A few minutes earlier from the last chapter…

It wasn't too hard to find the bomb the airship had fired. All he had to do was to look for the street with the large crater, once he extrapolated the launching trajectory.

As soon as he came closer, Flamestorm assessed the situation. To start, he activated his visor's scanner to check on the artifact and determine what to do. If that bomb was sensitive to heat or movement, he could've accidentally detonated it and get himself killed, along with the people he was trying to save.

"Okay, looks like it's safe," he said once he finished. The detonator was connected to a sonic wave generator, and the timer signaled less than two minutes before it fired off. "Watchcave, I need some help here, can we deactivate it?"

"The bomb's mechanism is way too complex," Latoya replied. "Time's running out, we can't defuse it as is."

"Well, guess that only leaves us one choice." Flamestorm extracted the core with the explosive, still beeping as the seconds passed. There was only one place to take it: up, up, and away.

The pyrokinetic vigilante crouched as he focused his full power in his legs. With a fiery eruption and leaving a huge scorching mark on the pavement, he rocketed towards the sky, pouring every ounce of power he had to keep the trajectory straight. Which was no easy feat, as he couldn't use his hands to stabilize his flight.

The plan was simple but very dangerous: he had to fly up and as far away from the city as possible, use the flight speed as momentum and throw the bomb as high as he could, right when it was about to explode. All the while, he had to fight the urge to check on the timer and focus on gaining distance and altitude.

Fortunately for him, Latoya was taking care of that for him. "Thirty seconds for detonation! You have to throw it NOW!"

"HERE GOES!"

Praying so he was at a safe distance already, the fire hero grabbed the artifact with his right hand, and giving himself a boost with propulsion from the elbow, he threw it skywards.

He was already out of the city's boundaries, so the innocents were safe. But if it really had a three-block blast radius as Hunter J had said, he didn't think he'd made it out in time to avoid it. All he could do was to fly as far away as possible to minimize the impact.

Propelling with his hands and feet now, Flamestorm turned around and tried to fly in the opposite direction, mentally counting the seconds left for the detonation. On the count of ten, he looked over the shoulder and saw the bomb still flying upwards, and then arching downwards before starting to fall back. Only five seconds left now…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…

The world went numb for a split second, and a deafening boom shook the night sky, as the sonic shockwave thundered behind Flamestorm. The vigilante clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, bracing for the inevitable, feeling as if a passenger jet hit him in the back, so hard that it caused him to stop shooting fire.

The last thing he heard was the sonic waves' boom piercing his eardrums, while his arms and legs went limp, and he started to fall. After that, he knew no more…

…

"Flamestorm!"

The archer watched in horror as his red-clad comrade plummeted like a meteor towards him, after taking that sonic blast. Even as a Bloodliner, there was no way he was sturdy enough to survive that fall.

"Hope this works. Hang in there!" he said as he pulled back his fist. It gathered a spiral wind, and quickly took the purple tinge of an Ominous Wind.

Once Flamestorm was close enough, Decid-Arrow delivered a powerful uppercut, sending out an air blast that quickly spiraled into a purple tornado around him. Flamestorm's unconscious form landed on top, managing to cushion the fall but failing to stop it. Thus Decid-Arrow immediately used the other fist to give the attack a boost, trying to create a makeshift wind tunnel so as to land him gently and safely.

"Come on, buddy, don't die on me now," he said as he slowly shifted the wind, slowly petering it out until he landed gently on the pavement. He quickly rushed forward and gave him a few gentle taps on his face. "Flamestorm, wake up. Come on, wake up."

"Ugh… what the… what … happened? Argh…"

"You alright? You didn't break anything, did you?" Decid-Arrow asked.

"WHAT?!" Flamestorm almost yelled, and then held his temples. "Argh, still that buzz in my head."

"The sonic boom must still be ringing in your ears," Decid-Arrow said, opening the communications channel once more. "Watchcave, what's our status?"

"Not looking good. Flashstrika is barely halfway to the hospital with Roberts, and Gligarman is still pursuing Pride Sniper. Meanwhile, Hunter J's goons are driving fast to meet with her and deliver their cargo, while she's back safe in her airship."

"Is that so? Damn it," the archer cursed under his breath. "Tell me where the goons are, we can't let them slip away."

"You think you can catch up to them?"

"I'm no Flashstrika, but I have a way to move fast when I need to. Where are they?"

"Right now, they're driving across Royal Street and have just gone past the intersection with the 35th. They're trying to take the shortcut out of town."

"Well, I know one or two shortcuts myself," Decid-Arrow said, switching off communications and then checking on his partner. "Rest easy, man, I'll take it from here."

"Give them hell for me. I'll catch up when the rest of me stops aching and I can fly again."

With a firm nod, Decid-Arrow ran back to town. Hunter J might have slipped away, but at least they could make sure she wouldn't get paid for her troubles. And with luck, Gligarman would take care of the sniper.

They had to apprehend at least one criminal that night.

----------------------------------------

Meanwhile…

As the Pride Sniper continued to surf through the air on his Mantine, Gligarman kept his glare fixated on him from behind. Despite being worried about the explosion from before, Latoya had assured him Decid-Arrow would take care of it, and told him to focus on not letting the hitman out of his sight.

"Sorry to tell you this, but do you think you could kick it up a notch?" he asked his mount ally.

Electivire looked at him through the corner of his eye, and groaned slightly. Even then, a second later he tensed his body and gave of a few sparks, after which he performed a violent speed burst, forcing Gligarman to hold on tight to avoid falling. A few seconds later they overshot the Pride Sniper and his Mantine, hovering in front of them.

"What the-"

Without hesitation, Gligarman jumped off of Electivire and pushed the criminal off the flying stingray. Mantine turned around and tried to rush in to catch them, but it was intercepted by Electivire, who grabbed hold to electrocute it, while hero and criminal plummeted towards the ground.

"Get off of me!"

"NEVER!"

In the middle of the scuffle, a strong wind current whipped up from below, raising a sand tornado under both men. Gligar had whipped up a Sandstorm attack to slow down their velocity until they both landed. Or rather, crash-landed, but at least neither of them suffered heavy wounds, and they could easily resume their fistfight.

As soon as he got an opening, the Pride Sniper delivered a right hook at the hero's face that took him down, and his next action was to try and draw a handgun on his hip. However, when he tried to aim, a small Gligarang got stuck in the cannon and blew it up when he tried to fire.

"ARGH!" he yelled, holding his injured hand and throwing the now useless weapon aside. "I should have guessed I couldn't do a clean getaway with you around."

"What would be the fun in that?" the hero replied, readying another Gligarang for throwing as his Gligar perched on his shoulder.

At the same time behind them, Mantine plummeted on the ground giving off sparks, and Electivire landed shortly after, the Magnet Rise aura now receding as its effect wore off. The Electric-type quickly joined them, ready for another bout.

"Alright, looks like we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Come out now!" He threw up in the air a pair of Ultra Balls with his good hand.

Two ferocious-looking Pokémon emerged: the first was a Weavile with unusually long claws and a large scar across its eye, although it seemed fully functional. The second, a rather long snake with large fangs and a blade-shaped tail from the Hoenn region; a Seviper.

"Weavile!"

"Ssssseviper!"

Gligarman gauged the situation. Two Pokémon each looked like a fair fight, and it seemed like the sniper wanted it that way. Even so, he couldn't let his guard down.

"Gligar, you know what to do. Electivire, give us a hand, will you?"

Gligar took to the air and coated his wings in metallic energy, taking a dive at Weavile, who without commands extended its claws and made them glow identically, clanking against the Steel Wing. Meanwhile, Electivire ran at Seviper with a fist charged in electricity, and the snake swiveled to dodge and countered by coating his tail in purple energy, trying to deliver a barrage of rapier-like thrusts with it.

As the Pokémon locked themselves in their fights, Gligarman saw the hitman turning his visor towards him, and readied his fists. The Pride Sniper grabbed the rifle he carried on the back and split it into two components. Much to Gligarman's shock, he donned the weapon's butt on his injured hand like some sort of knuckle, and with the other hand he held the cannon like a tactical baton.

"It's been a while since I last fought this way. Hope I'm not too rusty," he said before charging.

Gligarman blocked the first swing aimed at his head with both arms, and the Pride Sniper then tried to punch him with the knuckle, which to his horror produced a set of electrified spikes. Fortunately his suit was shockproof and the padding helped so the spikes wouldn't pierce through him.

Even without taking the weapons into account, the Pride Sniper was a formidable fighter, and not just with his fists. As he quickly learned, his legs were capable of delivering a lot of pain, and even with the padding in his forearms he felt the kicks.

By a lucky chance he managed to grab hold of one of them with both hands, and turned around to throw him aside, but he quickly recovered and charged again against the vigilante, pulling another piece of the rifle's cannon to reveal a hidden blade, now lunging at his lower face, the only place his suit didn't protect.

Gligarman stepped back to get some distance, dodging it just by the hairs, and when he charged again, he kicked the bladed baton/cannon out of his hands. He then delivered a punch to his face, but the guy caught it with his good hand and held tight. Gligarman tried to punch with the other fist, only to be parried with his other forearm, although for a brief moment Gligarman spotted a flicker of pain in his opponent's mouth.

Deciding to capitalize on that, he took his first chance to grab the opponent's injured hand and squeezed it, and while he was shrieking in pain, he threw him over his shoulder, slamming him on his back.

"It's over," Gligarman stated as he walked towards him.

While the guy was motionless, Gligarman walked up to him cautiously, extending a hand to pull his visor and see his face.

However, when he did, a failsafe triggered.

"What the-ACK!" A blinding flash went off, forcing Gligarman to cover his face, and his opponent used those seconds to spring back up with a double kick to the chest.

"It'll take more than that to bring me down," he said as he got back on his feet.

"Vile!"

"Gligar!"

Gligarman turned around for a moment to check the fight between their Pokémon. Gligar was floating in the air, firing a barrage of Poison Sting needles while Weavile covered its face. Getting sick of the assault, the Dark-type weasel opened its maw and unleashed an Icy Wind that froze the needles, and caused a frosty layer to appear in Gligar's wings, hampering his movements.

Electivire wasn't doing any better: Seviper had coiled around his body and was squeezing hard, and to top it off it had just sunk the fangs to suck Electivire's energy with a Mega Drain. The Electric-type tried to break free unleashing electricity from his body, but the snake endured the shocks almost unnaturally.

"Word of advice," the Pride Sniper piped up when he noticed. "Don't worry too much about them right now. For now we both have to watch our own backs."

"Same to you," Gligarman replied.

Was he waiting for something to come his way? In that case, he had to hold on until the Night Watchers could come to his aid, should he fail to overpower him on his own.

They both stood on guard and once again lunged at each other to start a fistfight. Right now, that seemed the best way to sort out their conflict.

----------------------------------------

Elsewhere…

Bartholomew J. West always took pride in being speedy and efficient in his job. He had to be, considering he was a firefighter for many years.

Now he had to show off that speed, to reach his destination in time, carrying the burden of a wounded Roberts and at the same time watching to not to worsen his condition. Every second passing was a second closer to death.

The speedster turned around three more corners, taking advantage of the low traffic, until he finally reached the Goldenrod General Hospital. Without missing a beat he sped up the entrance stairs and stopped suddenly at the reception lobby, raising a small wind current out of inertia that shook both the nurse on shift and the few people waiting at the time.

"Emergency!" he shouted. "I need help here, bullet wound!"

The nurse, a twenty-something blond woman with long hair, quickly snapped of her horrified stupor after seeing the blood, and pressed the intercom. "Calling Doctor Stiles, we have a bullet wound here! Get the E.R. ready ASAP!"

Without waiting for a response, she jumped over the reception desk to check on the situation and drive the curious onlookers away. She gasped as she recognized who the wounded was, but quickly composed herself. "Mr. Roberts, can you hear me? Are you still with us?"

"Ugh… yeah…" the philanthropist replied, trying to sound strong. Key word being trying.

"Easy, please save your strength," the nurse said, grabbing his hand gently. She then turned to the speedster vigilante. "What happened?"

"The madman who tried to murder him the past night came back for another go," Flashstrika replied. "And with anti-Kevlar bullets this time, that sneaky bastard."

Right then the doctor arrived, a man in his late twenties with brown hair and glasses, along with two aides rolling a stretcher. He was left speechless when he caught the sight, possibly due do recognizing Roberts, but quickly shook off the shock and gave his orders.

"Get him on the stretcher, pronto! Angie, I'll need your help here!" he exclaimed with an authoritarian tone.

The nurse nodded. "Yes, Doctor Stiles!"

"Doctor!" Flashstrika called, as he tossed him a glass tube with liquid. "The bullets contain an alkaloid to kill the victim. Use that to neutralize it."

"Thank you. Come on, move, move!"

As the doctor carried Roberts to the E.R, Flashstrika quickly sped out of the hospital and returned to the streets, opening the communications channel.

"I did everything I could here. How are things over there, Watchcave?"

"Flamestorm is temporarily out, and Decid-Arrow is trying to stop Hunter J's henchmen from taking the Pokémon," Latoya's voice replied. "Gligarman right now is fighting the Pride Sniper, but Hunter J slipped away. She must be safe in her airship as we speak."

"Sweet," Flashstrika snarked. "Well, I hope she cashed her job in advance, because she won't take her prey on my watch."

"The vehicle with the Pokémon has just gone past the Royal and 27th intersection. If you cut through the buildings in your current district, you might be able to catch up before they get to the fork leading to Route 35. Between you and Decid-Arrow, you should be able to cut their escape."

"Sounds like a plan. Full flash ahead!"

And with a super Wild Charge for his Motor Drive, Flashstrika increased his speed output, running up the nearest building until he reached the top, and jumping from one to another to cut a few seconds. A bit risky even for him, given that he was more a runner than a jumper, but right now, catching up to those goons was priority.

…

Decid-Arrow wasn't as fast as Flashstrika on his feet, but he had a way to come close enough when he had to.

One of the uses of his intangibility was to sneak across the shadows on the floor, pretty handy to dodge obstacles, enemies, and making sneak attacks. There was one downside: while he was phasing through the ground he couldn't see where he was going, thus he had to gauge the distance to know where and when he had to go back to the surface, and he'd only made that with years of practice.

Good thing he did, because right now, he had to catch up fast.

As fast as the six-wheeler was, it had two shortcomings impossible to ignore. It couldn't break through the buildings, and it lacked heavy weaponry to remove big obstacles from the path. As a result, it was forced to maneuver in the middle of the street, trying to take the shortest route.

As he arrived to the main street, he spotted his target approaching from the right, and a quick glance made him notice they had just stepped on the gas, and they also pulled out a couple of side turrets with gatling guns aiming at him. Just what he needed.

"Let's see how you like this." The ghost archer pulled an arrow head from his belt and pressed the button on his gauntlet to expand his bow.

Before they could fire at him, he materialized the Spirit Shackle arrow with one hand and placed the arrow head on the bow's launcher. He had practiced that trick for efficiency, as he always tried to fire before his foes if he could. All he had to do was line up the spectral arrow with the head, and then lift the safety lock before firing.

Aiming carefully at the wheels once they got in range, Decid-Arrow lifted the lock and fired. It impacted against the tire, exploding in a fiery blast that sent the vehicle through the air, its side turrets firing in random directions and hitting walls and glasses, before it fell upside down on the pavement after passing over him. The archer quickly retracted his bow and approached slowly, seeing how some of the henchmen tried to abandon the vehicle, pained and bruised, but some of them visibly angry.

"You accursed freaks, how dare you meddle in our plans?!"

"That's our job, isn't it?" Decid-Arrow quipped. "Now, will you come quietly or will there be trouble?"

In response, the goons pulled out their Pokéballs. Not wanting to deal with them, Decid-Arrow vanished into the ground, and sliding across the shadows, he sneaked under them and reappeared from behind, lifting both hands to deliver an axe double-handed strike to the biggest of them, right on the back of the head and knocking him instantly. The others turned around alarmed, and they managed to throw a few Pokéballs to let out a swarm of Golbat to overpower him en masse.

Underneath his mask they couldn't see Decid-Arrow's stoic expression remained still. No matter how many they were, he knew how to deal with them all at once. He closed his arms over his chest, and a purple ominous aura surrounded him. Right when the bats were all over him, he spread out his arms violently, unleashing an Ominous Wind purple hurricane in his surrounding area, blowing all the Golbat and crashing them against the nearby buildings, and the few goons who were lucky enough to get a hold of something before being blown away too stared at him in terror.

"Damn it, let's get outta here!" one of them shouted.

"You don't need to say it twice," another one added, and they all began running for it.

Decid-Arrow, for his part, once again expanded his bow and readied another spectral arrow. He specifically aimed at the guys' feet, and fired four more in quick succession to cover the entire area. Seconds later, all of the guys tripped over and fell face first on the pavement.

"What the hell...?! I can't move my feet!"

"Spirit Shackle," Decid-Arrow said as he approached them. "I've just stitched your shadows to the ground. You won't be running around for quite a while."

"And even without him, you guys think you'd outrun me?" another familiar voice spoke.

Decid-Arrow and the goons turned to it simultaneously, and they met the smug smirk of Flashstrika, who had just stopped before them, with his hands on his hips. The angry groans stopped instantly, and the goons raised their hands in surrender.

Afterwards, Decid-Arrow went towards the crashed vehicle. Not bothering to open the cargo area's hatch, he phased through it to find that the Pokémon collection was there in full, still turned into statues. However, he took notice of how the containers had some kind of switch, and he pressed it all the way down, learning that it removed the layer of whatever material they used to trap them. He immediately proceeded to free the others, hearing the police sirens wailing as he got to the last one.

"You are safe now," he said to the Pokémon. "The police will handle the rest."

Exiting the vehicle, he heard the sirens wailing, and shortly after saw the police cars arriving, headed by the local Officer Jenny riding her motorcycle with sidecar, screeching to a stop and almost jumping off of it upon getting close enough. The archer and speedster immediately approached her.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Officer Jenny, the Pokémon are all safe and sound."

"Good work, Decid-Arrow, Flashstrika," she saluted them. "We thank you for your cooperation, we'll take it from here."

Both vigilantes nodded, and upon looking up Decid-Arrow remembered something else. He quickly switched on the communicator.

"Flamestorm, what's the status over there? Can you fly yet?"

"Nope, sorry," the pyrokinetic vigilante replied. "Gligarman is still fighting the Pride Sniper right now, I'll try and get there on foot to help."

"Don't overexert yourself, we're on our way," Decid-Arrow replied, switching off communications and turning to Flashstrika. "Think you can give me the lift there?"

"Do you have to ask, chief?"

And without further words, Flashstrika grabbed Decid-Arrow by the shoulders, and both of them vanished in an electric streak. Gligarman could be a badass veteran, but even he could use some extra help.

Now that the Pokémon were safe under police custody, they could focus on catching the bad guys.

----------------------------------------

Back to Gligarman…

The fight between the veteran superhero and the contract assassin became fiercer and fiercer with each passing second, even when the two started to show fatigue.

At that point, both of them had left all precautions behind, and their fight had turned into a physical struggle as they tried to catch one another, either to choke or snap the other's neck. Or at least, that was what Pride Sniper attempted to do when he held Gligarman in a headlock.

Gligarman was grateful to his suit for having a reinforced collar, and even more for the strength boost as he grabbed his opponent's arms to break free, before tossing him over his head. If it wasn't for the suit he wouldn't have hold his ground against this guy. At least not as long as he did, even if he was in his prime. He truly was getting old.

The Pride Sniper stood back up, his mouth gasping under his masked face, but seemingly in better condition than him. All the while during the fight he had tried to pull out the concealed weapons he had all over his person: knives, stun guns, flashbangs and smoke bombs, and they were now spread all over the field. Among them were scattered pieces of shrapnel, belonging to broken Gligarangs.

"You're so… persistent… for your age…" the criminal muttered under his breath, holding his last combat knife in his good hand with reverse grip.

"Same… to you…" the vigilante replied, discreetly moving his hand to his belt's back pocket, grabbing a handful of smoke bombs. Very special smoke bombs.

Meanwhile, the Pokémon near them kept fighting ferociously, or at least Gligar and Weavile were, the sounds of their Steel Wing and Metal Claw clashes still clanking around. At the other side of the field, Electivire and Seviper laid on the ground, the former with a purple tinge in his face and blowing toxic bubbles, and the latter twitching on the ground with electricity. The mutual struggle had rendered them both unable to keep fighting or do anything to aid their allies.

'He's waiting for me to move first,' Gligarman thought. 'Fine, if that's how he wants to play.'

And thus, he threw a bomb at his feet to raise a smoke curtain, and ran around his foe as he kept throwing them one after another. Soon the combined smoke of all of them condensed into a thick cloud, so thick that they couldn't be seen to the naked eye.

"You think you can hide from me? This visor isn't just to look cool!" the Sniper shouted, evidently with indignation at such a simple trick.

"That's what I'm counting on!" Gligarman replied, still throwing the bombs to keep the smoke up.

Gligarman continued to circle around the Pride Sniper until he ran out of bombs. The hitman held his ground, aware of his foe's position the whole time, and waiting for him to make his move.

Once the blasts ceased in the middle of the smoke, the Pride Sniper saw how Gligarman's silhouette finally stopped running and charged right at him. Just as he expected; without missing a beat, he raised his knife to attack. No matter how much padding his suit had, he'd definitely cut through him up close…

But the knife didn't cut through any flesh. Instead, it only cut through a thick, floating purple fabric.

"WHAT?!"

"SURPRISE!"

And with that cry, a hand snatched his visor. The failsafe triggered again, but this time it didn't prevent it from being ripped off of his face, leaving his eyes exposed.

Exposed to a burning smoke.

"Argh!" He immediately started rubbing his eyes, trying to shake off the burn, but in doing so he let his guard down, unable to defend himself from the incoming beating.

Feeling a rush of adrenaline at his gambit paying off, Gligarman delivered a rain of punches to his face, ending with a kick to the abdomen that knocked him on his back. A calculated risk, but it had been worth it to get the upper hand.

Well, save for one small detail.

"Ah, I always liked this cape." He picked it up. Even as it had been torn almost in half, he still put it back on. "Alas, that was a small price to pay anyway."

At the same time, Gligar and Weavile had their final clash. Gligar flew through the dark weasel with a quick Steel Wing dive, and seconds later it slumped on the ground. The aerial scorpion flew until he perched back on his master's shoulder, full of cuts and with a frosty layer on some parts of the body, but he winked and raised his claw in what could easily be interpreted as the equivalent of a thumbs up.

"Well done," Gligarman congratulated him, as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and glared at the sniper still on the ground. "Now, I think it's time to end this game once and for all."

He walked slowly and cautiously towards him. While he doubted he'd get back up after such a beating, it wasn't worth it to take any more risks than necessary, after all the troubles they had caused them that night. But now, he'd put him away for good…

"DON'T MOVE!"

Or maybe not. Gligarman stopped when the Pride Sniper turned around brusquely. Even after he just tossed him some dirt at him, the vigilante quickly realized there was something else in his hand.

A detonator trigger, and his thumb was shaking on the button dangerously.

"I push this… we both blow up," he warned, getting back on his feet with some difficulty.

What the hell was that guy made of? Gligarman quickly reached his communicator and pressed it. "Watchcave…"

A few seconds later, his daughter finally answered. "It's not a bluff. He's got a full C4 charge strapped to his belt."

"One false step… and we're both history…" he hissed with an evil smirk.

Gligarman tensed. Was he so bent in avoiding capture, he'd blow himself and his foe up?

He also noticed something weird in him, now that he could see his eyes more clearly. There was something familiar in them. A glare full of hatred and evil he had not seen in many years.

In fact, the last time he had seen that particular glare, was when…

*TSEW!*

"Gligar!"

Gligarman turned in shock after he heard the shot, but his partner reacted before him. He was so focused on his opponent and trying to recall that glare, he didn't hear any approaching flapping. Gligar however sensed the danger and jumped to intercept it, and suddenly was enveloped in a blinding light… just to drop to the ground turned into a statue.

"Gligar, no!" the hero shouted, rushing after his Pokémon, and then realizing what was going on.

The woman riding over Salamence's back, Hunter J, had just arrived and was aiming her gauntlet at them as she landed near the Pride Sniper. He still held the trigger device in his hand, but had removed the thumb from the button and was more relaxed.

"You took your sweet time," he said.

"Quiet you, just hop in," she replied. "We've got to go now, that was my last capture bullet."

The Pride Sniper didn't need to be told twice, and immediately jumped on the dragon's back. Meanwhile, Gligarman tried to rush after them, but a strong wind current stopped him on his tracks, while the sniper and the hunter flew up into the air.

The camouflaged airship opened a lower hatch to let them in, and they vanished inside. Next, the invisible aircraft left the place at full engine, a sonic boom echoing behind it and leaving all knocked out Pokémon behind, as well as a disappointed hero holding his partner trapped like a statue.

"Curses…" Gligarman fell to his knees.

"Gligarman!" a voice called out behind him.

The veteran hero turned around and saw his younger allies approaching. Flamestorm in particular looked like he had run a marathon, Decid-Arrow was trying to hold back his motion sickness, and Flashstrika gave him some pats on the back, before he ran off to check on Electivire.

"I'm sorry," Gligarman apologized. "They slipped away, both of them."

The Night Watchers exchanged glances among each other, and then to him, unsure as to what to say. Then, a static sound on the communications channel went off.

" …ear me? Can you read me now?"

"Watchcave?" Decid-Arrow asked. "What happened? We lost you for a minute or so."

"Some sort of device disrupted the transmission. I tried to warn Gligarman that Hunter J and her airship were coming closer, but it seems he didn't hear me in time."

Gligarman exhaled. So that was why he didn't hear her coming.

"It wasn't your fault," the archer assured her. "Those two were far better prepared than we thought."

"No kidding," Flamestorm agreed, and then saw the petrified Gligar. "The Hunter did that again?"

"He took the shot for me," Gligarman explained. "Is he…"

"Rest easy, she did the same to me too," Flamestorm answered the unspoken question. "He's not dead, just trapped inside. But we better get him out. Believe me, it's not pretty in there."

"We should tell the police to come and pick up all this stuff," Decid-Arrow said, gesturing at the mess with the broken weapons and the defeated Pokémon laying around the field. "They could serve as evidence to track them."

Gligarman nodded. At the time, there was nothing left for them to do. He glanced up in the sky, where the ship had vanished, and frowned, feeling disappointed with himself. The criminals had slipped away, and they couldn't prevent Roberts from being shot. Their only victory, if he tried to look at any bright side that night, was to stop the Pokémon collection from being stolen.

He shook his head in denial. He really was getting old for the hero business.

----------------------------------------

Two days after…

With a lot of tension in the air, Latoya couldn't do anything but watch the report on the news channel. Right now they were giving a very detailed overview of the events around the assassination attempt on Roberts.

She listened carefully as the surgeon in charge of his operation gave his statement.

"…had it been one hour later, or if we didn't administer that serum to neutralize the alkaloid, I seriously doubt Mr. Roberts would have lived through this experience," Dr. Stiles said in a serious tone. "Never in my whole medical career did I feel so tense during an operation, or so relieved to have successfully completed it."

"What's Mr. Roberts' current condition?" the interviewer asked.

"Although we narrowly avoided the worst, aside from the bullet wounds, the damage the alkaloid caused will have serious repercussions in the long term," the doctor said with a grave voice. "It'll be a long time before he fully regains his motor functions, and he'll have to undergo months, maybe years of rehabilitation to do so."

The image then cut to the news studio, and the anchorwoman gave additional comments about it.

"It light of the recent events, an official announcement has been made that Roberts will not be running in the upcoming senator elections. His party is currently in the middle of an inner selection to determine who will substitute him. On a related note, the Goldenrod Police Commissioner, Giordanna Jenny, confirmed to our channel the rumors about an alleged collab operation between the police department and the group known as the Night Watchers, as well as the coming out of retirement of the famous vigilante known as Gligarman after decades of inactivity."

Latoya leaned forward as she heard that, also seeing how her father's Gligar symbol appeared on the screen next to the anchorwoman. Now it came to the part she was the most interested in.

Right after, appeared on screen the veteran police officer and her father's long-time ally in crimefighting. "I firmly believe that the events behind the attempt on Mr. Roberts will have dissipated any doubt among my officers. Gligarman supported me since my days as a rookie cop, and I trust his judgment. Now that trust extends to the Night Watchers as well, for without their crucial assistance, I am certain the results of our operation would have been much worse."

Inside, Latoya hated to admit that part, but she had to acknowledge that was true. Neither her father on his own (or even with her help), nor Oliver and his gang, nor the police department could have been able to face those criminals on their own. In the end, it all came down to a team effort, even if they couldn't get Roberts out of it unscathed.

But at least he was still alive and in one piece. That had to count for something.

"Gligarman's return and the announcement of the Night Watchers working alongside the police have brought out a wave of reactions from the general public, both in their favor and against them. One of the main opponents to this initiative is Mahogany Town's representative, Frederick Swietenia, who declared-"

*CLICK!* The TV suddenly muted, much to Latoya's surprise. The girl turned around and saw her father standing behind the couch, the remote control in his hand.

"Hey, the best part was about to start!" she protested.

"We don't need to hear rants from a big-mouthed extremist," Parker said as he walked around the couch to sit next to his daughter, who pouted slightly. "Don't give me that look; you know he is."

"He might be, but he does bring up valid points," she said. "Crimes perpetrated by Bloodliners have increased lately, some regulations could be useful."

"Crimes perpetrated against Bloodliners have also increased," Parker pointed out. "You know, I figured that working alongside Oliver and the others would have at least softened your stance about them."

Latoya looked away, but didn't say a word. Sure, working alongside those three, Bloodliners or not, had been a rather enlightening experience. Her father wanted her to see things from his perspective, specifically from the eyes of a hero who fought crime, as well as the others.

All the time during the operation, the Night Watchers were focused and determined on fulfilling their mission (barring Bart's occasional crack) and Latoya had no doubt they were as courageous and heroic as her father.

Still, she wasn't certain whether they'd be the exception or the rule among people with superpowers. After all in the comics, usually there were two dozen or so villains per every hero.

"About that," the girl suddenly recalled something she'd been meaning to ask for a while. "When you were fighting the Pride Sniper, there was a moment when you suddenly froze. I think it was when you removed his face visor?"

"You noticed?" Parker was surprised at that. "Well, there was something… something in his eyes. Something I hadn't seen in years… and it brought back my worst memory."

Latoya flinched. "You mean…"

"Yes… that night," Parker replied in a low voice.

Once again, Latoya remained silent, this time due to the chill going down her spine. The tale of her father's worst memory had been one of the darkest episodes in his superhero career, if not the darkest.

The image of a bunch of children beating their mother to death and then mercilessly dismembering her corpse was bone-chilling just with the tale. She couldn't imagine how it would be for him, having seen it with his own eyes.

"Do you think…?"

"If one of them were still alive, they'd probably be of that age," Parker said, answering what she was about to ask. "And come to think about it, the Pride Sniper seemed to talk as if we had met before."

"Wow…" Latoya simply said, too overwhelmed to add anything else. She immediately decided it was best to redirect the topic to something more pressing, so as to avoid tormenting her dad with those memories. "So… how's the criminal investigation going so far?"

"Even if they slipped away, the clues seem to point that, as we suspected, both were hired by the same person," Parker said, speaking more smoothly now he wasn't focusing on those dreadful memories. "Maybe they didn't know at first, so that's why their first attacks were separate. And good thing they were; we probably wouldn't have beaten them then."

"And what's the plan now?" Latoya asked with interest.

"Gio will continue to investigate, and she'll let me know if anything comes up. In the meantime, Oliver and his friends will take care of watching the streets when I'm not available."

"What are you talking about? Aren't you officially unretired now?"

"I am, but I won't be able to go out on the field every day." Parker smirked. "Not when I'll be training my new sidekick, and eventually successor to the mantle."

Latoya gasped slightly. Sidekick? Successor to the mantle? Did he mean…?

"You could see the world through the hero's eyes for the first time," Parker said, now speaking with the deeper tone he used as Gligarman. "Now you have a clearer idea of what awaits you out there, and you're ready to start training as it's due. And we'll be starting… tonight."

…

That evening was out of the norm at the Parker Mansion. For starters, Parker told his daughter after dinner to go fetch for some training garb and meet him at the house gym. Once there, he handed Latoya a pugil stick, so she could show him what she could do with it.

"Aaaahh! Yah! Haaah!" Latoya yelled as she sent a series of strikes to the face, torso, and knees, which her father easily deflected.

"You're using traditional attacks, surprise me!" said Parker.

"I'm trying!" the girl shouted as she tried to deliver a thrust to the stomach.

Parker spun to the side and crouched, and then he delivered a swing behind her ankles, making her fall backwards. Before she could get back on her feet, Parker pinned her with his own stick and kept her that way for a while, until she stopped struggling and gave up. With that, he threw the stick aside and offered a hand to help her back up.

"Is this really necessary, Dad?"

"Latoya, if you're going to help me out there, you better be aware of what you're getting into," said Parker. "You must always assume the criminals won't touch their hearts to get what they want, no matter if it's you or anyone else getting in their way."

"I know, I know." She shrugged. "Just… this is a really weird training."

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing. I want to be sure my sidekick is able to keep up with me, and trust her to watch my back in a pinch."

Latoya rolled her eyes. She didn't quite like the "sidekick" bit, but she'd have to get used to it. On top of that, her father wouldn't even let her try the suit he'd made for her, not even to check if it fit her. It was kind of depressing to see it through the glass case, unable to touch it, but her father told her she'd have to earn it through training. According to him, the hero made the suit, not the other way around.

Parker then brought some training gloves for punching practice, and handed her a pair, so the girl donned them immediately.

"Rule number one, punch as hard as you can," said Parker as he placed his gloved hands forward.

Latoya threw her punches. She didn't have much arm strength, but that could be fixed over time and with some training. Seeing her father didn't even flinch, she added more 'umph' to her punches, but her father's hands barely shook at her attempts.

"Rule number two. Now punch even harder."

He wanted more? Fine, she'd give him everything she had and more. She'd show him, she wouldn't back down with anything. Whatever he had in store for her training, she would complete it. There wasn't anything she couldn't expect from him.

Except for…

"Hey!" the girl yelled, when her father suddenly pulled back the right arm and threw a punch at her face, barely delaying it enough for her to duck under it. "What was that for?!"

"And rule number three. I make the rules," he said. "I never said I wouldn't attack you, did I? See, the second point of this exercise is seeing if you're ready for the unexpected."

Latoya sighed. It seemed like this would be harder than she thought. However, as if he had read her mind, her father approached and placed a gloved hand over her shoulder.

"Listen, my daughter. You're the most important thing I have in my life," he said. "For a long time, I didn't want you to get involved in this because I wasn't sure I could protect you. So at the very least, let me make sure you can protect yourself out there. Please, bear with me until then."

Latoya glanced at her father's concerned face. That look of his always made her heart melt, and there was no way she could refuse something to that. With another sigh of resignation, she nodded. She really wanted to help him, and he was willing to let her do so, as long as she could take care of herself. And of course, that he could trust her to watch his back when needed. With that in mind, both of them took their guard stance again.

"Let's do it again. A bit more power this time."

----------------------------------------

Far away from there, aboard Hunter J's airship…

Many times J had found herself dealing with clients who at the last minute tried to bail out and leave without paying for her services. Of course, doing that would warrant them paying a higher price, and she'd always make sure of it.

This time, however, the exact opposite happened: she technically failed her endeavor, yet her client contacted her to pay the rest of the sum he'd offered. She had no idea how to feel about that, but considering the numbers, that didn't matter much.

And it was better than that one time she took a job from the Bloodline King anyway.

"I did not expect that you had hired both of us at the same time," J commented on the bridge, as she talked through the communications' screen. The Pride Sniper was standing next to her, taking advantage of the lift she offered him for his help during that whole ordeal.

"Were you planning that for us join forces to give those vigilantes more trouble?" the assassin asked with interest.

"I admit it my intention was more to divide and conquer," the man on the other side of the screen replied. "But the fact that you guys worked together made everything turn out for the better in the end, so I'm not complaining."

"If it wasn't for those numbers, you might not be that happy," J said coldly. "I do not appreciate being used as a distraction when your real target was Roberts himself all along. I'd advice against trying to pull something like that again."

"Of course, Ms. J. As a token of apology, I hope you'll accept an additional bonus."

The console next to her beeped, and J popped up another screen, confirming the transaction. A half-smirk formed in the Hunter's lips once she saw the numbers: it had an additional 25%. The Hunter nodded and then closed the screen.

"As for me, Roberts is still alive," the Pride Sniper said. "Are you sure you want to pay me despite that?"

"Our contract stipulated that you just had to get Roberts out of my way, no matter how," the man replied. "Since he won't be able to run in the elections, your end of the deal has been fulfilled, ergo, I must fulfill mine. That's only fair, isn't it?"

J observed how the Pride Sniper raised an eyebrow at their mutual client's remark. It seemed that he, just like her, had his own reservations about the result of the events.

After all, if she was a Hunter and her business was to capture Pokémon, he was a contract assassin and his business was to kill people.

"You said it when we signed the contract. You valued trust above anything else in this world. So I'd be betraying your trust by not paying for your services."

"Maybe, but this'll look bad for my record," the Pride Sniper replied. He probably meant that he never had a target walking away alive.

"Think of it this way: you've just killed his entire political career. The way I see it, that's a fate worse than death, and it serves me just as well as having him six feet underground."

J and the Pride Sniper exchanged glances. Politicians could be terrifying when it came to deal with things getting in their way. Of course, they'd resort to people like the two of them to do the dirty job directly, but still, woe to whoever got in their bad side for any reason.

The Pride Sniper pulled out a Smartphone-like trinket from his pocket, and J was close enough to see the screen through the corner of her eye. The payment had just been transferred in various untraceable assets. Nodding, the hitman put it away and glanced at the main screen again.

"Pleasure in doing business with you, Mr. Swietenia. Or should I call you, future Senator Swietenia?"

"No need for that, that's still a long way to go. The pleasure was all mine. Now if you excuse me, I have duties to attend. Good evening to you both."

And thus, the politician ended the call, and the screen turned off. Neither J nor the Pride Sniper said any more words, nor did their expressions faze in the least. They were just focused on looking outside the airship's window as their flight continued.

"Ms. J, we're entering the borders of the Orre region," one of the bridge operators called out.

"Keep the course as planned, and try not to get detected," J said before glancing at the Pride Sniper. "We'll soon be reaching your stop."

"Home sweet home," the man replied with a half-sarcastic tone.

Although J couldn't help but notice a tinge of nostalgia mixed with the sarcasm. "What are you up to in this wasteland of a place, anyway?"

"Nothing special. I just made a habit of stopping by the place where I was born and raised after a successful job. Or rather, what's left of it, after I torched and blew the place up myself. So I can rub it in her face."

J didn't get the last part. "Rubbing what in whose face?"

"My dearest mother's," he said with an evil smirk. "She was the one who taught me how to use firearms. Said I had the best shooting aim among my brothers."

"Oh? So you were a prodigy marksman since your youth?" J snarked.

"I had to be, only that kept me alive," he replied bitterly. "My only regret is that I never had the chance to properly thank her. What I would have given for the chance to get a bullet into her brains."

J felt curious about that, trying to picture what kind of mother could have raised the Pride Sniper. He truly was a guy who deserved respect and to be afraid of. She hoped they never crossed paths on opposite sides.

"I don't care for those details, so why are you telling me this?"

"Nothing. Just that you earned my respect and I enjoyed working with you. Besides, it's not like you could use it against me, is it?" he replied nonchalantly, as he pulled out from under his suit a rusted iron chain, of which a large "D" letter made of the same material hanged.

J looked at it with mild interest. "'D'? What does that mean?"

"Descant. That used to be my old name, but I cast it away long ago. Now I'm just the Pride Sniper."

J smirked and once again faced forward. The rest of the journey continued in silence, although she had to admit it wasn't too bad having teamed up with this hitman. Better than many past associates anyway.

And for the same reason she couldn't wait to drop him off in his destination. That way she could go back to her business as fast as possible, as in working only with subordinates and not with equals. It was much safer for her that way.

FIN.

----------------------------------------

OMAKE (by Crossoverpairinglover):

The day was saved!

VILLAINY was vanquished!

It left only one thing really, for the spectacular, the amazing, GLIGARMAN to do!

Educate the next generation, with the wisdom only a seasoned and state of the art mind could produce!

"…To summarize the lesson, when you find yourself with a powerful fanboy with too much time and power on his hands, in particular if he originated from another dimension and thus can bend reality the way a chef would bend dough for a cookie platter of pure madness, the best thing you can do is keep the fanboy calm. Do not play along and let him get excited, but do not let him get bored. Definitely do not bore him: as that will only lead him to make his own fun. And that is no fun at all."

This unfathomably valuable pearl of wisdom, pure as the snow and as fresh as mountain spring water, was eagerly received by his three students, the NEXT GENERATION OF HEROES!

"Understood. To think that such horrible creatures could exist."

Decid-Arrow's declaration was met by a curt nod from Gligarman, as definitive as the word of law!

"And yet such archfiends of crime are not the only menace a costumed knight of JUSTICE must be prepared for my young Kricketot! The wicked spirits of the spirit world are just as bad, if not worse, as anything. I've occupied enough of your time today, so I'll cover them next time and show you the techniques I have to battle the unyielding spirits of the d…."

Before Gligarman could get in a word in edgewise, the space behind him SHOOT, and SPUN, and finally CRACKED!

CRACKED in a sound like broken glass, as a line formed in the air from nothing!

The three Bloodliner heroes jumped up in preparation to meet this unknown, but Gligarman held up a palm.

"At ease! I recognize this, and while it is a few lessons ahead in our curriculum, it is something you should be prepared for. For there is nothing as common, as frequent, yet as utterly and crucially important, as what we seem about ready to embark upon."

At these sagely words the door opened up wide, wide enough for bus, and plane, and blimp, as a single figure stepped forward.

He dwarfed them, dwarfed them like a Charizard did a Wartortle. His dress was dated, severe, and gray. Gray as the beard that wrapped around his chin, billowing like the smoke of an ancient locomotive.

As he exhaled from his nostrils, light smoke danced from them, like within him was a burning furnace. But to what would the furnace be put to use for?

"Well, as I live and breathe. It has been a while, Thomas T. H. Umba."

The now identified man nodded in acknowledgement, his beard shimmering like smoke in the wind.

"Who?"

Yes who, the question was raised. Who was this man, identified by such a strange title?

"You ask my identity, and as I do not keep a secret identity when I cross the fabric of worlds I will comply. I am the Living Locomotive, the Man made Train. A member of the Benevolence Society, I am the Train Man. I am bestowed with the limitless and unfathomable power of trains."

The old man dramatically held a finger in the air, his index finger.

"Behold, this finger now bares the full force of a modern locomotive. Be poked by it, and feel its power."

"No thanks…"

"He's a hero from a very different universe. A world without Pokémon even, unfathomable is it is. Tell me though, why do you come for me?"

"The universe enters a period of crisis. The Obsidian King is woke! He has aligned with the pixelated one that haunts your universe region, the Missing Number! The Benevolence Society gathers allies to combat the greatest threat to the universes! A gathering of the greatest men and women: the Sun Gunner, the Perfected Secretary, the Confiscator of Faith, all gather at the beck and call of us and our leader, the God of New England, to do justice? Tell me, will you four join us in justice!?"

No word was needed to answer, for all were standing.

All were moving.

The portal was crossed, and the room was filled with silence! Silence as the next and best adventure of our heroes begins! A lesson even more valuable than to fear the bored reality warping fan!

For every hero must be ready for the inevitable: the crossover.

The Crisis Crossover.

…

NEXT MONTH, THE STORY YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

THE OBSIDIAN COVENANT!

ALPHA!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

OMEGA!

RESERVE COPIES TODAY, and ALSO READ THE VITAL TIE-IN BOOKS

The Train Man: 64-65

Wayne the Sun Gun: 24-26

Theron Dodekantheon, the Benevolence Leader: 70-72

Benevolence Society: 50-53

Benevolence Society Secret Operations: 15

Benevolence Society New York: 24-27

Benevolence Society Chicago: 22

Auburn Hall, Succubus: 14

Secular the Faith Man: 18-20

Gligarman: 66-70

Gligirl: 15-17

Night Watchers, the Trio of Justice: 10-12

Decid-Arrow: 5-7

Flashstrika: 5-7

Flamestorm: 5-7

Blaziken Mask: 11

The Black Arachnid: 8-10

The Mighty Accelguard: 14

Taisune: 24

MissingNo: 0

NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME!

Come next year for the next event book.