."

"It wishes to create more abominable unions like itself."


She felt her heart sank. "Just like the way you two defeated Cyrus and Giratina."

Darkrai took pause for a moment. "Yes," he answered. "This is what Tobias and I would have been had he not broken the link and separated us."

"Then we can assume that it is as powerful as the two of you were." Cynthia shifted her gaze to the moon goddess. "Then I suppose it is safe to say that is why you are here."

Pleasant satisfaction radiated from Cresselia. "You are quite correct," she said. "We must—"

Cynthia's phone rang again, loud and aggressive guitar notes breaking into a raucous solo. She turned and knew before she even reached for it who was calling.

"Hello?" Cynthia answered as she picked up the call.

Heavy, laboured breathing came through the phone speaker. "Cyn," said a solemn voice.

Darkrai reacted as though he had been electrified by the man's voice. The cloak of darkness wrapping around him seemed to deepen and expand, reaching out from around the shade to snuff out the light.

"Toby," she replied with all the pain of years lost to them both. "It's been a long time."

"You don't sound surprised."

She had to bite back the chuckle. "I had a visitor," she said as she glanced over at Darkrai. "He filled me in on the situation. Brought some help with him too."

He sighed heavily over the phone. "Thank goodness for that." He paused for a moment and she could hear other voices. Then he was back. "I don't know how much you know. But it's me. It is me."

"I know," she replied. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "how long do you have?"

"I don't know," he answered. "He's looking for something called Oracion. Toying with me by picking off Alamos Town until I give it up."

She raised an eyebrow. "What's Oracion?"

"I have no clue, and I don't know what he's going to do if he figures that out." Tobias paused for a breath and she could hear the exhaustion in his voice. "He's massacred half the—"

She sighed and opened her mouth.

A terrified shriek ripped through the call. It went dead and static crackled before the call dropped entirely.

Darkrai howled as a spectral wind ripped through the Queen Champion's spire. He disappeared on the wind, the night's sky swallowing him entirely.

Cynthia stared out the window for a moment, searching for the shade. "How am I supposed to follow that?"

Cresselia floated closer to her, a beam of rainbow moonlight enveloping the champion.

"Darkrai may use the darkened sky to travel, but there are other means to traverse the night."

The moonlight swallowed Cynthia whole, filling her with such warmth and light that she never felt as though she would be cold again.

Cresselia looked over at her. "It is time that you learned how to travel in true style. Darkrai's shadow travel may be efficient, but traveling by moonbeam is an experience like no other."

The beam of rainbow light erupted from her spire and retreated to the heavens from whence it came. Cynthia's darkened room lay empty, only an upturned picture of two old friends leaving any clue to where she had gone.


The phone rang. Tobias stood there in quiet silence as the boy looked up at him from a place beside him.

"You've reached Cynthia," her answering machine began. "Leave a message."

He sighed and put the phone back down. Perhaps it had been too much to expect her to be awake at this hour. Perhaps he had been foolish to expect her to answer.

"W-w-was that the Queen Champion?" asked the boy in a meek voice.

Tobias nodded, reminiscing of his time journeying with the Champion. "She was… an old friend."

"Can't you try her again?" the boy asked. "She can save us, I know she can."

Tobias looked back at him. A solemn expression overcame him and he felt the exhaustion in his bones. "Can anyone?" he mused quietly.

"Stop it," ordered the boy. "I don't like it. She can help us. She has to."

Tobias looked back at the boy again. He was young, an unremarkable face. Tobias had no clue who the boy even was. And yet the boy held out hope that Cynthia could come and save them if he only called again.

He lifted the phone again, dialling the number again on the rotary. It rang twice and then was picked up.

"Hello?" said the voice of a woman Tobias thought he'd never see again.

He breathed deeply and forced the exhaustion wracking his bones away for a few more moments.

"Cyn," he said in a solemn voice.

The boy's eyes lit up as he registered that she had answered Tobias' call.

"Toby," she replied, her voice wavering almost imperceptibly. "It's been a long time."

He felt a smile come back to his face. "You don't sound surprised."

"I had a visitor," she said with a measure of amusement. Tobias knew instantly that Darkrai had gone to her for help himself. "He filled me in on the situation. Brought some help with him too."

He sighed heavily and glanced down at the boy. "Thank goodness for that—"

"Get her to—"

Tobias leered over at the boy and hushed him. "Go keep a lookout for movement. Stay quiet and only make a noise to alert me if it looks like they're coming for this house." He got down on one knee. "If they do come, you stay hidden and out of sight.

The boy nodded excitedly and dashed off, bounding up the stairs louder than Tobias was happy with.

He lifted the phone and prepared himself mentally for Cynthia's reaction. "I don't know how much you know," he started ominously. "But it's me. It is me."

"I know," she replied. He could hear the wavet in her voice again. "how long do you have?"

"I don't know," he answered. "He's looking for something called Oracion. Toying with me by picking off Alamos Town until I give it up." He leaned against the wall, feeling exhaustion come again in a wave.

"What's Oracion?" Cynthia asked.

Tobias sighed in frustration. "I have no clue, and I don't know what he's going to do if he figures that out." He paused for a breath, fighting to keep himself awake. "He's massacred half the—"

The house came apart on a gale of shadow. Tobias saw a brief glimpse of light as the lantern tumbled off the table and then was snuffed out completely. The cacophony of wooden beams snapping and bricks crumbling was all around him but no debris touched him.

Tobias clicked on his flashlight and he was there. Draped in a cloak of living darkness and standing on limbs that were never human, Tobias grinned back at him from a void that swallowed all the light.

"So," Tobias started. He knew he had to stall for time, but he wasn't sure how long he would give himself. "Let me guess, you never separated from Darkrai when you merged to stop Cyrus and Giratina."

The alternate him nodded his head slowly. Twisting lines of shadow ran along his face, corrupting and marring Tobias' own face. "An astute guess," the alter replied in a cruel mockery of Darkrai's gravelly undertone. "I presume that you did?"

Tobias nodded slowly. "I knew what remaining merged with Darkrai would do to me."

"And you still refused it?"

He fell silent for a moment and swallowed the lump in his throat. He hadn't wanted to separate from Darkrai. He'd wanted to stay together, to drown a cruel world in darkness together.

"No," he replied. "I just chose someone else over giving in to the darkness."

The shade smiled in a cruel replication of Tobias' own. "You chose the Champion," he stated plainly.

Tobias raised an eyebrow. "And you did not?"

It was the shade's turn to dwell on a memory now. Tobias saw the pain there and knew that he had struck something. "She was already gone. Cyrus took her with him and sacrificed her to that… thing." The shade looked back at him and he saw the pain in his corrupted eyes. "I never had that choice."

"My condolences," Tobias said quietly. "But the darkness you dwell in… it is not necessary. You can be more. You and Darkrai both. You can both be whole once more."

The alter closed his eyes. His shoulders bobbed once, then twice. Then the alter broke into laughter, tossing his head backwards. He laughed madly as his shadows echoed and rippled with Darkrai's own laughter underlying the man's.

"Did you believe that you could talk me down?"

The alter bore down on him, wrapping him in shadow and pinning his arms to his sides. Only the scantest amount of light peeked through the cloak of darkness, leaving only glowing and corrupted eyes in the blackness.

"I have become a god, greater than you could ever imagine being. I am made perfect. And I am merely just a soldier in his army."

The shadows squeezed him tighter as they rocketed through the air. Tobias bit back a sob of terror and dismay as the shade carried him into the sky above the sleepy hamlet.

Alamos town was burning. Raging flames tore through the market, casting shadows that danced with glee at the destruction. A path of flames traced back and forth across the town, leading back towards the Baron's home and the tower that stood there.

The base of the tower was aflame, the gardens illuminating the figures gathered and waiting for them.

The shadows released them as they swooped over the garden courtyard. Tobias plummeted the ten feet to the ground and landed hard. He groaned and forced himself up to his knees as the shade landed in front of the tower.

"I will ask again," the alter began. "Hand over Oracion. Hand it over and I will relinquish my hold on Alamos. You may bury the dead in peace and be allowed to live out the rest of your pathetic existence."

The Tobias alter grinned monstrously and Tobias knew what was next before he even started talking. "Or," it continued, pausing for dramatic effect. "Hand over Oracion and join with Darkrai once more. We could rule this universe along with my own, even challenge him once we gain our strength."

Tobias swallowed the lump in his throat. "No," he said calmly.

Shadow swooped from above and drowned out the light of the fires. All he could see was a faint hellish glow and the vague outline of his own face.

"You heard me!" Tobias shouted as he struggled up to his feet. "I don't know what Oracion is, nor where to find it! I am useless to you, just a pathetic man who refused power."

He felt a cold grasp on his throat and fought for breath, trying desperately to get one last snide insult out before his copy throttled him to death.

"Then die no—"

Darkrai hit the Tobias alter like a frenzied beast, claws glowing with a violet light. The alter shrank back, it's cloak of darkness being shredded by the sudden assault. It drew shadows in from every source, dancing flames casting a thousand shadows at once.

It was a flood against an arrow. Darkrai had the advantage of sudden surprise, but against a tide of shadow that Darkrai could not control, an arrow was useless.

Then the cavalry arrived. The moon pulsed with soft cleansing light, banishing the writhing shadows cast by the fires. The Tobias alter drew up what it could but the moon shone brighter than the midday sun. A beam of light descended from the heavens, wiping away the corpses that shambled clumsily towards them. It hit the earth and Tobias saw nothing except the flash of light.

Cynthia was there, standing astride a living rainbow. Tobias felt a warmth in his chest, felt his heart pounding in the presence of Sinnoh's Champion Queen.

He got to his feet. "You came," he said quietly. "Thank you, my lad—"

"Did you actually think I wasn't coming?"

Tobias paused for a moment. "I knew you could never resist a battle like this."

Cynthia wrinkled her nose. "Well one of us has to save the world." She glanced around, seemingly mourning the burning gardens and tower. "And you seem to be doing a fantastic job of it."

Darkrai crashed to the ground in front of them, growling as he retreated towards the pair.

"Ah, to remember the love we shared…"

Cynthia knew what Tobias had said, but her jaws dropped. "You weren't kidding. It's you."

Tobias shot her an annoyed glare.

"You will join me Tobias. Whether I have to force the merger myself or not, you will join me."

Shadows swelled and roared off the tower in streams. They rose into the sky, joining with all the darkness of the night.

Cynthia tensed up, glowing as she allowed Cresselia's power to flow through her. The moon seemed to pulse in unison as the Champion Queen erupted with divine light.

A moon beam smote Cynthia and the moon goddess, supercharging their light as the entire night's sky crashed down upon them.

Tobias felt the weight of the darkness bearing down on them, felt the unbearable pressure suck the very breath from his lungs. Gods were doing battle now. Powers never intended to be used upon the mortal plane clashed and swirled, ripping the ground itself with the violence of their meeting.

He felt his stomach spinning, felt reality losing its hold on him. He reached out for Cynthia, calling out to her as the air was sucked from his lungs.

The void itself descended on the Champion Queen's light. Rainbow beams and burning energy beat back the night but it advanced all the same. He felt exhaustion returning to cloud his mind and fought against the urge to fall asleep.

Then the clash was over as quickly as it had begun. The two gods separated, their light and shadow retreating towards their forms. Darkrai landed in front of Tobias protectively, growling at the alter.

Slowly, painfully, the ancient tower that stood in Alamos' gardens for hundreds of years bent backwards and collapsed. Dust and ash blew up in a huge cloud, smoke and flame leaping eagerly to swallow more of the structure.

"You are more formidable than my own Cynthia was."

Cynthia sneered at the alter's words. "Did she think you were as insufferable as I do?"

The Tobias alter screwed up his face in anger. He raised his arms, drawing up a thousand spear points of darkness. He cast his arms forward in anger and Tobias knew that Cynthia could never stop them all.

He knew what the only option was. He knew what he had to do to save the woman he loved.

He forced himself up, reaching out for Darkrai. He opened himself up to the shade, drawing the lonely pokemon in for something they had both long craved.

Darkrai's shadow touched Tobias' hand and the two halves became one.

He moved effortlessly across the shadow, drawing upon every scrap of darkness he could reach. He threw up everything he had, desperate to blunt his reflection's attack.

Darkness met darkness. Shadow wrestled with shadow. Then moonlight erupted once more, annihilating the night for a brief moment.

Tobias felt inspiration strike him like a bolt of lightning. He knew what he had to do. He knew what had to happen.

He reformed his cloak, stealing the darkness he could from his alter's grasp. Tobias-Darkrai launched himself at the copy before he could gain a chance to recover.

They collided in mid-air, two shades wrestling under the cover of impenetrable darkness. Cynthia drew up what light she could, pulsing the moon in response as she readied Cresselia's moonlight once more.

They hit the earth, tainting the very ground with sinister shadow. Cynthia held back for a moment as the cloak of darkness cleared slightly.

The copy struggled and writhed under the claws of Tobias. His face was flecked with shadow, complexion ghostly white. He struggled to hold the copy in place but his eyes never left Cynthia's.

"Do it," he ordered in a voice that was no longer his own. A voice that Cynthia had only heard once before. "Kill us," he begged in a defeated tone that she knew was his.

She hesitated, the light fading slightly. "I can't do that, Toby."

Tobias snarled at her and she saw the corrupted visage of his reflection peek through. "I won't separate from Darkrai this time," he said solemnly. "I won't make that choice again."

"Maybe you don't have to," Cynthia replied. "I'm different now too. I'm powerful… like you."

Tobias shook his head with the knowledge of a cursed soul. "You aren't like me, Cyn. You aren't like him." He looked down at the copy and sneered again. "I can feel his line of thinking in my own head. I can feel the urge to be what he is, to do what he does." He shook his head slowly. "I don't want that."

She shook her head as she held back the tears. "I… How would I…"

Cresselia turned her head to look at the Champion Queen. "It is my brother's wish as well," the moon goddess said. "They wish to do this as penance for what happened to Alamos."

She shook her head. "I cannot kill them. I cannot—"

"You will," replied Cresselia. "It is our duty."

Cynthia raised an arm. The moon goddess lit up along with her, a beam of moonlight supercharging their power.

Cynthia met his eyes. She saw the shadows dancing behind his pupils. She saw that Tobias believed he was right. She knew what she had to do.

"I'm sorry, Toby."

Cresselia's light flowed through them both. It lit up the burning remnants of the gardens, wiping away shadows with the intensity of a star. She didn't let up until the sun rose and a new day began.

She didn't say anything as Cresselia returned them to her spire. She didn't say anything when her servants entered her quarters to rouse her for the day. She simply mourned the loss, lamenting a love that could no longer be.


Unknown Location, Unknown Universe

"The Shade failed, just as you predicted."

Giovanni turned to the speaker, looking away from the display screen for a moment. "Just as I predicted that he would also plan to betray me at the first opportunity."

Another voice piped up. "Do we plan to try again? Is this particular version of Oracion not what we require?"

Giovanni shook his head. "Unfortunately, with the tower destroyed, Oracion would be useless to us." He scowled and turned his attention back to the display. "There are other ways to bend Arceus to our will, my friends. It is but a pokemon. Rainbow Rocket will find a way." He turned out, smiling at his recruits from across every corner of the multiverse. "We always do."
 

Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
Pronouns
He/Him/His
Partners
  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. quilava-fobbie
  5. sneasel-kate
Heya, here for Catnip. Since the terms of your submission that I rolled were that it was supposed to be for any story that was part of Journey other than Nightmare, I’ll take this as an opportunity to fix a lingering error by jumping into Death of Duty’s first chapter:

Chapter 1

The hallway was dank and dark. It smelled like sweat and blood, crude reminders of what it would take to actually accomplish my goal. There was no noise of the crowd, no searing lights for the cameras, just an old loudspeaker that crackled and fizzed as it spat out its call.

"Challenger to the field!"

Oh well that’s a good omen for how trainer battles tend to go in this setting. /s

Like I get that this is a harder-edged setting, but if your hallway perceptibly smells of blood, it implies that a good amount of it wound up somewhere in it at some point since its last cleaning.

I stepped forward, my hand dropping to the belt on my side. I only had two balls there, only two pokemon for this battle, but I hoped to all hell that they'd be enough.

Protag: “I… should probably be a lot more concerned about them not being enough considering the state of that hallway I passed through.”
:fearfullaugh~1:


I didn't have the luxury of time. There would be no second challenge if I failed here. I'd blown through every scrap of my meagre savings and then more than half a starter training loan in pursuit of this dream. Failure meant crawling back to the smallest speck on the map and staying there for the rest of my life. I'd do what my father wanted, take over the farm, marry a girl of his choosing. Failure meant living the rest of my life in a dreary little village with every second of my life arranged by my father.

So yeah, no pressure at all for failing there.

Though I can already tell that life for normies sucks hard in this world if people are willing to go into debt for a one in a thousand at best chance at successfully making it to the end of a Gym Challenge and clawing their way to the top.

… Either that or this guy has some seriously skewed priorities. I suppose we’ll see which of the two it is in short order.

I hardened my expression. Like hell I was going back there as anything other than a champion. Not after how I left. Not after what Pa and I said to each other. I'd prove to him that I could do what I wanted. I'd be who I wanted to be.

bender-laughing.gif


This just screams “gonna end in tears sometime down the road”, since… yeah.

Yucca Village was a small farming community, not even on most maps unless you bought a local regional map from the northern gate of Saffron City and managed to find the smallest dot on it. Our proudest moment was when the hamlet of a half dozen families got mentioned on the evening news one time nearly twelve years back for naming our village after the cash crop we were most known for. Nobody new ever came. Nobody ever left. Except for me.

Yucca as a cash crop, huh? So they basically raise plants for other people to plant in their gardens? Since not sure what you’re supposed to do with yucca money-wise given that yucca plants as food is pretty niche cuisine-wise.

I stepped onto my platform, heart pounding in my chest. I was surprised by the few spectators in the stands clapping for me. I was a nobody, a bumpkin from a tiny stinking backwater that didn't even rate a mention on any local travel guides. I'd be lucky if I even rated a slot in the evening league recaps for my first attempt at a gym challenge. Unless I did something spectacular, of course.

Bruh, you went into debt for this and you’re already doubting your odds? .-.

I hoped that it was recorded. I wanted at least some record of this, for my own sense of selfish pride and vindication. I wanted some record of the validation that I was looking for. Maybe I could even pay Brock for a copy of the tape, to send back to my Pa so he could see I wasn't completely full of shit and could actually be a real trainer. For a brief moment, I contemplated if he would even watch something like that, before forcing my mind away from my messy family life to the battle at hand.

That… is a terrible omen for how this battle is going to go, really. Since when financial ruin is on the line for failure here, you kinda want to be laser focused on actually winning this thing.

The platform jolted and rose towards the hole in the ceiling. I blocked out the stadium lights as my eyes adjusted to the sudden glare. I nervously tapped my fingers against the pair of balls on my belt. The battlefield was a mess of rocks and sandy dunes, with a single massive rock that had been hollowed out serving as the arena's centrepiece. Many a challenger had attempted to use the hollow network of tunnels and chambers to their advantage and found themselves outclassed by an enemy that knew every corner of the arena as if it were their homes his home.

Wait, isn’t this just Brock here? Is there a reason why you’re not just going “his home”?

Though I see that you’re taking after a mix of Galar’s League and Smash’s various Pokémon Stadium stages for battlefield layouts. It’s a pretty neat vibe, though I have to wonder how on earth the cameras get footage for anything that goes on in those tunnels around the battlefield.

Brock was already waiting, standing implacably atop his command platform. He had foregone a shirt, his arms crossed over his chest and clearly flexing to show off his impressive muscles. I wasn't afraid, I knew it was for show. He wanted me off balance, fretting over appearances while he picked away at at my team. I was a novice, but that didn't mean I was an idiot. I'd watched enough of Brock's battles to know his basic tactics.

Also, I’m pretty sure your family and money troubles on your mind are the much bigger threat to your ambitions right now than Brock’s musculature. ^^;

Brock was an elite-level trainer, one of Kanto's Gym Leaders. He'd been Pewter's Leader for almost fifteen years, after his father before him. He was a powerful trainer, placing in the top twenty in last year's Pokemon World Tournament. He was also the traditional first gym of the Kanto gym circuit, a bar that every serious trainer had to clear. Maybe Erika would have been an easier first gym challenge, but I was never a fan of taking the easy route.

That’s gotta suck for all the kids who grow up Fuchsia City if there’s no difficulty scaling for challengers, though. What with having to go all the way across a region for a viable first challenge. ^^;

The referee's voice boomed out through the loudspeakers and I flinched visibly. It was louder than I'd expected. "This will be a novice-level challenge to the Pewter City Gym leader. Leader Brock will use two novice-ranked pokemon, with no substitutions. The challenger may use as many pokemon as he is able to, with two substitutions. The battle will end when twenty minutes have elapsed or one of the participants is unable to battle."

Oh, so there is difficulty scaling for fights in this setting. Even if I’m not convinced this is a good idea given that Protag flatly said that his team was better-prepared for Erika’s Gym than Brock. Like there’s a reason why FRLG gave Charmander a level-up move at like Level 15. ^^;

Though as a nitpick, I’m not sure if it makes sense for the protagonist himself to note that he flinched visibly unless if he’s seeing himself on a livefeed or a reflection or something. Since from a first-person perspective, that feels more like something that you just “feel” instead of see yourself doing.

I nodded, remaining silent. I wasn't giving Brock a damn thing, not false confidence, no boasting bravado. I was a novice, a beginner who hadn't earned a single badge, let alone even challenged a gym yet. I hadn't earned any confidence yet, even if I privately thought I had a good chance. Brock could have a cocky smirk from me once I'd earned one.

Sure is a great thing you took out a loan for this, huh?

Brock nodded and raised his first ball. I knew it was a geodude before he even reached for the ball. His novice teams were pretty consistent, usually just a geodude and an onix. Sometimes he replaced the geodude with a graveler, but that was usually reserved for higher level novices. Beginners like me weren't worth that kind of effort, something that I was counting on. He tossed the ball into the air. Sure enough, the little floating rock appeared from the flash of red light.

Well that, and the Indigo League E4 would probably screech at him something fierce if he just filtered 90% of their potential challengers at the first gym given that mounting a Gym Challenge apparently costs an arm and a leg in this world.

I smirked, lifting my first ball. I would start strong, and give Brock a taste of what I was made of. I may have been a novice, but I was absolutely not a pushover. It was important to show that, something Pa taught me on the farm. You couldn't let people push you around. I may not have agreed with my Pa about many things, but he had a point about that.

I tossed my first ball into the air with a firm expression. My starter appeared in a flash of red light. A little vulpine pokemon growled menacingly at the rock opposite it, flaring her tails aggressively. Her opponent had the type advantage, but I had learned the hard way never to count Luna out of the fight. My vulpix was a tenacious little monster, well used to fighting unorthodox battles in environments that favoured our opponent. Our month spent making agonizingly slow progress westward over Mount Moon had paid impressive dividends.

bold-strategy-jason-bateman.gif


Like hopefully that bit Luna being an unorthodox fighter isn’t all bluster since… yeah, this guy is gonna need it for this matchup.

"Your move, rookie!" Brock shouted. "Challengers first!"

I nodded. I knew that, of course. I'd been studying training almost my whole life. It had been my dream since the very first Indigo Conference I'd ever watched. So what if it had taken me longer than most trainers to start my journey? No need for Brock to know how capable I really was. Not yet at least.

"Alright Luna, lets get started. Confuse-wisp!"

And just how long has that been, buddy? Since “Confuse-wisp” is already sending up a couple red flags right now. >:V

Though IMO, this block would work better separating the narration and dialogue from each other to make protag’s line stand out more.

I saw Brock's eyebrow raise from across the field. He hadn't expected a combo move, not from a novice like myself. Heck, I hadn't expected to have a combo move ready yet either but Luna was a tenacious learner and had proven me wrong to master the combo.

"Don't let it set up!" he cried.

Oh, so “Confuse-wisp” wasn’t just a butchering of “Confuse Ray” there. I see you can chain moves in this setting kinda like in PMD RBDX. Makes me wonder how those are balanced out with each other.

Though IMO you should elaborate on who is saying that line of dialogue there. I assume that it’s Brock, but the phrasing is ambiguous at the moment.

Luna barked, a burning ball of eerie blue flame erupting out of her mouth. With a flash of her eyes, the flame soared into the air. Wisps of supernatural light followed the flame, dancing across the battlefield towards our opponent.

Oh, so it’s a Confuse Ray and Will-O-Wisp combo. Clever, and sounds like a nasty combination to deal with when it works.

The geodude wasn't idle, for its part. But there wasn't much it could do. Luna was quick. It was very definitely the exact opposite of quick. It tucked its arms into its body and threw itself into a rollout, a vain attempt to dodge the attack.

Yeeeeah, somehow, I doubt you’re gonna get away with playing keepaway until this Geodude keels over. Let’s see how things go when he starts chucking rocks back at your fox.

The wispy flame slammed into the geodude mid-roll, doing nothing to affect its momentum but still painting it a glowing red. That hadn't been the intent though. Luna would never be able to outright stop a geodude mid-roll, not even once she evolved into a ninetales. Creative evasion and disruption were our only real hopes at breaking through its defence.

"Now, quick attack!"

… I see that the protagonist is a gambler there, since that’s definitely a super ballsy move to start your Gym Challenge off against an opponent where one wrong move could spell a loss that you are unlikely to be able to recover from.

I can already tell that this sort of risk-taking is going to come back and bite him in the ass at some point. Potentially by the end of this chapter.

Luna shot off like a rocket, darting out of the geodude's path with practiced ease. The rock type attempted to compensate and follow, but careened off course. It plowed into one of the hundred boulders dotting the arena and cracked the gigantic stone in half as easily as I could crack an egg. I grimaced internally. That would hurt if it landed. Luna needed to be perfect, and the geodude only had to land one solid blow. It was a recipe for disaster.

Luna: “*We could’ve been roasting plants in Celadon for our first Gym, but nooooo...*” >_>;

However, reality proved far less pessimistic than I was. Luna kept up the assault, barraging the geodude with eerie wisps of flame and forcing it to fight an uneven battle as we whittled it down. It wasn't the boldest strategy, or the flashiest. Hell, it wasn't even a particularly brave tactic.

That didn't matter to me. It limited how much damage Luna would take. My entire gym challenge hinged on her doing the heavy lifting in this battle, at least until I could train up my other team member to a respectable degree or even catch something for myself. I needed to take the geodude down with minimal damage in return.

This strategy is just going to run straight into a wall once Brock’s Onix comes out, isn’t it?

I do wonder if this paragraph would’ve worked better broken in two, though.

The geodude changed tactics, slamming into another boulder and smashing it into pebbles. It didn't look like it had taken much damage at all, but rock types were like that sometimes. Something to do with their heavy outer carapace or something makes that made them more resistant to physical damage. Resistant however, did not mean immune. It had plowed through at least half a dozen of those boulders chasing after Luna, and as well as taken so many of Luna's wisps that the rock pokemon was glowing bright red. It had to at least be feeling something at this point.

Buddy, I’m pretty sure you’re tempting fate in live-time right about now. ^^;

I spotted the opening I had been hoping for. The geodude wobbled slightly and shook the confusion from its eyes. It dug both hands into the ground, tearing loose a slab of rock that had been hidden under the sand.

"Another confuse ray!"

Another spinning helix of eerie lights erupted from my vulpix. They sank into the geodude's eyes and I smirked knowingly as a slack expression crossed the rock type's face. Its arms wavered and bent as the slab of rock dipped dangerously back towards it.

… Wait, how many of those rocks does Brock go through in a day between various challengers anyways? Since you’d think that eventually, they’d run out of boulders for him to break with his fights. .-.

Though this is another instance where I thought that separating the dialogue from the rest of the paragraph made it stand out more.

"Toss it away! Now!" Brock was shouting, realizing the threat. It was too late though.

His geodude pitched the slab as hard as it could. But its dizzied confusion had already taken a toll. The stone slab slipped free of the geodude's hands as it fumbled the throw. It crashed down on top of the little rock, utterly crushing it beneath.

Ouch, though I’ll give the protagonist props. That genuinely was clever strategy there.

My shit-eating grin probably burned into Brock's mind permanently. I smirked and pointed forward with a simple, decisive order. "Incinerate!"

Luna leapt atop the cracked stone slab, hunting for a suitable crack. She found one within seconds, all while we could hear the geodude angrily struggling to break free. She puffed her chest out and inhaled deeply. A torrent of flame poured from my little vulpix, superheating the slab of rock and melting the sand beneath.

Yeah, that one’s gonna leave a mark on that Geodude. Hopefully healing technology’s good in this setting.

Now, I knew that the fire itself wouldn't do much to the geodude. They were practically immune to pain. But that wasn't the point of the attack. I didn't have anything that could hit them effectively. Given time, Luna may have been able to whittle it down, but we had to at least take out one of Brock's pokemon.

So my only choice was to trap it, so that Brock would be forced to concede his geodude. It was an unorthodox tactic, to say the least, but I didn't have the strength to stand up in a straight up brawl yet.

Another long paragraph that might work better getting cut up. Though I’ll admit, thus far, protag’s doing a much better job at not just hitting a wall with his strategy than I was expecting.

As the sand beneath the slab melted further, I looked over at Brock. His arms were held calmly at his side. His hands were clenched into tight fists, betraying his outwardly calm expression. He had seconds before the molten sand hardened into a tomb of glass, seconds before his geodude was trapped and I won this round.

"Rollout!"

… Whelp, might’ve spoken a bit prematurely there. ^^;

I grimaced as I played it out in my mind. It could work. "Get clear of it!" I shouted, too late to make a difference.

Protag: “Oh crap...”
:uhhh:


The geodude rocketed through the molten sand, emerging from the ground several meters away. It was bright red, dripping with liquid glass and glowing with heat. We had it on the ropes, but now the little ball of rock was gonna try to turn the tables on us.

Luna: “*We could have started with Erika! I could’ve been torching her Pokémon for days!*” >.<

Luna leapt away from the geodude's attack, barely rolling out of the way as the glowing rock barrelled past. It crashed through another boulder and barely slowed down as pebbles showered down on the battlefield.

"Get inside the big rock!" I ordered, hoping that Luna had enough left to keep the speed up until the geodude ran out of steam.

de7.png


She turned on her tail and bolted, sand kicking up in her wake. The geodude was coming around, still gaining speed as it looped around the arena.

I saw it coming. Luna wouldn't be quick enough to avoid the geodude. It would smash into her side and the battle would be over.

"Incinerate!" I shouted again. "Melt the sand in its path!"

Boy does Luna have some impressive discipline to not just lose her nerve in these situations given how rapidly this battle is going sideways. Assuming that she’s cognizant of that.

Luna, bless her little soul, knew exactly what to do. She planted her feet as the geodude rounded the arena and bore down on her. She puffed her chest out and sucked in a quick breath. It wasn't as powerful as the last one, but the jet of flame that she spat was still enough to melt a patch of sand several feet wide into a pool of sludgy liquid glass.

The geodude plowed into the puddle, spewing globs of red hot magma in its wake. Luna dove for the side, too slowly to avoid the geodude. They collided and Luna yelped something fierce as the scorching hot ball of rock tossed her like a flailing rag doll and crashed face-first into the central boulder.

Ouch.

Yeah, so much for that brilliant plan of taking minimal damage while knocking out Brock’s Geodude to move onto his Onix there.

I raised her ball, ready to return her if I needed to. She'd done enough, and I needed her for Brock's second pokemon. The geodude had to be—.

"Leader Brock's first pokemon has been defeated. The challenger has taken the first round."

Protag: “Um… yay? I mean, my plans for the next round have kinda been shot to hell, but at least I won?” ^^;

I leapt nearly a foot in the air, not expecting the referee's voice to come so soon. I forced down the feeling of elation and recalled my starter, knowing that the easy part of the battle was done. What came next would be immeasurably harder.

giphy.gif


Brock smirked and nodded to himself. "You're good, better than I expected for a novice." Now it was Brock's turn to wear the shit-eating grin and he knew it. "Still, this isn't over and we both know that." He lifted another ball off the pedestal on his platform and tossed it into the air. "Let's see how you handle Shale!"

Oh, so your Gym Leaders nickname their Pokémon, huh? I mean, it makes sense in a setting where the random normies nickname their Pokémon that major NPCs would do the same as well. Though I wonder if there’s a backstory behind “Shale” there.

Brock's prized onix appeared with and earthshaking roar. She tossed back her pale green tinted head and screeched a defiant challenge as she stretched up to her full height. I knew what to expect. Shale was Brock's pride and joy, bred from the titanic onix that fought on Brock's championship team. She was a pale green, almost twelve feet long, flecks of silver metal running through the boulders that made up her serpentine body. It was a side effect of her parentage, something to do with being the offspring of Brock's first onix and Galar's Raihan's prized duraludon. She would be a monster in a few years, but right now she was just a baby. I was relying on that youth for my plan.

Can’t tell if Shale is supposed to be Shiny, or if that appearance is an artifact of her cross-species heritage. Though either way, that’s definitely a distinctive look there, and a reminder that we’re in our own canon here since I could’ve sworn that Brock’s Onix in the games was consistently male.

It made for a damn impressive showing. I knew my second pokemon would look downright feeble compared to it, but that's what I expected at this point. It was common practice for Gym Leaders to use at least one pokemon that outclassed anything you could throw at it. Helped you think on your feet and formulate strategies that played to the strengths of your pokemon.

Oh, so it’s not just “keep whaling until one side has all their Pokémon down” like in the anime / games in this setting. So then does the challenger automatically lose if they don’t defeat all of the Gym Leader Pokémon even if they pass a majority of rounds?

Unfortunately, my second pokemon didn't have many strengths for me to play to. She was nearly useless in battle, even when she did decide to listen to me. It was absolutely hopeless. She just didn't have a violent bone in her body. Even if she could have lifted things fifty times her size, she would never use that strength in a violent way.

That… sounds like an absolutely cursed combination for the ‘mon you’re counting on defeating a Gym Leader’s team flagship. .-.

I raised my second pokeball and smirked with anticipation. Now I'd earned the right to be cocky. It might even help the act, even if it would probably piss Brock off. Brock had seen my strength. Now he would see my smarts.

"Play time, Curie!"

My two-foot tall, ball of pink joy materialized on the field and I felt our momentum come to a crashing halt as my precious happiny goo-gooed adorably at the terrifying onix.

… I really hope that Happiny knows Seismic Toss or something, since that ‘mon’s gonna need it.
:ohnowen:


Brock couldn't help the burst of laughter that came forth. His rock snake mirrored him, shaking the entire arena with deep rumbling laughter.

Curie: “*Wow, rude.*” >.<

Now, Curie might not be a violent soul but she can stall a battle somewhat effectively if she's coaxed into it the right way. She was a baby. All she really wanted to do was play, and if I could present the battle as a game then she'd cooperate for the most part. At least as long as her attention span held out and her opponent was willing. I figured Shale just might be young enough to play along.

They’re… gonna Toxic stall Brock’s Onix into a loss, aren’t they? Since I can see that mention of “stall a battle” there, and I’m genuinely struggling to think of how Happiny could defeat an Onix without some sort of tactic like that.

So I did the only thing I could. I blatantly lied to my little baby. I got down on one knee, looking down at Curie with a happy smile on my face. "Hey, Curie!" I shouted.

She looked up at the sound of my voice and started hopping happily at the sight of me. It melted my damn heart.

Brock: “... Buddy, has your Pokémon ever seen a battle outside a slap fight at a Day Care?”
:eltywtf:

Protag: “Trust me, I wouldn’t have brought her if she didn’t.”
Brock: “... Whatever, you’re the one who signed the indemnity waver. Just don’t blame me when Shale runs her over since I’m not eating a TKO and just giving you a free badge because you thought it was a cute idea to field a ‘mon obviously out of her league.”
:eltyunamused:


I pointed over at Shale, putting on my playful voice. "See that big mean onix?" I asked. "She wants to play!"

Curie hopped up and down on the spot, looking back and forth between Shale and I. She squealed happily and bounded towards the onix without waiting for my command.

Brock: “Buddy, your Happiny better be a lot better trained than she seems right now, or else I’m calling Protective Services on your ass after this match.”
:unimpressed:


Brock stopped his laughing and raised an eyebrow. "Defence curl!" He ordered. Shale rumbled a response and coiled herself around a boulder. My little happiny wouldn't be able to do a single thing to hurt the onix, which was fine by me. That was never the plan anyways. We had a timer with fourteen minutes left on it. All we had to do was run out the clock.

Wait, running out the timer automatically counts as a win for the challenger in this setting? If so, how are stall teams not a dime a dozen by virtue of being a relatively cheap and effective strategy to make it deep into a Gym Challenge? ^^;

Curie bounded over to the coiled onix, giggling madly. She bounded up Shale's coils and made her way towards the massive serpent's head. She puckered her lips and planted a sopping wet kiss on Shale's nose.

She’s… going to actually do Toxifusion as a strategy, isn’t she?

Now it was time for Brock to learn the hard way why I still had confidence that I could pull off a win. Curie might not have had a hope in hell at actually defeating Shale in battle, but she was a charming little angel. Once she sunk her adorable little claws into you, you were completely at her mercy.

… Oh? So she’s just going to Charm Shale’s will to attack down into the bedrock? Sure hope that she’s developed enough to tank a few hits. ^^;

Shale raised her head, studying the little ball of joy on her coils. Curie cooed at the terrifying rock monster, melting that stone heart as easily as she did mine. Shale rumbled softly and nudged her opponent with her nose.

"Shale! Crush that weakling!"

Wow, no hesitation at all from Brock, huh? Stone cold there. Must say that I didn’t expect that based off his anime depiction.

The onix looked back at her trainer and whined, something I had never heard from an onix before or since. She shook her head and looked back down at my gibbering happiny with a fond rumble.

Curie pulled the small, smooth stone from her pouch and held it up towards Shale. The onix rumbled again, low and slow. Shale lowered her head and nuzzled my Curie affectionately.

Brock:
man-ray-facepalm.gif


Brock was absolutely livid. He was practically hopping in place, his face bright red. Shale was completely ignoring his frantic commands, enamoured with Curie's adorable antics. She was nuzzling Curie with her snout and laughing deeply when the little happiny planted another kiss on her.

… Wait, how is Curie doing this anyways? Is this supposed to be Attract and it just ignored the gender matchup? Or is this just completely divorced from game mechanics right now and Curie is just taking advantage of being a cute lil’ egg there?

Since if this isn’t some abstraction of game mechanics, I’m surprised that this is working given how different Onix is from Happiny biologically and morphologically. Not that seeing Curie become an omelet in live-time would be a great feeling.
:fearfullaugh~1:


As I had been expecting, Shale was not immune to Curie's adorable charm. She was a monstrous serpent, a titanic mass of solid stone and yet she was at the mercy of a two foot tall pink blob.

Protag: “So I’ll just be taking my badge now and-” :V

Then, disaster struck. Shale must have shifted as she laughed, because Curie stumbled and flopped onto her back. Hard. I winced, knowing that we were all in very deep shit.

Protag: “... Crap.”
:uhhh:


Curie's little rock, the one she had offered to Shale, bounced off the onix's coils and rolled into the sand as Curie watched on in abject horror. I plugged my ears with two fingers, waiting for the inevitable.

Curie absolutely exploded with sound, wailing at the top of her infantile lungs. Shale recoiled from the noise, wincing and shutting her eyes. They were across the arena from me, still at Shale's starting position. Curie's agonized wail was still ear-piercing at this distance. I could scarcely imagine the discomfort that Brock was feeling, let alone the punishment Shale's eardrums were enduring.

Brock: “Yeah, I am absolutely calling Protective Services on your ass after this match.”
:unimpressed:

Protag: “Look, in my defense, I thought she grew out of this!
:grohno~1:


Shale lashed out, flinging Curie across the arena with a flick of her tail. Curie bounced twice and came to a crashing halt against the hollow boulder in the centre of the arena. She slammed her little feet into the ground with a furious tantrum and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Well, Curie is confirmed for being trained enough to already be decently tanky, since for a moment, I was worried that was just going to be the end of the battle.
:fearfullaugh~1:


"Curie! Hide and seek!" I shouted, hoping desperately that she would forget the little round stone she had dropped and stop wailing long enough to hear me.

I had no such luck. She just wailed harder, mourning her lost rock with all the fury of a confused infant. With a grim scowl, I lifted her ball off my belt and returned my happiny to her ball. I was proud of my baby girl, but at the same time my entire gambit was now at risk.

Brock: “Oh great, what are you gonna do now? Send an Igglybuff to sing Shale to sleep?”
:judgemander~1:

Protag: “... (Dammit, that actually would’ve been a decently solid idea there.) Actually, no. I was just about to send out…”

I needed Luna to be perfect now, needed my vulpix to run down the rest of the clock. I glanced up. Four minutes left. Four minutes of Luna evading a twelve foot rock serpent.

Oh, so you do need to go through these matches in a shutout as a challenger in order to get your badge. That’s definitely an added layer of difficulty over most branches of canon.

That had been the crux of my whole strategy. Neither Curie nor Luna had anywhere near the strength to bring down Shale. Our only hope at victory was a prayer that we could win on a technicality. If I could outlast Brock, run the clock out without Luna going down, then I would win the match. I still had two conscious pokemon to Brock's one. I would win by virtue of outlasting a titanic onix that I couldn't even scratch.

You see, that’s a great strategy aside from the fact that it’d probably piss off some gym leaders enough from the manner in which you stalled your way to victory to call whatever the Pokémon equivalent of CPS is on you afterwards out of spite to try and get your license yoinked. ^^;

I lifted Luna's ball and mouthed a silent prayer. There were no more substitutions. It was just me against Brock, Luna against Shale, raging fire against stoic stone. I tossed Luna's ball and smirked as my confidence came flooding back. We could do this.

"Alright Luna, remember the plan. Be fast, be smart, be strong."

Protag: “Oh, and try not to die out there.”
:fearfullaugh~1:


My vulpix looked up at me, eerie light already flickering behind her eyes. She knew exactly what she had to do, what I expected of her. She snorted a puff of smoke at me, as if outrunning a 4 ton rock serpent was beneath her.

This is either going to be amazing or a gigantic disaster. Nothing in between.

Brock took the first move, ordering Shale into pursuit of Luna. His onix didn't even wait for him to finish, lunging forward in an attempt to end the battle quickly.

… Promising start already there!
:unquag:


Luna was gone in a flash, bounding out of Shale's path faster than the onix could turn. A barrage of levitating blue flames slammed into Shale's side, superheating the stones and drawing a rumble of annoyance from the onix. It wouldn't do much, but there was a chance it would slow Shale down.

I mean, don’t burns chip off an eighth of your health each turn? It’s just a matter of playing keep away long enough until Shale keels over… or Brock breaks out the Full Restore, but let’s think positive here!

"Quick attack!" I shouted as Shale pivoted on the centre of her body. She swung a bladed tail through the sand, wiping away a pair of small boulders that had the misfortune of standing in the wrong spot. Luna was a rust-coloured blur, dashing out of the way of Shale's tail in a spray of sand.

She was quick, but Shale was faster than a gigantic rock monster had any right to be. Fortunately, we had a way to slow the massive onix down. We just had to land it.

"Confuse wisp!" I shouted.

Oh, I guess Shale wasn’t burned… yet, anyways.

Luna skidded to a halt, eerie wisps of burning ghostly light conjuring from nothingness. They spun off towards Shale as Luna dashed away from the Onix's descending tail. It slammed into the ground, throwing sand into the air with the impact.

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQeezCdF4mk


I swore under my breath. Brock had covered his ass well and trained Shale very effectively. Luna was faster, but not by enough for me to get comfortable. The battle was going to come right down to the wire.

"Get clear!" I shouted. "Long range barrage now, confuse wisp!"

Cue some cheap trick like throwing a clod of sand in the way or something like that.

Protag: “Dammit, I really should’ve picked up an Igglybuff with Sing for this fight.” >_>;

Luna scrambled away from the thrashing serpent, kicking up a spray of sand behind her as she went. She skidded to a halt halfway across the arena and spun to face the onix.

Before she could cough out a single wisp a boulder slammed into the ground not three feet away from her. Luna yelped in surprise and dashed away, barely avoiding the second boulder that crashed down where she had been standing mere moments before.

Oh, well this battle is going swimmingly right now.

Protag:
giphy.gif


"Top speed!" I shouted, knowing that Shale held damn near every advantage without confusion muddying her mind. "Find cover!"

Luna: “*I’m sorry, have you bothered looking at the battlefield right now?! Where am I supposed to find cover?!*”
:grohno~1:


Luna turned in a blur, weaving through the barrage of rocks that Shale was pitching at her with ease. She ducked and weaved, cutting and turning just in time to avoid each incoming rock. I felt my pride swell in my chest as my precious little vulpix motored at speeds that would have even impressed an agility boosted mon.

She’s gonna get hit in like five seconds, isn’t she?

She dashed in as Shale went long, abandoning the confuse wisp for a faster and simpler confuse ray. The spinning helix of ghostly lights sank into Shale's head and the Onix's eyes went dim. Luna doubled back as her opponent launched another barrage of earth, simply scraping up a layer of dirt and sand and flinging it at Luna.

My vulpix retreated beyond the range of Shale's tail and spat an ember of flame that smacked harmlessly against the onix's carapace. She dashed away as Brock ordered another barrage of rocks.

Whelp, I hope that Brock has some decent projectile protection for the stands, since ordering a confused Onix to use Rock Slide sounds like a gigantic recipe for disaster otherwise. ^^;

Shale roared in frustration as her last boulder sailed just wide and crashed harmlessly into the sand. She surged forwards as the clock ticked down to the last twenty seconds.

Protag: “... Holy crap, it’s been three minutes and forty seconds already? Come on, Luna, hang in there just a little longer…”

Luna turned as the onix gave chase, cutting close to the massive hollow structure in the centre of the arena. It was a gambit, banking on Shale currently moving too quickly to turn easily. Shale slammed into the base of the boulder when she cut too closely, shaking the entire damn arena.

Oh, so that’s where the title of this chapter is from, huh?

Luna was gone, disappeared into the rock. Less than fifteen seconds was left on the clock, but our greatest advantage was nullified in close quarters. All Shale had to do was twitch the wrong way and Luna would be crushed up against the wall and we would lose.

I’m… not sure it would just be the match that Luna would lose there.
:fearfullaugh~1:


Ten seconds left as Shale disappeared into the boulder.

Seven seconds left and the arena shook as Shale found her prey inside the rock.

Protag:
:uhhh:

Luna: “*Excuse me, but I’m the one about to get crushed by a giant rock snake here!*”
:eltyscared:


Five seconds left and the arena shook violently with a titanic impact.

:Riplup:


Three seconds left and Luna peeked out of the top of the rock.

Oh, well maybe not then.

Two seconds and Shale was following her onto the top of the rock.

Boy is this really coming down to the wire right now.
:sweats:


One second left and Luna was out of space. There was nowhere to go. Shale was raising herself to her full height. My precious starter was trapped and we were out of options.

The horn blared and I exhaled the breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. I unclenched my fists, breathing calmly as my heart pounded in my chest. It was over.

Protag: “Oh thank god, that actually worked.
:blazisweat~1:

Brock:
:REEquaza:

Protag: “... Assuming that I can get out of this gym before Brock screws me over out of spite.”
:fearfullaugh~1:


The referee's voice crackled over the loudspeakers, sounding sweeter than I had ever imagined a bored teen sounding. "After expiry of the timer, the challenger has two pokemon left to Leader Brock's one. Challenger Marcus Wright, of Yucca Village, has been declared the winner!"

Ah yes, the official namedrop. I can already tell that Marcus is going to become popular among the Indigo League’s members by the end of this story. Assuming he makes it that far. :V

I didn't hear the small smattering of cheers from the stands. I didn't hear the referee continue to drone on about my victory. I had won, I had beaten Brock. My eyes found Luna and I didn't care to hide the tears that fell freely. I was a trainer now. For real. And there wasn't a damn thing anybody could do to change that.

Well, until Brock calls Protective Services on you and you spend like three hours and a few cups of green tea explaining that Curie in spite of all appearances is actually properly trained and the complaint he called in was a nuisance call. :V

Pokédex Entry #95: Onix

Onix are large, serpentine pokemon that are native to nearly all mountain ranges in the Kan-Jo supercontinent. They serve as the region's supreme apex predator, capable of going toe to toe against any landlocked opponent.

Tyranitar:
shikimori-shikimoris-not-just-cute.gif


Though still a fascinating take on them dex-fluff wise. And figures that a Pokémon that’s effectively a sandworm from Dune would be a bit less of a pushover in a more hard-edged setting than they are in-game.

Nearly fifty feet long when fully grown, most onix resemble titanic serpents made from a series of connecting boulders. A few specimens have been comprised of darker, harder boulders. This is possibly a result of their aging process.

Unfortunately, study opportunities are exceedingly limited due to the species' aggressive nature. Most specimens succumb to battle wounds long before they age to maturity, and even fewer survive to old age. Legends persist of an ancient onix comprised of solid diamond, but few credible sources can confirm this with any reliability.

I kinda wonder if the dex entry segment would’ve been a bit easier to read if only the header was bolded and the rest of the text were either normal or italic, but regardless, this is some good stuff here.

Novice Trainer, KT#07966101, Marcus Wright

Luna, Vulpix

Curie, Happiny

Ah, so we’re tracking Marcus’ team during this story, huh? It’ll be interesting to see how it evolves.

Though onto the postmortem:

Alright, to start with what I liked with this chapter, starting with the elephant in the room—dat battle choreography, man. You’ve gone on and on about how Journey’s stories in general exist to have fun with writing battles, and honestly it shows here. You managed to make a battle scenario that normally is one of the most boring things in the world to see in actual gameplay fun and gripping, so hats off to you there.

I’m also pretty impressed with the worldbuiling that you’ve managed to get out already, especially the stuff in between the lines. Granted, I might have a bit of an unfair advantage since I’ve read 2 one-shots that share a setting with Death of Duty already, but the world feels like it’s well put together with lots of little details that mesh together. Like it’s clearly a harder-edged world between the entering crawl and Marcus mentioning that he went into debt for a chance to be a champion, but it definitely feels like a coherent vision here. Even if the rubber has yet to truly hit the road for this setting’s grittier brand, you managed to cut a profile for your world that stands out, and I’m looking forward to seeing more of it.

Alright, and onto the stuff I wasn’t so hot on. Fortunately, I don’t have that much to complain about, but I did see that you had some minor typos and verb tense errors here and there, consider doing a quick and dirty stepthrough to cull them at some point. I also noticed that there were paragraphs here and there in the chapter that were a bit too jampacked, to the point that they likely would work better broken up into smaller pieces. This especially seems to affect character dialogue that is attached to a decently lengthy paragraph. Now some of it might be in part a personal preference thing, but dialogue usually starts to blend into paragraphs once it hits a certain length, and separating the two can help ameliorate that a bit.

Also, while it’s a bit nitpicky, but Brock’s reaction to the Happiny kinda took me out of things a bit, unless he’s just meant to be an asshole in Journey’s setting. Like I get that Pokémon settings and a number of Pokémon species are textbook “don’t judge a book by its cover”, but you’d think that Brock would have a bit more initial pause at fielding his star Pokémon against one that outwardly acts like a baby, especially when battles get heated enough in this world that the entrance hall smells of blood from prior Pokémon that got particularly thrown around.

Like unless if Brock’s got a game-style gauntlet of trainers to filter out dweebs who seriously think their month-old Pichu is really cut out for a gym challenge before they get their Pokémon seriously hurt, you’d think that would be the part where he’d pauses the match and pulls Timmy Challenger aside to say, “Timmy, your Pokémon’s going to become a bloody smear on my battlefield wall if you fight my Pokémon with its present level of training, you should forfeit and come back next year when you’re both further along” if not flatly refuse to carry the match on further. Since not every behaviorally childish Pokémon is a Curie, and one would think that at least from a PR perspective that Brock would at least make a point of giving a CYA for himself before proceeding to try and grind Pokémon like Curie into the battlefield floor.

… Or again, he could just be an asshole and not care about all that, that would work too. Especially since this is a harder-edged world.

But altogether, I don’t really think that was enough to change my opinions of this chapter, since I thought it was a really strong first foot forward for Death of Duty I myself try to come up with some clever battle choreography myself, but you clearly challenge yourself to come up with some unique scenarios. Color me impressed @Joshthewriter , since even if it might take a while, I’ll be keeping an eye on this story in the future. ^^
 
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