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Pokémon Journey

Eternal War
  • Joshthewriter

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


    Every day, Farmer Dan started his day by taking his customary stroll through his berry patch. He checked on those precious little moneymakers every single morning, watching for any early ripening and checking for any impurities that might affect the value of his crop. His other products all sold well enough, but none of them could even put a dent into the profit margins of his berry patch.

    Battle-crazed trainers were positively starved for high-quality berries and would pay through the nose for competition quality items. It had been the latest business boom, taking his old family farm from a local produce farm to an international business recognized across the world. He'd had visitors from Kanto and Sinnoh in the last week, to go along with his usual local buyers from Hoenn's League. Business was absolutely booming and he couldn't be happier.

    He wiped the sweat from his balding head and moved on to the next patch of berries, satisfied by the progress his lum berries were making. Already, the morning sun was beaming down and scorching him with its gaze. It wouldn't be long before he'd be able to start the harvest, plucking the sitrus berries before they ripened too much. He dropped to one knee as he reached the first sitrus plant and lifted up the leafy foliage. His jaw dropped, and the stream of obscenities erupting from his lips would have made his mother blush brighter than even the brightest razz berry.

    He lifted the mangled corpse of the sitrus berry, mourning it and lamenting the loss of profit. The sour little fruit had been half-eaten and left to rot on the ground. Small paw prints surrounded the plant and led off towards the fence line. Dan rose to his feet, scanning the rest of the sitrus patch with a keen eye. More berries littered the ground under the leaves, their profits leaking into the dirt along with Dan's untarnished reputation.

    He swore under his breath, following the trail to the fence line. It wound its way through several other berry patches, circling the pecha patch multiple times. He followed it up to the fence and scowled at the discovery. Something had dug a hole under the fence and pilfered a significant portion of his stock. Something, not someone.

    "Ave some troubles now, boy?"

    Dan rose to his feet. His hand dropped to his belt, to the one ball that still sat there. He looked up the small hill at the two figures standing in the trees. "Clear off now, Wilkersons."

    Jeb and Donny Wilkerson sauntered from the tree line. Dan couldn't see their blasted swampert, but he knew it was out there watching the two brothers. Jeb began to jog down the slight hill. "Somethin' get into yer berries, Danny boy?"

    He relaxed slightly, but kept his hand on Lena's ball. The old linoone wouldn't be much help in an all out brawl, but she was an effective deterrent if nothing else. "None of your business, Wilkersons." He looked up at Donny, watching the pudgy man struggle down the hill "Best clear off. Before one of you has an accident."

    Jeb wheeled around, spinning back to his brother. "City boy has attitude, Donny."

    "Ought'ta teach 'im a lesson," Donny replied, his voice far higher and softer than a man his size would be expected to have. "Maybe the 'vipers in them woods ought'ta pay him a visit."

    He froze, his hand clenching Lena's ball tighter. "Seviper?" He asked in a low tone. Just the thought of the serpentine pokemon brought back memories that Dan wanted to leave buried. Memories of a war that his family had barely survived the first time. "Thought they cleared off years ago."

    "Ah they're back every so often. Got a few o' dens round our property this year. They don't bother us too much," Jeb replied, clearly enjoying Dan's discomfort. "Course, you ought'ta know that seein' as yer Pa bought it last time they came round these parts." Jeb leaned on the fence, his stupid smirk burning into Daniel's mind. "Ain't that why yer just a farmer like us instead of yer fancy trainin' job? Ain't that why you came on back?"

    Dan clenched his fists and remained silent. The Wilkersons were a threat to his business, but only like a magikarp was a threat to a dragon. They were little more than a petty nuisance, jealous at his success while their farming business lagged behind in a changing world. Dan had poured almost everything he'd made in his training career into the family farm, leaving less successful neighbours like the Wilkersons far behind. The seviper were the real threat. Just like last time. Just like when dad died.

    "Shame yer not back in the city no more-"

    "I said buzz off now, Wilkersons."

    Jeb nodded and stopped leaning on the fence. "A'right, don' say we nev'r warned ya." He turned, pausing only to spit a large glob of snot and hork into the dirt.

    The two Wilkersons slunk off, back to the swampy hellhole they called home. Dan watched them go until they disappeared in the trees. He stayed there for another half hour, watching the trees for any sign of movement. None came. Satisfied that the two yokels were gone, he turned back and headed for the farmhouse up on the hill.


    Dan pulled the battered old rifle from the display case above the fireplace. He hadn't needed to use it since his Pa had died fifteen years back, not since the seviper in the hills had come down to the forest and overrun their farm in search of food. His mind flashed back to the day he had helped his father drive the serpents away. He gripped the rifle just a little tighter and tested the sights cautiously, praying he still had the strength to defend his family.

    He closed his eyes and he was back at the edge of the farm, a scared little boy calling out for his father. A chorus of hissing sang at him from the woods, mocking him for his fear. Then he heard the screams. His father was crying out for him, screaming in pain as the seviper found him.

    He moved through the forest like a ghost, losing all sense of direction in the woods. Their old linoone stood faithfully at his side. It had the same striped pattern as Lena, but was faded and grey. The pokemon barked and bounded into the darkness, leaving Dan behind in its hurry. He dashed after it, following the eruption of noise deeper in the woods. Lena ran with him, just a zigzagoon back in this memory.

    Dan burst into a clearing, tripping over an upturned root and smashing his face off the ground. He groaned and forced himself up to a scene straight from a horror movie. Dan lifted the rifle and sighted the target, shaking uncontrollably. He closed one eye and squeezed the trigger.

    "Hun?"

    The memory came crashing down on him. He'd shot the seviper just in time. His father had nearly died that day. He had nearly died that day. He hadn't been there when the Seviper had returned, off on his trainer's journey like a selfish fool, and his father had paid the price.

    Joanne's voice brought him back to the present day. She must have come in through the back, where he couldn't hear. He picked up the gun cleaning kit and frowned. "Sorry darlin'. Just a bad memory." He turned and slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Wilkersons came round this morning. Threatened me with Seviper again."

    She dropped the load of groceries on the floor by the fridge and crossed into the living room. "Jeb again?" She asked. She knew the answer by the scowl on Dan's face. "I'll call Riley,"

    "No," Dan replied harshly. He crossed his arms and his scowl seemed to deepen. "Lena and I can handle it."

    Joanne brushed her auburn hair out of her face and smiled softly. Dan looked into her warm brown eyes and felt his frustration start to fade. She kissed him gently on the cheek and whispered into his ear. "I love you, Farmer Murphy. And it's because I love you that I'm calling my brother anyways." She pulled back and smiled at him. "You aren't a trainer anymore, Dan. Your team... they aren't around anymore. Riley finished top ten in the last conference, let him help you."

    Dan sighed. "I know, I know." He turned away and shook his head slowly. "Getting old now, aren't I? I haven't been a young man for a long while."

    Joanne smirked mischievously and kissed him on the cheek. She grabbed him by the beard and pulled him in close. "I prefer you with the experience," she said with a wink. She glanced over at the stairs and then back at her husband.

    "And the groceries?" he asked knowingly. Try as he might, he couldn't hide the grin spreading across his face.

    "They'll still be there when we're done."


    Dan woke the next morning to more carnage in the berry fields. He'd still make a decent profit from his other berries, but the sitrus and pecha fields had been almost completely wiped out at night. The scarecrows hadn't worked evidently, and Lena hadn't woken to any intruders. They'd bypassed his expensive electric fence like it hadn't even been there

    He'd spent the entire day reinforcing the fence and building a small bunker of soil to hide behind. He didn't know if the thief would be back again, but he wasn't taking any chances. He needed some profit on the crop, at least enough to tide them over for the winter. He could probably afford a loan if necessary, but he was loathe to do so. He'd lived that life when he was younger.

    Joanne had appeared around dusk, carrying a plate of dinner for him. She told him Riley would likely arrive around dusk the next day and asked him to come inside for the night. Dan simply refused. He had a thief to catch. He would not leave his post tonight. Not for anything.


    She prowled through the forest, her nose low to the ground as she followed the same path she had the night before. The pack was dwindling, losing more and more of their number each day. There were less than a dozen left, and half of those were gravely injured themselves. She'd even taken a seviper's tail blade to her shoulder that day, a cut that ran down to the bone and ached horribly even after the last of the berries.

    The berries she'd managed to find at the new patch had stemmed some of their losses, but only for a night. She needed more, more even than the strange fenced patch she found had possessed. Still, it was the only source for eons around that was not guarded by the serpents.

    She peeked out from the tree line, looking down at the fields. No movement caught her eye. She scampered down the hill, nose raised and ears perked for any sign of danger. A glorious smell greeted her, vegetable and berry scents mixing together in a heavenly aroma. It was faint, but evidently there. She put it out of her mind as her stomach protested with a growl. The pack needed her more than she needed to eat. She'd take whatever berry scraps were left after the pack was done.

    She found her hole easily enough. Or rather, the loosely packed dirt where she had filled the hole. She shovelled aside the dirt effortlessly, remembering skills that her trainer had taught her a lifetime ago. It took mere minutes, the dirt still loosely packed from her last heist. She emerged on the other side of the fence and sniffed the air cautiously.

    Something felt different tonight. The hole had been patched, hard dirt packed down at the end. A strange pile of soil blocked the path deeper into the berry fields. She sniffed again and caught the same savoury scent as before. Cautiously, she crept forward as her ears strained for any sign of danger. She froze as a human rose from the wall. She'd seen the strange device in its hands before. She knew what would happen to her if it went off. The hair on her back began to raise and she growled a deep warning.

    Dan shouldered the rifle as silently as possible. He pulled back the bolt and chambered a round as a vague shape illuminated only by the light of the moon excavated the hole he had spent the entire day filling with rocks and dirt. The pokemon disappeared into the hole and Dan readied himself to pull the trigger.

    Its head poked out from the hole and Dan felt his heart skip a beat. The thief was back. He rose from his makeshift barricade, lined up the shot and froze. The thing was looking right at him.

    It was a sorry mess, blood matting its fur and staining it a mottled red-brown. One eye was gone, an empty patch of skin looking at him from where the eye should have been. A fresh gash on its shoulder was still leaking blood and every movement seemed to bring fresh pain in its step. It growled deeply, but even the growl seemed to be through gritted teeth.

    Dan lowered the rifle. He glanced down at Lena and gently woke the aging linoone. "Go up to the house. Get the potions." He glanced back at the beaten and bloodied pokemon. "Quietly."

    Lena disappeared into the night, casting a wayward glance at the intruder. She listened to her old trainer and disappeared up the hill towards the house.

    Dan clambered over his barricade slowly. He moved carefully, taking great care not to spook the injured pokemon. He gently laid his rifle down against the barricade and slowly crossed to one of the sitrus plants. He picked a pair of berries and glanced over at the thief. "You know," he started. "I was a trainer once. Do you know what a trainer is?"

    The pokemon made no move. She looked at him warily, teeth bared.

    Dan inched closer. "I can tell you're in a lot of pain. I can help you, but you have to let me." He stepped closer, holding out the first sitrus berry.

    The pokemon raised its head, sniffing cautiously at the tantalizing berry. It took a step closer and Dan saw truly how injured it was. It was a zangoose, her usually sparkling white fur matted with dark splotches of bloody brown. She approached the berry cautiously and took the fruit with a single paw.

    Dan smiled. He crept closer, dropping down to one knee. He carefully reached out one hand, showing the zangoose he was no threat.

    She looked away from the berry as Lena emerged from the darkness with a small sack clutched in her mouth. Her teeth bared and she growled a warning as her paw covered her berry.

    Dan took the bag and dismissed Lena to her ball. He pulled out one of the potions and shook the small spray bottle. "This might sting a little bit, but your shoulder needs something a little stronger than some berry juice."

    The zangoose lowered her shoulder and turned slightly as Dan dropped the second sitrus berry in front of her. She braced herself unconsciously as Dan began to spray the wound with the healing liquid.

    The wound began to harden and seal before his eyes, skin knitting itself back together as the potion began its work. Dan slowly worked his way down the zangoose. Every scratch got a spray, every patch of bloodied fur was soaked thoroughly in the healing spray.

    He leaned back, cocking his head to the side with a smile. "That feel better?"

    The zangoose met his gaze with her good eye. They held there, man and mon studying the intentions in the other's eyes. The moment passed. The zangoose lowered her head and gently nudged her nose against his hand.

    Dan smiled and rose to his feet slowly. "Look, I can't have you stealing my whole crop. I understand that you're hurt, but this is my livelihood." He leaned back against his barricade as his smile faded. "You gotta stop coming round here now."

    The zangoose lowered her head. She glanced from side to side, looking at the waiting sitrus plants. She turned around and slunk back to the hole without a backwards glance.

    Dan watched her go, waiting until the zangoose's shadow disappeared into the trees. He reached down and lifted his rifle. He slung it over his shoulder and began the hike back up to the old farmhouse.


    The sun was barely up before Dan rose from the bed. He departed from the house with Lena at his side, shovel already slung over his shoulder. After a quick inspection of his crop, he made his way over to the hole. Lena lounged happily in the sun while he set to work filling in the hole and shoring up the base of the fence. It might not keep out a determined zangoose, but it might slow one down. He mentally kicked himself for not upgrading the fencing last season, resolving to fortify the earth beneath the fence however he could.

    Joanne appeared from the house, two absurd oversized drinks in her hands. Slices of berries filled the glass of cold ice water, glistening in the afternoon sun. "Finished up with the pecha jelly and the last of the lum cream. Think there'll be enough of this crop left over for another batch each?"

    Dan wiped away the sweat and shook his head. "Doubt it. We barely have enough to cover the existing contracts, let alone any local customers." He grunted in thanks and took the oversized drink. "I met our thief last night. Looks like a zangoose has been using the patch as an infirmary."

    "Any idea how to stop it?" She asked.

    Dan shrugged. "Figure I'd ask nicely. I'll keep the barricade up another night and stay out here just in case." His smile returned and he took the drink from his wife. "Maybe I should catch her. I was a trainer back in my day."

    She shook her head, the ghost of a smile on her face. "It's not back in the day anymore, Dan. You think you can handle something like that?"

    Again, he shrugged. "No way to know until it happens." He turned and looked off at the cloud front moving inland. "Storm's coming. Better call Riley and have him get his butt here before the road floods."

    "He won't be coming by road," Joanne replied. "Was coming from Kanto, Saffron, I think." She looked off at the clouds. "He can handle a storm. Told me Oberon once flew him through a hurricane. A little rain won't stop that flygon if Riley asks him."

    Movement from the trees drew their gaze. They came in twos and threes, most of them injured, most of them barely limping into view before collapsing. Then he saw her. Dan met her eye with his own. Then the one-eyed zangoose collapsed into the dirt.


    Dan had considered half a hundred careers when he'd retired from training. None of them held the same lustre that training had held, but he liked the simplicity of berry farming. Even if it was forced, he enjoyed the calm retirement into farming. The memories of his training career and the twin tragedies that had ended it were never far from his mind. They came rushing back now, the deaths of his old team rushing back to the forefront of his mind as he patched each wound and injected each of the injured zangoose with antidotes.

    They were ancient enemies of the seviper, foes locked in some terrible eternal war. They were losing. The zangoose were losing. Half the zangoose that had managed to crawl to the farm would likely never battle again, the other half was covered in more wounds that Dan had ever thought possible.

    The one-eyed zangoose had been the worst. Dozens of fresh wounds covered her body and two deep punctures on one of her legs told him all he needed to know. She'd led her pack here, to him, hoping beyond reason that he would harbour them. He didn't refuse. He couldn't.

    He picked the last of his spare sitrus berries and burned through his potions like he was an elite trainer. Each and every wound found at least some treatment, whether it be a natural poultice Joanne had made or one of his dwindling supply of potions. The sun was beginning to set by the time they finished with the pack.

    "When's Riley getting here," Dan asked. "Could use his help with all this." He dunked his arms in the wash bucket, scrubbing at the bloody viscera. "Makes me nervous, darlin. Zangoose aren't usually scared of nothing. They're the type to fight to the end, especially against a seviper."

    She shrugged. "Riley said he'd be here today," she said. "Nothin' we can do but help them. Seeing as you're too soft to drive them away and I've got a bleeding heart, this is what we're doing."

    Dan nodded and dried his hands off on the towel beside them. He'd still need to shower later, but he was no longer covered in bloody fur. He sat heavily on the stool he had been sitting on, groaning in exhaustion.

    She cast her eyes over to the one-eyed zangoose. "I think she's the mama," she started. "She's been protective of each of these zangoose, she led them here. It's like she's in charge."

    "The pack mother?" Dan replied. "She seems too comfortable with us, too quick to respond to my questions. It's like she's used to humans."

    "Think she was trained?" Joanne asked. "It would make sense."

    He paused for a moment, deep in thought. "I think she was. She dug through the ground like it was nothing. Zangoose don't typically learn to do that in the wild."

    "What do you think happened to them?" Joanne asked.

    Dan shrugged. "Battle, most likely. I'd bet anything that it was the seviper that the Wilkersons were threatening me with." He got to his feet, looking up at the storm. "They're going to come here," he said. "The seviper."

    Joanne nodded. "I figured as much."

    Dan looked over at her. "I have to do something. These zangoose… they're practically half-dead already. The Wilkersons will be back and they'll bring the Seviper to do what they won't. They'll kill both of us and the zangoose and be done with it."

    Joanne nodded again. "You know what you have to do," she said. She looked away, fighting tears. "But I don't want you to do it."

    He saw the tears at the edges of her eyes and brushed them away. "I'll be alright, love. I've got Lena."

    She nodded. "I know, I know," she said slowly. She looked at him reluctantly, the air heavy with tension. "Don't die," she said, her eyes pleading. "Don't make me a widow."

    Dan pulled her in close. "I'm always gonna be here, darlin'. Don't you doubt that." He held her close for a long moment. "I'll be back before sundown, I promise. I'm going to end this stupid feud."

    They embraced for a long moment. Then the moment ended and the rain began to fall.

    "I'll be back," said Dan. "Stay in the house."

    She left, her arms up to shield herself from the rain. Dan looked down at Lena. He still had one pokemon left, still had his loyal starter. He lifted her ball, returning her. He pocketed the ball, slinging his father's old rifle over his shoulder and marched to meet an ancient enemy, a trainer once more.


    The Wilkersons and the Murphys had feuded for centuries. Generations of farmers had warred over their speck of northern Hoenn, uncounted lives lost over decades of petty squabbles. He didn't know when it had begun, he didn't know what started it, all he knew was that it had to stop.

    Dan had only been to the Wilkersons farm once, when his grandfather had made a trip over as a peace offering. The Wilkersons had accused him of poisoning the pie he had brought as an offering and thrown them off the farm. Two weeks later, his grandfather had disappeared from the fields. They'd found him after two nights, beaten to death in the woods.

    He stepped through the dilapidated gates, avoiding the muddy swamp on either side of the road. The Wilkersons farm was not much better than he remembered it. The barn was still leaning dangerously and the swamp encroached on the little spit of arable land on each side.

    "Hello?" He called. "Wilkersons?"

    His voice trailed off and he turned his head. The trees were alive. The air was filled with the sound of hissing. The seviper were here. They were here, watching his every step.

    The door of the small house swung open. "City-boy?" asked a surprised Jeb. "Whatcha doin out here?"

    Dan clenched his fists, standing as proud as he could with the rifle slung over his shoulder. The seviper were coming, but he stood tall. He wouldn't give the Wilkersons the satisfaction of seeing his fear, wouldn't let them see what they'd done to him. "I want this feud over," he said. "It's gone on far too long."

    The door swung open, Donny Wilkerson's muscled frame squeezing through. "Wot is it, Jeb?"

    "Danny-boy wants a truce," Jeb said. "Wants our feud over."

    "It's been long enough," Dan said loudly, interrupting the brothers. He kept his eyes on them, ignoring the serpents creeping closer. "Do you even remember why we're fighting? I don't!"

    Jeb grinned coldly. "Wilkersons and Murphys always fight. Our Pa killed your grandpa. Your Pa killed our Pa, we killed your Pa for it. Now we're gon' kill you," he said. "It's in the blood, city boy. You can't change it no more than the 'viper can change." He leaned over the porch railing, the savage grin on his face widening. "It's our own war, just like the 'goose and the 'viper. 'Cept this time, the 'viper are gonna win."

    "It doesn't have to be this way," Dan said. His hand lowered to Lena's ball, eying the seviper creeping towards him. He could see the Wilkersons swampert, watching from the water and even more serpents cutting lithely forwards. "We don't have to be like our fathers, not anymore."

    Jeb stepped off the porch, regarding the seviper advancing on me curiously. "The 'viper don't like you, city boy. They really don't like you." He cracked his knuckles, looking up at me with a knowing smirk.

    Dan's eyes widened and he realized that he was in mortal danger. "We don't have to like each other," he said. He unslung the rifle, holding it at his shoulder. "We don't need to kill each other, either. But I'll do what I have to to protect my family."

    Jeb stopped in his tracks, curiously regarding the old farmer and his rifle. "You think you got the balls to shoot me?" Jeb asked. "You ain't never shot-"

    Dan swivelled, sighting one of the encroaching serpents through the sights. He squeezed the trigger, painting the ground around the seviper with bits of brain and bone. Dan set the sights back on Jeb as the horde of serpents hissed furiously. "Try me," he said. "I've got plenty of practice killing seviper from the last time."

    Jeb stepped back, raising his hands as Dan pointed the rifle in his face. "We'll leave you be," he said quickly. "No more shootin'."

    Dan stepped backwards slowly, keeping his rifle trained on Jeb. "Good," he said, relief creeping into his voice. "Don't make me come back here." He kept moving backwards, feet carefully tracing the steps he had taken on the way in. He didn't turn away or lower the rifle until long after he had retreated through the gate and left the swamp far behind.


    He trudged out of the forest, rifle slung heavily over his shoulder. His boots were covered in mud and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. The zangoose looked up the hill at him, tired heads turning and pointing up at him. He stepped down that hill, tired feet tracing the steps back through the gate and up the hill towards the house.

    Dan stopped in front of the pack of zangoose, looking down at the pack mother. "I don't know what happened out there, but you're safe here." He dropped down to one knee, putting himself level with the pokemon. "We been on the same side of a war that we didn't know about. We been fighting alone for too long." He smiled softly, thinking about his team. It'd be good for them to have some pokemon around. "We could stay together," he said with a calm smile. "One big pack." He looked up at the house, Joanne smiling at him though the window. "One big family, like I used to have."

    Mama looked up at him, remaining eye searching his face for some hint that he was lying. She couldn't find one. The zangoose reached up at him, extending her claws and holding her paw out.

    Dan reached down, gently brushing his hand against the zangoose's outstretched paw. She closed her paw and looked up at him, blinking slowly.

    "Dan?"

    The old farmer got to his feet, turning towards his wife as she came down the steps of the porch. "It's done, darlin. Wilkersons won't bother us no more."

    She ran to him, wrapping herself around him in a fierce embrace. They were together, just like they should be. They were together and all was right with the world.


    He rose at dawn, like he always did. Riley had arrived at some point in the night, half ragged atop his heaving flygon. They were exhausted after flying through the rainstorm. Dan crept past the door, sure to keep quiet.

    He stepped outside, smiling at the morning sun. Movement from the fields drew his gaze, zangoose cubs frolicking through his remaining crops. Mama rose from where she had curled herself on the porch of the house, regarding him curiously.

    "Sleep well?" Dan asked. "You certainly look like you're feeling better."

    The zangoose growled, pointing down at her mottled brown-red fur. She pointed at the zangoose club closest to them, growling again and combing her claws through the cub's hair.

    "You'd like to wash?" Dan asked. "I can fill the tub again."

    He trudged over to the washtub he'd dragged out for the zangoose the night before. He filled it with fresh water from the well and stepped back.

    The zangoose dipped a paw into the water, splashing it over herself. Dan turned, smiling happily as a trio of zangoose cubs bounded through his legs to play with the tub of water.

    Joanne appeared in the doorway, a coffee mug clutched in her hands. "You missed this," she said with a smile. "having pokemon around. You're a trainer again, Farmer Murphy."

    Dan grinned, climbing the stairs up the porch. "I did miss it," he said. He looked down at the zangoose. "We've got that big happy family that we always wanted."

    Her cheeks went a bright red. "Yeah…" she started, trailing off. "About that…" Joanne's hand went into her robe, pulling out a small plastic rectangle. "I had to pee really bad, so I got up. And I remembered reading that these were more accurate if you used them first thing in the morning…"

    Dan looked down, his eyes fixating on the little red plus sign. He glanced back up at his wife before a dumbfounded grin crossed his face. "You're pregnant," he said dumbly. "You're actually…"

    She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. "Now it's the family I always wanted," she said.

    He hugged her back, holding back the sobs of joy as he held her close. The tears fell freely, joyous emotion overwhelming him. He would be a father. He would not be the last of his line.


    A week passed, a week of blissful happiness. His profit was practically a write-off this season, but they'd survive the loss of a single harvest with little difficulty. Dan found that even the prospect of financial hardship couldn't get him down.

    Riley lifted the buckets of mulch, picking up the last of the fertilizer.

    "Put that up by the tractor," Dan said, wiping sweat from his brow. "I still gotta fertilize the cheri fields, but we're just about done for the day."

    Riley perked up, his shaggy black hair drenched in sweat. "Does that mean I finally get to try some of Joanne's farm fresh iced berry juice?"

    Dan smirked. "I think I could go for that right about now."

    Riley dropped the buckets beside the tractor and turned back to Dan. "I'm gonna wash up then, if you don't mind?"

    The old farmer nodded, waving his brother in law away absentmindedly. He traipsed down to the fence, chuckling under his breath. A pair of the zangoose cubs were feinting at the electric fence, trying to see who could be the last one to move out of the way.

    "That ain't too safe," Dan said with a grin. He knelt down beside them, scratching one of the cubs under his waiting chin. "Could get real hurt out here."

    "Dan?"

    He turned his head, smiling as he waved up at the house. "Yes, darlin'?"

    "Riley says you sent him for juice?"

    Dan couldn't help rolling his eyes as he chuckled. "Yes," he replied. "I sent him up there."

    Joanne shook her head, a grin clear on her face. It died as she raised her arm, a look of utter horror on her face.

    Dan heard the hiss as the world seemed to fall silent. All the other noise just seemed to fade away, leaving just the angry, hateful hissing.

    He felt the blood drain from his face and followed his wife's finger. The hill leading down from the trees was alive, hundreds of serpents slowly advancing on his farm. The Wilkersons had arrived.

    "Call Riley out here." He turned back to the trees as Joanne dashed off towards the house. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Get the rifle and cover me!"

    Dan turned, two zangoose cubs and himself the only thing between the swarm and his family.

    A man sauntered from the tree line, a malevolent grin plastered on his face. "Sounds like the 'vipers are angry," Jeb Wilkerson said, malevolence dripping from every word. "They been looking for those 'goose all day. Looks like they found 'em now and they found me a prize to go with 'em."

    Dan's hands closed into fists. The rifle was up at the house. Lena was in her ball, also up at the house. Joanne was gone to get Riley, again up at the house. It was him against an army. Him and two little cubs.

    The one eyed zangoose stepped out beside him, growling and glaring up the hill. Her eyes were fixated on Jeb, on the man who seemed to command the seviper. The rest of the pack fanned out behind him, all eight of the remaining fighters prowling back and forth in anticipation of the coming battle. The cubs retreated behind them, a few more of the young retreating towards the house with them.

    "Well, they found 'em, Jebediah." Dan called. He crossed his arms, glancing over at the zangoose. He looked back up at Jeb. "We had words. You best leave them be now."

    Jeb continued down the hill, larger serpents beginning to follow him out from the trees. "That ain't how this works, city boy. The 'vipers ain't gonna rest 'till all those 'goose are dead." He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. "You stand with them and the 'vipers look at you like one of them."

    Dan locked eyes with Jeb, scowling deeply. "The 'vipers or you?"

    Jeb's smile seemed to deepen. He shrugged. "Ain't no difference no more, city boy." He smirked, cracking his knuckles. "I told you. Feud has to end in blood. It always ends in blood."

    The hill was alive, dozens of serpents slithering down towards the farm. There were dozens, from small hatchlings to the pair of massive seviper as thick around as some of the tree trunks.

    Dan glanced back, eying his makeshift army. The one-eyed zangoose met his eyes. He had been a trainer once. She'd had a trainer once. Dan wasn't much for fate, but he couldn't help but feel like their meeting had been the work of something greater. She nodded and turned back to face the horde.

    "Alright," Dan roared, his voice coming to life as adrenaline pumped through his body. He grabbed a flat spade, holding it up as a makeshift weapon. "Keep an eye on the ground! They're gonna burrow through and come up at us from beneath."

    He looked at Jeb as the Wilkerson lifted a ball from his belt. "Mama," he started.

    She glanced at him, vengeful fire in her eyes.

    "You're with me."

    Then the world seemed to end. The seviper surged forward as Dan walked out to meet Jeb. The sea of serpents disappeared into the earth, burrowing their way under his newly reinforced fence. The fence toppled as the horde of seviper passed underneath. They burst from the ground and battle began.

    Serpent and beast clashed with finality, both sides seeming to sense that the end of an eternal war was close at hand. Mama forged a path through for her new trainer, claws flashing as she cut her way through the serpents.

    He heard the crack of rifle fire and watched a seviper that had been leaping for him shrink back.

    Dan charged through the gap, ducking under the fangs of a lunging seviper as he swung his spade at another. Even a single bite from those fangs and he would be dead. One of the zangoose pack leapt from the fray to intercept the seviper, rolling away as he tangled with the serpent. Dan forged on, following the trail of carnage that Mama had carved. Jeb was the target, Jeb was the one controlling all of this.

    He came to an abrupt halt. Mama was still, the shredded length of a seviper laying at her feet. Her chest was heaving and there were half a dozen new wounds marring her fur.

    Jeb was staring at them with near glee. "City boy finally grew a pair. Took you long enough. I had to rile up every damn 'viper in the forest to get a rise outta you." He smirked and shook his head. "This is gonna be real fun, city boy." He lifted his ball, releasing the swampert inside.

    Dan cracked his knuckles. Mama looked at him with a confident nod. It might have been years since he was a trainer, but the instincts never really left. A grin spread across his face. "Yeah, it is gonna be fun, Jeb."

    He glanced down at Mama. "Taunt him. Keep that swampert on the offensive and stay out of its way until I say."

    He looked back up at Jeb. "What say we settle this little feud once and for all?"

    The Wilkerson's smirk faded and a scowl crossed his face. "Aro, take down!"

    Mama bounded forward as the swampert lowered its shoulder. She ducked to the side, raking the swampert with her claws as it barrelled past. It skidded to a halt, trying to compensate and turn on a dime. Mama darted in and raked the swampert's rough hide with her claws again, barely drawing blood.

    "Hammer arm!"

    Dan glanced up, reading Jeb's body language in an instant. Not yet, it wasn't time yet. "Detect!" He shouted. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew that Mama knew what he wanted.

    Mama looked impossibly small as Aro rose up on his hind legs. Her eyes flashed with anticipation. Then the hammer fell. Two fists slammed into the dirt where the zangoose had been standing an instant before. She moved in a flash, always a hair away from being crushed by the hammer arms. She ducked away one last time, the swampert overextending in frustration.

    "Now, close combat!" Dan roared, seizing on the opening.

    Mama struck back with all the pent up force and fury of a trapped animal. Aro withered under the assault, shrinking back as Mama pounded him into submission.

    "Hydro pump!" Jeb spat, panicking.

    His swampert reeled around, swinging wildly to clear himself some room. He opened his mouth, blasting a jet of water harmlessly into the side of the hill. Mud and water splashed high, splattering the field of battle in brown water.

    Mama leapt away as a second hydro pump sailed into the sky over the farm. He didn't see it land, didn't care so long as it didn't hit the house.

    The two pokemon glared at each other, both of them exhausted and battered though Aro had taken the worst of the exchange.

    Dan stepped forward, ready to give the order to end the battle. He felt something prick his thigh and felt the instant seizure as his muscles contracted in shock.

    "Dan!" Joanne called, her voice seeming to be far off in the distance. "Lena, go!"

    The linoone was at his side, tearing the infant seviper off his leg in an instant. Dan felt his leg give out, felt himself crash to the ground as he toppled over. Lena crouched over him, growling at Jeb and protecting her old trainer.

    "Dan!" Joanne shouted desperately. "Dan!"

    Her voice seemed further and further away. He laid his head back as a strange floating sensation seemed to take over his body.

    Mama was there, standing over him protectively as well. She growled a warning at Jeb and the swampert, joining Lena in protecting her new trainer.

    A wave of earth rolled across the field. Berry plants went soaring through the air, fence pieces thrown into the air by the earthen attack. Riley's flygon swooped down, tearing a triumphant seviper away from a prone zangoose.

    Dan closed his eyes. His leg seemed to stop burning. He let go of the pain and felt nothing at all. "Mama," he croaked, his voice failing. "Take care of 'em for me. Take care of her." He felt something nudge his hand. He knew she accepted. He felt himself slipping away. He heard the last rifle shot and saw Jeb fall to the ground. He didn't fight the end.


    She looked up at the sky, watching the sun pass behind a cloud. The cold was coming soon, but there would be enough time for the man-cubs to finish the harvest. She turned back to the house, a pair of her own cubs prowling along the fence line.

    It had been near ten winters since she had found the patch. Ten winters since she had found and lost her last trainer. Her pack was strong now, stronger than it had been when they had called the forest their home.

    The woman emerged from the house, calling for the two man-cubs. They ignored her, as they usually did. They were brazen, reckless cubs much like her own. These humans and her young were more alike than they had ever realized.

    The pack mother turned and trotted off into the berry fields in search of the man-cubs. She'd made a promise to a trainer once. She'd promised a dying man that his pack would be hers. She'd promised that she would keep them safe. She would keep that promise, no matter what.
     
    Fate’s Design
  • Joshthewriter

    Charizard Fan
    Location
    Toronto
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. charizard
    Fate's Design


    Sootopolis City, Hoenn

    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.

    The angular crest of a gyarados breached the waves above the sunken city. A pair of waterlogged kids clung desperately to the ferocious pokemon, fear and despair etched on their faces. Their world was gone, erased by the fury of a caged god and the rush of cold seawater.

    Delicate feelers broke the surface beside the gyarados, Wallace and his milotic appearing from the deep. Wallace's chest was heaving and blood was slowly leaking down the side of his head. He pulled himself onto the lip of the crater beside the waiting champion.

    "Kyogre goes to meet Groudon," Steven started breathlessly. His skarmory stood on the lip of the crater, breaths sharp and ragged. "They appear to be moving towards Lilycove. We have to stop this madness."

    Wallace looked longingly back down at the water. "There are still people trapped down there. I can't leave my city like this."

    "Sootopolis is gone," Steven retorted. "All of Hoenn will be next if we don't stop this madness." He put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "The league will do what they can for those still buried, but we are needed right now."

    Wallace finally turned and looked back at the champion. "What can we do against that thing? It destroyed my home without even trying. Groudon wiped out Lavaridge with a yawn. With all due respect, we're dealing with something beyond even you."

    Steven raised a pair of pokeballs and showed them to his friend. "I may have something," he replied. "Titans from a long dead age. But I'll need your help to raise them. I have the relicanth. I have the wailord." He opened his hand, showing Wallace the pale scar carved into his palm. "I have the anchor."

    "The Regi trio?" Wallace gasped. "They're a myth. They aren't actually real, are they?" He had learned much since he had met Steven three years prior. He had learned of Kyogre's slumber under the city and of the ancient myths of Hoenn's people. Still, knowing of a God's existence was much different than watching it destroy your home.

    Steven sighed. He gestured over his shoulder at the drowned city. "Neither was Kyogre before today. Groudon was but a myth before it levelled Lavaridge. The Gods are real and they are here." He sighed and massaged his temples. "I have nothing left but this. Nothing I can do, but this."

    "What about Rayquaza? The legends say that it stopped the fighting before." He folded his arms across his chest. "You can't possibly hope to control all three Golems alone."

    A sad frown crossed his face. "I have tried, Wallace. I am no draconid. The Sky God does not answer my pleas. I am out of options and we are out of time." He looked back at the raging storm as it followed Kyogre out to sea. "If Hoenn has any chance, we must go now."

    Wallace looked back at his gyarados, at the half-drowned children on her back. "My pokemon will stay here to help the rescue efforts."

    Steven raised a strange flute to his lips. He blew into the flute, a long and haunting note echoing clearly out over the choppy water. Though the storm was still roaring in the distance, the wind seemed to calm ever so slightly.

    Steven pulled the flute away, a far off look on his face. Wallace stepped back, perturbed by the distant stare in his friend's eyes. "Steven, what are you doing?"

    The silver haired champion sagged on his feet, slumping against Wallace before he could catch himself. "They will aid us," he started hopefully. "They have to." Though his voice threatened to crack with exhaustion, he maintained the hopeful tone as best he could.

    "Hoenn's guardians will aid us," Steven continued, forcing himself to his feet as the glowing scar on his pal throbbed with pain. He needed to be strong. His home was counting on him. "The Lati twins will help us."

    Wallace gasped as a flash of blue in the distance drew his gaze. A second flash of pink light confirmed his suspicions. Wallace turned back to his friend as a pair of stars burned their way through the sky towards them. "Let's go save our home, then."


    Lilycove City, Hoenn

    They were losing. That much was clear. Humanity was losing a war that they weren't even a part of. Lilycove was practically gone, just a few grievously damaged skyscrapers the only reminder that this had once been the largest city in Hoenn.

    Sidney and Phoebe were gone, lost in the chaos of the dying city. Glacia had been with him at some point, but the ice trainer had been swept away by the storm. The remaining gym leaders had been there to help evacuate the city, but Drake hadn't seen a single one since Kyogre had arrived and flooded the city. He was, as far as he could tell, the only one left.

    Steven had asked him to buy time, contain the battle as much as he could. The champion had promised that he would arrive with aid, but the old sailor didn't know how much more time he had left. He didn't see how Steven could stop this either, but Drake kept that doubt to himself. He'd learned long ago to discount Steven Stone at his own peril.

    Groudon roared as a colossal wave bowled over it. The ancient God of the Earth crushed through one of the few remaining skyscrapers, sending the remains of the steel superstructure crashing down on the city.

    Drake roared alongside his salamance as a hyper beam glanced off Groudon's shoulder. The God slipped under Drake's assault as another hyper beam from his altaria carved a burning furrow into its leg. One of his flygon darted in, glowing with draconic energy as he charged the falling God.

    A spear of rock shot from the earth, impaling a building as Groudon willed it forth. Drake's flygon was swatted from the sky with barely an afterthought, tumbling lifelessly away from the stone spear.

    The Sea God pressed its advantage, seizing on Groudon's weakness. What seemed like half the ocean seemed to empty from Lilycove's harbour as Kyogre swept out to sea. Drake had been a sailor nearly his whole life. He had practically lived on the water. He could see water types thrashing on the dry ocean floor and he knew what was coming.

    "Climb," he growled to his salamance. He turned his head. "Climb!" he roared to the rest of his dragons.

    His altaria shrieked an answer through the storm, and he heard the telltale hum of his remaining flygon's wings. His salamance roared and beat his wings, carrying them higher into the sky.

    They had to get higher, he'd seen tsunamis in his day. He had no doubt that a tsunami summoned by the ocean god would dwarf anything he'd ever seen.

    Then he saw it. He gasped in terror, looking out at what seemed like half the ocean rising up to meet him. It was two, maybe three-hundred meters tall, a wave that would wash across Hoenn's mainland and leave nothing behind it but death. Kyogre itself rode the wave, bellowing a cry that shook Drake's weary old bones.

    "Climb!" He roared, straining to be heard over the deafening wave.

    His salamance redoubled his efforts, wings beating madly in a desperate effort to gain height. But they were going too slowly, they would never be able to get above the Ocean God's vengeance.

    "Brace!" He roared as he held fast to his dragon's back. There was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do.

    A rush of cold air cut Drake down to the bone, but the crushing power of the wave never hit him. He opened his eyes as the titanic wall of water froze solid in moments. He could hear the ice cracking, rumbling as Kyogre's momentum ground to an icy halt.

    Kyogre crashed through the frozen tsunami, a pair of steel fists battering it through the wave. A metal Titan followed, hammering into the fallen God with wordless fury. A stone Golem was already there, hammering the deity with a spear of stone that thrusted from the earth.

    "Drake!" shouted a familiar voice. "Rally to me!"

    Drake spun on the air, his salamance expertly pivoting on blood-red wings. The champion was here, silver hair streaming astride a bolt of blue light. A maelstrom of green power swirled around his outstretched fist, linking each of the legendary golems back to the Champion. The blue dragon beneath him roared their arrival, his pink-hued sister echoing him a half-moment later.

    "The Lati twins," Drake muttered as the Champion and his friend soared past him. "And the Regi trio… Hoenn's guardians come to save us all." He bowed his head with instinctive respect, watching atop his dragon as Registeel pounded Kyogre across the face.

    He locked eyes on Kyogre, watching the Sea God crash to the earth and plow through half of Lilycove. One of the few remaining skyscrapers toppled over, crashing heavily into the frozen surf. Drake cursed for all he was worth, mourning the lives of those who had still been trapped in the building.

    "For Hoenn!" he roared. He was the last Elite, one of Hoenn's greatest defenders. So long as the champion still stood, so did he. His remaining dragons followed his lead, altaria and flygon taking their places at his side and echoing a deafening roar.

    The stone Titan leapt up and landed on Kyogre's back, crushing a grunt of pain out of the god. It wailed mournfully, willing the ocean to aid it. The tide stormed forward, but a blizzard that stretched further than Drake dared to imagine roared to life as Regice landed at its side. The ocean froze solid in moments, adding to the ice wall that Kyogre's tsunami had formed.

    "Hyper beam!" Drake roared over the titanic snap-crack of the ice breaking up. They had an opening now, one glorious opportunity to rip the damned Ocean God from the sea and trap it inland. Hoenn was not especially densely populated west of Lilycove, mostly just disparate wilderness pockmarked by stretches of farmland. They could force it westward, keep it away from what was left of the city. Maybe they could isolate Kyogre inland and kill the beast.

    His salamance opened his maw, a brilliant ball of swirling energy gathering in the dragon's razor-toothed jaws. It erupted with violent screaming light, another hyper beam joining him from each side. Steven and Wallace were there with him, psychic light surging from their mounts.

    They smote Kyogre from above, driving it back into the earth. A chasm opened up beneath the Ocean God, the bedrock literally tearing itself apart as Groudon reshaped the earth at will. Drake could see the hellish glow of molten rock bubbling in the deep and could not help the reverent awe that he felt. Their plans meant nothing, less than nothing to these primal beings.

    They were battling Gods, creatures with enough immense power to literally reshape the planet. The chasm slammed shut as Regirock leapt away, swallowing the Ocean God whole as it shrieked in godly panic.

    Drake warily glanced back at Groudon. The God of the Earth was unconcerned with an old man and his dragons. It turned towards the Regis, massive footfalls leaving puddles of liquid fire in the God's wake. Steven sat tall atop Latios, his silver hair shining brightly as harsh sunlight began to clear the storm clouds.

    "Get over there!" Drake shouted.

    His salamance roared, crimson wings pumping desperately for speed. He could hear his flygon's wings buzzing behind him, could see his altaria effortlessly keeping pace alongside him.

    The earth shook below him. Drake glance down, worried that Groudon was bringing some fresh hell up to the surface. The ocean surged forward, putting that idea to rest as the ruined city was washed away by a swell of water. Storm clouds began to gather once again, swirling around one spot in particular.

    He sucked in a breath. The fissure had sealed, leaving a gargantuan scar through the earth. Drake watched in abject horror as the earth bucked violently and the fissure widened ever so slightly. Water rushed down through the crack and his eyes widened in terror.

    Drake looked up, shouting across the ruined city with all the strength he had left. "GET AWAY! GET AWA-"


    The earth simply exploded. Thousands upon thousands of tons of molten rock were thrown into the air, steam exploding out of the fissure and flattening what little of Lilycove was still standing. The last remaining skyscraper twisted and toppled down onto Groudon's shoulder, the God shrugging it off effortlessly. Wallace held desperately to Latias as the wall of ash and steam slammed into them, knowing that losing his grip meant certain death.

    Drake was gone, lost in the violent plume of steam and ash as the ocean boiled on contact with the molten earth. Kyogre rose from the maelstrom like a demon from the deep, letting out a long and furious cry as its eternal foe turned to face it.

    "Steven!" he shouted, straining to be heard over the eruption. Latias drew closer to her brother, nervously letting out a whimper. "What do we do?"

    The silver haired champion turned atop the blue dragon, his expression grim. He looked like he had aged a decade since the start of the battle. His eyes were ragged and sunken. Dark circles had appeared under his eyes and his cheeks had none of their usual meat to them. "Protect Hoenn," he said calmly. Steven stone met his eyes and Wallace saw the pain in them. He knew what he was doing. "Promise me you'll carry on when it's done. Someone has to rebuild after this all."

    Wallace shook his head. "There's got to be another way!" He couldn't allow the Champion to do this, couldn't allow his closest friend to die.

    "There isn't," Steven replied. He pointed at the kaiju as Groudon raised a sheer wall of earth that blunted a titanic wave of water. "Their battle will consume the whole world unless they are stopped. Someone has to do something."

    "You'll die," Wallace said simply.

    A strange calm seemed to come over Steven. He nodded slowly. "Then I die in service to Hoenn," he replied. "There is no greater cause than service to others. I want you to remember that, Wallace." He smiled and Wallace thought for a moment that he saw tears starting to form in Steven's eyes. "You'll need to remember that when you're Champion."

    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.

    "It's ok, Wallace. I want this," Steven looked away, down at the three Titans awaiting his command. He closed his hand, doing nothing to dim the anchor's light. "I need to do this."

    Wallace found himself nodding. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't." He grabbed hold of Steven's hand. "Go then," he said weakly. "Go save the world."

    Steven looked back at him, stormy grey eyes churning with conflict. His cheeks we thin and sallow, and the colour seemed to drain from his face. "I… I never told you," he stammered. "Now I'm out of time."

    "It's ok," Wallace replied, trying to hold in a sob. "I already know. I love you too."

    They sat there for a long moment, hands clasped in a desperate vision of what might have been. Ancient gods reshaped what had once been a thriving city before them, but nothing could break their embrace.

    Steven pulled his hand away, a stern expression crossing his face. "Latias," he started, looking down at the pink dragon. "Take him somewhere safe."

    Wallace opened his mouth to protest, but the dragon rocketed away. He twisted around, trying to get one last look at the man he loved. He caught a glimpse as he soared away, green power swirling around the grey-haired trainer atop a bolt of blue light.

    Latias swung low over the ruined slope of Mount Chimney, slowing only long enough for Wallace to slip gracefully off her back. He looked back up at the sky as she rocketed away, watching the streak of pink light tear across the sky.

    Then the earth shook with fury and Wallace watched armageddon come to Hoenn.


    He was as close to a God as any human could ever claim to be. The legendary Golems were his. The Lati twins were his. He had more raw power at his disposal than even Grand Champion Shirona could have dreamed of. And yet, it still was not enough. He could feel his strength flowing through the anchor on his hand, keeping the legendary Titans tethered to him. He was growing weaker by the moment, his life fading away to fuel the terrible power in his hands.

    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.

    Groudon batted aside Registeel like it was nothing more than a nuisance. The steel Titan skidded to a halt in the frozen muck, carving deep furrows as it tried to stop itself. Deep dents covered its armoured shell, green light leaking haphazardly from inside the Golem.

    Regirock was there, leaping atop a spear of stone spear aimed at Groudon's heart. Steven felt his strength flagging as yet more of his life flew through the anchor, and he knew that he didn't have long left. He had to end this now.

    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 stone Titan buried itself deep in Groudon's chest, spearing it through with a suicidal stone edge. Groudon shrieked as it doubled over the stone spear, white-hot fury rolling off the wounded God in waves.

    The ocean flash froze as Regice whipped a howling blizzard into existence. Groudon toppled backwards, snow and ice piling up as the Earth God roared in frustration. Registeel landed atop Groudon's chest, pounding metal fists into the toppled God.

    The snow began to melt, sloughing off the earth God's body in great streams. Steven's eyes widened as Groudon's baleful golden eyes seemed to settle on him. Fire danced in the God's gaze and Steven knew that he had lost.

    The earth opened beneath Groudon, a geyser of molten lava spewing into the sky. Regice simply ceased to be, boiling into steam as the lava engulfed it. Registeel stumbled backwards, legs bending under its weight as the heat began to melt them. Groudon righted itself on the lava floe, swinging around to face the melting Titan.

    Steven reached out, tossing out a ball. A shining silver shell appeared, four limbs stretching out from his metagross. The steel-type shone with psychic light, powerful barriers springing into place around it.

    "Meteor mash!" Steven roared as the anchor went dark, Registeel melting into nothing as the lava overtook it. He felt the strength returning to him and knew that the Golems had failed. It was down to him.

    His metagross fell like a stone, fist outstretched and wreathed in power. He followed it down, Latios wreathing itself in a psychic aura. The dragon's sister surged ahead of him, encased in her protective psychic bubble.

    His metagross landed a blow on Groudon's jaw. Latias slammed into the Earth God's chest, forcing it back off balance. Steven and Latios drove directly into Groudon's chest, sending it tumbling back into the lava.

    A thunderous crash tore through the air as Kyogre burst through the weakened ice, a vengeful cry erupting across the ruined city.

    Steven's eyes widened as a wave larger than either of the other ones that Regice had frozen swelled to life behind the massive Sea God. He had nothing to stop this.

    His metagross leapt up, fists glowing as it rocketed towards Kyogre. It defended him without thought, his starter's loyalty bringing a tear to his eyes.

    Kyogre opened its maw, spewing a torrent of water that blasted his metagross into the earth. The levitating tank bounced through the ruined city and Steven lost his starter in the rubble.

    He held tightly to Latios, praying for a miracle.

    His eyes shut as he heard Groudon rise to its feet behind him. He'd failed. Both Gods would tear the world apart in their endless war. Then the wave crashed over him as Kyogre smote Hoenn's stubborn Champion under an ocean's worth of water.

    Steven held on for dear life, the wave smashing Latios off the ground. A shimmering barrier held strong over them, though Latios could do nothing to stop them from being tossed upon the wave along with half of Lilycove.

    They broke the surface of the water for a single moment and it was all that the dragon needed. He soared into the air, Steven throwing up an arm to shield himself from the salty spray beneath them. A pink stream of light tore through the spray, splashing harmlessly against Kyogre's side.

    Latias spun off a clumsy attempt at retaliation, almost effortlessly avoiding Kyogre's hydro pump. She carved a bloody path along the God's side, a roaring pulse of purple energy piercing into blubber.

    Latios swooped low to aid her sister, Steven still clutching desperately to his back. He saw it too late to do anything, watched Groudon open its maw and the fire boiling in its throat.

    Latios pulled a psychic barrier up at the last moment, throwing everything he had into a last ditch effort. Steven felt the air grow thin and the searing heat seeping through the barrier as Latios whined in effort.

    Then the flames ended and Groudon's tail was hurtling up to meet him. He sucked in sharply and the earth god made contact. He heard a high pitched psychic pop, and his world spun to pieces.

    Latios desperately tried to right himself, but the dragon was wounded now and Steven was far too heavy a burden. They hit the ground, bouncing twice before Latios lost consciousness and Steven was thrown hurtling from the dragon's back.

    He skidded to a halt, rolling uncontrollably and smashing violently off of rubble strewn across the field. Steven Stone came to a halt in the frozen muck, trying and failing to draw a breath.

    He lay there in awe of the duelling Gods, limbs stubbornly refusing to move. He could see Latias still harassing the primordial foes, but knew that she was doomed like everyone else had been. She couldn't defeat these two alone, not where their best efforts had fallen short.

    A spear of golden light tore through the storm, driving Kyogre into the earth with practiced ease. A twisting, writhing dragon rose from the crumpled body of the Sea God and Steven felt his heartbeat quicken in his chest. Rayquaza was here.

    Groudon roared fearfully, scrambling backwards as the Sky God slowly advanced upon it. Then the flying dragon began to glow with golden light. Steven's eyes widened as he watched Hoenn's saviour drive relentlessly into Groudon's heart.

    He felt the rumble of the earth as Groudon smashed off the ground. The earth rumbled and protested, but Rayquaza was stronger than the Earth God could ever hope to be. Hoenn's ancient protector reared back and Steven knew that it was over.

    His vision began to fade, dark shadows starting to creep in at the edges of his sight. He felt a solemn presence touch his mind and realized that his metag was still alive.

    Tears streamed freely down his face. He had known that he was sending his starter into an impossible situation. Knowing that his stubborn old metagross had survived anyways was all the peace that his body needed.

    He felt something lumber over him, and blankly watched his Metagross lift him off the ground with its mind. He tried to turn his head to watch Rayquaza savage the rising Kyogre, but found that his head refused to turn.

    Calm acceptance washed over him as his metagross confirmed his suspicions. He was broken. There would be no miracles for him. Not even Jirachi's wish would have been able to save him now. He felt himself fall to the ground and looked helplessly up at the sky.

    Steven Stone faded away. He didn't fight the end. Hoenn was safe. The world was safe. Wallace was safe. That was all that mattered to him.
     
    The Champions Part 1: A Shade of Myself
  • Joshthewriter

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

    Part 1

    A Shade of Myself


    We were already broken. Each of us messed up in our own special way. I had my PTSD. Alder was a drunk. Benga, a bloodthirsry savage. Liza was lost and alone. But that fucking war? It tore our broken souls into a thousand pieces and dared us to stitch ourselves back together so we could be broken a hundred more times. To say it was hell would be a disservice to hell.

    - Jason Rykker, 'The Shade'


    I leaned forward in the seat, straightening my spine. The lights flared behind my guest and I breathed in sharply, acutely aware of myself. Even during my League days, I'd never been particularly happy in the spotlight. I was content to live a humble life in the middle of nowhere with the last few members of my team. Of course, recent events made that an impossibility now.

    "Relax, Mr. Rykker. Forget about the camera. It's just the two of us having a drink in your study."

    I shot her a look that probably made her regret ever coming out for the interview. Or not, I could never tell with reporters. "I just don't like the lights is all," I replied, managing to keep a civil tone. "I spent too much time in them during my younger days."

    She didn't answer immediately, still fiddling with her voice recorder. She was young, probably only a year or two older than I'd been when I made Champion. Just another example of the League's stunning efforts to influence public perception.

    They'd never wanted the interviews to go ahead in the first place, preferring to steer the narrative with coordinated leaks to friendly media members. They said that it would be safer for any survivors that way, to minimize the spotlight on our horrific actions during those nine months of hell. So they'd worked their magic and had the youngest and most inexperienced reporter in UNN's docket assigned to my interview.

    She looked up at me, voice recorder finally ready. "So, shall we begin?" She asked. She lifted her notepad and glanced down at the clipboard containing the League provided talking points.

    I nodded, ready to steer the script away from those approved talking points as aggressively as I could. We went through hell for this country. I wasn't about to hide the real war from it. "Ready as I'll ever be."

    "Then let's start at the beginning. Tell me about how the Champions came together. Tell me what happened that fateful night two years ago."

    I nodded. "You're expecting some grand show of comraderie. Some great heroic speech that rallied the rest of the Champions behind me." I smirked, knowing that I'd grab her attention with the story of that fateful night. "But the truth is that we weren't even 'The Champions' until the war was over. We were just a bunch of scared trainers who refused to give up our friends to Ghetsis." I tipped back the drink I had poured for myself and steeled myself for the memories. "I was just making dinner when it happened."


    The news had been blaring all day. A breaking news chevron ticked across the screen as a half-dozen talking heads offered useless opinion and banter in a confusing mess. Opelucid was still buried in ice, and chaos ruled the streets. I was in the kitchen, scrambling together a quick meal before I missed something important. As hectic as the night had been, we were hungry. We still had to eat, and like hell I was trusting Sherys in the kitchen.

    "Jason?" Sherys called from the couch. Her voice sounded scared, worse than it had been when I run into the kitchen. "You better come see this."

    I dashed back down the hallway and into the living room, eyes gravitating immediately towards the TV. The breaking news chevron was back and the scene cut to the anchorman with a solemn look on his face. "Ladies and gentlemen, I regret that I bring some terrible news. The Opelucid City Gym Leader, Drayden Shaga has been confirmed to have been killed in the attack. No word yet on the official casualty numbers, but Unova has suffered a terrible tragedy today."

    I didn't say anything, still staring at the screen mutely as the anchor continued droning on. Drayden gone... It just didn't seem possible. He was so indomitable, so indestructible. He was the media's darling, the heir apparent to Alder's throne until he revealed that he'd been grooming young Iris for the role. Rumour had it that the only reason he hadn't taken the Champion's mantle was his respect for Alder.

    Sherys broke the silence with a nervous cough. She picked up the remote and turned off the TV. She was trembling, looking at me for any clue as to my thoughts. I'd seen her cry a thousand times in her movies, but now that there were streams of very real tears running down her beautifully sculpted face I was lost.


    "Tell me about her," the reporter asked. She looked up at me when I didn't reply. "What was your marriage to Sherys like?"

    I paused, knowing that there was no going back from the things I was about to say. I'd be dragging the name of a dead woman through the mud for my own political purpose. I'd say that the decision took me time, but my mind had been decided months ago.

    "It was a private hell of our own making," I replied after a half a beat. "Sherys was a nice enough woman, but it was never a marriage of love. I was a status symbol to her, just a way for her to climb the social ranks just a little bit higher. She used the prestige that our marriage gave her to land starring roles in damn nearly every training drama worth mentioning..." I trailed off, my empty gaze dropping to the floor. "Did you know that she was the League Chairman's granddaughter? I didn't. Not until a few weeks ago actually." My heartbeat quickened and I shook the ice around my drink. "Explains a lot about how things were to be honest."

    "And you met her through your contacts with Elesa Kamitsure?"

    I nodded. "Yeah, Elesa introduced me to one of her modelling friends, set us up on the first date. I actually thought it went well..." I downed the rest of my drink and finally looked back at my guest. "Everything seemed so right at first. Maybe it was real at first. Maybe it was all fake, or maybe just some of it was…" I picked up the bottle I had brought to the study and poured myself another glass. "What the hell do I know? I'm just a stubborn old man who preferred the company of his pokemon to a young woman after my heart."

    The reporter continued scrawling at her notes for another moment before looking up at me. "And what made you realize that it wasn't, as you called it, a marriage of love?"

    I shrugged.

    She smiled at me, a smile that took me off guard. She did look a little like Sherys did at her age, and I think she knew that. She was smarter than I had taken her for, this reporter. She'd done her research. "Now now, Mr Rykker, you did promise to answer my questions. All of them."

    I sighed and looked down at the floor. "There was just this endless tension between us. Probably because she was the Chairman's grandchild. She was a pawn as much as I was. It hung over both of us, even though I didn't understand why at the time. I was kept under close watch by the League and allowed to resume casual training, and the Chairman put his prized grandchild into a marriage that flung her into the upper echelons of society."

    She raised an eyebrow at me. "You were allowed to continue training?" She asked. "Was there a reason you had to stop? If I remember correctly, you retired without losing your mantle as Champion. What could possibly stop someone like that from continuing casual training at the least?"

    I smiled. She had taken the bait. I knew she would. She reminded me of myself a bit, with her attitude. She resented this assignment too, even if I was likely to advance her career significantly. Nobody wanted to interview the broken old man with anger issues so they'd sent the youngest and most inexperienced member of their reporting team. They would probably regret that soon enough. Someone a little more experienced might have been able to stop me, steer me toward what the network wanted.

    I sat forward in my chair, a devious grin on my face. "The League really doesn't like its dirty laundry aired out in public. I've signed a half-dozen contracts that mean I can't say anything regarding this issue in particular, but there are those who are not similarly bound by that thorny issue. Others who may be able to answer a tough question like that."

    She leaned in closer to me, brushing her curly blonde locks out of her face. "I've never been the type to shy away from tough questions."

    I smiled. "Good," I said softly. "That'll make this a whole lot easier." I leaned back and sipped on my drink again. "Ask me another question. We should really get on with our interview."

    She flipped through her notes and then looked up at me with a satisfied grin. "What made you call Alder that night? Records show that you called him twelve times after UNN went live with the attack on Opelucid."

    I leaned back with a smug knowing grin that the camera would just eat up. "That was a good question, Ms Hall."


    I picked up the phone again. He hadn't answered the last six times, but I had to try anyways. Nobody knew what was going on, and my League handler wouldn't answer his phone either. Sherys had begged me not to bother calling, crying that getting myself killed being a hero wouldn't help anyone. As if I had playing hero on my mind at all. Most of my friends either worked or lived at the League campus north of Opelucid. I was just trying to figure out what was going on. Whether we were really under attack or the situation was under control.

    Alder answered on the third ring. "Rykker?" He asked, panting loudly over the phone. "You got a lot of nerve calling now."

    An explosion rang across the line and I pulled the phone away from my ear. "The hell you doing?" I asked.

    More scuffling and shouts echoed across the line. "I'm a bit busy at the moment," Alder half shouted, his voice muffled as if he wasn't speaking into the phone. "What do you want?"

    "To pass the fucking time, what the fuck do you think?" I turned back to look at the TV and caught Sherys crying into her phone. She'd pulled her platinum blonde hair into a tight ponytail and was half-dressed. I ignored her, watching the UNN feed crackle and die in the middle of the broadcast. "What the hell is happening Alder?"

    The scuffling on the other end slowly abated and died. I heard the phone lift off the dock and somebody breathing heavily. "The same thing that happened two years ago," he said. "Except this time we don't have a hero to save us. Plasma is back. They have some new weapon. It just… It freezes everything..." He trailed off and I felt the hurt in his voice. "Iris is gone." He said suddenly. "They hit the league HQ first. All the elites, the executives, Iris…" He trailed off again. Alder had lost his family in a terrible accident at sea a few years back. Only him and his grandson had survived, and he had turned to the drink for it. Iris had been close to Alder since she'd defeated him and become Champion. He'd looked at her like another member of his family and she'd saved him from the bottle. Her loss was sure to send my old friend off the deep end again.

    I took a second to breathe. "What do we do?" I asked. As much as Alder was grieving, he'd have a plan for this. He always did.

    "Get out of the country. They'll shut off the teleporters within the day. Our best shot is the Mistralton airport, as long as we get there before Plasma does."

    I nodded and turned to look at Sherys. She was peering out the window, rapid-fire panicking into her cell. At least she'd finished dressing. We'd have to leave immediately. "Meet you there?" I asked.

    "I'll try, but I just had a member of the Shadow Tri-"

    The line died in a sudden burst of static. I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it suspiciously. That hadn't been a normal disconnection. One of the lines had been cut. I put the phone down and hung up on the call. I picked it back up cautiously, praying that I would hear a normal dial tone. Angry static answered me.

    "Sherys," I called, turning away from the phone. Our line had been cut. Somebody was here. "Get away from the window."

    She turned to look at me, still panicking into her phone. She lowered it and opened her mouth to say something.

    I never heard what she said. The window exploded, peppering the living room with a thousand shards of glass. A dagger of glass impaled my right shoulder, but I was saved from the brunt of the blast by virtue of standing in the hallway between our kitchen and living room.

    Sherys hadn't been so lucky. She'd been at the window. She fell back and hit the floor hard. I could hear her desperately gasping for air. I tore out the shard of glass in my shoulder, probably doing permanent damage in the process. I didn't care. I crawled over to my wife, cussing under my breath with every agonizing movement as I painted the chic carpet she'd picked out with my blood.

    It was too late for me to do anything for her. She was dead by the time I'd crawled across the room. My gorgeous, innocent wife was dead and I couldn't do a damn thing to save her.


    She sat back, stretching her arms. "You said that it wasn't a marriage of love. But at the same time, you've previously mentioned the death of your wife as one of the hardest hitting deaths of the war. Why do you think that Sherys' death has weighed on you so heavily?"

    I sighed and shrugged again. "I couldn't say. We were never overly close, except for at the beginning. But you don't just live with someone for almost ten years without coming to care for them."

    She looked up at me. "There's more to it than that though. You gave a completely different answer to your League handlers during your debrief."

    "You aren't supposed to have access to that," I growled. I'd been downright hostile to the League spooks when they brought me in. As little as I cared about my public image, that recording was not one that painted me in a good light.

    She smiled. "I'm a good reporter, Mr. Rykker, despite my age. It wouldn't be the first time I got a hold of something the League didn't want released."

    I stayed silent for a moment, just studying her. I wasn't sure whether to open up or kick her out of my house. She was smarter than I'd given her credit for

    "Look," she started. "I can tell that you've got a whole little blood feud going on between you and the League. It's plain enough to anyone with a brain. I know that you're planning on hijacking this interview to paint the League in the worst light you can. But I'm here to tell your story. This interview? It's not for the league. It's for the people of Unova. They want to meet their heroes. They want to know that they're people just like the rest of us." She sat back and glanced down at my drink, brushing her hair away from her face again.

    I nodded slowly. I reached down for my bottle and picked it up. I slowly and methodically topped off my glass and produced another one from my side table. I poured a generous amount and held it out to her. She took it in silence, still watching me as I put the bottle back beside my chair. "I told you already that I'm not a hero. A real hero would have saved the people they cared about."

    "Instead, you just saved hundreds of innocent trainers and directly contributed to the downfall of a dangerous madman. Not all heroes are straight from legend."

    I smirked. She really was good at using words to her advantage. Probably why she was a reporter. I raised my glass and clinked it against hers. "To heroes then," I said solemnly.

    She raised her glass and we drank together.


    Sherys just looked up at me with that stiff, terrified expression. I didn't know what was happening, or what to do. I felt like anything but a hero in that moment.

    Fortunately, my pokemon weren't so lackadaisical in their own responses. Demeter, my trevenant was bellowing a ghastly warning out in the yard. Phantom roots and vines had risen from the dirt and wrapped themselves around the assailant. My phantom tree had always felt more at home standing guard outside the house, and now she had turned my front yard into a nightmare of haunted foliage. I couldn't tell where Soulfire was, but the chandelure had to be close by. I could feel his careful gaze on me, watching for any further disturbance.

    I left Sherys there, something that haunts me to this day. She was just a pawn like me, used by the League for their twisted version of control. She was an innocent woman, married to someone she didn't love. She didn't deserve to die for the fact that she lived with me. The fact remained that I didn't have the time to spare a proper burial. Demeter may have stopped the attacker, but I doubted that he'd be the last. Plasma had planned on wiping all Champion level trainers off the board during their first attempt at bringing down the League, and if this really was them I could be sure that they still had that plan.

    So we ran. I returned Soulfire and Demeter to their balls. As much as their presence would have comforted me, they were far too conspicuous for easy travel. They were the only two remaining members of my championship team. They were celebrities in their own right, with Soulfire's league highlight page eclipsing my own in viewership.

    I released Mandagar, my mandibuzz outside. She was a relatively recent capture, having only recently wandered onto the property and found herself captured by a pair of obscenely powerful ghosts. Still, I needed to fly halfway across Unova in the dead of night. She'd taken to my orders relatively well, but I still had my reservations about the bird. Mandibuzz are vengeful, patient creatures. If she'd wanted to he could have gutted me and flown off, or simply just bucked me off mid-flight. Thankfully though, she had no such plans for the moment.


    "We made it to Mistralton just before morning," I said. I tipped back my drink again, downing the rest of it. "I bought myself a one-way ticket to Kanto. I thought we were home free."

    "So you never planned on gathering in Mistralton?" She asked. "It was just all a coincidence?"

    "Coincidence, fate, call it whatever you want. Just because that's where we fought together for the first time, doesn't mean anything."

    She scrawled madly at her notes before looking back up at me. "So, what happened next?"

    I sighed and lifted the bottle again. This was the part that I'd been dreading. The part that I had never wanted to tell another living soul again. "I found her alone, crying to herself."

    "Would you be referring to Ms. Mayweather?"

    I winced audibly at the mention of her name. "Yeah," I replied in a cold tone. "That's where I met Liza."

    She sipped at her own drink and then looked back at me. "So, what actually happened next?"

    I frowned, thinking back to that god-forsaken airport. "We survived. Despite all of fate's best efforts, we survived."
     
    The Champions Part 2: A Fragile Soul
  • Joshthewriter

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

    Part 2

    A Fragile Soul


    I trudged through the Mistralton airport with a wide-brimmed hat that I'd swiped off the rack at the airport's duty-free shop pulled down to hide my face. I wasn't the only trainer here, there were more hiding in every corner, but I was likely the most famous by far. Former Champions aren't exactly a common sight in public, even during moments of crisis like this. I'd caught a few lingering glances and I knew that I'd been made by at least one of the other trainers here. There was nothing I could have done about it though. My flight didn't leave for another three hours.

    I passed by the desk at the gate and stole a glance at the woman manning the desk. She was deep in argument with a young woman who was growing increasingly agitated. I caught a few lightly accented words and swore under my breath as I realized that she was a foreign trainer, just trying to get out of the country before she lost her friends. I ducked off to the side of the gate and sat myself in the corner of the seating area, as far away from any prying eyes as I could get. As much as I'd have loved to help, I was in no position to do much more than offer empty words.

    I flipped open my Xtranceiver and stared blankly at the screen. Alder still hadn't answered any of my hundred or so texts, making me worried. He was strong, but he was not invincible. None of us were, as we had clearly been shown. Drayden and Iris were examples enough of that. I slammed the Xtranceiver shut and looked out at the rest of the terminal from under my hat.

    The face of Unova's most infamous trainer stared back at me from across the terminal. His messy green hair was tucked under a wide-brimmed hat much like my own, tufts of hair sticking out from the sides of the hat undermining his effort to hide himself. His companion sat down beside him, a girl probably still in the midst of her league challenge. She was sleeping as far as I could tell, her arms folded and her eyes shut. He held a single finger up to his lips, shushing me.

    "So, that's where you met N as well?" She asked as she pushed her glass toward me for a refill.

    We'd moved into my kitchen after I'd complained about needing a snack. She hadn't protested, so I'd put together a platter of snacks for the both of us. Meats, cheeses, veggies, berries, everything you could want was piled up high and served with an oversized jar of vegetable dip. It wasn't much of a meal, but I hadn't really been expecting her to stay for dinner. My fridge wasn't usually stocked for two. It was this or a frozen entree, and I didn't think the entree was appropriate.

    I poured her another generous glass of liquor and pushed it back towards her. "Technically, we'd already briefly met, but yes that is where we spoke for the first time."

    She sipped at her drink, washing down her food. "What was he like?"

    I looked down at my food, my feeling conflicted. On one hand, he had been a pawn of Ghetsis during the first Plasma crisis. He'd been used and discarded the moment his usefulness ran its course, just like I had been. On the other hand, he was still the same man who led a rebellion against the League that resulted in dozens of deaths. He was complicit in that as much as the League had been in creating the conditions that lead to it.

    "He was a dreamer," I said cryptically. "He still saw the world in the same light, still saw the injustice in the League's system. He was still just as ready to fight for a better world." I shrugged, not knowing exactly how to articulate myself. "At least this time he was on our side."

    "That's all great, but I was looking for a more personal take." She put down her notepad and raised an eyebrow at me. "Something real, personal to you."

    I looked up at her and she saw the conflict worn clear on my face. "I hated him for what he was. He was a living symbol of the League's failings. His very existence sparked questions about the League's system, just because he dared to ask if things could be different. Don't get me wrong, I have my issues with the way the League works, but it is fundamentally a good thing." I smiled, lost in thoughts of a happier world. "The idea of a team of people dedicated to the safety of the people? A team to defend us against the monsters of the wild? Its an optimistic idea to be sure. As if that team, that Champion would be above political motives and bullshit of the day..."

    She looked at me with an intriguing smile. "I take it that its not quite as pure as you expected?"

    I frowned. "I never asked for that kind of responsibility. Hell, I didn't know anything about responsibility when I made Champion. I was fifteen for fuck's sake." I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I really can't explain any further. I've already probably said too much."

    She raised an eyebrow at me. "In the privacy of your own home?"

    I smiled innocently at her. "As if I would be allowed such privacy. Do you really think that I'm afforded that? That the League would allow that?"

    She looked down at her notes and frowned. "We were talking about N," she said. She was smart. I could see her putting the clues together in her head. "What did you think of him personally?"

    I nodded and sat back in my chair. I'd given her the clues, hammered her over the head with some of them. All that was left was for me to finish up our interview. "He was nothing like the news reports made him out to be, all soft concern and compassion for those who had been wronged. He was no fiery revolutionary, despite what I'd seen on the news. Just a lost soul looking for someone to help him."

    She looked straight into my eyes and I felt her gaze working through the layers of emotionless exterior that I kept around myself. "But you still hated him?" she asked quietly.

    I nodded. "Yes," I said coldly. "He still thought himself above us, like he was better than the rest of us because he didn't call himself a trainer." I shook my head. "He still had a team of pokemon fit to rival any Champion. He still called them into battle, even when they had no hope of winning. He was a trainer, whether he liked that or not."

    She nodded and jotted down a note on her pad. "Where did you meet Ms. Mayweather?" She asked, pivoting away from N. I think she could tell that she wasn't going to get anything useful out of me with that subject. "Records show she was a part of 'The Champions' from the very beginning. How did she come into play?"

    My expression froze. I fought the urge to pitch my drink at the mention of her name. She hadn't deserved that cold fate, even less so than the rest of us. "Eliza Mayweather was perhaps the greatest hero out of the six. She was trapped in a foreign country, with enemies at every turn. Through it all, she held onto hope that she would see her home again… Hope that I tried to give her."

    "What happened, Mr. Rykker?"

    I hung my head in shame. "She died."


    It had been two and a half agonizing hours. Alder still hadn't shown, something that was beginning to give me pause. I wasn't entirely sure whether I should get on the plane or not.

    Another outburst from the desk drew my attention, along with every other person in the terminal. The woman who had been at desk when I arrived was back at the desk, pleading with the attendant in an increasingly desperate tone.

    I glanced around, watching a half dozen of the other travellers at the gate begin discreetly filming her. She was drawing attention to us all, too much for my liking. Plasma could arrive at any second, and she'd given them the equivalent of a blinking sign in the sky. I stood up, catching a knowing wink from N in the process. The smug bastard probably already knew what I was doing.

    I crossed the gate quickly and sidled up behind the woman. She was sobbing, loud and hard into her phone. "Excuse me?" I said. "Is there a problem?"

    "Oh!" the desk attendant said. "Mr. Rykker, my apologies. We had no clue that you were among us today. I was just-"

    "Stop," I said, hushing her before she could continue. She'd recognized me instantly, something I'd been afraid of. At least I could use that to my advantage. Being a celebrity does have its uses at times. "What is the issue here?" I continued. "It's probably not very good for business for Air Unova to have a former Champion as a disgruntled passenger." I turned to the young woman and smiled. "What seems to be the problem with my companion here?"

    "Well, as I was just explaining to Ms. Mayweather, we cannot change the departure time for any reason. These things are determined far in advan-"

    I turned away, half hauling the desperate young woman away from the desk. She wasn't going to get anywhere like this, and I needed her to calm down. It drew every pair of eyes in the terminal, something that I'd feared. There was nothing I could do. I had to calm her down before someone from Plasma caught wind of the dozen or so trainers impatiently waiting for escape. Or else we were all dead anyways.

    I sat her down in the seat and knelt in front of her. She met my gaze with her own and I could tell she was angry. "Look," I started. "I want to get out of here just as much as you do." My mind drifted back to Sherys and I suppressed tears that I couldn't spare. "Making a scene is just gonna bring them down on us that much faster. You understand?"

    She looked down at her phone, slowly calming the massive sobs wracking her body. "We should have left already," she said between sobs. "We can't be here when they get here. They'll separate us from our pokemon, take them away from us."

    "No," I said. "They won't. They're killing any who resist. The fact that you're here, with me? It means that you resisted."

    "I didn't-"

    I cut her off with an angry glare. "Look, I didn't make the rules. But we have to stay calm. That's the only thing that's gonna get us through this." My eyes didn't leave hers, and I felt her slowly relax as she slowed her breathing. "We aren't the only trainers here, so let's stay calm until we have a reason to panic. We're all here for the same thing so let's just relax and wait for the plane." I smiled as best I could, hoping that my words would get through to her.

    She nodded slowly. "Thank you," she mumbled.

    I smiled in a thinly veiled attempt to raise her mood. "Don't mention it," I said. I stood up slowly and sat down in the seat beside her. "What's your name, kid?" She couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen. Probably came over to try her hand at the Unova circuit when she stalled out in her home country. It was pretty common back then.

    "My name is Liza. I'm from Hoenn."

    I nodded, scanning the crowd for any inquisitive faces. I caught N's gaze for a moment and the condescending bastard just smirked at me. "Well, Miss Liza, welcome to Unova. As you can see, we're in the middle of something at the moment. Please try not to judge us too harshly for it."

    She looked at me blankly, shoulder length brown hair perfectly framing her pretty, young face. She had a red bow tied in her hair and I noticed that her travel gear was relatively new. "Was that supposed to be funny?" She asked.

    I grimaced. I was really only used to speaking with Sherys and my League handler on a regular basis and it was showing. Even my sarcasm wasn't funny, possessing none of the with that I'd had in my youth. "Yes," I said blankly. I looked down at her outfit, eager to change the subject. "New to Unova? I asked?"

    She nodded. "Got here less than a month ago. I was planning on running the League circuit, but that isn't happening now."

    I smiled at her. She was just a kid, travelling and seeing the world before she challenged the League most likely. She was still optimistic about the way the world worked, a lot like I had been before I made Champion. I pitied her. "You probably dodged a bullet there," I said.

    She turned to look at me, confused. "How so?"

    I smiled, my best facsimile of an innocent smile. "The League isn't what you think it is, kid. Take it from me, you're better off finding yourself a nice cushy private sector job and settling down. Better that than trap yourself in responsibility that you never asked for."

    She studied my face. I knew I wasn't making a good first impression, but I didn't really care. I'd calmed her down and gotten her away from the desk. That was all that I really cared about. "You're just a ray a sunshine, aren't you?"

    I smirked. "I'm positively golden," I replied. "Jason Rykker, former Champion of the Unova League."

    She frowned and looked down at her phone. "I know," she started, before she fell silent.

    I traced her view to her phone screen. It was open on a message. I looked away, not trying to intrude. It was already too late for that though. There are some things that aren't for other people to see. That was one of them.


    "If you don't mind my intrusion, what was the message?" She asked.

    I frowned. I hadn't been trying to intrude myself. It still hurt to think about what that kid was trying to say. That she never would get an answer. "I didn't catch it," I said curtly. "It wasn't for my eyes to see."

    She frowned. "But your eyes did see it. I can see that on your face."

    I met her gaze and I think she felt that pushing on this wasn't going to get her an answer. So she changed her tack. "Moving on," she continued. "Your plane was leaving in half an hour. What happened that made you miss it?"

    My grip tightened on my drink almost imperceptibly. I never liked showing my emotions to others, even less so when they'd share them with even more. This interview was practically my worst nightmare. "We actually made it to boarding. N and his companion somehow had been a part of the priority boarding and were already on board. Eliza and I were in line, just a few spots away from the desk."

    I relaxed my grip on my drink ever so slightly. Perhaps my therapist had been right by telling me to talk about all this. Should have listened to her before I fired her.

    "Then, the goddamn ceiling exploded. Chunks of concrete, steel, rebar, wood, everything that had been above us just collapsed. I felt a chill down to my bones, and I could barely feel my hands anymore."

    "Was that the arrival of the weapon?" she asked.

    I nodded. "It came from the south, after visiting Castelia and burying Burgh in a casket of ice. Driftveil and Mistralton apparently surrendered right then and there, upon seeing what had happened to Castelia. We had no idea what was happening. With UNN down, the only news we could find were scattered social media posts. All our windows were facing north, so we couldn't even see that damned airship bearing down on us. It hit the airport with that damned weapon and damn-near trapped us all inside."

    She nodded, taking down notes furiously. "How did you escape?" she asked. "It seems like an impossible situation. Kind of makes you see why the public looks at you all like heroes. You did the impossible."

    I snorted with a rude laugh. "Impossible?" I asked incredulously."We were lucky, and smart, and still that wasn't enough! Look who's left of us! Just me and Benga, and Benga ain't gonna tell anyone what really happened, what we really had to do. Little cocky bastard did enough to be considered a fucking war criminal if he'd lost."

    "We're getting sidetracked," she said. "How did you get out of the airport?"

    I smiled, thinking back to that beautiful bastard's entrance. "Alder," I said. "And a metric fucking ton of luck."


    I groaned, lifting with all the strength I had. Demeter was at my side, helping me lift the steel girder off Liza's leg. The poor girl had been trapped under the ceiling as it fell, sheer luck sparing me from being crushed alongside her. She wriggled out, cursing and spitting in an accent that had noticeably thickened.

    "Thanks," she said quietly as she dusted herself off. "What now?"

    I found it odd that she so immediately trusted me, but I guess being a Champion does lend you that kind of trust in dire situations. "We gotta move, before..."

    She followed my gaze, finding the reason my voice had just died in my throat. The massive airship floating above Mistralton was a monstrosity, hundreds of slits peeking open at us from the bottom of the ship. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that they were cannons of some kind. A larger weapon was slung below the ship, venting snow in massive plumes that already blanketed the ship's path.

    The cannon groaned and shifted as the ship hovered in place. I turned to look at Eliza, fear in my eyes. "Do you have any fire types?" I asked.

    She shook her head. I could see movement from the remnants of the airport terminal, but I had no time to call for more assistance. I had no way of knowing if any of those still alive were even trainers.

    I swore. Soulfire was out in a flash of light, his ghostly flames doing nothing to ward off the cold. Ghost fire did not offer heat, not for the living. "Find us a tunnel!" I shouted, looking back at Liza. It was a ghost of a chance, a thin hope at best, but there had to be some way out. I turned back to face the ship, my courage drying up as I watched the massive cannon level itself with me. I glanced up at my chandelure, watching the flame in his central lantern rage against cruel fate. "Overheat!"

    Soulfire erupted like a volcano. For a brief, fleeting moment, the full force of a champion level fire type ignited the morning sky.

    The ship fired again, painting the sky white with ice and snow. An avalance met the force of the sun, clashing with an eruption of steam.

    I covered my face with my arm, praying that Eliza had survived the blast. Demeter was at my side, and I knew that we had precious little time. "HYPER BEAM!"

    Demeter opened her maw, a brilliant ball of iridescent energy swirling in the dead tree's open mouth. She spat the beam into the sky, directly at the ship that had buried us in snow. I felt the shockwave hit us and stumbled when it washed over me. I looked back up into the sky, praying that I'd just saved us all.

    The steam cleared after a few moments, leaving us with a horrifying sight. The ship hung there motionless, not a scratch on the hull. I couldn't even see an impact crater on the bottom of the ship, giving me fear that Demeter had missed.

    The ship's cannon began venting snow again, and I resigned myself to my fate. My pokemon were spent, Demeter barely even able to move after using a move like that. Soulfire wouldn't be able to use overheat at that power again, not so soon after the last time. We were dead.

    Flames and lightning erupted from the ruined terminal. They hit some kind of invisible barrier around the ship. The bubble of energy flared and I realized that fighting would be futile. We were all so dead.

    A charizard lifted off the ground, carrying a young trainer into the sky. They were trying to hit the ship from a different angle or something. The kid was brave. He was the son of a former Kantoan Champion, on vacation with some of his friends. They were the ones fighting now, taking after my example. They were the real heroes. Not one of them were over thirteen, and yet they rushed into battle regardless.

    I never saw the ship fire. I only saw the result. A couple idealistic kids dead, their pokemon gored by a hundred spears of ice. The charizard and her rider hit the ground off to my side, plowing through the frozen remnants of a plane's fuselage. I wasn't watching anymore, I'd turned away to look for Liza. She waved me over and I ran for my life. I returned my pokemon to my ball, doing my best impression of a civilian just running for their lives. It would never have worked. I was too far away and I'd already given myself away as a trainer.

    Alder and Benga chose their moment perfectly. A pair of volcarona swept over the battlefield, bathing the airship in flames that would have melted any of my pokemon on their best day. I covered my eyes as a pair of stars hit the ship's shield with all the force that the flaming bugs could muster. A firestorm erupted overhead and I no longer spared any thought for the battle overhead. My only thought was of survival.

    I found myself in the tunnel that Liza had been waving from. N was sitting against the wall of the tunnel panting heavily. His companion was gone. I didn't bother to ask what had happened. I didn't have to.


    I set down my drink and glanced back at the clock. "It's getting late, Ms Hall. Perhaps we should continue this in the morning?"

    She looked up from her notepad. "Agreed," she said. She glanced at the time and grimaced at the realization of how late it was. Or perhaps it was early at this point, I could never tell. "It seems that I should have booked a hotel room."

    I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't surprised by that. There weren't many hotels around my remote home north of Aspertia, and the interview had only been supposed to last an hour or so. "I do have a spare room, if you wouldn't mind staying the night."

    She nodded and closed her notebook. "I wouldn't," she said. "We can continue the rest of the interview tomorrow."

    I rose to my feet and dropped our shared plate into the sink. "Follow me, then," I said. "But stay close. I've heard that this place can be very haunted at night."

    She drew closer to me and I couldn't help but chuckle. The ghosts that haunted me weren't pokemon, but she didn't need to know that. She didn't need to know that I still see their faces in my dreams at night. The house wasn't any more haunted than my last house had been. I was the one who was haunted by the past, by the memories of those I couldn't save.

    I might not be a hero, but maybe I can give those memories the justice they deserve. Just maybe. All it'll take is a little push in the right direction.
     
    The Champions Part 3: What it Means to Lose
  • Joshthewriter

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

    Part 3

    What it Means to Lose


    Demeter was in her usual place in the yard, feigning innocence as a normal tree. As if the misshapen hollow trunk could be anything other than haunted. There was a rustle of movement on the fence line and I watched Demeter's eyes light up.

    Phantom roots tore free of the dirt, wrapping around the intruders eagerly. A pair of lillipup writhed in Demeter's grasp, howling and yelping madly as my ghost lifted them into the air. Demeter scuttled over to them and her trunk cracked open to reveal rows of jagged, razor sharp teeth.

    A deafening bark interrupted her meal. A pair of stoutland leapt over the fence, landing between Demeter and her morsels. They growled as the lean forms of nearly a dozen herdier slunk through the underbrush to join their pack leaders.

    Demeter looked back at me with one baleful eye. She had the strength to tear the entire pack to pieces if she decided to do so, but she looked to me for guidance first.

    I shook my head. We did not need to make enemies of the wild pokemon out here. This was their home as much as ours.

    Demeter closed her maw and slowly lowered the two pups, reluctant to let her catch go. I would have to let her hunt soon, she was getting restless.

    The pack departed a moment later, one of the stoutland glancing up at the human watching from his study. The pokemon's eyes lingered on me for a long moment, and then they were gone.

    "Enjoying the show?"

    I turned. She was standing in the door, haggard and half asleep. Her hair was up in a messy bun, loose strands poking in every direction. The stoutland must have woken her. It was easy to forget that normal people slept for more than an hour or two each night.

    "Demeter is restless," I said. "She misses battling."

    "Don't you?"

    I raised an eyebrow. "Save the questions for your interview, miss Hall."

    She smiled softly and I couldn't help the flutter of life that I felt in my chest. She really did look like Sherys. It almost wasn't fair. "It's a fair question. People don't just disappear into the woods." She shrugged. "I don't know, you just got me thinking. What are you really out here for? What made you move to the middle of the damn wilderness?"

    I sighed. She was insistent, so we might as well start. "Shower is down the hall from your room." I stood up, draining the rest of my coffee. "I'll get another pot brewing."


    We fought like madmen, like demons had possessed us. There was no option for mercy, no truly safe place we could retreat to. Each battle was simple. Kill or be killed. Win or die. There was no middle ground. If we lost just once, it was all over. With travel in and out of Unova locked down, we had no other choice but to keep fighting.

    Liza lost her delcatty, Beauty, when we hit the rail yards in Nimbasa. Elesa had been feeding us information on a new staging ground being built just outside the city. Our best chance was taking out the rail yards and lines that led to Plasma's new base.

    It had been a bloodbath, with civilians caught in the crossfire on both sides. Plasma didn't care about the civilians and we couldn't afford to spare our attention for them. More than once I came across the body of someone who'd gotten too close to one of my ghosts, to say nothing of the carnage Benga's dragons caused. Not one of us was innocent that night, save for Liza herself as usual.

    We rescued a pair of trainers from the fledgling base before Alder's volcarona laid waste to the construction site. Brothers, from Undella town. They thanked us and disappeared into the night. I never saw them again.

    A week later, we stopped Plasma as they raided the store that had been feeding us supplies. We weren't fast enough to save the store owner or his family though. Plasma had left them outside as bait, still bound to draw us in. That was the last time we had any willing help from the civilian population. Too many people were cowed into silence by the threat that came with aiding the resistance.

    Those opening months of the war burned through the last of my tattered morality. I fought like a Champion once more. I killed. I had no other choice. None of us did.

    There was one time where I'd been knocked out by an explosion. Something hit the gas tanks of the fuel refinery we were attempting to sabotage. I was thrown like a rag doll, woke up half an hour later with the rest of the poor bastard that had been beside me plastered across my body. I still smell that damn stench every night when I think that I might sleep.

    Liza lost her innocence and half of her team in the first few months. Years of work raising them, and in three months Plasma took half of her progress away as if it meant nothing.

    Alder retreated into the drink again. It was rare a moment that he did not have a bottle or a flask in his hands. His mood turned sour, much like it had done after his family's accident.

    Benga was the only one who didn't lose himself. Mostly because the savage little shit lived for battle. He fought with a ferocity that surprised even Alder, if you could get him to admit it. His dragons left more bodies behind than any of ours, more than Plasma ever dared to.

    N was changed more than any of us by the war. The compassionate hero of ideals that stole the hearts of half of Unova was a wreck of his former self. He just didn't have the same spark, that same heart that he used to. Watching your father commit genocide and being forced to commit atrocities of your own would break even the strongest person. It broke N utterly. Well, that or the deaths of half his team in the Black City rebellion did.


    She flipped open her notepad and leaned back in her seat. "The League paints the resistance as a tragic effort, doomed from the very start. In their portrayal, you barely held on until the Hero of Truth saved Unova for a second time."

    I couldn't help but to snort in laughter. "That's an understatement if I've ever heard one. We were hopelessly outmatched by Plasma's new weapon. Even with the two inferno bugs, we couldn't do more than scratch the paint on the fucking thing."

    "So what was your plan?"

    I shrugged and looked down at my coffee noncommittally. "Hit them wherever it wasn't. Oftentimes, we'd have Alder or Benga draw that damn war machine away so we could strike at a holding facility or hit whatever infrastructure they were setting up."

    "But it did work, at least for a time?"

    I nodded. "We barely slowed them down, but we made a difference. We saved less than five hundred trainers. Out of tens of thousands, less than five hundred. So many cocky young kids just starting their journey, retired trainers like myself…" My voice dropped to a whisper and I fought the urge to seize up. "It's the things like this that still haunt me, miss Hall. The unimaginable horror that we witnessed on a daily basis. Not a day went by where the spectre of death did not hang over us all. I forget sometimes, for an hour or two. I let myself rest. Their faces always come back in my dreams."

    She lowered her note pad and I saw the concern etched on her face. "We don't have to do this," she said softly. "We can sto-"

    I slammed my fist on the table. "No, we can't! Those people deserve better than to be swept under the rug like they never existed, like they didn't lose their lives because of us!" I slowed my breathing. I couldn't come off as unhinged in the interview. I needed people to see the hurt in me, to see the pain of knowledge that I carried. "Sixty-two thousand trainers were registered in Unova at the time. There were less than a thousand at the end of the Second Plasma Crisis." I scowled. "I don't have to tell you the math for you to understand that."

    "When I was Champion, the League was already crumbling under the weight of rank corruption among our officials. I did what I could, but who listens to a kid? I couldn't make a difference then, and by the time I was old enough to be taken seriously I'd had enough of fighting the system." I sighed heavily and met her piercing eyes. "I failed Unova as a Champion. She deserved better than a jaded fool like me. I let the system create the monster that was Plasma. I let our country be overtaken by extremism and ran when the task was too much for me."

    She was quiet for a moment while she studied the notes she had made. "In your opinion, did the League react sufficiently to the first Plasma insurrection?"

    I met her eyes with a sad, knowing smile. "Not at all. They let the rank and file walk with some community service for the most part. The leaders were forced to pay a fine and pledge never to participate in politics again." I snorted at the thought. "They wanted N, and Ghetsis, but how were they planning on finding them? They'd both disappeared after the Hero saved all our asses."

    "Mr. Blake did go after them though."

    I shook my head. "No, he went after N. Poor bastard was a misguided fool, but Ghetsis was the real threat. N had always just been a pawn, even if he was the figurehead on Plasma's throne." I paused for a long moment and drained the rest of my coffee. "Nobody went after Ghetsis."

    She frowned. "But the League-"

    "Assigned a task force to hunt him down," I replied curtly. "Which was never funded and never began field operations. Almost as if someone didn't want Ghetsis found."

    She frowned. "Who would have wanted that?" She asked.

    I shrugged. "Like I said, the danger of not punishing insurrection leads to more insurrection. Someone at League HQ was on Ghetsis' side. Not like anyone who knows who is still alive. Why do you think Ghetsis had his flying fortress ice League HQ first?"

    "Covering his tracks," she commented. "He destroyed all the evidence of League involvement."

    I nodded. "What makes you think Benga's new League is any different?"


    N had us a plan to end the war. It was madness, absolutely insane bullshit, but we had nothing else. There was no other play. Just the mother of all Hail Mary plays.

    We were to stage a two-pronged assault on Plasma's main base, a facility that they constructed over the Great Chasm. Benga and Alder would lead the trainers we'd managed to recruit against the fortress while Eliza, N and I snuck past the outer defences and blew the generators powering its weapons.

    We had help from a few other regional Leagues, notably the Indigo and Hoenn leagues. They had their own Plasma sympathizer movements brewing and wanted to uproot the entire source. I wasn't going to complain, especially when nearly two-hundred elite level trainers appeared on our doorstep. Even had a few Elites that came in real handy.

    Ghetsis was struggling for control by this point. He couldn't be everywhere at once and we knew it. The general population seemed to know it too. People weren't offering help anymore, but the tone of conversation grew in volume. People had seen Plasma struggle to stamp us out and it gave them hope.

    We put out feelers into the civilian population for aid. I didn't expect much, but N put out the call. He denounced what Plasma had become and called on any former members to join the final fight against true evil. Plasma would catch wind of the plan, but we wanted that. We wanted them to meet us with everything they had. We would be meeting them with everything we had and more. It was only fair.

    When we finally met at the ruins of Humilau City. The tropical waters had been frozen solid when Ghetsis had first gotten wind of Resistance activity. Six months later, the entire lagoon the city was built over was still on ice.

    We had the our people bunk up in the city. Nearly two-thousand trainers and armed civilians, all hardened by half a year of brutal war. To my knowledge, it was the largest force of trainers ever gathered in Unova. We were a bunch of scared kids and exhausted retirees, but we were an army.

    We'd gotten word that Plasma was pulling back, drawing down their numbers in the occupied cities nationwide. They must have realized what was going on. Alder and I made the call. There was no more waiting. We marched for war. Unova had been spared true war during the first Plasma Crisis. This time, she would not be so lucky.


    I leaned back in my chair. My drink was heavy in my hand. I looked down at the glass and drained it. "I've never repeated this story to another person," I started. "That day… that battle… it was the closest thing to hell on earth, except it was frozen." I shuddered and closed my eyes. "The main thrust of the army charged the fortress, braving the fire of those frigid cannons with the help of the foreign Elites.

    I led N and Eliza ahead, using Soulfire to keep the fire off of us. We cut our way through Plasma's lines and kept going, catching them off guard with the suddenness of our attack."

    "All reports of the battle itself are muddled at best. Owing to both the scarce number of survivors and the lack of transparent public documentation, we have no clue what really happened there." She looked up from her pad. "So tell me," she continued. "What did happen? Plasma fell, but Champion Benga was uncooperative to say the least."

    I looked at my empty drink and scowled. "We were saved yet again, when we didn't deserve it. The Hero of Truth and the Hero of Ideals came to our rescue. And they paid for our victory dearly." I rose to my feet, a stoic mask hiding my brooding mind. Just thinking about that day was bringing back the horrors, like I was reliving the events with every word. "I am sorry, miss Hall. I seem to have run out of whiskey." The face of the young Plasma guard as Soulfire immolated him roared to the front of my mind. "If you'll excuse me," I mumbled. I turned and walked away, leaving my interviewer sitting quietly in my study.

    I wandered for a few minutes, mindlessly pacing the kitchen before disappearing into my liquor cellar. Down there I could hide. Down there I was alone. Down there, the faces couldn't find me.
     
    The Champions Part 4: Truth Laid Bare
  • Joshthewriter

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

    Part 4

    Truth Laid Bare


    We were under fire from the moment we broke cover. A few of the Indigo Elites were drawing most of it, but Plasma had fortified the hell out of that base. There were at least half a dozen gun emplacements, all of them raining steel down onto the field. One of the foreign Elites went up on his aerodactyl, burning away the big guns as he went. It wasn't much, but it was enough at least to give us an opening.

    He made for the airship docked to the roof of the base, Alder and Benga going with him as more of our trainers swarmed the walls of the compound. We were taking losses, but we had a chance with the airship still docked and her cannon silent.

    Soulfire melted us a hole in the wall. There'd been a pair of guards on the other side. They were charred beyond recognition and I stepped over their corpses like they meant nothing. More trainers charged through behind us, an entrance finally made into the base itself.

    N, Liza and I moved deeper into the base, cutting our way through the mooks Neo-Plasma had hired as our forces moved into the compound. Plasma been an army of dreamers and idealists before. Now, Ghetsis had hired an army of criminals and malcontents. He still had the shadow triad on his side, but most of his troops were little more than armed thugs with a scant few mercenary trainers thrown in. We'd cut through these men our entire war, and that didn't change now.

    N led the way, I cut us a path and Liza covered my ass. It all made for a well oiled machine. We even cut our way through Ghetsis' precious shadow triad, leaving the foreign shinobi dead in the dirt. It seemed like we might even win… Until it arrived. Until he arrived on the field. Then we were dead, and nothing could save us but a miracle.


    I tightened my grip on the glass. "Alder and Benga had gone to confront Ghetsis. A mistake, perhaps the one that I think of most."

    She leaned over her notepad. "Why would you say that?" She asked.

    "Ghetsis really really wanted Alder dead. I think the preceding Champion's continued survival was a personal insult to a guy like that. He had to put Alder down, had to crush our spirits and end the battle decisively."

    "You are a former Unova League Champion yourself. Was this same reaction not extended to you?"

    I shook my head. "I was hardly a celebrity by the beginning of the war. Alder was our public face, Alder was the one the public believed in, who our hastily recruited army fell behind." I met her eyes again. "Why do you think Ghetsis did what he did?"

    "So that is when he released the creature?"

    I nodded, glancing over at the fire I'd built in the small fireplace off my study. It got cold out here sometimes, especially as Unova's climate recovered from the final atrocity of Ghetsis' war. "Kyurem should have been left at the bottom of that fucking chasm," I said. "Instead, Ghetsis found it and corrupted it. He turned a noble creature into a weapon of war." I looked back at her. "Then we got our fucking miracle."


    Demeter shrieked in panic, pointing up at the deafening thrum of power. The airship was opening, the chamber around her ventral cannon splitting apart. The temperature plummeted, like something had sucked all the warmth straight from the world.

    I ducked back behind cover, bellowing desperately at Soulfire. My chandelure lit up like a supernova, a storm of ghostfire rising to meet our icy doom. A second firestorm joined ours, N and his darmanitan having the same idea.

    It wasn't enough. It was never going to be enough. We managed to clear part of the incoming attack, but you can't truly stop something like that. Eliza was down, clutching at the frozen spear that had impaled her through the chest.

    I got to my feet, taking a nervous step towards the girl who never lost hope that she'd get home. I didn't make another. I just stood there a long moment. She was just gone, like she'd never been there at all.

    Pain and panic erupted from the compound, Plasma and our forces all struck by Kyurem's terrible power. Ghetsis fired on his own people's positions, just to hit us. It was just cruelty at this point. This wasn't a war anymore, only death for the sake of death. At least half our forces were down, more of Neo-Plasma. One of the foreign Elites was dead, his pokemon's psychic barriers falling away uselessly.

    Ghetsis waved something forward. We saw the terrible shape of his hydreigon looming over his shoulder. We saw the body of our beloved Champion raised high over the side of the ship. Then he fell. Alder fell and there was nothing any of us could do.


    "Alder's death has been said to have been the rallying cry that saved the allied forces." She looked up from her notepad, a look of exhaustion on her face. I'd been recounting the battle for at least an hour, poring over ever detail I could recall. If I was tired, I could imagine how she felt. "Champion Benga referred to it as the turning point."

    I scowled, shaking my head. "It was the turning point, but not because of anything we did. Alder's death broke our forces. I saw trainers just staring defeated up at the ship, pokemon waiting for Kyurem to kill the rest of us. Benga wants to act like we rallied behind him as he avenged his grandfather…"

    She raised an eyebrow as my voice trailed off. "Did you not?"

    I shook my head. "I don't know where Benga was. I thought he had gone to help Alder and the surviving foreign Elite, but there was no sign of him." I looked directly at her, letting her see the truth in my eyes. "We did not rally. We hid and cowered and let Unova's real heroes win the day."

    "Who would that have been?"

    "Truth and Ideals themselves," I replied. "People who were better than 'The Champions' could ever have claimed to be."

    "N and Hilbert?" She asked.

    I nodded slamming back the last of my drink. "Like I said, real heroes."


    I'd only ever seen N unleash Zekrom once before. When his team had been caught out of position and outnumbered in Black City, he'd loosed a storm that had melted several city blocks to a sea of molten glass. It had won us the day and allowed our escape that day, at a heavy cost.

    He loosed Zekrom now, bathing the airship's open cannon cavity with living light. Another deafening roar echoed from above and living flame joined the fray. Reshiram was here, the Hero of Truth mounted astride the dragon.

    Both dragons hit Kyurem, taking it down to the chasm along with a large portion of the airship. We could hear the terrible struggle, could feel the walls of the chasm aching with the stress. I'd seen the aftermath of the terrible war between gods in Hoenn the year before. I knew that we had to go, lest all of us be swallowed by the chasm.

    I ordered our remaining forces to retreat from the base, supporting any injured that they could. I didn't discriminate between Neo-Plasma members or allied trainers and neither did they. We were one species for a brief moment, all working to stay alive.

    Then Benga appeared, Ghetsis' corpse in tow. The chasm behind him began to collapse and we could hear the terrible sounds of battle threatening to rise from the deep again. I didn't stop to ask questions. I didn't stop to think. I should have. Maybe I could have stopped him then.


    Miss Hall leaned forward, looking at me expectantly. "What are you implying, Mister Rykker? That Champion Benga allowed Alder to be killed?"

    I shrugged. "I'm just connecting the dots, Miss Hall. Benga didn't require medical attention, neither did any of his pokemon. How did he take down a trainer like Ghetsis without a single injury?" She didn't answer, so I continued my rant. "Just look at the testimony of the surviving Indigo Elite. He testified that Benga was conspicuously absent from the final battle. Both Alder and the Elite were both under the impression that they had Benga's support."

    She sat back, a disbelieving look on her face. "I don't believe that Champion Benga would have killed his own grandfather."

    "I never said that he did," I replied. "Just that his own pokemon were uninjured. The foreign Elite corroborates this story, having berated our new Champion after the battle…" I trailed off, letting her mind work through the clues. "Benga stood aside and let them battle alone, only to swoop in at the last moment to steal the glory. He ensured that he would become the next League Champion, that he and not Alder would stand as Unova's new hero."

    She shook her head, sighing. "I just don't believe it," she said. "He may not be what the League presents him as, but Champion Benga is not suspected of causing Alder's death.

    I shrugged. "You can tell yourself that as many times as you like. I prefer to believe that he is who he is who he showed himself to be."

    It was silent for a long, painful moment. She stared down at her notepad, wrinkling her nose. "Nobody's going to believe your story," she said. "It'll get buried and you'll be painted as a hermit driven crazy by the war."

    "Maybe I am," I said, looking down at an empty glass. "Maybe I'm just a crazy old man who doesn't remember the most horrific events of my life. Maybe I've forgotten things that could never be forgotten." I smirked, knowing that I'd done enough. "But you're wrong that nobody's going to believe me."

    She raised her eyebrow. "Who'd believe you?" She asked. "I don't even really believe you."

    "Benga will," I replied. "And he'll show you the truth that I couldn't." I stood up, walking over to the large window over my yard. "Go back to UNN. File your story. Then wait. Soon you'll all see just what kind of monster you've anointed."
     
    The Champions Part 5: Guilt and Conviction
  • Joshthewriter

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

    Part 5

    Guilt and Conviction


    I sat back in front of the television, tall glass of whisky in my hand. Soulfire was above the kitchen table, glowing faintly and casting the entire room in pale, cold light. The UNN special was set to begin, and I knew we would be receiving visitors before it was over.

    I kicked back, my recliner's stool flipping out as I leaned back. The screen went dark, ominous music kicking in. I lifted my remote, flipping on the surround sound and cranking the volume.

    'Two years ago, they saved the region from true tyranny. They stopped Ghetsis, stopped the second Plasma Crisis, but so much of their war is shrouded in mystery. So much has been a secret, until now. Join us tonight as we unravel the story behind The Champions.'

    I smirked. This was gonna be good.

    'Miss Eliza Mayweather was the simplest of the team.'

    Liza's face flashed up on the screen. It morphed, shifting to highlights of her Hoenn League Gym matches.

    'She was a young girl, joining Unova's League after a disappointing loss in her home region of Hoenn.'

    I appeared on the screen, sitting in my study with a drink. My expression was cold and frozen. "Eliza Mayweather was perhaps the greatest hero out of the six. She was trapped in a foreign country, with enemies at every turn. Through it all, she held onto hope that she would see her home again…" my voice trailed off and I saw the pain and hurt on my face. "Hope that I tried to give her."

    Miss Hall leaned forward. "What happened, Mr. Rykker?"

    I hung my head and all of Unova got to see the pain. "She died."

    The screen cut back to Eliza, back to a picture of her smiling with her sylveon. She looked so young.

    'Miss Mayweather joined The Champions right at the beginning, when a chance encounter at Mistralton International Airport brought her into contact with former League Champion Jason Rykker…



    Elesa's perky smile appeared on the screen. Her hair was up in some weird style that involved hoops and her stunning dress cut a lithe figure.

    I cracked a grin. "Always the show off," I said. "Could never resist it, could you?"

    "He was always a bit grim, but the war really took a toll on him. Jason was always more at home with his ghosts. After Opelucid was hit, after Sherys' death… I think he lost himself a bit. He let the ghosts take control… it was scary."

    "You didn't see Jason Rykker until the battle at the Nimbasa railyards, correct?"

    Elesa nodded. "I'd released my pokemon and stayed in Nimbasa, escaping Neo-Plasma's retribution. I was feeding them supplies and intel and… they came at night. Jason was haggard and gaunt, his eyes seemed to be just empty. It was like he was hardly even a person anymore, just a shade of who he used to be…"

    Elesa had a far-off look in her eye, a sad frown etched on her face. "The sky was burning and I could see the shape of the two volcarona dancing through the smoke. He was covered in blood, none of it his…" She trailed off and looked away from the camera. "He told me that he missed his house, he missed his wife… I just wanted to tell him it was all going to be ok, but I couldn't."

    The interviewer leaned into frame, holding a tissue out to her. "What would you tell him now, if he were listening?"

    She looked back up at the camera. "That he should really call me back," she said, attempting a weak grin.


    I held back a chuckle and drained the rest of my drink. I got to my feet, content to ignore the rest of my profile. It didn't matter. Nothing did until the end of my interview aired.

    I walked into the kitchen, flipping my X-transceiver open and dialling Elesa. It rang twice.

    "That was quick," Elesa's remarked. "You really missed me, eh?"

    I grunted in response.

    She shifted and I could hear voices in the background. "I'm surprised you actually went through with the interview," she said. "Surprised they could even find you."

    I opened my mouth, looking for words. I didn't even remember seeing her that night, didn't remember half of anything after I'd woken up covered in someone else's blood. "I miss her," I said, settling on something I knew.

    "I know," she replied. "You can say that it wasn't love all you want, Jason. I know you, I know the truth."

    I looked up at my chandelure, fighting back the tears. "It wasn't real," I said. "But I miss her all the same."

    "It was real," she said. "Sherys was my friend. Maybe it didn't start out as real, but it grew into something to be proud of."

    The mention of her name broke my façade. I bit back a sob, but the tears were freely falling. "I miss everything about her, the laughing, the smiling… even the terrible burnt grilled cheese…"

    There was a long pause. "You want me to fly out?" She asked. "I can probably be in Aspertia by tomorrow night."

    "No," I replied forcefully. "There won't be a point, darling."

    She paused again. "Jason… what do you mean by that?"

    I lowered the phone. "Just keep watching," I said. "I couldn't just let it sit. I couldn't just let him get away with it…"

    "Jason, what did you-"

    I ended the call and lifted the bottle of whiskey. My nerves were flaring up and they needed calmed. I turned back to my living room, taking the bottle with me. I wasn't going to need the glass.


    "He was a dreamer," I said with a cryptic frown. "He still saw the world in the same light, still saw the injustice in the League's system. He was still just as ready to fight for a better world." I shrugged, not knowing exactly how to articulate myself. "At least this time he was on our side."

    "That's all great, but I was looking for a more personal take." She put down her notepad and her head cocked to the side. "Something real, personal to you."

    I looked up at her and the camera perfectly framed the conflict worn clear on my face. "I hated him for what he was. He was a living symbol of the League's failings. His very existence sparked questions about the League's system, just because he dared to ask if things could be different."

    The screen cut to N, his green hair blowing in the wind. A raging fire was literally behind him, framing him in destructive light.

    "He was dangerous," Benga said, his grinning face appearing on the screen. "And after everything he did, could we really trust him?" Benga shrugged. "I know I definitely didn't-"


    I reached up, muting my entertainment centre while Benga droned on about N's incompetence. I tipped back my bottle and drained the rest of the whisky.

    The narrator shifted towards introducing Benga as I got to my feet. I needed another drink and now was as good a time as any. I didn't need to know any more about that little monster. I knew enough.

    I flipped open my X-Transceiver with my free hand as I grabbed a second bottle out of the cupboard, tapping out a short message to our dear champion.

    'Hope you're watching.'


    "But despite Champion Benga Adeku's continued insistence, rumours of war crimes committed on both sides of the conflict persist."

    The screen cut back to me, sitting morose in my study. My gaze didn't meet the camera and I spoke slowly, searching for the right words. "He just enjoyed it a little too much," I said. "The war was his crucible, his bloody evolution."

    "I know that I lost control. I know that people are dead because of me, no matter how much restraint I showed." I shook my head. "But Benga? Restraint was reserved for none."

    "What are you saying, mister Rykker?"

    I scowled. "That we're all monsters, miss Hall. And Benga's just the monster at the top of the food chain."


    My phone buzzed angrily. I flipped it open, smirking at the furious reply.

    'YOU ARE DEAD.'

    I grinned. I was already dead inside. It was time I dragged the real monster down with me. It wouldn't be long now. All I had to do was wait.


    It was near the end of the program. They'd been covering the final battle, dancing around what I'd accused Benga of. I was still waiting, still watching for the last little bit of weight that would tip the scales away from that monster.

    I was back on the screen, righteous anger on my face as I directed the trainers out of Plasma's crumbling base. "Alder was the one we believed in, the one we fell behind."

    The scene cut to a grainy photo of Alder being thrown from the ship by Ghetsis' hydreigon. "Alder and Benga had gone to confront Ghetsis…"

    The screen cut again, back to the two newscasters sitting at the desk. "Indigo League representatives have made Elite Lance Wataru aware of the following testimony. While the Elite refused to be interviewed, he did corroborate the following interview."

    We were back in my study. My face was gaunt , I'd been speaking for the better part of the day. I was tired. I was exhausted from the years of carrying the war in my head.

    Miss Hall leaned forward, looking at me expectantly. "What are you implying, Mister Rykker? That Champion Benga allowed Alder to be killed?"

    I shrugged. "I'm just connecting the dots, Miss Hall. Benga didn't require medical attention, neither did any of his pokemon. How did he take down a trainer like Ghetsis without a single injury?" She didn't answer, so I continued my rant. "Just look at the testimony of the surviving Indigo Elite. He testified that Benga was conspicuously absent from the final battle. Both Alder and the Elite were both under the impression that they had Benga's support."

    She sat back, a disbelieving look on her face. "I don't believe that Champion Benga would have killed his own grandfather."

    "I never said that he did," I replied. "Just that his own pokemon were uninjured. The foreign Elite corroborates this story, having berated our new Champion after the battle…" I trailed off, letting her mind work through the clues. "Benga stood aside and let them battle alone, only to swoop in at the last moment to steal the glory. He ensured that he would become the next League Champion, that he and not Alder would stand as Unova's new hero."

    She shook her head, sighing. "I just don't believe it," she said. "He may not be what the League presents him as, but Champion Benga is not suspected of causing Alder's death.

    I shrugged. "You can tell yourself that as many times as you like. I prefer to believe that he is who he is who he showed himself to be."

    My study faded and we slowly cut back to the UNN news desk. The blonde woman on the left straightened the stack of papers in front of her as the man nervously cleared his throat.

    "There you have it," he started. "The truth laid-"


    An explosion of violent light interrupted his words. The feed died in a scream of pain and static. I lifted my remote, flipping over to one of Unova's other news channels.

    "We are getting unconfirmed reports of an explosion at UNN headquarters in Castelia City."

    The man put a finger to his ear, looking off camera. "We've got some footage apparently, posted online from a trainer flying into Castelia."

    The screen cut to a shaky view of the fireball, engulfing several floors worth of Castelia skyline. The building groaned and bent as the supports on one side of the building gave way to the flames.

    Then it emerged. Wreathed in flame and burning with furious light, the volcarona tore itself free of the building. It twisted away, the upper floors smashing into the building beside it. Glass and debris showered down from the collapsing buildings, no doubt raining death on the busy streets below.


    My phone buzzed and I looked down. I knew who it would be from before I even read it.

    'You're next.'


    I was waiting on my porch, half-drank bottle of whiskey in my hand. Soulfire was hanging from the roof of the veranda, Demeter waiting in the garden. I'd even dragged Malvus, my old cofragius, out of the basement. We had a champion to greet.

    My phone rang again, the same number that had been calling since the attack on UNN. I ignored it. Whoever it was, it didn't matter anymore. I'd be dead before the night was out. I'd be free to see Sherys and Liza, free to be with those I'd loved and lost.

    It rang again, this time Elesa's ringtone. I let it ring once, then answered with a grunt.

    "He's coming for you," she said. "And he's gonna kill you."

    "I know," I said with a shrug. I couldn't help the peace that the idea brought me. "It was worth it. Everyone sees him for what he is now."

    She sighed in frustration. "I've got an Indigo League Elite here, breathing down my neck. They're intervening, pulling anyone they can before Benga really starts purging Unova's ranks." She paused for a moment. "The Champion is on his way to you, just a few minutes out."

    I sighed as the incandescent form of a volcano bug appeared over the darkening horizon. "He is already here," I said. "I'm sorry, Elesa. I had to expose him for what he did… it was the only way."

    I lowered the phone. She was still yelling through the phone, but I lost the words. I looked up at Soulfire. "Be ready. We'll only get the one chance."

    My chandelure nodded at me and I turned my attention to the approaching fire.

    He swept across the wilderness north of Aspertia, his volcarona trailing a plume of flame. The forest beneath them burned, a wide path laying charred and smoking behind him. I'd worried about sharing the forest with the pokemon who inhabited it. I no longer had that worry.

    He hung in the air as he approached, looking down on me. The malevolent glow of his volcano bug cast sadistic shadows across his face. "I heard what you had to say," he half-shouted down to me. "I wasn't a fan."

    "All of Unova saw you for who you are today. Not just me."

    He descended, slipping off his pokemon's back as he fluttered to the ground. "They'll see what I-"

    We sprung the trap. Demeter was there, her haunted stump springing to life. A dozen spectral vines wrapped around the volcarona's wings as Malvus' sarcophagus swung open. Wrapping sprung from the ancient casket as infernal chanting grew louder.

    Benga swivelled about, turning to face me as Soulfire dropped down beside me. He reached for his belt as I gave my order.

    Soulfire erupted like a sun, bringing day back to the smouldering forest. Benga disappeared under the fire and I stepped back and flung an arm up to shield my face.

    I felt the earth rumble beneath me and knew that I had failed.

    The very ground underneath my home opened. I felt it tip backwards and leapt from the porch as the earth swallowed my house whole.

    Soulfire's angle of fire was cut off and the stream of flame died as well. He levitated from the pit that had swallowed my home, but it was too late. Benga stood unharmed, a dragonite and a garchomp towering over us both.

    "Well?" he asked. "Was that all?"

    Demeter was shrieking, fleeing as the volcarona laid waste to her garden. Malvus was gone, back into his casket. I'd never see him again, not unless I got my miracle. Only Soulfire was still here, hovering over my shoulder.

    "It was," I said. "You'll never win now. Unova knows what you did."

    "They know nothing," he hissed. "They will know what I-"

    "You showed them exactly what they needed to know. You are no Champion. You are nothing like what he was."

    He scowled, his face contorting in anger. "I told you I'd kill you," he said slowly. "I told you what that little act of insolence would get you. You did it anyways." He glanced back at his dragons. "Kill this-"

    A bolt of psychic light ripped over the treetops, driving Benga's garchomp into the earth. The dragonite bellowed and turned, but a fist wreathed in godly power pummelled the dragon into submission. The volcarona shrieked as fire surrounded it, but a flick of Mewtwo's wrist quenched the fire with a cold gust of psychic wind.

    A true Champion hovered over the treetops, Mewtwo's power holding the young man aloft. He floated down to the ground, his hand over the belt of balls on his waist. "It's over, Benga."

    Benga turned, scowling at the Indigo Champion. "Red," he said. "You've given Mewtwo some upgrades, it seems."

    Mewtwo flexed an arm built with powerful muscle. It was more monstrous than Rykker remembered the news reports from Indigo, like it had been hitting the gym relentlessly.

    "Surrender now, and I'll allow you to live." Red clenched his fist, preparing for a real fight. "Or fight, and I let Mewtwo do what he was created for."

    Benga looked cautiously between Red and Rykker. "You would risk open war? For him?"

    Red nodded. "Would war really be what you wanted?" He asked. "Your region lies in ruin, partly by your hand. Think about your people! Think about-"

    Benga shot forward, howling an order in a vain attempt to surprise Red. Mewtwo raised an arm and Benga sailed off over the forest. His screams echoed for a short moment, before the dragons launched themselves from the earth after their master.

    Red looked over at the former Champion, walking across the ruined garden. "We should go," he said. "He'll be back."

    "You should have killed him," I said. "He'll use this to draw up more support."

    The young man shot me a pained look. "I will not cause any more death," he said. "Benga has caused enough pain. It would not do to leave him as a martyr."

    He dropped his hand to his belt, releasing a large pidgeot that cawed to the sky. "We must hurry," he said. "We should get back to Kanto before he can launch a counterattack."

    "We?" I asked.

    Red shot me an impatient glare. "Indigo has no desire to watch Unova burn, not when she could stand strong…" he trailed off and I sensed that there was more. "We need to stand together, not tear each other down."

    I sighed. "Well you've bought yourself a war," I said. "Benga won't take this lying down."

    He shrugged. "If it comes down to it, he'll lose." He mounted his pidgeot and reached down toward me. "It's time to go," he said as the deafening roar of a pair of dragons echoed over the forest. "Before he comes back."

    I looked around at the ruins. I'd built the house as an escape from civilization. Now it was nothing but a monument to Unova's pain. I returned my pokemon to their balls and took his hand. "Why are you doing this?" I asked as I swung myself onto the bird's back behind him. "Why do you care?"

    Red turned his head and smiled at me. "Because something bigger than all of this is coming. And just maybe we'll need Unova to have a proper Champion before all is said and done."

    He dug his heels in and his pidgeot threw itself into the air. My gaze lingered on the sinkhole as we ascended into the sky. "Maybe," I said. "Maybe."
     
    The Champions: Epilogue
  • Joshthewriter

    Charizard Fan
    Location
    Toronto
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. charizard
    Indigo Plateau, Kan-Jo Citizen's Congress, Six Months Later


    I stood proudly, puffing my chest out. Benga could bluster and threaten all he wanted, but Indigo had my back.

    "Introducing, hailing from Unova, Jason Rykker!"

    The Congress erupted in cheers, lawmakers and press cheering on Red's pronouncement. I stepped forward, a cheesy grin plastered on my face. I'd forgotten what actual applause was like. I raised a fist, joining Red at the podium.

    "Jason Rykker will be taking the place of our fallen Elite, William Itzuki." He turned and took my hand, raising it in his own. "Give a warm welcome to Elite Jason Rykker!"

    I waved, taking my place at the podium as Red stepped back. Perhaps they had intended for me to take Benga's place as Unova's Champion once more. I didn't want that, not anymore. Indigo had taken me in. Indigo had welcomed me with open arms. I didn't need to go home. I was already there.
     
    A Second Chance
  • Joshthewriter

    Charizard Fan
    Location
    Toronto
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. charizard
    A Second Chance


    Ilex forest was old when I was young. She was a proud beauty, unbroken despite man's attempts to tame her. Here among the trees, amidst the wild call of nature, was a different kind of life. It's simpler place, a more peaceful place. It was my home, the place of my people. It was the only home I had ever known.

    Ilex forest was strong, her pious trunks standing strong and tall. Her canopy was thick, defying attempts to map her from above. Of course, that hadn't stopped the logging companies from trying anyways.

    They came as they always do, bearing fancy contracts full of words that simpler folks could never hope to fully understand. When we didn't leave, they came back with money. Most folks took that offer, selling the homes and land that our families had lived on as far back as we can remember. A few stayed, mostly old bats like myself. We're stubborn, and we remember what this forest means to the land.

    Without Ilex, Johto dies. Without Ilex, we all die. The forest protects our people, just as it protects our planet. I just wish that somebody else would help me protect it. Either way, I will do what I must. I am the last storyteller of my people, the last person who holds onto hundreds of years in oral history. I will protect my home.


    I woke before dawn on the day they came. I could hear them, driving along the worn dirt path that led into Arborville. Their mechanical monstrosities shook the earth as they closed, flattening and widening the winding forest path as they came.

    The trees along that path were old when I was a boy. I silently raged at the injustice as I sat on my balcony, watching and waiting while I boiled the kettle. I finished my last journal entry. I'd make my move when I got that chance.

    It wasn't long before they came into view, bright yellow machinery trawling through the forest on great tracks. Men in bright reflective vests rushed forward, the sounds of chainsaws roaring over the forest's quiet voice. A hulking machamp walked ahead of the great machine, clearing away the logs that had fallen in its path.

    I grimaced. The machamp was a problem. Terra could destroy the machines easily enough, but my aging meganium would have trouble with a machamp. I didn't have the rest of my pokemon anymore. They were all lost to time. I'd have to be clever to take out the massive fighting type.

    Towa appeared from the walkway deeper into Arborville. Every house in our village was connected, just like the forest itself. Towa was one of the few who remained, one of the few who still cared about the forest. There were so few of us left.

    "They're here to stay this time," she started. She sat down in the seat beside me, in Natasha's seat and not the guest seat. "Diana read me the last letter they sent. It said it was the final notice. We can't fight this one and win."

    "I don't care," I replied, letting my scowl fade. Towa meant no disrespect and I couldn't stay cross with one of the few remaining residents. "The forest is our home, it is my home. It has been for generations. I will not leave this place." I clenched my fists. She was wrong. Someone had to fight them.

    Towa sighed heavily as she leaned back in the chair. She sipped on her tea and looked at me pensively. "Y'know, you've been in a bad way since Tasha pass-"

    "Don't you dare. She loved this place more than any of us." I turned away and scowled back at the encroaching loggers. "Don't go putting words into a dead woman's mouth."

    "I wouldn't dare, old friend. I know she'd be fighting these bastards tooth and nail, right at your side." She sipped cautiously on her tea again. "My words are my own. Tasha's passing hurt you. More than you've ever been hurt before." She smiled softly. "Even more than when the boys disappeared."

    I stared at the machine, stonewalling her. "And your point?" I asked. I knew I was being rude. I was too wrapped up in myself and my defiance to care. "This place is all I have left of her. They… they can't… they're gonna take it away."

    "I lost Don almost fifteen years ago," she continued, unperturbed. Towa was good like that. It didn't matter that I was in a bad place. She was there for me all the same. "It was hell for a long time. I threw myself into my work."

    "Our harvest was never better," I remarked. "We sold the surplus and-"

    "You're doing the same damn thing," she said. "Arborville is dead. Stop clinging to old memories. Go enjoy what time you have left with your family. Your sister perhaps…"

    I clenched my fists, desperately trying not to lose my cool with Towa. "They moved on. They left this place behind. They don't care-"

    Towa cut me off with a stern glare and a heavy hand on my shoulder. "They don't help you because you won't let them. You cut them off for daring to leave home. Your brothers, your sister, everyone. They never stopped trying to help you." She rose from her seat and sighed heavily. "Diana is almost done packing up our things. I'll have her come by once she's done. I'm sure she'd love to help you pack."

    I sighed heavily and hung my head. "No," I said quietly. "I have something I have to do."

    She disappeared without another word. I glanced down the walkway, eyes painfully lingering on each of the hasty repairs I'd made over the years. She was right. Arborville was dying. The trees were struggling under the weight of the village, and even the hundreds of repairs I had made couldn't hide that.

    "Hello up there!" shouted a voice. "Is a Mister Jameson home?"

    I rose and leaned up against my balcony. "Leave my home," I started, summoning up the strength to project my voice. "This forest is not yours."

    A younger man slipped down off the massive machine, pokeballs worn on a bandolier that wrapped over one shoulder. He was a trainer, probably employed by the logging company to deal with stubborn old Arborville.

    He smiled up at me, a genuine smile that took me off-guard. "Would you mind if I came up there to speak with you?" He gestured around at the loggers. "It's quite loud out here, as you can see."

    I nodded slowly. Without another word, I returned to my seat. I heard the roar of machinery grind to a halt as the engine died. A small smirk came to my face. One last warning before they tried to drive me from my home. I would show them who they were dealing with.


    It was maybe another twenty minutes before Diana appeared with the trainer. He was tall, powerfully built. Broad across at the shoulders. He had a strong beard, flecked with grey hairs in the dark brown mane. More than a match for frail old me. I knew I'd need surprise on my side to take him down.

    "Mister Jameson, I presume?" He asked politely as Diana slipped away. "My name is Byram, I represent the Johtan Interior Resource Commission."

    He stepped through the doorway into my home, not bothering to knock. I looked up at him, sipping gently at my tea. "So the League is getting involved?" I asked calmly.

    "We were from the beginning, Mister Jameson. The League takes the stewardship of our natural resources very seriously." Byram looked down at Tasha's chair. "Do you mind if I sit?"

    "I do." I growled.

    He sighed, studying my stoic old gaze. "Very well." He crossed his arms. "You have to leave, Mister Jameson. This place isn't safe anymore."

    I sipped my tea. "I keep it standing," I said. "Arborville ain't moving. And neither am I."

    "That's going to be a problem," he replied. "Because this area has been designated as a prime logging area. Plenty of perfect trees to use as lumber." He lowered his gaze to me. "I'm sure you understand the current lumber shortage has made our need dire."

    I rolled my eyes. "You mean, you think the old trees in this area will fetch a pretty price right now."

    He shrugged. "Ilex Forest is massive," he started. "We've been stonewalled around Azalea and Johto National Park. We need wood, Mister Jameson. I'm sorry that it includes your village, but to be honest it's falling apart anyways. This place isn't fit for human habitation anymore."

    "I keep her standing," I spat. I placed my tea safely on the table beside me and rose to my feet. "You need to leave my home."

    He sighed and shook his head. "Everyone else has agreed to leave. It's only you left."

    I closed my eyes, trying to control my breathing. "You need to leave my home."

    He turned to leave and sighed. "You have until the end of the day," he said calmly. "After that, the loggers have to keep going." He stepped out of my home and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "For now, they'll get started around here." He lit the cigarette and walked away.

    I let him go without following. I had something else I needed to do. More than ever, I needed help. I needed the voice of the forest. I needed Ilex's guardian spirit. I was out of time. I needed a Celebi.


    My tired old feet trudged the weathered stone path, finding the well-worn footprints that I had worn into the stones over the years. Not once had I fallen. Not once had I so much as faltered on my way up to the old shrine at the lake.

    But I was not the young man I had once been. Time had ravaged my life, reduced my once young and powerful physique to a frail shell. Most of my friends had passed or left Arborville years ago, joined almost a year ago by my dearly beloved. Even my pokemon had begun to succumb to father time's inevitable pull. Only Terra was left, and the aging meganium was not what she had once been.

    Still, I climbed. I had made the climb up to the old lake for decades, leaving Arborville's offerings to the guardian at the shrine that stood on the small islet on the lake. I would not fail to make the climb one last time for one last offering. The guardian was my last hope, and my last offering would hopefully be enough to gain its attention.

    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.

    I heard the laugh again and hunkered down on the side of the trail when the chainsaw roared again, abandoning my sack of offerings. My hand hovered over Terra's ball, waiting for any sign of danger. I waited a long time, but none came. The voices faded and the chainsaws moved further and further away. I carefully got to my feet, watching for any signs of movement through the forest.

    I decided that I could wait no longer. I scooped up my sack and slung it back over my shoulder. I didn't look back. I was out of time, but that could be fixed if she was willing.


    I ran as far as I could, my old bones aching with every footfall. I ran until my lungs might burst and my back might break. I ran until my feet could carry me no further and then continued further.

    Finally, when my feet were sore and blistered and my lungs could heave no more, I broke through the dense forest and splashed into the shallows of the lake. The guardian's shrine stood benevolent, watching over me like a statue.

    I fell to my knees, the sores on my feet knitting shut and my burning lungs breathing deep with relief. This was the secret that Arborville had been founded to protect, the treasure that our ancestors had sworn to defend. I bathed myself in the healing waters of the lake, letting the pure water wash my bloody feet clean of sores.

    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 turned to the berry bush growing at the shore. I picked a handful of the small red berries and popped several into my mouth. The sweet fruit of the lake practically melted in my mouth, and the memories of sweet evening walks with my Natasha came back to my mind.

    I hefted the sack and waded the rest of the way to the small island in the shallows of the lake. The small wooden hut sat silently, the doors shut as they always were. I pulled them open, smiling at the simple wooden carving as I always did. The little fey smiled back at me, huge oval eyes gazing into my soul.

    "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.. "I only ask that you stop these loggers before they go too far. They threaten the lake itself. The lake gives this forest life, it gives Ilex her strength. Ilex must stand else Johto will wither on the vine. It must be protected." I looked at the carving of the fey, unsure of what more to say.

    I got to my feet and spilled my sack of offerings into the shrine. Vegetables from Towa's garden went rolling, spoils from Darrick's last hunt landed in the shrine, an embroidered blanket that Towa and Diana had made landed on top. My last few cans of preserved food landed among the offerings and I slung the empty sack over my shoulder.

    I closed the doors of the shrine and closed my eyes. "Please, spirit. This is all we have left. Please save our forest. Please save this lake." I placed a hand on the shrine, praying that the forest spirit would hear me. "Please, Ilex needs you…"

    I paused, wrestling with my faith in a guardian that had not once made itself known to me. I'd believed on blind faith, on old stories that my father had told me. It was a long time until I found the strength to move. I looked up at the shrine and cleared my throat. "Please, Celebi…" my voice trailed off and died for a moment. "I need you," I said with desperate reverence. "My story is about to end. My people's story will end with it. I am alone… I cannot protect this place without your help."

    I turned and waded back to shore, leaving the shrine behind. I picked another handful of the sweet berries as I left, ready to begin my long walk home.


    True to Byram's word, Arborville was still standing. But the trees around her were gone. Arborville had been located on the side of a small slope that led down towards the river that emptied from the sacred lake. The small hill was bare, stumps the only clue that the hill had been deep forest. Arborville stood implacably, the rickety old village standing strong on the few remaining trees.

    I slipped up the ladder into the village. All was quiet save for the creaking of wood straining under my weight. Towa's hut was cold and dark and I knew that she and Diana had gone. I was alone now. Alone in a cold, dead village.

    I crept through Arborville, careful with every step. The removal of most of the trees on the hill had robbed the trees our village was built upon of precious support. She was dead, creaking to a collapse upon aging bones. I couldn't help but chuckle at the similarity to myself.

    I stepped into my home, looking out my grand window at what had once been lush forest. The trees were gone, reduced to stumps, and the yellow light of the evening sun painted the scene in a harsher red light than I had ever seen.

    "Mister Jameson, it's not safe up there!" Byram shouted. He jogged up through the stumps, his hands cupped over his mouth. "It's not stable anymore!"

    Arborville shifted precariously as if on cue and groaned as the trees strained desperately. I knew that the old village had reached her end. She was stumbling to her death now. Falling down under her own weight, or rather mine.

    "What have you done?" I roared. I braced myself against the wall, leaning out at him and shaking my fist in anger. "You have destroyed my home!"

    A loud crack ripped through the village and splinters of wood spun through the air as support beams snapped. My house dropped several feet, catching upon the large branch beneath it and lurching dangerously. The tree groaned and my house tilted to the side as the branch bowed.

    I stumbled and fell back, my home tipping dangerously to the side. I hit the thin wall of my home and grabbed tight to the support beam. My home dropped again and more of Arborville slipped from its supports. Half the village crashed down, crashing through the roof of my home. Towa's hut crushed mine and Tasha's chairs, before Darrick's hut crashed through on top of it.

    Another earthshaking crack jolted my house as the branch supporting me finally snapped. It pitched backward and I saw the whole of Arborville shaking free of her aging bones through the destroyed ceiling.

    I watched my village strain to hold, my makeshift repairs holding the rickety walkways and creaking shacks up for a half a moment. Then they broke with a terrible groan and pop of snapping wood. I felt my stomach drop as my home fell from the tree, the ground rushing up to meet me.

    Time ground to a halt. I fell slower and slower, nearly suspended in the air. Arborville slowed down, until the village hung almost motionless in the air above me.

    'Bowen,' said a calm voice. I strained my ears, but I knew that the voice had not been spoken. 'The forest speaks for you. It has called me here in your time of need.'

    I felt a gentle touch on the back of my calf. Time grabbed hold of me again and I suddenly slammed down onto the motionless wall of my home. I rolled onto my back, looking down my old hooked nose at the little fey staring at me.

    It was uncannily similar to the wooden carving in the shrine, pale, oval eyes meeting mine. 'I have come, as you have asked. What do you request of me?'

    "Stop these loggers," I said, reverence deep in my mind. I bowed my head in awestruck respect. "They threaten the sacred lake. They devour the forest with their machines. My home and my people are gone, and they will soon find your shrine."

    The little fey stared into my eyes. I felt an overwhelming calmness overcome me and an odd sensation that my mind was no longer alone. A musical presence surrounded me, pushing against my thoughts and brushing them away with ease. It pressed and confined me, trapping me in a small corner of my mind.

    I felt strange, my ability to concentrate all but gone. Arborville righted herself, my home simply returning to existence as we floated back up into the tree. I looked closer as the village seemed to age backwards before my eyes. Cracked, rotten wood became strong again, support beams disappeared as the trees became younger again and could support Arborville once more.

    My home was remade, returned to her glory days by some awesome power. The little fey levitated off the floor, glowing with psychic energy. Something seized me, lifting me off the ground. I felt a strange sensation as the strength began to flow in my limbs once more.

    My creaking bones stiffened, sagging skin became tight over finely toned muscles. My hair grew back, braiding long and thick down my back like it had been in my youth. I was young again, moved through time by the awesome power of the forest spirit. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time.

    'Come with me,' the fey said. 'We must fix this. Your stewardship of the lake has put it at risk. Loggers cannot be allowed to desecrate my home.' It lifted off the ground and moved towards the door. 'You cannot do this alone.'

    I tightened my fists. "Do you not think I tried? I lost my sons, and none of the others care to remain. I am the last of our tribe, the last protector of the lake. Do not disrespect my devotion, spirit. The world was not kind to me."

    The little fey turned back to me. Its gaze was cold and calculating, like its was studying my entire life in a flash. 'I have seen your whole life. Every moment, every decision is but a glance through time.' It narrowed its large oval eyes and floated closer to me ominously. 'We must fix your error.'

    I relaxed my fists. I was struck with shame. The creature knew something, some terrible truth about my life that I could not even fathom. "What have I done wrong, spirit?"

    Impossibly familiar laughter filled the air. The joyous exclamations of happy children sprinted past my home. I could hear the happy grunting of Terra as the bayleef bounded after my twins, a squealing baby Diana strapped to her back. The chorus of laughs chilled me to the bone. I knew what day it was. I knew what would happen later in the day.

    "Why have you brought me here?" I growled. I did not want to relive this day, this terrible of all terrible days.

    'To fix your mistake. You are alone because of your failure.' the fey intoned, overt annoyance creeping into its voice. 'You would do well to hurry. You do not have much time.'

    I stared at the Celebi, intently studying the mystical pokemon. It was fickle, as all the stories said they were. "Can I change it?" I asked. "Can I save them?"

    The stories were never clear. Sometimes the forest spirit allowed changes to be made, small differences that did not disrupt the proper flow of time. Others, the fey held firm, demanding that great tragedies remain and only small changes around the edges be made.

    The fey did not answer. It just gazed at me, awful oval eyes staring deeply into my own. I turned and ran, determined to change what had happened to my children. I had to stop their disappearance. That had to be the reason I had been brought back.

    I stepped out of my home, holding up an arm to shield my eyes from the sun. I thought I saw Terra's leaf disappear down one of the walkways and I dashed after the young bayleef.

    Arborville was young again, full of life and movement. Towa and Donald walked arm in arm, joined in happy bliss. Their home, carved freshly from a tree the season before, stood proud and happy behind them.

    "Boys!" I shouted as I ran. "Daniel, Thomas!"

    The twins did not come. I came to a halt in the middle of the walkway, wracking my brain for any clues from that terrible day. They'd disappeared into the forest around mid-day. Tasha had been at home the whole day, and I had been out foraging until almost sunset.

    I stopped as a stunning realization came over me. Tasha was at home. My Tasha was dead, passed on from old age. But Tasha was here and I could see her once more. I could hear her voice again, smell the sweet scent of flower petals soft in her hair.

    I turned back towards home. I could see her in the window, smiling at the summer breeze. Her silky brown hair flew in the wind, obscuring her face for a half-moment. She spotted me and her face lit up with joy and life.

    I was drawn back to my home, tracing the path I had run through the walkways. Every step felt wrong, like something was in my mind, screaming for me to go. I could not tear myself from my path, could not turn away from my beloved.

    I stepped through the door, caution in my heart. "Natasha?"

    "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.

    I relaxed again. I was scaring Tasha now. "Diana will be fine," I started. "Terra will be fine," I recounted, remembering how we'd found the bayleef trapped under some branches less than a half mile from the village. "The boys will be fine." I refused to let my voice waver. I would find them and keep them safe.

    I turned to leave but found myself rooted to the spot. Tasha's beautiful brown eyes were flecked with lines of red and gold that shone in the afternoon sunlight. "Tasha…" I started, but my voice died in my throat. There was so much I wanted to say, so much that I had never said to her when she was still with me.

    She held my gaze, concern and fear etched into her soft features. "I know you'll find them," she said, her voice wobbly. "I love you, Bowen."

    I nearly broke at my name, my chest constricting as I tried and failed to breathe in. I had not heard her say my name in nearly an entire year. It was intoxicating, intolerably holding me on the spot. This day had weighed heavily on my dear Tasha. "I will find them. By my love for you, I swear that I will find them." I turned away, forcing away the tears that threatened at the edges of my eyes. "If it is the last thing I do, I will find them."

    "You're scaring me, darling."

    I clenched my fists, my heart dying at those words. I wanted to take that pain, cut it out at the source. "Don't be afraid," I replied, choking out the words. They hurt, like they were a desperate lie to the last person I wanted to lie to. But she didn't deserve the pain of the truth. "I'll keep them safe."


    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.

    So I went to the only place I could. The only place where I knew the trail might still be warm. The only clue of the direction they might have gone.

    The thicket of trees was far less ominous than it had appeared to me at night. With warm sunlight beaming down through the trees, I breathed a sigh of relief. Terra was here, trapped inside the thicket with Diana still strapped to her back.

    I tore a section of tangled branches away and forced my way into the small space that Terra had been trapped in. Without a word, I pulled Diana off my bayleef and held her close to my chest. "You're safe now, little one. Uncle Bowen is here."

    She squealed adorably and tugged sharply on my beard. My eyes watered, but I couldn't help the goofy grin on my face. Diana had been wailing miserably when I'd found her the last time and she'd caught a terrible fever that refused to break for nearly an entire week. As far as I could tell, things were already better than they had been the first time.

    I slipped Diana's harness off of Terra and pulled it over my arms. It wasn't meant for a human, but I could tie it tight enough at least to support Diana's weight. With the baby safely secured to my chest, I cleared a large enough space for my bayleef to crawl through. Terra wormed her way through the opening behind me, cooing and grunting excitedly at me.

    Terra nuzzled her nose against me. I smiled and patted her happily on the back of her head.

    "Lead the way," I said. "Find me the boys."

    Terra put her nose to the ground, sniffing intently. She looked up at me and I saw the determination in her face. She had the scent. She would lead me to my boys.


    We forged through the forest and along a familiar footpath. I knew where we were going, I had been down this path more times than I cared to count. The lake lay at the end of the path, shrouded in a late evening mist.

    I had always suspected that they had gone to the lake, exploring in places where I had forbidden them go alone. I hadn't trusted them with knowledge of the lake yet. Ilex was dangerous, and I knew that they had never truly believed me.

    I ran on legs that throbbed with every step. My back ached with each impact and my chest burned with every breath. I was hot on a trail that must have been washed away by the torrential rains that had started to fall at sunset. However, I was running out of time.

    The sun was dipping closer towards the horizon, and the ominous clouds were gathering as the storm pushed inland from the sea. I ran faster, my every fibre of my being begging me to stop running and rest. My weak willed self nearly gave in, but the fading memory of my my sons' faces lent me resolve.

    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.

    My heart leapt into my throat. I poured on what speed I had left and burst down the path. I broke through the tree line and onto the small beach in full sprint, covering the distance between myself and the ursaring in only a few powerful strides.

    I didn't stop to think about my suicidal charge, nor the baby strapped to my chest. I didn't stop to formulate a plan. I caught a glance of my boys, half shrouded in the shadow of the massive pokemon. I had to save them. The ursaring reared back on its hind legs and I saw a flash of claws as it raised a paw.

    I leapt with everything I had, vaulting myself onto the slick back of the furious ursaring as Diana shrieked. My lead arm hooked around the pokemon's head and my momentum dragged the unsuspecting pokemon down to the ground with me.

    I rolled away with my arms wrapped tightly around Diana before the ursaring could gut me with his claws, putting myself in between my boys and the pokemon. I spread my stance, standing wide and tall in an effort to make myself as large as possible. With slow, deliberate movements, I unstrapped Diana and carefully handed the baby off to my twins without so much as a word.

    There were stories among our tribe, stories of boastful warriors bragging that they could wrestle with an ursaring. They were usually little more than cautionary tales that ended in tragedy as the boastful warrior fell to the ursaring, but there was one that resonated in my racing mind.

    A brave wood carver, a father whose name is lost to time, had stood between an ursaring and his children when they ventured too far from the village. He stood against the pokemon with nothing but his wits and the strength of his own body. He protected his family with sheer force of will. He fell in battle with the beast, but the tribe survived thanks to his bravery.

    I had a lot more than just my will behind me. I had Terra. I had the strength of my youth. And I had the hand of a powerful forest spirit on my side. I would not lose. I would save my family.

    The ursaring lumbered back to her feet as she shook the rain from her face, growling in primal fury. The guttural growl of the beast sent a shiver down my spine, but I stood tall. I grabbed up a fallen branch from the muddy ground and held it like a club. I saw the terrified teddiursa cub retreating behind his mother and prayed that the ursaring would be satisfied for both of us to escape with our families intact.

    I had no such luck. In a split second, the mother ursaring was on me. I swung the branch as she swiped at me with a massive paw, snapping the branch in half on the side of the pokemon's head. She stared at me dumbstruck for a moment, as if in disbelief that I had actually fought back.

    Terra was there before the ursaring could regain her senses. My brave bayleef, loyal to a fault, slammed into the ursaring's side. She thrashed at the larger pokemon with furious vines, battering it and forcing it off balance. The advantage lasted only a moment though, and Terra's momentum ground to a halt as the ursaring planted her hind feet in the mud and stood firm.

    I threw myself into the pokemon's left leg, driving a heel into the back of the ursaring's knee and buckling the joint. Terra shoved again with all her might, even as the ursaring dug five inch long claws into her bloody flanks.

    The ursaring bellowed in frustration and surprise as Terra toppled her over backwards. She tipped over her buckled knee, trapping and crushing my ankle in a vice grip. I swore in agony as I went down, beating on the ursaring's side with my fists as I felt my bones splinter and snap.

    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 screamed and shouted desperately as the ursaring moved and released the pressure on my ankle. I dropped back, panting in quick ragged breaths. I felt my chest aching as blood steadily leaked down my bare chest.

    She loomed over me, looking down at me as I hauled myself up, managing to balance all my weight on my good leg. I hobbled in front of the boys, standing as tall as I could manage while the rain drenched me down to my core. I felt cold and weak, but Terra was there to prop me up while she growled protectively at the ursaring.

    The mother ursaring reared back on her hind legs again, but this time there was no hostile urgency of movement. She sniffed cautiously at me, looking back behind me at the boys and sniffing in the air.

    We stood there, Terra and I practically daring the ursaring to try again. She mirrored us, her cub stealing peeks at us from the tree line. We looked at each other for a long time, matriarch to patriarch. I felt an acknowledgment from the beast, her black eyes met mine and I felt an intelligence behind them. She bowed her head slightly in respect, and I did the same.

    Without so much as a backwards glance, the ursaring turned and lumbered off, her cub playfully jumping onto his mother's back as if he were pouncing on prey.

    I watched them go, standing still and silent as I respectfully waited for the matriarch to take her leave. Only when she had disappeared into the trees and the sounds of her making her way through the soaked forest faded away did I dare to relax.

    It took me a moment, but the next breath brought burning, searing pain to my chest. I gingerly poked at the ragged strips of bloody flesh hanging from my chest, struggling desperately to draw in a breath.

    I turned and looked at the boys, my heart in my throat. I had no clue what to say, what to tell them. It would be a disservice to lie, and pretend that I was their true father, so I would do the only thing I could. I would tell them the story. My story. A future that would no longer exist because of what I had done today. I might die, but my story would live on through them. Perhaps this time's version of me could learn something.

    I hobbled into the shallows of the lake, my ankle burning as it attempted to heal. The shards of bone inside my ankle were too far gone though, and they refused to do much more than ache something fierce. I sat unceremoniously in the shallows, my boys taking up spots on each side of me. The water lapped at my chest, barely even dulling the pain. The skin refused to knit shut, and I knew that my time was up.

    I looked up at the clouds, holding a hand up to feel the rain. The storm was loud, almost overpoweringly so, but I spoke loud enough to be heard. "Something terrible could have happened today." I paused for a long moment as I caught my breath and the boys stayed silent. "And once upon a time it did." I smiled softly and looked over at the small shrine on the island. I had been a poor teacher, a poor storyteller indeed. "Help me over to the shrine boys," I started. "It's time that you learned something."

    Thomas took my left side, supporting my mangled ankle with Terra's help. Daniel held my right arm while he carried Diana, leading me clear of any underwater branches or rocks. Both of them were ragged messes, their hair tangled with dirt and twigs and matted down against their heads by the rain. I smiled despite the pain, my heart fluttering in my chest. They were safe. I was dying, but they were safe.

    Terra helped me out of the water, Daniel maneuvering her so that I could easily lean against the side of the shrine. They helped me against the side of the shrine and then sat close at my sides.

    Daniel on my left studied my face, with bright and inquisitive eyes. He eyed the shrine warily and I could see the questions dancing on the top of his tongue.

    "This shrine is a holy place for our people," I started. I had to start somewhere, and the beginning of our people's story was as good a place as any. "Here, we met with the Voice of the Forest, and entered into a compact."

    My eyes met curious, inquisitive eyes and I knew that I had them hooked. They knew the stories, knew the legends that I had imparted upon them. To live them yourself, was something else entirely. They could tell that something strange was happening, some strange power was afoot.

    I felt the twins draw closer to me and smirked softly despite the pain. It was peaceful, some small measure of happiness here at the end of my life. "I did not understand what this covenant entailed until I had failed it utterly."

    Daniel looked up at me, huddling Diana close to me for warmth. "Father, is something wrong? You seem different."

    I met his eyes and felt my own begin to water. "I was not a good father," I began. "I pushed away my responsibility to the next generation, to my own children and in doing so lost you. I did not prepare you for the world, just lamented a world that changed around me." I wiped away my forming tears, trying to pass them off as the rain on my face. "Don't let me shirk my duty to you boys. Demand that I be better," I said with solemn duty. "Our family faltered and crumbled once before because I didn't save you on this terrible night. It will not happen again, but it's up to you two to carry on once I have passed." I hung my head in shame. "I cannot say that I have been a good father to this point. Know though, that I love you boys both. Take care of each other, and your mother too."

    Thomas looked at me with eyes that threatened to fill with tears. His gaze fell to my shredded chest and the tears fell freely. "I don't understand," he half-cried.

    I lifted his chin, strength fading. The lake could work miracles, but even its power had limits. I had precious little time left. "Let me tell you a story, my sons." I looked over at Daniel, pulling my other son closer to me. "About a future that could have been, but will not be. About a man who failed in his duty to his family, but was gifted one last chance to set things right."

    "Father?" Daniel asked, his voice wavering. He inches closer to me, Diana cooing happily in his arms. "What is happening?"

    I reached out to him. My arm was frail, weak in old age. My long braided hair was gone, lost to the ravages of time. I was old again. The Celebi's power was fading. "I am dying, child. Now hush, and let an old man tell you one last story."


    I ran harder and faster than I had ever run before. My legs were aching, my lungs burning. My arms and legs were covered with scratches and cuts, but I could not stop. I ran along the muddy footpath, body pushed long past the point of utter exhaustion. I couldn't stop, I had to find the boys.

    The clouds were beginning to clear now, and I could see the moonlight reflecting off the still surface of the lake. I splashed into the shallows, letting the sacred water wash me clean of a multitude of miniscule wounds.

    I rose, a stirring motion from a figure leaning against the shrine drawing my eye. I removed the bow from my back and tied the string taut. I carefully nocked a single arrow and crept across the shallows of the lake as quietly as I could.

    Twin figures rose from the side of the shrine, letting a third lean back against the wall of the shrine. I swore and abandoned my bow as my boys came splashing into the shallows at me. I caught Thomas in a crushing mid-air hug as the boy leapt up into my arms. Daniel hit me in the midsection, sending me toppling over into the water with my boys.

    I broke the surface of the water, tears running freely down my face. I sat up, pulling my twins closer and ruffling the now soaked mops of dark brown hair on their heads.

    "I found you," I started, my voice breaking as I forced words out of my ragged throat. "I found you," I repeated.

    Daniel pulled back, smiling up at me. "Yes, you did." He let go of me and looked back at the shrine. "He wants to talk to you," he said quietly. My son looked as though he might cry, the words nervously dying on his tongue.

    "Who wants to speak to me?" I asked cautiously.

    Thomas looked up at me, a knowing look on his face. "You do," he replied cryptically.

    I looked over at the figure slumped against the shrine. "Stay here," I ordered.

    The boys stood side by side, knee deep in the waters of the sacred lake. I stepped onto the islet, cautiously looking down at the figure slumped in the dirt.

    Terra raised her head, blinking sleepily at me. A bundle of blankets shifted and I breathed a second sigh of relief as Diana whined at the interruption of her peaceful slumber.

    "You got here faster than I did the first time," growled a hoarse voice. The figure on the ground grunted and forced himself up against the shrine. "Still wouldn't have been fast enough."

    "Excuse me?" I asked in strained confusion.

    "And what were you doing?" he continued, unperturbed. "Sitting around watching some forestry workers prune dead branches?"

    I crossed my arms. "I was doing no such thing!" I spat indignantly. "I was-"

    He cut me off with a withering glare. "I would know," he said with open derision. "I was there after all."

    I stepped back, studying his weathered face. "You are me," I said, realization dawning on me. I looked down at the old man and saw the gaping wound in his chest. "What happened?" I asked cautiously. "Are you real?"

    "I am," he coughed. "Or I was." He shrugged, coughing up a glob of blood that dribbled down into his grey beard. "That hardly matters anymore. Nothing that happened matters anymore." He looked up at me with a satisfied grin. "That's the point, I think."

    I glanced over at my boys. They were standing dutifully in the shallows, not an inch from where I had left them. "You made a mistake?" I asked cautiously.

    He forced himself up higher, grunting in pain. "We both did. And I lived the consequences."

    I studied him carefully. "What do I do?" I asked. He was me, a future me. A possible future me that had averted his own future to save mine. "How do I do better?"

    The older me seemed to be seized with a sudden fit of coughing. He leaned precariously to the side, clutching at his chest. He hacked and coughed, but no more words were coming. Only blood.

    I knelt down in front of him, solemn respect filling my mind. I reached out and took a wrinkled and sagging hand in my own. The coughing subsided for a moment, and he looked at me with tired resignation. "I know that we never wanted the responsibility of children. I know that we saw it as a duty to be fulfilled while we toiled away to preserve the future of the tribe."

    He tightened his grip and his hard stare seemed to bore down into the very essence of my being. "Never have I regretted anything more. Your father treated you like a duty, not a child. I did the same." He pulled me in with a sharp jerk of his arm, bringing my face mere inches from his. "Don't become your father," he whispered. "Be theirs."

    He looked at me for a long moment, his breaths growing more shallow and ragged by the moment. He held my gaze like that, forcing me to watch as his breathing finally slowed and stopped.

    I let go of the dead man's hand as the sun finally rose. Dawn hit us and the sunlight glittered on the surface of the lake.

    I turned away from the old man, looking back at my boys. Daniel had picked up Diana and was cradling her in the crook of his elbow. Thomas was sitting patiently in the shallow water, stacking small rocks in a pyramid.

    "Boys," I said, my voice hoarse. I had been running most of the night. I had no clue how I was even awake, let alone filled with determined purpose. "Walk with me. We have a lot to talk about."
     
    The Visitors
  • Joshthewriter

    Charizard Fan
    Location
    Toronto
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. charizard
    "Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying." - Arthur C. Clarke


    Mount Hokulani Observatory, Ula'ula Island, Alola

    The observatory had always held such unimaginable wonder for him. Ever since the first day his cousin had brought him into the facility, Sophocles had hardly gone a day without visiting. There were even nights where he'd lost track of time and had to ask Big Mo to call his parents for him so he could stay over. Those were his favourite, nights where he would stay up all night charting the constellations with his big cousin. But not once had he seen quite so many people stuffed into the observatory at the same time.

    They were all packed into the main observation room, poring over the screens. Every single one of them showed the same thing, a looping video of the green streak that had lit up the night's sky and the shining green aurora it had left behind. The adults kept using big words that he didn't understand yet, but the worried look on Big Mo's face told him that something terribly exciting had happened.

    Sophocles elbowed his way through the crowd, a trick that he'd learned to get through big crowds at father's big tourist conferences. A few of the adults yelped and looked down in shock, but none of them said anything when they realized he was just a kid. He shoved his way through, finding Big Mo's blue jacket and tugging on the hem.

    "Not now, Soffy," his cousin said in an annoyed tone. He turned, brushing Sophocles off of his jacket with his free arm. "I'm on the phone with professor Cosmo in Hoenn." He looked back up at the screen, lifting the phone back up to his face. "The meteorite looks like it came down near the antarctic after it passed right over us. I'll contact Mossdeep and see if we can't get one of their orbital spectrometers over the-"

    Molayne's expression of wonder died and Sophocles watched a spiteful frown replace it. "What do you mean, you'll be appropriating my work?"

    There was a long pause, where the only noise came from the other onlookers in the room. Sophocles looked back up at the screen, studying the short video as Big Mo's expression soured. There was something there, a small shape visible in the flash of green for a fraction of a moment.

    "Might I remind you, professor Cosmo, that our partnership is exactly that." Molayne's voice was rising, something that Sophocles had only heard when he nearly smashed his cousin's homemade telescope when he was only five. "You are not entitled to exclusive possession of our data, no matter how much money you offer."

    Sophocles reached up for the screen controls. He paused it, inching forward frame by frame. A few of the adults were shouting about the shape now, yelling for the screen to show a better look.

    Molayne swore loudly, pitching his phone across the room. He looked down at his cousin, raising an eyebrow as the boy pointed excitedly up at the screen. He followed his cousin's finger up the the screen, his jaw dropping as his heart skipped several beats.

    There on the screen, outlined clearly by the flash of pale green light, was the unmistakable outline of a humanoid figure.

    The room was dead silent. Molayne couldn't help but stare in awe at living proof of an extraterrestrial. He glanced down at his cousin, a wide grin of wonder spreading across his face. "Soffy," he started gently. "I think you just made the discovery of a lifetime."

    Sophocles looked up at the screen, cracking a grin wide enough to be seen from space. "You mean I'm a scientist like you?" the boy asked.

    Big Mo shook his head, dropping down onto one knee. "No," he replied. "Even better than me." He beamed down at his cousin, proud of the discovery he had made.


    Camp Russell, LaRousse Science Expedition, Antarctica

    "Professor Lund!" shouted a snowsuit clad man. He trampled through the blowing snow, one arm held aloft to shield his face. "We've found the visitor." He sighed angrily. "It keeps burning out our equipment with its presence. I'm not sure how long we can keep up before we need to resupply."

    Professor Rondo Lund turned, grimacing as a particularly strong gust of wind whipped a million tiny pellets of ice up into a vicious spray. "Get it into containment as soon as the truck gets here. That would be the EM radiation killing our equipment," he shouted over the wind. "I want the specimen intact and ready for analysis by the end of the week." He threw up an arm to shield his face from the blowing ice. "The world is watching us. Ever since that damn picture leaked out of Alola, we've had no end of uproar. It is up to us to learn whether that furor is earned or not."

    "Yes sir!" replied the worker "Nanite construction should be done by the end of the day. You sure they'll hold up on the cold?"

    Doctor Lund nodded. "I designed these particular nanites myself. They'll hold up to the cold. I'm more worried about the radiation, but I've shielded them as well as I can."

    The worker nodded. "We'll get it done, professor." He turned to leave, nearly bowling over the bundled up child excitedly bounding through the snow.

    "Daddy, daddy, daddy!" blabbered the boy. "I found a buncha pokemon! Come see with me!"

    The professor got down on one knee, grunting with the awkwardness of his bulky snowsuit. "Daddy's busy right now, Tory. Where's Yuko?"

    The boy pulled his oversized toque back, looking up at his father with bright blue eyes. "She's somewhere else," Tory said. "I was with all the pokemon."

    Professor Lund sighed heavily. "I'll help you find her, but daddy can't play right now. I'm busy working on something very important. The whole world is watching me, Tory." He stood up, holding his hand out for his boy.

    "I wish I had a pokemon, daddy," Tory said with innocent happiness in his voice. "Then I could change the world!" He took his father's hand, wading back through the snow towards the snow drift that he'd clambered over.

    "You will," said his father. "I'll buy you any pokemon you'd like once you earn your trainer's license." He smirked. "Maybe even that rare one you were looking at, if you're good."

    "You'll buy me a munchlax?" Tory burst out.

    They crested the top of the snow drift and looked down at an endless sea of pokemon. The ice shelf was alive with movement, the cries of the wild pokemon echoing loudly over the flats. The blowing snow served to dampen the sound somewhat, but nothing could drown it out completely. Herds of titanic walrein watched over the younger sealeo and baby spheal. The large pokemon watched dutifully from the edge of the ice, huddling together from the wind.

    "There's Yuko!" Tory shouted, pointing at the snowsuit clad figure picking her way through the herd. "She found all my pokemon!"

    Professor Lund sighed heavily, leading Tory back towards his assistant. "Why did you wander away from her?" he asked. "She's looking after you while daddy is busy."

    Tory looked up at him again with those bright blue eyes. "I wanted you to see the pokemon. Aren't they amazing?"

    "They are," he replied. "But they aren't why we're down here in the snow. Daddy is here for something very important and I don't have time to play."

    Tory nodded, looking away from his father. His expression hardened and he put on his serious voice. "I know, I know."

    Yuko tramped towards them, holding up one arm. She waved to Tory, smiling widely as she approached. "There you are, Tory! Did you go find your daddy?"

    Professor Lund's expression soured as he handed his child off to his assistant. "Please try to be more vigilant, miss Yuko. We can't have Tory wandering off alone. It could be dangerous out here."

    She bowed her head apologetically. "Sorry, doctor Lund. It won't happen again."

    "I know it won't," he said. "I'll be in the camp if there's anything urgent. Try not to bother me unless it's an emergency." He turned away, trampling through the blowing snow and fighting every step.

    Tory slipped his hand into miss Yuko's. His disappointment was written clear as day on his face. "I wish daddy could come play with us. He never gets to have fun anymore."

    Miss Yuko dropped down to one knee. "You know he loves you very much. He's just busy. This is an important expedition. This is the way things are, Tory.m."

    "I wish they could be different," Tory said quietly.

    Miss Yuko smiled. "Me too, kid. Me too." She held out her hand again, taking Tory's hand in her own. "Wanna go make some snowballs and pretend we're famous pokemon trainers?"

    Tory's eyes lit up with excitement. "I'll be Champion Stone!"

    "And I'll be the gorgeous Miss Phoebe, challenging you for your throne!"

    Tory knelt down, packing a handful of snow down into a lumpy ball. He stood back up and his jaw dropped. The sky was lit a brilliant green, wavy auroras of emerald light stretching as far as the eye could see. He was vaguely aware of miss Yuko gaping up at the sky beside him, but couldn't bring himself to look away. All he could look at were the lights and try as he might, he couldn't tear himself away from their undulating patterns.


    Mossdeep Space Centre, Mossdeep City, Hoenn

    Whatever the visitor was, it had ceased to be when it had crashed into the ice. The expedition had only managed to locate what was left of it by the powerful waves of EM radiation streaming off the thing. The crater it had made when it crashed was already completely covered in snow and it had taken the expedition's pair of machoke nearly two whole weeks to dig it free. In the end, all they'd managed to extract was a block of ice with a glowing green gem in the middle. There were signs of organic material encased in the ice around the gem, but it evidently hadn't survived the entry into atmosphere.

    Whatever it was, it wasn't from this world. It was clear to Commander Jackson that they were dealing with something beyond any of their understanding, and they had half the department heads of Hoenn's space program on the call. There were more experts that he didn't recognize, but doctor Parker from the xenobiology department assured him that they were well qualified.

    Doctor Lund had his researchers gathered around the makeshift containment room. They'd erected a research facility at the South Pole remarkably fast, surprising everyone with the speed and efficiency of their efforts. Jackson supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised. LaRousse City was a technological marvel, with doctor Lund's innovative nanobots enabling things that the rest of the world could only dream of.

    The visitor was still encased in ice, though the research team had begun to chip away at the block. They'd sampled the organic material around the gem, finding that the cellular structure didn't resemble anything found on earth. There were significant amounts of silicon and ammonia found during their preliminary analysis, leading some of the experts to theorize that the visitor was the first known silicon-ammonia based life form.

    Doctor Lund waved at the camera. "If everyone could give me their full attention, we are about to begin."

    He turned, gesturing to the machine behind him. "Our preliminary scans seem to indicate significant amounts of activity inside the gem. This activity is not unlike that of a human brain." He rapped his knuckles on the gem twice. "It is my theory that this gem serves as a neural centre of some sort. As well, it appears to be attempting communication of some kind."

    He waved an arm, bringing up a screen of shifting nanites. A visual representation of the signal they had found appeared, overlaid on an image of the strange auroras in the sky. "It's emitting a repeating pattern of EM radiation, one that seems to correlate to the movements of the aurora currently covering the majority of the Southern Hemisphere."

    He waved away the screen, dissolving it into a floating swarm. "I have designed a device that should replicate this signal and project it back into the containment room. Hopefully this will open some sort of dialogue with the visitor." He finished speaking and stepped out of view as an array of nanites buzzed past him.

    The swarm of minuscule machines lifted doctor Lund's devices into place. Four projectors locked into position, pointing up at the ceiling. The nanites locked into place, snapping together in clusters large enough to be visible.

    Doctor Lund stepped into frame again, a large pair of shaded goggles on his face. "Beginning initial test. Twenty percent power, just enough to produce a miniaturized aurora."

    The contraption that doctor Lund had built lit up, a prism of laser light crisscrossing the room. The feed crackled for a moment, before clearing and revealing the spectacular swirling patterns of light.

    "No response in activity. Nothing at all."

    Doctor Lund frowned. "Raise the intensity to thirty percent. Continue raising it in small increments if there is no response."

    They repeated the experiment three more times, pushing the light intensity up to eighty percent.

    "Cut it," doctor Lund ordered. "Perhaps we should attempt a more direct contact." He waved his hand and the nanites shifted. The devices pointed down towards the gem as the nanites rearranged themselves.

    "Commencing secondary test."

    A plume of static erupted from the gem as pale green light lit the screen. Jackson shielded his eyes as his screen flared to a blinding white. Then the screen cut to black and the feed died.

    Commander Jackson leaned back in his seat, looking across mission control at the rest of the support staff. There were only five or six other people in the room, all of them monitoring the Clef-7's transit to Luna station. It was the middle of the night and they weren't expecting anything until the Clef-7 had to insert itself into lunar orbit in the morning. They were all looking at him now, nervously tapping at their consoles and whispering to each other.

    "What's wrong?" he asked.

    One of the aides, a young woman fresh out of Lilycove University glanced over at him fearfully. "We just lost contact with the entire Lunar expedition. We're getting nothing from the station and Clef-7 just went dark."

    His eyes widened and he couldn't help the torrent of obscenity that poured out of his mouth. He was across mission control in moments, doctor Lund and the visitor at the forefront of his mind. Something was wrong and he had a sinking suspicion that they were related.

    "Get me the wide-band. Maybe we can raise them that way."


    Clef-7 Transorbital Command Module, Lunar trajectory, Final approach to Luna Station

    He woke slowly, the blaring alarm punching through the haze and echoing in his skull. His brain throbbed with each klaxon, seeming to drive spikes through his ears. The ship was uncomfortably still, telling him that the main generator was offline.

    He opened his eyes, still in a confused daze. The command module was small, cramped even by the standards of modern spacecraft. There was room for him and his copilot, whose seat lay mysteriously empty behind him.

    He craned his neck, looking down at the minuscule airlock on his left. One of the two EVA suits was missing. He breathed a silent sigh of relief and leaned back in his command seat. He was groggy and in pain, but he was fine for the moment.

    He reached for the headset as it floated by, grabbing it out of the air. He slipped the local communicator over his head and flicked the switch on the side.

    "Greaves, you ugly bastard. Where did you go?"

    Quiet static was the answer. The man reached up for the screen in front of him, fiddling with the dials on the side of his display. The screen stayed stubbornly black and the power indicator remained dark.

    He tapped on the old analog display beside the screen. They remained dead and silent.

    He unbuckled his harness, slipping out and pulling himself up towards the capsule's lone viewport. They had been facing towards home, a small blue marble shining in the vast darkness. Endless blackness greeted him, only a strange purple-blue light shining on the edge of the viewport catching his eyes.

    The screens roared to life, a cacophony of alerts and alarms screaming to life. He swung himself back into his command seat, silencing the alarms and dismissing all but the most urgent of the alerts. He felt the vessel jerk and grunt as her electrical systems stuttered to life. Something ground along the outside of the ship, maybe the solar panels, or the antenna extending.

    A bolt of living lightning crackled around the edge of the screen. A pair of disembodied eyes floated above the screen, blinking sleepily.

    "R-7, what happened?"

    The rotom blinked in confusion. The strange little creature must have been inside the computer when it had shut down. They didn't take too kindly to that. He'd seen malfunctioning rotom go berserk and possess machinery, massacring the poor humans that just happened to be in the vicinity. He much preferred the safer porygon series, but even the latest models were not capable of what a rotom could do.

    A garbled string of static warbled through the speakers. The disembodied eyes blinked one last time and the last few blinking alerts fell silent. "Hello, Commander Pritchard. I apologize for the d-d-delay. I was damaged in the event."

    "What event?" He replied. Something had happened. Something terrible had happened. "Give me a full report."

    "We lost tight-beam connection-n-n-n with Luna Station-n-n-n at 23:52. Exterior cameras show structural breakup of Luna Station at 23:56-6-6-6. We lost power at 23:58, when some kind-d-d-d of radiation-n-n-n burst hit us." There was a long pause. "I'm still analyzing the d-d-d-data, but it's like nothing I've ever seen-n-n-n before."

    Pritchard sighed. "How's the ship?" he asked. "Is she seaworthy?"

    R-7 paused again and he knew that something was wrong. "Our e-e-electrical systems have taken severe damages-s-s. It appears as though someone manually-y-y repaired some of the exterior connections."

    "Greaves probably did," he said. "One of the EVA suits is gone."

    R-7's disembodied eyes disappeared through the screen. He heard a loud spark and the muffled thump of an impact on the hull of the command pod.

    The Clef-7 Orbital Command Module was a powerful machine. She roared to life now, groaning and whining under the stress of a cold start. The familiar hum of the ship's generator returned, offering some small amount of solace.

    "Oh d-d-dear," R-7 spluttered. "It appears that we have been n-n-noticed."

    "Noticed?" Pritchard asked cautiously. "By what?"

    R-7's eyes were full of fear. The tinny speakers did nothing to calm the utter terror that Pritchard could hear in the rotom's voice. "By it."


    Unknown/Undefined

    Alone.

    Scarce whispers in the endless dark.

    Lost.

    Tumbling, tumbling down through fire and light.

    Cold.

    Frigid impact, freezing wastelands.

    Lonely.

    Unanswered calls in cold darkness.

    Found.

    Rough hands, unfeeling steel. Not friends.

    Trapped.

    Lost the sky. Endless darkness. Confusion.

    Quiet.

    Terror, fear of silence, calls cannot reach the sky.

    Hope.

    Hear something. Distant friend calling me.

    Closer.

    Friend is coming. Must call for help.

    Silent.

    Help Jade-Self! Help Me!

    Help Jade-Self! Help Me!

    Help Jade-Self! Help Me!

    HELP JADE-SELF! HELP ME!

    Pain.


    Camp Russell, LaRousse Science Expedition, Antarctica

    He looked up at the ceiling, blinking the blinding lights away. Try as he might, the undulating lines of that strange green aurora stubbornly refused to disappear.

    "Doctor Lund!" shouted a woman's voice. He felt hands grabbing at him, hauling him back up to his feet. It was Mari, blue hair let down from the tight bun she'd had it in. "Are you-"

    "The visitor," he interrupted. His vision cleared slightly and he saw the distinct blue of his research assistant's hair, a young thing fresh from LaRousse Academy, supporting his weight. "What happened?"

    "I don't know," Mari replied. "I can barely see."

    An unintelligible shriek ripped across the room. Doctor Lund felt himself hit the floor as he clamped his hands over his ears. The scream was not audible though, and his efforts did nothing to stymie the scream.

    There were more voices now, angry and surprised shouts of pain joining his and Mari's. He had to do something, had to stop the screaming before it drove them all mad or worse.

    "Double the containment shell!" he roared, unsure if he could even hear his own voice anymore.

    The his nanites heard him though. They didn't rely on fallible things like human frailty. The command chip was implanted in his brain, removing the need for verbal command. Still, he often found himself slipping back into the old habit of shouting orders.

    He felt the rush of cold air as parts of the structure streamed towards the gleaming gem. He felt entire swathes of the swarm simply flicker off and die, vast amounts of EM radiation burning out the unshielded nanites before they could even reach the visitor.

    Doctor Lund swore even as a twisting and shifting shell wrapped around the gem. The screaming pressure in his mind faded slightly and his vision cleared as the swimming aurora faded from view.

    "We have to get to my fabricator," started the doctor. "My regular nanites can't take the radiation."

    One of his assistants, a burly young man from Unova, stepped forward. Lund had never bothered to learn the young man's name, something he now regretted. "Sir, the containment shell is collapsing."

    Doctor Lund looked down in fear and awe. "Then we have even less time than I had thought." He pointed at a pair of assistants, the burly man and Mari. "You two, carry it between you. I can swap in nanites from the facility construction as we go. We should have more than enough to reach the fabricator."

    Mari looked up at him, her eyes shifting from the decaying shell of nanites and the good doctor. "Sir, are you sure that's safe?"

    Doctor Lund shrugged. "At this point, leaving it here exposed could be more dangerous. We don't know what happened and allowing the visitor to break containment could prove apocalyptic." He glanced back and forth between the two assistants. "I'll have the nanites fashion some sort of sling to make it easier."

    The burly man nodded. "Then let's hurry."

    Doctor Lund closed his eyes for a moment. A swarm of nanites flowed down from the ceiling, slinging under the crumbling containment shell. Great patches of the facility exterior were missing, more nanites streaming down every moment to replace the dead and dying ones. A gust of frozen wind ripped through the disheveled lab, chilling the five humans down to the bone.

    Mari looked over at the man as they looped their arms through the sling. She couldn't suppress the shiver of cold running down her spine. They shuffled through the blowing snow, nanites swirling around them to replace the ones that were falling dead to the ground.

    It was cold.

    Her hands were numb.

    Her eyes frozen shut.

    She couldn't hold on any longer.

    The nanites tried to compensate, grabbing to her hand even as it let go. The screaming radiation was too much, killing the nanites before they could even grab hold.

    The sling gave way, smashing the shell down onto the ground and killing yet more nanites. A silent scream forced them all to their knees, exposing the gleaming gem as more nanites swirled around them.

    Doctor Lund was shouting order to the nanites that he couldn't hear. He could barely think, hands clamped over his ears to block out the screaming.

    It suddenly went quiet. The scream died and Doctor Lund looked down. The shell was intact again, more and more nanites steadily replacing dead ones.

    "We have to move," the doctor said. "Mari, get out of the way." He looped his hand through the sling, lifting it as the burly assistant did so.

    They shuffled another few feet and the sling shifted as part of the bottom dropped out. The assistant grabbed the bottom of the shell, his hand crushing through layers and layers of dying nanites.

    Doctor Lund saw, too late to do anything. He shouted incoherently as the psychic scream returned. He dropped to his knees as the mental pressure took over, removing all spare thoughts.

    The assistant struggled as his hand crushed through the last of the nanites and directly touched the gem.

    Doctor Lund felt a wave of power hit him, felt himself sailing through the blowing snow. He hit the ice, sliding to a halt in the freezing cold.

    The screaming was gone, but the sky was alive. The aurora was on fire, flecks of light and power sparking between wavy lines. A beam of vibrant green light shot into the sky, painting new lines that stretched past the horizon and far into the atmosphere. He stared up in horror, realizing that they'd unleashed something terrible.

    He got to his feet, watching as the assistant turned to face him. He couldn't see the gem anymore. Then the man, coat shifted and he saw the faint green glow under his shirt. He saw the man's face, or rather a vague facsimile of it replicated as if crudely drawn by a child. Then the man shifted and he saw the second body being absorbed into it, Mari's distinct blue hair flecked with snow and ice.

    Doctor Lund ran. He ran and didn't look back.

    Something that had once been human stumbled after him, groaning in tongues that were not it's own.


    Clef-7 Transorbital Command Module, Lunar trajectory, Final approach to Luna Station

    Pritchard furiously keyed in a series of commands, feeling the vessel respond under him. "Get me a course back to earth," he ordered." "something that'll slingshot us past the moon."

    R-7's terrified eyes blinked dumbly.

    Pritchard swore, tapping in a series of commands and hoping that he'd made the correct calculations. He slipped his harness back on, barely managing to get the buckle shut before the thrusters fired and jerked him to the side.

    The local communicator sprung to life, tiny speakers crackling out a string of static. "—~**¥—"

    Commander Pritchard lifted the communicator as the thrusters fired again to arrest their spin. "Say again?"

    "-riT-~arD!"

    "Greaves, is that you?"

    R-7 shook off whatever was freezing him in place and disappeared through the screen.

    "Pritchard, its fucking looking at me!"

    Commander Pritchard pounded on the outer airlock release. "Get back in here," he ordered. "We're getting out of here."

    "It's already coming," Greaves said ominously. "Close the hatch. Get yourself home, it's going to take me."

    "What the hell are you talking about? What's noticed you?"

    Something hit the ship, forcing it into a desperate spin. Static screamed out of the communicator and he could feel the scream of metal rending apart. He could hear atmosphere venting, could feel the air getting thinner with every breath. A brilliant purple shone through the viewport, blocking out the earth with its glow.

    R-7 was shrieking, bouncing about the cabin and sparking in terror. Pritchard shrunk back in his chair, praying that the rotom didn't accidentally kill him.

    The Clef-7 was the pinnacle of human ingenuity. It was designed to function as the command point for humanity's first permanent lunar outpost, and possessed the space for twelve adults to live in the habitation module. It was designed to withstand micrometeor impacts, the hard ride up through atmosphere and withstand the constant bombardment of cosmic radiation. It opened like a tin can.

    Commander Pritchard didn't fight it. He let his breath rush from his lungs, knowing that fighting it would only kill him faster. He felt his skin begin to freeze, felt his vision swim as he started to pass out.

    Red tendrils reached past him, rooting through the Clef-7's interior as if it was looking for something. He felt a presence touch his mind, watched R-7 drift away unconscious. The purple glow was all he could see.

    It was gone as quickly as it had come, tossing the Clef-7 away like garbage. Pritchard felt the same screech in his mind, watching the strange spindly tendrils tear open the habitation module and rip out the humans struggling inside.

    Then he turned, the remains of his vessel turning back to face the earth. He would have gasped if he had any air left to do so.

    The earth was lit up a vibrant green, twisting auroras of unnatural light wrapping around the southern pole.

    Pritchard felt a scream like no other and watched the purple glow rocket towards the earth. Then he felt nothing at all. Nothing but the cold darkness of the void as he drifted over the moon.


    Mount Hokulani Observatory, Ula'ula Island, Alola

    Big Mo had let him stay. Even after everyone else went home, Big Mo stayed with him. They stayed up all night, watching the different constellations and looking at the night's sky.

    They'd spent half the night trying to get some good pictures of the fancy new aurora that was billiowing into space over the South Pole. Big Mo was a genius, but even he couldn't get a good picture. He said that we'd have a good picture in the morning, once one of the satellites orbiting the earth got close enough to get a good one.

    "Here," said Big Moc in a hopeful voice. "You want to see our new moon base? It's not quite there yet, but…" his voice trailed off.

    The sun was already starting to peek from beyond the horizon. Soon he'd have to go home, back to boring old school. But he had time for one peek at a new moon base.

    But Big Mo was staring through the telescope intently, like something big had happened.

    "What's wrong?" Sophocles asked.

    Big Mo seemed to shake to life. "Go get my book," he ordered suddenly. "The big one with all my phone numbers in it."

    Sophocles dashed off, running up to his big cousin's office. He grabbed the big book off his desk, grunting as he lifted it and ran back down the steps.

    "Got it," he huffed proudly. "What next?"

    Big Mo tossed his phone to Sophocles, diving back over to the telescope. "Start calling everyone on the 'Really Big Emergency' page. Start at the top and call until someone picks up."

    Sophocles nodded and proudly saluted his cousin. He flung book open and flipped until he found the page labelled 'Really Big Emergency'.

    C. Shirona

    S. Oak

    J. Rykker

    W. Mikuri


    He looked up. Beside each name was a phone number. "Who are they?"

    Big Mo looked back, worry etched on his face. "People who can help us."

    Sophocles nodded, picking up his cousin's phone while he furiously took notes and stole glances through the telescope. He'd phone someone and help Big Mo, like a good cousin.


    Mossdeep Space Centre, Mossdeep City, Hoenn

    "Something just lit up over the South Pole," called one of the aides. "Bigger than before."

    "Putting it on-screen now," said a different aide.

    The big screen changed, cutting to a feed from one of Unova's new orbital imaging arrays. The aurora was billowing into space, vibrant green lights twisting and folding back upon themselves.

    "What's going on," Commander Jackson shouted across the room. "Somebody get a hold of Doctor Lund, and for Rayquaza's sake get me comms with the lunar expedition back!"

    "Sir, I've got something coming from Alola. Guy says he's the one who first saw the space-man."

    "The ones who leaked the pictures?" Jackson asked.

    The aide nodded, passing over a cell-phone.

    "Look here," Jackson started. "This is-"

    "Hi!" shouted a kid out the phone. "I'm with Big Mo and we just found something really bad."

    Jackson looked at the phone like it was growing arms and legs. "What did you find?" he asked cautiously.

    "I dunno," he replied. "He won't tell me." There was a small pause. "Here, one second."

    Jackson heard him put the phone down for a moment, trying to get someone's attention.

    The phone picked up a moment later. "Hello, who is this?" asked a different voice.

    "Commander Roger Jackson of Mossdeep Mission Control." He rolled his eyes at the unprofessional conduct that these two had displayed, trying not to sigh audibly. "Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

    "Molayne from Alola University, I'm preeety sure we met at the last Hoenn space expo."

    Jackson thought back, recalling an awkward and lanky blonde that was more at home among orbital charts and thrust calculations than other people. "I remember you," he said. "Why are you calling me right now?"

    "Something destroyed the Luna mission," he said quickly. "I'm sending the image over now."

    There was a long pause as the shock of his words set it. "I'm sorry," Jackson started. "What did you just say?"

    "I said I'm sending you the evidence now. It doesn't look good."

    Jackson looked up, signalling for one of the aides. "We're getting something from Alola, something I want up on the screen the moment it's here."

    The aide nodded, taking the phone away and running back to his station. Jackson sat heavily in his seat, looking up at the screen in dumbfounded terror.

    Then it changed. The screen flicked to the photo that Molayne had sent, a crystal clear image of the expedition's fate.

    The Clef-7 was in pieces, the orbital module spinning away into space. The habitation module was torn open, debris leaking out slowly and bodies still clearly strapped into their seats.

    Behind them, the Lunar station was a ruin. It no longer resembled a structure of any kind and was just a debris field floating in front of the Clef-7.

    The room was silent, not a breath in or out. Nobody dared to say a word, not with the images of utter failure still on the screen.

    The aide passed him back the phone. "Is this a trick?" he asked numbly.

    The answer on the other side was simple. "No," he replied.

    "I have to call the champion," Jackson said. "He must be notified."

    "I've already done so," the voice replied.

    Jackson sighed heavily. "Then that's all there is to it," he said bitterly. "We're all out of a jo-"

    "Sir!" shouted another aide. "We've got movement from Sky Tower! Rayquaza is mobile!"

    Commander Jackson rose from his seat, trying to keep his breathing calm. "He hasn't moved since he quelled Groudon and Kyogre…"

    "We've got something else entering our atmosphere as well, Southern Hemisphere."

    Jackson's eyes widened. "Then he flies to save us once again." He lifted the phone up to his face. "I'm sorry, I have to make a call." He hung up, slowly and methodically dialling the number for home.

    Rayquaza had only risen last time to stop Hoenn's deities from destroying her completely. For it to stir again, so soon after expending so much strength… Jackson couldn't fathom the danger that they all must have been in.

    The phone answered on the third ring. His wife's happy voice greeted his. It was good to talk one last time, just in case.


    Camp Russell, LaRousse Science Expedition, Antarctica

    It was still following him. He could see it sometimes, a bright green glow through the blowing snow. He could see shadows, what looked like a thousand fingers reaching out towards him.

    The truck was gone, along with the workers. The tracks led off into the snow. He didn't know when they'd fled, perhaps when the building had started falling to pieces around them, perhaps when the aurora in the sky had bathed them all in winding green light.

    "Tori!" he shouted.

    He climbed the hill of snow overlooking the ice shelf. He had no idea where his son might be, no idea what had even happened. For all his intelligence, all his knowledge, he had made a terrible mistake.

    "Tori!" he shouted again.

    A purple-blue star cut through the green light. The streams of winding green contracted around it, entwining with the beams of purple and blue shining off the newcomer.

    Doctor Lund fell back, gazing up at the Visitor in awe.

    It stumbled past him, a dozen tendrils of remade flesh stretching out where arms should have been. The torso was triangular in shape, twisted and contorted from its former human form.

    He gazed up at the purple star and watched a thousand tendrils of waxy red descend from the purple star. It looked closer and realized that the star was no star, but a symmetrical triangle.

    "It remade them…" Doctor Lund said slowly. "In its own image. This creature is unlike anything I've ever seen before."

    The green gem turned to face him as the purple star descended towards them. He caught a glimpse of Mari's face atop the triangle and shuddered. Then it turned back and looked at its kind.

    Waxy red tendrils wrapped around the green gem, prying it from the chest of its stolen body. The misshapen corpse crashed to the ground, a puppet who's strings had just been cut.

    The lights in the sky retracted, retreating back into their respective gems. Both pulsed together in unison, casting the ice shelf in a green and purple hue. The tendrils of red wrapped tighter around the gem, melding together and forming another triangle around the green gem.

    A burning beam of white hot light engulfed the Visitors. It carried on, plunging into the ice from above and superheating the frigid water below.

    A plume of steam erupted from the ice shelf, the ocean below violently boiling in an instant. The entire ice shelf bucked and cracked, splintering in a thousand places. A geyser of boiling water exploded, huge chunks of ice catapulting into the sky.

    Doctor Lund fell back as the ice below him buckled, sliding down towards the impact centre. He rolled uncontrollably, sliding on the ice as sealo and walrein plummeted into the ice all around him.

    He rolled onto his back, opening his eyes to the white-gold fire burning in the sky. He saw the green scales, marvelled at the golden light shining from the sky god. Rayquaza had taken notice of the Visitors.

    He saw the sheet of solid ice falling towards him. He saw his death rushing up to meet him. He didn't feel the end.


    The Ice, Antarctica

    The truck engine roared over the sound of the storm. It revved higher, the driver gunning it towards the coast. The ship that had brought them here was still anchored off the ice shelf, waiting for the return journey.

    Tori Lund peered out the back window, clutching to Miss Yuko's hand. He watched the green dragon come from the sky. He watched the explosion of steam that cracked the ice beneath the truck. He watched the shining monsters emerge from the plume of steam unharmed, twisting and writhing arms reaching out for the sky god.

    He watched the terrible creatures do battle with Hoenn's saviour, casting it down into the ocean with flashes of vibrant light. But the sky god was stronger than both, and burned with furious golden light. Rayquaza grew stronger, angrier. It laid waste to the frozen wasteland, carving burning furrows into the rocky land and melting great glaciers that had stood for millennia.

    The Visitors fought back valiantly, conjuring shields of strange light to defend themselves. But it was for naught. The sky god was not to be defied. It cast them down, burying the shining gems in the shifting ice. There they stayed, trapped as the ice refroze around them.

    Tori sat there in shock and fear even after Rayquaza announced its victory over the broken ice shelf. He didn't move until they got back to the boat, only shuffling quietly to the waiting helicopter.

    Tori gazed silently out the window at the ruined landscape as they flew away. He didn't stir, didn't speak even when asked a question. He was silent.

    Just like the ice.


    Unknown/Undefined

    Alone.

    Scarce whispers in the endless dark.

    Lost.

    No answer, no friends.

    Weak.

    Punished by golden fire.

    Alone

    No answer. No friend.

    All alone.

    Silence.
     
    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!
     
    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…
     
    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."
     
    The Hero, From Another Story
  • Joshthewriter

    Charizard Fan
    Location
    Toronto
    Pronouns
    He/him
    Partners
    1. charizard
    CW: Blood/Violence, harsh language, mentions of suicidal thoughts (in later chapters)

    This is a part of the Journey series. While knowledge of the other fics in the series is not required, it may enhance your reading experience.



    The Hero, From Another Story

    The First Loss


    Footsteps echoed down the long, cold hallway. The prisoner's head perked up at the approaching sound. It had been days since he had last heard that distinct gait, listening intently for the barest trace of a limp present in his nemesis' steps.

    He knew who was coming, but what he didn't know was why. The man had already asked him half a thousand questions, none of them making any sense to the raven-haired boy. He put the incessant questions from his mind, steeling himself for the encounter.

    He would make an attempt to escape this time. He was the chosen one. He was Arceus' true hero, a knight of aura and an avatar of vengeance in a cruel world. He had never been denied his will until his transportation to this strange place, but he would change that today.

    A tall, imposing figure turned the corner. He approached the cell slowly, as though he knew the prisoner had been agonizing over this moment and was intent to draw it out.

    The figure stopped at the bars of the cell. The prisoner remained blankly focused on the wall, giving the tall figure nothing.

    "Ketchum," said the man. "I would have words."

    His gaze never shifted from the point on the wall. Ash Ketchum tightened his fists, reaching for the well of willpower within him that fuelled his power.

    Ash Ketchum glanced down at his fists, hoping beyond hope that the azure flames of Aura's power would be burning on his fists.

    Stubborn darkness greeted him. No fire danced in the dim light, no inner power answering his desperate call.

    Ash Ketchum felt his shoulders sag and his spirit waver. He glanced up at the tall figure, scowling at his captor. "Go fuck yourself, Giovanni."

    The tall figure sighed deeply and Ash suppressed the urge to try to grab him through the cage. He wanted to bash the Rocket Boss' head in and enact one of his patented escape plans, but a sinking feeling in his gut told him that the idea was doomed.

    "You continue to address me in this manner," Giovanni began, unperturbed by his prisoner's harsh mannerisms. "And yet, as I have told you, I have no clue who you are."

    Giovanni unfolded his arms from behind his back and flipped open the folder he held there. "As far as my considerable resources have been able to tell, Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town does not exist."

    Giovanni closed his file folder with a sigh and looked up at the teenage trainer. "At least, not in this universe."

    "You said that before," Ash replied curtly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

    "Do you remember how you came to be here?" Giovanni asked cautiously. "Anything at all?"

    Ash was quiet for a long moment. His fists tightened and hard lines set into his face as he remembered the fateful battle that had landed him in this cell with his pokemon massacred.

    "You beat me," he said quietly. He shook his head and corrected himself. "No, you didn't win. I lost."


    Ash pressed through Giovanni's team, his own pokemon creating a path through the madness. His lucario was locked in battle with an armoured Mewtwo, and his pikachu fended off an arbok with ease.

    The room rippled and swam for a moment, then the scene shifted almost imperceptibly and Ash caught a flash of gold interspersed with bands of violet light and thick bands of smoke that dissipated as soon as they appeared. He landed on one knee, steadying himself on the ground and fighting the urge to vomit.

    He glanced up, at the small bunker that he'd traced Giovanni to. He was so close to finally killing Giovanni after what the Rocket Boss had done to him. After he'd turned his friends against him and forced Ash to kill them all in a desperate race for survival.

    "Giovanni!" shouted the chosen one. "I'm here to kill you!"

    His hand dove into his pack, pulling out a full restore. Ash emptied the bottle into the back of his injured shiny lucario. His black hair was matted with sweat and blood and his team of fearsome pokemon stood with him. He couldn't feel the fire of Aura flowing through him, but battle had been joined and there was no avoiding it now.

    Ash's golden lucario rose from his feet, facing down Giovanni. Mewtwo was missing and he would have no better chance than this. The crime lord had changed into some sort of bulky exploration suit. None of his pokemon were present, just a massive brute of a pokemon with golden rings banding each limb.

    A trio of golden rings spun into existence, leaking thick smoke and violet light. Three gods emerged from the strange rings, their eyes blazing the same violet as the ringed creature behind Giovanni. Twisted apparitions of the Bird trio screeched their cries in unison, no doubt twisted like Mewtwo had been.

    Ash stepped forward, raising the skarmory steel feather that he had long used as his blade. "Stand down and prepare to be—"

    An red-orange blur slammed into his charizard's throat, snapping the fire drake's neck with the suddenness of its attack. Charizard toppled, limp limbs and wings splayed out at an awkward angle. The Zapdos skidded to a halt, glaring down at Ash with malevolent hate.

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

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

    Ash felt the psychic force hold him lessen and fell back in shock, the rest of his team still frozen in place. His lucario made it a few steps before midnight fire smote it where it stood. His espeon glowed with psychic light, but the purple Articuno wiped it from the earth with a flick of its mind.

    Pikachu finally shook off the effects of Articuno's immobilizing gaze. Ash's starter glanced back at him, the same determination filling his eyes that had driven the little electric mouse to victory over every foe that the pair had ever faced.

    "Pikachu…" he started, his voice faltering for the first time since the horde of spearow had descended on him during the first days of his pokemon journey.

    His starter nodded once and turned back to face the bird trio with the betrayed hero of his universe at his side. Ash hefted his feather-blade, intensity burning in his stare. He struck the pose that his pikachu could use to channel the Z-powers contained within them both.

    "Gigabolt Hav—"

    Pikachu leapt up before Ash even finished his command. White hot electricity surged from the little pokemon's red cheeks, bathing the chamber with the sky's fury. Pikachu let loose with everything that the little mouse had.

    Ash felt his hair stand on end as lightning bathed their foes. He tasted ozone and shut his eyes to block out the impossible light. Then it faltered. The retribution of the storm died and Ash felt his heart drop as he dared to look. The birds hadn't even been scratched, let alone knocked out by the most powerful attack that his pikachu had ever used.

    An orb of yellow electricity crackled to life above the Zapdos. The purple Articuno conjured its own orb of chilling elemental energy as the midnight Moltres did the same with a ball of fire.

    Pikachu leapt up in a last desperate effort to shield his trainer from certain doom. The assembled gods loosed their power as the little pokemon lit up with one last thunderbolt.

    Ash closed his eyes, shutting out the quiet shriek of pain before his starter was silenced for good.

    He heard a muffled command come through Giovanni's suit and opened his eyes to see the trio of gods disappear through the same golden rings as before.

    A pair of blast doors beneath a small viewport, a dozen armed soldiers bursting through and training their rifles on him. Laser dots painted his chest, but none dared to fire. The implication was clear.

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

    Ash let his feather-blade fall useless to the floor. He looked inwards, for the well of Aura that had always burned inside of him. Arceus had called it his blessing, an endowment made to aid in his chosen one's quest for good. But now, the well of Aura was silent and dead.

    He reached for the power anyways, fighting to draw on every ounce of willpower within his soul. Ash Ketchum willed it to the surface, letting his emotions run wild in a vain attempt to draw more of his Aura loose.

    Still, the well remained silent and empty. No azure flames came forth, no supernatural strength and speed filled his limbs. Ash Ketchum let his arms fall to his sides in defeat, his gaze falling to the floor.

    He didn't speak. Not even when the soldiers kicked his feather-blade away and cuffed him. For the first time in his life, Ash Ketchum had truly lost. He had lost everything.



    "I was conducting a test upon the multiversal capabilities of the creature known as Hoopa." Giovanni folded his arms across his chest. "And in return, the multiverse spat you back at me." He sighed and leaned against the wall beside Ash's lone cell. "I am at a loss as to why."

    "And you think I'd be able to shed light on that?"

    Ash asked incredulously. "You're my greatest foe, the reason my life is in ruins." He rose to his feet and stepped up to the bars of the cell. "What are you trying to tell me? That you aren't Giovanni?"

    He tipped his head. "No. I am Giovanni Sakai, to be sure." He reached out with a key in his hand and unlocked the cell, swinging the door open. "But it might be more accurate to say that I'm not your Giovanni Sakai."

    Ash warily stepped towards the open door. "You mean to say that you aren't my enemy?"

    "The multiverse seemingly thought so, and I believe that it spat you here as a sort of counter to myself." Giovanni frowned and stepped away from the cell. Again, Ash saw the cold calculation in his gaze. He had the same unfeeling and chilling glare that Ash had seen a thousand times before. "Whether you are my enemy still remains to be seen. You did attempt to kill me upon your arrival here."

    Ash remained silent. He'd meant to kill Giovanni. He'd wanted to do it himself, run the older man through with his feather-blade and leave him in a puddle of blood. He'd have done it too, if his Aura hadn't failed him.

    "I know that this must be confusing for you. I went from your mortal enemy in one instance to… this, in a span of seconds." Giovanni turned his back and motioned for Ash to follow. "I would feel much the same, especially if I had spent as much blood as you had. But if you stay here and allow me the chance, I can show you that you are not my enemy."

    Ash Ketchum stepped out of the cell, following Giovanni down the short hallway into a small kitchen. He stopped suddenly, staring at the man with some suspicion clearly on his face. "You mean to say that you aren't an evil crime lord in this universe?"

    "I am a gym leader and founding member of the Indigo Aces." He turned and tried to offer a warm smile. "I have resorted to some less honourable methods in the past, but I am trying to save humanity. I am not an evil man."

    Giovanni turned and gestured to the kitchen. "Please, you will be my guest here. I apologize for the way we treated you at first, but you did not give us much of a choice."

    Ash frowned. The kitchen was small and spartan, like it was only intended for the use of a small group of people. He glanced at the heavy metal door that reminded him of the bars of his cell. This was still a cage, even if it was more comfortable than the cell.

    "My Giovanni was a gym leader." Ash looked back at the Rocket Boss. "He was obsessed with control, much like you appear to be."

    Giovanni chuckled, and led Ash down another hallway and away from the kitchen. "I would wager that he also had an underground facility that looked decidedly like an evil-lair." He turned his head with a grin. "We are likely often reflected in our multiversal selves. It is important to note that we are not likely to be perfect mirrors of our alternate selves. The multiverse is a window into possibility, where things can be different in a thousand minute ways."

    They walked in silence as Ash sourly contemplated the meaning of that. If this Giovanni was telling the truth then he had thrown his friends' lives away in vain. If that was the truth than he was no hero at all.

    He felt the resolve build in his mind. That could not be the case. He was the Chosen One. He would not have been punished like this in vain. He could only assume that this world had need of him. Even more than the world he had been torn from.

    Giovanni broke the silence and interrupted the train of thought as he pushed open the doors of the small living quarters. "You'll find these much more accommodating than your previous room." He ushered Ash through and let the door shut behind them. "This is where you will be staying until you've satisfied my caution."

    "You're allowing me to live?" Ash said, still having difficulty believing that Giovanni was content to let him live here unmolested. It was a cage still, but he had expected an executioner's block.

    Giovanni nodded slowly and Ash saw the same calculating gaze that his Giovanni was all too prone to. "Another version of myself may have been your enemy, but you are not my enemy."

    Ash raised an eyebrow. "You said that already."

    "Then ponder it," Giovanni replied. He turned toward the door. "I have business I am needed for in Indigo. I will be back in three days time."

    "And what am I to do?" Ash asked in response.

    Giovanni stopped at the door for a moment. He glanced back and for a moment Ash saw a glimpse of something dark and angry inside of Giovanni. He wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him or if his Aura powers were struggling to re-emerge. "There is a large library down the hall. I would suggest that you educate yourself on your new home."

    Giovanni turned and strode from the room, leaving Ash alone. The Chosen One listened to the footsteps lessen and then disappear entirely. He heard a heavy metal door slam a few minutes later and then nothing at all.

    He sat down finally, letting the tension leave his body. His shoulders sagged and his eyes fluttered as exhaustion washed over him. He'd been running on adrenaline during the entire conversation with Giovanni and now he was crashing.

    Ash laid back in the small bed. He didn't fight the sleep, praying to Arceus that he would find peaceful dreams rather than the hellish nightmares of death that he had been having. He could learn about his new home once he had gotten some rest, and just maybe he could find a way home.


    Hello there and welcome to the world of Journey.This fic came to me as a sort of fun concept during the writing of a one-shot (What We Do For Our Children, also found on my profile). I really liked the idea of looking at what happens to a "Chosen One" when they're transported to a place where they are no longer that.

    So while the initial inclusion of Ash into the world of Journey was initially somewhat of a joke, I really enjoyed this and hope you all find the concept as fun as I did!
     
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