PARAGON
Origin Child Arc [5]
Chapter 5 : Metamorphosis
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The morning sun warmed the beach as Ash and Cynthia prepared their pokémon.
This was her proof, Cynthia had said, for everything she’d been claiming up until this point. Words were one thing, and they had been plenty for Ash to follow her, but Cynthia insisted on a live demonstration of power. She looked very pleased with herself, in her black tank top and camo pants, as she rolled her shoulders and casually stretched.
Ash pulled a pokéball from his belt and stared at it. He knew he’d be facing Garchomp. Cynthia’d said as much over dinner last night, and Sylvester had laughed at her arrogance as he plated their steaks.
Ash hadn’t laughed. That dragon was already renowned across the world for its unparalleled strength, but if Cynthia was to be believed, it’d been granted all of that celebrity while only showing off half its power.
Greninja would be the best choice for his speed and ice moves, but Ash gripped Sceptile’s pokéball. The grass-type was an all-rounder. He didn’t have a type advantage, and he wasn’t the strongest, fastest, or toughest in Ash’s arsenal, but he was damn close.
Ash wanted to know just how far the distance was between the World Champion of the Pokémon League and the head of the Paragon Organization.
He released his partner, who immediately hunkered down in battle position, having been briefed on the situation by his trainer earlier that morning.
Cynthia pulled one pokéball and two ultra balls from her belt. “Don’t worry,” she called before he could protest, “your only opponent is Garchomp,” and she released all three in different directions.
A Lapras appeared by the coast, and it waded into the lapping shallows of the beach, while a Blissey materialized on the grass just before the forest, beside the de facto battlefield.
Then Garchomp landed on the sand across from them, and Ash began to sweat involuntarily. During the World Championships, it had seemed like a towering wall that demanded he rework his entire strategy just to ensure he could bring it down. Now, power radiated from it with every breath, every twitch of its tightened muscles, every flick of its yellow eyes. It almost seemed taller than before, and Ash found himself breathing heavier, its mere presence suffocating. It was like…
He swallowed. Like a legendary…
“So powerful,” he mumbled. “Is this the same Garchomp we battled just a few days ago?”
“When I use my strongest partners in League battles, I use limiters on their pokéballs to nerf their true strength. Some gym leaders use them as well, when they don’t have lower leveled pokémon for lower level gym battles. They were initially created by the International Police to restrain out-of-control wilds, so they’re not on the general market. I’m sure this is the first you’re hearing of them.”
True. It was.
Another item on a growing list of things Ash had not been privy to within the institution of the League.
Sceptile seemed to be having a similar reaction to Garchomp, as his teeth were clenched hard and he hadn’t taken his eyes off of it since it’d appeared.
“Breathe, Sceptile. We beat it once and we’ll do it again.”
At his words, Sceptile grinned and screeched in challenge, his anxiety ebbing away.
“You may have the first move, Ash.”
They had a plan. All that was left to do now was execute it. Ash exhaled.
“Leaf Storm!”
Sceptile hissed, summoning a blizzard of razor sharp leaves around him before hurtling them toward Garchomp. The dragon didn’t move a muscle, and Cynthia didn’t utter a word. As if it had a mind of its own, a thick sheet of sand leapt up from the beach in front of it, and with a wave of its fin, he cast it forward. It barreled through the leaves, ripping them to shreds, and Ash covered his face as the sands assaulted him. His eyes watered and he grunted as he fought through the maelstrom, and eventually it died down. When he lowered his arms, he did a double take.
Sceptile was already on his knees, blood leaking from his butchered hide, wheezing.
What the hell was that? Ash’s mind failed him. That Leaf Storm wasn’t weak by any means, and Garchomp countered it like it was nothing! And without being commanded to either! What even was that? Sandstorm? What happened to Sceptile’s resistance?
The plan had been to gauge Garchomp’s strength with a ranged attack, then use Sceptile’s speed to pepper in melee attacks. Now his pokémon looked to already be on his last legs. He wouldn’t even be able to stand, much less attack.
“Sceptile, are you—”
“Dragon Nova,” Cynthia commanded. “Be careful.”
Garchomp teleported. Or so it seemed. Ash hadn’t even had time to close his eyes to blink before Garchomp stood before him, purple draconic energy pouring off its fin in angry, rippling waves. Time seemed to slow as Ash processed what was happening. A belch of smoke from its serrated maw. An arc of pure violence. A blinding white light as the attack connected.
Garchomp’s roar, and the ensuing detonation of energy besieged every single one of Ash’s senses. His skin dried, his eyes felt like they’d been poked out, and his eardrums vibrated from his close proximity, but his concern was not on himself.
“Sceptile!”
Luckily, his trajectory was not hard to follow. Garchomp’s left fin was still curved in front of it from the punch, and Ash followed its tip out to the open ocean.
He was still flying away. Ash could barely even see him at this point but he just kept going, rocketing through the air like he was flying. Finally, he dipped down and landed in the water, a tiny splash of white in the far off distance.
Ash couldn’t move.
“Go get him, Lapras.”
The water-type flew away in an explosion of seafoam.
What…?
Not a minute later, it returned, clambering up onto the shore until it sat before Ash.
On its back, Sceptile lay broken and burned. His right side was scorched, and his entire body was bent at an impossible angle, curved around the point of impact. Pikachu moaned and Ash almost choked as Sceptile coughed. It was a scratchy, painful breath, but relief washed over him.
Ash could tell he was shaking, and he couldn’t stop. Every thought in his head died on the vine.
This shouldn’t… no, how is this… is Sceptile… what… how…?
Cynthia walked up from behind Lapras. “This is what I’m capable of.”
Ash snapped up at her and glared, his hands still resting on Sceptile, but she put up her hand and turned.
“I know you’re tired but Heal Pulse please, Blissey.”
The egg pokémon’s skin glistened with sweat as it waddled over and hovered its stubby hands over Sceptile’s mangled form. A bright light began to emit from the ends, and Ash looked away. When the light died down, Sceptile’s body was back in proper shape. The scorch marks had faded, replaced by sallow new skin, and the many lacerations across his body had scabbed over.
“He’ll make a full recovery,” Cynthia said. “Though he’ll be out of action for a week or two.”
Ash’s breathing slowed as he collected his thoughts. Anger, grief, and gratitude all roiled within him.
“You almost killed him,” he said quietly.
“That was never a concern. Garchomp is well aware of his own strength.”
“You almost killed me. That attack…”
“You were never in danger. Blissey protected you the entire time.” She pointed behind him, and Ash finally lifted his head and turned around.
Everything behind him had been utterly obliterated. Trees lay in embarrassing heaps as if they'd exploded from the inside. The ridge behind him was pockmarked with tiny, innumerable craters like it’d been eaten by vermin, and the beach had ruptured, wet sand yanked from the earth and dropped back to the ground unceremoniously in uneven mounds. Only a small circle of sand around Ash still looked normal.
Ash’s eyes widened as he surveyed the damage, before slowly turning back to Cynthia, then Blissey. Now that he thought about it, Blissey had been panting before using Heal Pulse on Sceptile. No wonder. It must have been no small task to protect him from Garchomp’s unfettered wrath.
“Thank you,” he croaked, and Blissey smiled.
“I’m sorry,” Cynthia said. “I thought my actions would speak louder than any words. The true purpose of this battle was to show you what is possible. You’ve spent almost a decade being… for lack of a better word, domesticated by the League. I wanted to shatter that glass ceiling in one fell swoop.”
Ash nodded in understanding, his attention back on Sceptile, whose breathing had stabilized as he slumbered on Lapras’ back.
“I also wanted to prepare you for the sort of work you’ll be doing in Paragon. This is no children’s game. There will be no League rules or regulations to protect your pokémon, or you, from excessive harm. Perhaps this is not what you signed up for. Just say the word and I’ll understand. You still have time to return to the limelight and reassume your role as World Champion. Of course, you’ll have to keep everything about Paragon a secret.”
Ash stayed silent for a while. Then, he chuckled, and Cynthia frowned at his change in demeanor.
“Do you really think I could go back after seeing that?” He got to his feet and recalled Sceptile, before facing Cynthia. Gone was the conflict. In its place, his face reflected iron resolve and his auburn eyes shimmered with determination. “I already made my choice. I’m not going anywhere. Thanks to this battle, I finally see beyond the veil. Everything you said yesterday about the League, even about legendary pokémon… it feels like it all makes sense now.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Cynthia smiled. “Although I invited you to Paragon because I thought you could help us, I’ve still been rooting for you to make your dream come true ever since we met. I’m glad I could help you take another step toward Pokémon Master. It will be up to you to find the next one.”
“Of course. I already have some ideas.” He glanced up at her and smirked. “You shouldn’t have shown us so much. I’m a fast learner.”
Cynthia raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell.”
“I don't think so. I still have to beat you, don’t I? No reason to give anything away now.”
“Ha! Someone’s feeling confident. I’ll tell you now that the others took no less than three years after I invited them to Paragon before they were able to defeat me, and I believe any one of them could have become World Champion.”
Ash’s gaze hardened. “Then I’ll do it in two.”
“Fighting words,” Cynthia said, but she was clearly impressed. “You also have a veritable army of pokémon. I don’t expect you to neglect a single one.”
Ash could practically hear the gears in his brain spinning, the adrenaline from the battle immediately shifting into overdrive as he started to think about what came next. A thousand possibilities distilled down to one in a matter of moments, then that plan sprouted a hundred branches. His eyes darted back and forth, categorizing and cataloging every new idea that popped into his head. Eventually, he forced himself to stop, and he grinned.
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“Thank you, Cynthia. I won’t let you down.”
Cynthia nodded and picked her pokéballs off her belt, recalling her partners. “If that maniac look you just had on is anything to go on, I’d say it seems like you have a plan for what to do next.” When Ash nodded, she smiled. “Good. Though I’m not sure you’d want me to, it’s a shame I won’t be able to stick around for your training. I got a call this morning and I’ll have to head out sooner than expected.”
“League business?”
“Something like that. I’ll be flying out of here this afternoon. I don't know when the others are supposed to come back, but if any of them do, say hi for me. If I’m not wrong, you should be familiar with a couple of them already.”
“Wait, what? Who?”
“Sorry, secret organization and all, figure it out yourself, Mr. Pokémon Master.”
Is that that ‘mysterious aura’ Sylvester was teasing her about?
He wailed in exasperation as they walked back to the complex together.
Far above, invisible to the eye, Cresselia watched them go. Her eyes narrowed.
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When they arrived back at headquarters, Cynthia split off to go pack up, and luckily, Sylvester was out trimming the hedges in front of the building.
“Hey, Sylvester! Think you could take a look at Sceptile? Cynthia beat him up pretty bad.”
He put down his trimmers and pulled off his gloves. “Absolutely. That cousin of mine is a veritable brute, though she doesn’t get to go all out very often so I’m not surprised. After he took Sceptile’s pokéball, he released the grass-type for a second to look it over, then recalled it. “Goodness,” he cursed and clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Yes, I’ll get started on the treatment immediately.”
“Thank you!” Ash said, before racing inside. Once there, he took what could have been the fastest shower of his entire life, eager to get into training immediately. First, he dashed back to the medical room where Sylvester was working on Sceptile. It was large enough to service any size pokémon.
“Ash!” the man jumped when he saw him. “Goodness you’re quick. I’m just about finished here.”
Sceptile sat up on an exam table as Sylvester massaged a translucent substance into his injuries.
“This salve is made from sitrus berries that grow here on the islands. Cresselia tends to them, so they’re more potent than usual.”
Ash nodded. “Thank you, Sylvester.”
“Still,” Sylvester said as he walked over to the sink. “It’s not like Cynthia to brutalize her opponents like she did. She must have been quite confident you and your pokémon could take it. I imagine she has high hopes for you.”
“No time like the present. I was going to begin training now. Are you done with Sceptile?”
“Yes. Sceptile is fine enough to move, but if you have him do anything too strenuous, his cuts will reopen and the new skin will sweat and break. Best to let him sit in the sun for the next few days.”
Sceptile groaned as he slid off the table. After moving around a bit to test his body, he seemed satisfied and walked back over to Ash. Pikachu flashed him a thumbs up, and Sceptile gave one back in response.
“Well, good luck with your training. As always, I’m around if you need me. And stop by my place before you decide to leave Paragon Island. I’d love to show you my pokémon and get a World Champion’s opinion on them.” He dried his hands on a towel and slung it over his shoulder.
“Of course! Cynthia pointed it out on the tour. South side of the island, right? I’ll definitely check it out before we leave, though I still have to befriend Cresselia first, so not sure if I’ll be heading out any time soon.”
“Befriend Cresselia? Oh, right. Yes, I guess that would be a problem if you couldn’t make it back here.” Sylvester smirked. “Must you be so difficult, Cynthia?”
They went their separate ways, and after stopping by his room to gather all of his pokémon in his duffel bag, Ash headed back outside and followed a path to an open clearing.
“I really need to find a better way to carry these,” Ash huffed as he tossed the bag down and began expelling their contents. Each pokémon came out with varying levels of annoyance, unused as they were to staying in a pokéball after running around Oak’s ranch freely for so long.
Sceptile stepped over to his comrades, and those closest immediately began fussing over his injuries. Oshawott tried spraying his skin with water to soothe it, but Gengar popped up and caught it in his mouth before it could land. Sceptile thanked Gengar for making sure the salve didn’t get washed off, and Gengar thanked Oshawott for the cool drink, licking its lips. Oshawott fumed as the ghost taunted him, but Goodra strode over to break them up before a fight could start.
“Alright, everyone, let’s get started!” Ash called, and his pokémon broke off their conversations to line up before him. Maybe it was because he could see them better now that it was day time, but gathered all together like this, the sight of all of them together filled him with pride, and a bit of anxiety. He was just one man, after all. The thought of raising all of them to the next level in just two years was daunting, to say the least.
“Our battle with Cynthia earlier… wasn’t great, but she showed us a lot, maybe more than she realized. For starters, I think there are three things we need to focus on if we want to beat Cynthia in two years.” He took a deep breath, ready to share everything he’d been thinking about since the end of their battle.
“First,” he held up a finger, “is communication. Besides the fact that it takes way too long for me to issue a command to keep up with something like Cynthia’s Garchomp, we’re also revealing our hand if I call out every single move. We’re practically telling our opponent what we're about to do. Maybe that’s not such a big deal against weaker trainers, but I could tell even against the others in the World Championships that a few of them were acting on my verbal commands, or at least trying to. Of course, I’ll still be directing the battle since I have a wider view of things, but we’ll need to develop each of your battle IQs so you can take the initiative in situations where you have literally less than a second to react.”
His pokémon nodded in understanding.
“Second, is pure power. Theoretically, this one should be the easiest to train up. Up until now, we’ve mostly been training against the wild pokémon we come across on routes, and against each other. It makes sense that we’ve been struggling to get to the next level, since our opponents stopped getting substantially stronger awhile ago. Last year, I came up with the idea of challenging all the gym leaders again, and that worked for the World Championships, and I have another idea similar to that that I’ll tell you all about later once I do a bit of research.”
They pumped their fists, excited for what their master had in store for them, especially those who weren’t fully evolved yet.
“Third, is cheating.” His pokémon squawked in surprise, angry that he’d stoop so low, but he quieted them down. “Third is cheating,” he repeated. “This is what Cynthia was trying to impress upon me the most, I think. We’re not in the League anymore, and this isn’t a friendly competition anymore. Paragon is responsible for dealing with threats that even the League has difficulty with, like insanely powerful wild pokémon and even criminal groups. Every battle from now on, you need to assume your opponent is trying to kill you, or trying to kill me. We should expect to get ganged up on. Cynthia technically deployed three pokémon versus our one, and if she was an enemy, they all would’ve attacked.” Pikachu pointed at himself, and Ash couldn’t help but smile, but he didn’t let himself get distracted. “Of course, that also means we don't have to play by the rules either, since there aren’t any. I have no plans of killing any pokémon or human, but we need to be aware of what’s coming our way. I doubt we’ll ever find ourselves in a true 1v1 scenario ever again.”
After hearing his explanation, his pokémon murmured in agreement between each other. Charizard and Scraggy snorted, eager to stop playing by the rules as soon as possible, and several others joined in their enthusiasm.
“Now as I said, that’s just for starters,” Ash clarified. “There’re still other things I want to tackle, like custom moves and techniques, as well as a few other more advanced ideas I came up with, but we’ll get into those on a case-by-case basis. Any questions?”
No one replied, until Ash felt a jolt in his brain.
I have a few concerns, Master.
“Ah, Lucario,” Ash said, picking him out of the crowd, and the iron jackal stepped forward. “What is it?”
I understand that before our great victory, human laws dictated you travel with no more than six partners at one time, but there are no less than seventy-five of us here. Will you be able to work with all of us? Not to mention the Tauros, who I suspect you’ll need to spend more time with to discern their personalities and preferred fighting styles. I also believe it would be wise if you yourself trained alongside us so you could strengthen your body and learn the ways of battle. Additionally, this sounds like quite the undertaking, so we’ll need to prepare enough rations and supplies to last this endeavor. And if I may add, I’ve recently taken a liking to a nourishment known as ‘potato chips,’ so I’d humbly request such accouterments to be included, though rest assured I understand that they are unhealthy and I—
Totodile squealed in impatience and headbutted Lucario’s leg, and the steel-type frowned in indignity.
“Thank you for your concerns, Lucario, you’ve given me a lot to think about.” Lucario was diligent to a fault, and had been back when he’d visited his old friend Riley to pick him up. As the younger brother of Riley’s own Lucario, he’d grown up at Cameran Palace, and as Ash had soon learned, he’d spent just as much time reading books in the library as he did training on the battlefield. He was a bit of a sheltered child who’d only recently spread his wings.
“If that’s all, then the next thing I want to knock out is finding Cresselia. She’s hiding on this island somewhere. Let’s split up and find her!”
His pokémon roared, invigorated by their new way forward, and they took off in various directions, with the flyers taking flight. Pikachu rejoined Ash, leaping onto his shoulder, and they disappeared into the forest.
One hour turned to two, then three, and by then, Ash’s stomach was starting to gurgle.
“C’mon, where are you?” he muttered. “Cresselia! Please come out, I need to talk to you!”
Pikachu shouted from atop his head as they stalked through the forest, but his back clearly wasn’t in it anymore. He was just repeating his trainer at this point.
“Should be lunch time right around now,” Ash said, checking his watch. “Let’s get to the end of this path then head back to base. I think Sylvester’s got pasta or something waiting for us.”
The sunlight filtering through the canopy gradually became brighter and brighter as the trees grew more sparse, and eventually, they reached a small ridge which dropped off onto sand.
They’d made it to the end.
Jumping off the ridge, Ash shielded his eyes from the sun, and its reflection off the ocean, as he looked left, then looked right. Pikachu squinted and mimicked him, holding his paw above his eyes.
“Oh…”
This was where they’d had their battle this morning. Ash had thought they were farther south, but the breadth of Garchomp’s attack had just been that big. The wind had done little to smooth over the sand, and the trees obviously hadn’t moved an inch. It looked like a hurricane had passed through.
Ash jogged over and Pikachu jumped off his head to sniff around.
“We really did a number on this place,” Ash murmured. “Well, I say ‘we,’ but it was all Garchomp.”
A thought crossed his mind, and just as he was turning to Pikachu, someone else broke through the forest’s edge. Torterra lumbered through the trees, pushing them aside with his giant shell. On his back rode Gible, who was gnawing on a rock, and Heracross, who seemed to be in the middle of a nap.
Ash deadpanned. “Busted. How’s the search coming, Gible, Heracross!”
The two pokémon immediately bolted up at the sound of their master’s voice. Torterra smirked as they tripped over themselves, getting to their feet and making a dramatic show of looking all around for the elusive lunar pokémon.
“Save the theatrics and get over here guys,” he said, and they obliged, eager to nip any consequences for their behavior in the bud. “This is where it happened.”
Heracross clicked in surprise, and Gible’s massive jaw dropped open.
“Think you’ll be able to do that one day, Gible?”
Gible didn’t respond, still entranced by the carnage.
“I want your guys’ help to clean this place up a little. Then we’ll go have lunch, okay?”
For the next hour, they labored on the beach. Eventually, Ash took off his shirt as the sun continued to beat down on them, but put it back on after realizing he’d probably get sunburned. He and Heracross loaded destroyed branches and trunks onto Torterra’s back so he could dump them over into a massive pile, where Gible proceeded to burn them to smithereens. Pikachu couldn’t do much due to his size, but he did chop the larger tree trunks into smaller pieces with Iron Tail so the others had an easier time of carrying them.
Once the remnants of the trees were gone, Gible and Torterra got to work shifting the sand and soil back into place and smoothing it over so it looked more or less like the rest of the island. Finally, all that was left to do was replace the trees they’d destroyed.
“Alright, Torterra, use Synthesis.”
Torterra grunted, and a green glow emanated across his back as the grass on it elongated. At several points, small oak saplings sprouted, and Ash smiled.
“Perfect.”
After climbing onto Torterra’s back, he carefully unearthed the saplings and brought them over to the barren forest, digging a hole for each of them. Before long, he’d planted a small grove of twenty oak trees, barely enough to fill the empty space.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Ash exhaled. “Well, that took way longer than I expected. And they’re not the same kind of tree but oh well. Thanks for your help, guys.”
His pokémon cheered, all proud of their handiwork. In one sense, it almost felt like he was covering up his loss, but in another, it was like he was creating something entirely new, clearing away the damage to make way for new growth. He was satisfied.
“Alright, let’s go have lunch. I didn’t think about it before, but there are other islands in the Fullmoon Islands, so Cresselia may not even be here right now. Let’s pay a visit to Sylvester later and ask him for some pointers. He seems a lot more forthcoming with answers than Cynthia.”
As they turned back toward the forest, Ash felt a shove from behind, and he stumbled as he caught himself.
“Hey! What gives Heracross—”
Cresselia stared back at him, chittering in delight.
“Cresselia!”
Heracross tensed up and raised his fists at the lunar mythic, ready to protect his master.
“Calm down, Heracross. No need to overcompensate because I caught you napping earlier,” Ash said, and the bug-type blushed, slinking back. Ash rubbed his head. He was a warrior in mind, but a sloth at heart. “Hey, Cresselia, we’ve been looking for you all morning. We just wanna talk for a little while. Is that okay?”
Cresselia seemed to mull it over, but she eventually turned away from him, instead floating over to the saplings he’d planted. She chirped happily and flapped her gossamer wings. Soft pink dust wafted from them and blew over the saplings. Where they touched, the leaves took on a shiny hue, and they almost seemed to glow with how reflective their surfaces became.
Torterra rumbled happily, pleased with her fertilization, and Cresselia bobbed back over, nuzzling his face before meandering back over to Ash. She smiled.
“O-Oh, you’re welcome,” he chuckled as her moonlight caressed his arm. “Sorry for ruining your island. It was my fault. It wouldn’t have happened if I was stronger. So…do you want to be friends?”
Cresselia chirped happily, spinning in the air. Pikachu sent a small introductory jolt at her, and she giggled, knocking Pikachu off Ash’s shoulder with a psychic push. Gible started jumping up at her, wanting to join the fun, but she floated over to Torterra, placing herself in his tree and resting in his branches, completely out of reach.
Ash smiled, and they all walked back to base together, gathering a few more on the way. Things just worked out for him every now and then, and this was clearly one of those times.
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Cynthia climbed into the jet and lowered herself into her usual seat. It was still only the afternoon, but she was exhausted, as usual. Sleeping in four hour intervals would do that. Just as she was beginning to close her eyes, one of her flight crew approached, and she opened them again.
“To Lily of the Valley, ma’am?”
She shook her head. “No. To Alola.”
“Again? Already?”
“Don’t ask questions. Just wake me up when we enter their airspace.”
He bowed and left her alone.
She closed her eyes again. Not like these men were untrustworthy, she’d hand picked them after all. The League supplied all their top trainers with a retinue of attendants, but for anyone worth their salt as high up as she was, they were immediately replaced. The other Champions were no different. They all pursued their own pleasures and interests beyond the ken of the League, though running a paramilitary group in Sinnoh’s backyard probably took the cake.
But some things she wanted closer to her chest than others.
She fell asleep after they took off.
Next — Chapter 6 : The Paragons of Paragon
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