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Nate sighed when Darkwhite teleported out instead of... turning into a beautiful prince, or whatever the dick was supposed to happen when you mentioned someone's true name or whatever the fuck. Godammit. It wasn't like he gave a shit one way or another if she had whatever fucking personal...

Rocky leaned down and whispered to Nate, "Oh, boy, I'm excited! She's gonna do something! Are you excited? I bet you're excited, this is really exciting!" "You're fucking psychic, ain't you? You tell me."

"Hello?" Rocky said into the badge. "Are you there? Can you hear--oh." Arceus appeared in a burst of golden energy. "I guess he's busy." "That guy," Nate growled, watching Karat struggle against Arceus' chains. It fucking figured. What the fuck did you expect from a fucking mewtwo? And there...

Nate scowled while his teammates ganged up on Darkwhite, his gaze flicking between the mewthing and Shield. If she fucking poofed after all the work he'd done to get her here... But, thankfully, she seemed too distracted to care much about losing the pokéballs. Whatever was going on between her...

"Yeah, you got it!" Rocky said when Darkwhite recalled Groudon. "Do you know how to juggle? Pokéballs are good for that. Usually people keep them on special belts when they have a lot of them, but probably nobody around here has one. I mean, they wouldn't, right? Pokéballs aren't supposed...

Like this place really needed more damn heat. The air near Groudon boiled, and Nate's skin blistered even just being in his vicinity. Rocky was having a great time, of course. "All right," Nate growled. "Looks like the team's slowing down a bit." And also speaking some other language? Was...

"Well, that did all of jack shit," Nate grumbled. Loudly, in order to be heard over the whipping wind and whizz and crash of attacks. "Maybe they're too far away to hear." There was certainly no way anybody'd hear anything now. Nate could barely even see Silver's team, with all of them hanging...

The desert was even more fun than usual when you were a water pokémon. Nate could feel his energy, like, fucking evaporating out of his pores, or something. Whatever fucking pokémon thing. Meanwhile Rocky looked perfectly content, striding along with Nate's bag slung over one shoulder. Aside...