The Lake of Rage, April 21st, 2007
“We’ll head out tomorrow.”
Lucario turned to Ash, dissatisfaction playing across his eyes. In response, Ash rolled his own, “We’ve been travelling for nearly two weeks now. It’s necessary to have a bit of break before doing this.”
Lucario huffed, crossing his arms, before giving a reluctant nod of assent, though it was clear that he disagreed.
Ash sighed, staring at the sky as fractures of energy slashed through the atmosphere. While the Storm was currently centred at Pokémon Island, its effects reached every corner of the world.
Ash and Lucario stood on a stone ledge overlooking the Lake of Rage, their camp five minutes behind them. It was moments like this that brought a sense of unreality to Ash, for the lake was perfectly still, perfectly serene, perfectly peaceful.
If one were to walk by the lake, they would never guess that just underneath it was one of - if not - the final hiding places of Team Source. Then again, nobody had the luxury to go on a relaxing stroll anymore. To do so invited a surprise attack by one of the many dangers that abounded.
Still, Ash could at least appreciate the lake’s veneer of beauty. For all that was truly the same, at least he didn’t see the ruined cities and shattered valleys that littered the world.
Lucario uttered a short bark, pointing to the horizon. Ash unclipped a pair of binoculars from his belt to get a better look at what the jackal was pointing at.
After adjusting the binoculars, Ash saw the side of a distant hill shaking as if a localised earthquake hit that area. The shaking paused as clouds of dust puffed out of a small rift, which slowly began to open as the hillside split apart to reveal the hidden entrance to Team Source’s base.
A figure emerged from the entrance, wearing dark colours that made them blend well with the light of dusk. He extended a hand to the sky, holding a small metal orb.
Suddenly, the winds around Ash began to pick up speed as the ball began to spiral midair, sucking in the nearby air and the static Source Energy it carried. Ash could see Lucario clenching his teeth as the energy seeped through his veins, warring against the restraints placed upon him, which prevented him from uncontrollably evolving.
Ash remained perfectly still as the winds roared around him, never taking his gaze off of the individual holding up the sphere. After what seemed like several minutes, the winds began to die down, and the individual in the distance brought down the sphere, placing it in a metal box.
The individual turned, beginning to trek back to the hidden entrance, before they paused. The individual turned their head across the lake, towards the pair. While Ash knew that, realistically, it was impossible for the individual to see them from that distance, he swore that the individual smirked at him before descending back into the depths of the hillside.
Ash brought down the binoculars as the hidden entrance closed, frowning at what just occurred. From what he could tell, the small device that the individual used seemed to absorb Source Energy, storing it for later study or use. While Ash knew that Team Source had created such devices, they had previously taken up a whole room’s worth of space, and didn’t reach nearly as far as the distance across the lake.
Perhaps there was a breakthrough?
Ash shook his head. It didn’t matter to him. He’d get his answers tomorrow when he raids the base. Though, he would have to make sure to grab the item before engaging in battle, lest it get destroyed in the conflict.
That was why he was up here. He was getting a lay of the land, noting where and how the members of Team Source got in and out of the base. He was aware that they expected him to come soon, and they probably expected him to use the entrance on the side of the hill. In fact, Ash wouldn’t be surprised if the individual from earlier deliberately telegraphed its position by coming out in perhaps the most unsubtle way possible.
However, if there was one thing that Ash had learned over the past three years, it was that it was prudent to plan before he acts. While he got away with acting gung-ho as a child, disregarding the life-ending dangers he faced on a monthly basis, that now could and would get him killed.
Because of this, Ash learned to be deceitful in his actions, showing off a false front while he stabbed them in the back. He was aware that they had laid a trap for him… and he planned to spring it.
Not directly, of course. Such would be suicide. No, he had Greninja preparing a small army of Substitutes to meet those who waited at that entrance.
Ash eyed the lake, humming to himself. While Team Source dealt with defending their front entrance, Ash would merely step in through the back door. At least figuratively.
When Ash and his remaining friends arrived at the Lake of Rage a few days ago, he had swam to the bottom of the lake on a hunch. After poking around at the bed of the lake, Ash found a small groove of stone that seemed to be artificially modified. Upon closer inspection, Ash determined that it was a water entrance for the compound to have a source of drinking water.
Thankfully, it was just large enough for Ash to squeeze through. As such, he planned to use that to break into the base while the Substitutes kept its defenders busy.
Lucario tugged on Ash’s shirt, pointing back to camp. Casting one last look at the hillside, which now remained an indiscreet landmass, Ash followed Lucario down the hill, stepping over a few discarded stones as he did so.
Making it back to camp, Ash saw the rest of his pokémon training in silence. Greninja synthesised a considerable pile of plush dolls to his side, stitching them together with the speed and care of an expert craftsman. Charizard was practising a relatively new technique of controlling his flames mid-flight, which was a skill taken from Ninetales and the Fennekin line. Pikachu was cleaving through stone with Iron Tail , seemingly working on precision by carving out a sculpture of himself.
All of them had deathly serious gazes, which served as a sign of how anxious they were of the upcoming battle. It was like that for every battle against The Chariot, as there was always a very real likelihood that not all of them would come out alive.
Ash scowled upon thinking about that. There was a feeling in his gut that The Chariot was here, waiting. A part of him even wondered if he had been the one to come out of the compound earlier.
Regardless, he walked to the other side of camp with Lucario, crouching down next to the jackal as the pokémon inspected a small sapling.
With the precision of a surgeon, Lucario slashed his claws against the thin wood, crisscrossing a series of lacerations that bled green against brown.
Then, the jackal turned to Ash, beckoning him forward to demonstrate the next move that the jackal was teaching Ash. It had been slow progress, but Lucario had eventually taught Ash how to use Aura Sphere semi-reliably, along with some other fighting-type moves. Over the last few weeks, Lucario shifted his focus to teaching Ash more support-based moves, starting off with Heal Pulse .
Ash leaned next to Lucario as the jackal extended his paws, closing his eyes as twirling psychic energies twined from the pokémon’s heart down through its arms and into its paws. Ash closed his eyes and reached out with his aura to feel the energy used, memorising the feel of healing energies dancing across his skin, the pulse of his heart beating in tandem with Lucario’s, the will of the jackal’s mind focused on healing the sapling.
Ash opened his eyes to see the sapling repaired, its leaves shining brighter than before.
Upon seeing this, Lucario sat up and moved a few metres away to find another, beckoning Ash to follow. Upon kneeling next to the other sapling, Lucario once more slashed into its wood, revealing a green wound for Ash to heal.
As Ash reached out to attempt the move, Lucario placed his paws on the back of Ash’s hands, directing a miniscule amount of energy into them.
Ash felt for the energy, using it as a basis for the move. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, directing his will, directing his aura towards the sole purpose of healing.
Ash grit his teeth as he began to feel a headache, his heart ringing in his ears. Multiple times, Ash felt his focus waver, though Lucario was there to redirect it back to the sapling.
After a moment, Ash felt the paws lift from his hands. Opening his eyes, Ash saw the final remnants of psychic energy recede back into his heart. His hands buzzed as he examined the sapling, now healed - though not with the same lustre as Lucario’s sapling.
A pleased grunt brought Ash’s attention to Lucario, who stood smiling next to him. As Ash stood up, Lucario slashed once more, this time making a small incision on his arm.
Ash’s face screwed up in displeasure - he didn’t like seeing his pokémon hurt themselves, even if it was for training - but it was a necessary component to learning the move. What use would it be, after all, if he could not use it to help his friends.
Ash stepped forward, extending his hands to the wound, this time without Lucario’s help. Recalling the feel from his mind, his will, his heart, Ash extended his aura towards the wound. A small bead of sweat appeared on his brow by the time a firm set of paws tapped Ash on his shoulders. Opening his eyes, Ash saw that the cut was healed, and his hands were tinted a slight glowing pink, before receding into small sparks of light.
Ash looked up to see Lucario giving him a wide grin, barking several times in jubilation. Ash chuckled along, glad that the previous oppressive atmosphere had been lifted, even if only for a moment.
Upon hearing the joyous cries of Lucario, the other pokémon wandered towards them, watching in mild confusion as Lucario gave a little victory dance. In a world of dying aura, it was always a great victory for Lucario to pass on his skills in the subject, however small the impact may be.
Ash smiled, looking towards the lake, glittering against the coming moonlight. He could only hope that each of his friends would make it. But in his heart, a small pool of dread began to build as he wondered what the Chariot had in store this time.
…
Champion’s Office, Indigo Plateau, September 8th, 1997
Lance rubbed the crust away from his eyes, cursing whatever deities and gods who were listening for sticking him with the role of Champion.
“I’ve already told you, Mr. Goodshow. I have a prior obligation that I cannot miss,” He said, exacerbated.
“This is an important summit, Lance! We can’t have the Indigo Champion snubbing the Sinnoh region when reconnection talks are almost finalised!” Charles Goodshow, Head of the World League, shouted madly in Lance’s X-Transceiver.
“You can do so without me being physically present,” Lance replied patiently. At least, he hoped it sounded patient, because his patience died long ago .
“But it sends the wrong message!” Goodshow exclaimed, trying in vain to convince the Indigo Champion, “Steven has already made arrangements to go, why can’t you?”
A vein pulsed in Lance’s forehead. He growled out, “I’ve already agreed with the elders to return to Blackthorne for our clan meeting.”
“Can’t you reschedule that?” Goodshow asked, sounding a bit like a petulant child, “You are the Champion. You should be able to tell them to wait.”
Lance grit his teeth and closed his eyes, repeating the calming mantras taught by the elders, lest he lash out at this ignorant twit.
Deep breathes, Lance. You’ve dealt with him for two years now. No need to further ruin your relationship with one of the most influential men in the world.
“Champion I may be,” Lance began in a slow, deliberate voice, “It is the code to respect the elders, for they are learned and I am young.”
Goodshow huffed, clearly unimpressed, “If that’s the case, could you ask them to reschedule it?”
Lance stayed silent for a moment before muttering, “I will.”
Goodshow still looked disgruntled, but was satisfied enough with the answer, “I do hope you are able to make it, Lance. You are the region’s finest trainer, after all.”
And now he’s trying to butter me up. “Thank you, though I doubt that claim.”
“Oh?” Goodshow coughed, “Is there a potential challenger for the position, then?”
Lance almost snorted. It was well-hidden, but Lance could tell that Goodshow already looked forward to the day that Lance was replaced, “No, Mr. Goodshow. Not yet. I was merely recalling a lesson from the elders.”
“Ah,” Goodshow slumped back, “Something along the lines of ‘never assume you’re the best,’ I take it?”
“Yes,” Lance replied simply, recalling his horror at seeing the recording of the Battle of Rage saved within the clan’s archives.
Goodshow remained silent, before murmuring, “That’s good advise, I suppose,” He peered back towards Lance, “And it may be true. I’ve heard that Sinnoh’s new Champion is rather strong herself! She might be enough to give you a challenge, eh?”
And now he’s trying to bribe me with a good battle. “I’ll check with the elders to see if I can make it, but don’t plan on it,” Lance said in a fatalistic tone, “Was there anything else.”
Goodshow frowned at Lance’s words, but waved his hand away, “That’s all for now. I have a summit to plan and I presume you have your own duties,” He reached to end to transmission, “Have a good day, Champion.”
After Goodshow closed the transmission, Lance allowed himself to lean back with a groan. It had been a week and a half since the power surge swept across the world, and the League was no closer to determining the source of the activity.
Lance was immensely grateful that it happened at the beginning of the new Conference Season, rather than towards the end. Lorelei had barely left her study outside of using the restroom, and Lance wondered if she would even register any challengers who came forth to fight her as the first Elite 4 member.
Of course, he could just reassign Bruno to be the first - the man would definitely welcome any and all challengers. Will might also appreciate being placed upfront, though it was hard to tell with the man, given how he over exaggerated his emotions on every little thing.
Lance didn’t dare touch Agatha’s position with a 100-metre pole.
On top of everything else, there was some trouble with Team Rocket about a week before at the Viridian City Pokémon Center. He had already sent a squad of rangers to the forest south of town to neutralise an aggressive Spearow flock, so he really wasn’t pleased when he heard about another disaster occuring at the same time.
Thankfully, just as Lance was mounting his Dragonite to personally deal with the threat, he received a message that the situation had already been handled, by some kid and his Pikachu, no less.
That wasn’t it, though. There were also the near-constant reports coming from Pewter Gym about the Gym Leader, Brock. In Lance’s opinion, the kid had no business being a Gym Leader, both with having to manage one of the most accessible Gyms while managing a family of.. What was it, ten? Twelve?
He couldn’t necessarily blame it on the teenager, though. The poor kid didn’t even get the opportunity to go on his journey, instead having to take care of a family. If the kid’s father didn’t return soon to assume his duties as Gym Leader, then Lance would be forced to find a replacement.
Lance sighed, once more cursing whatever deities and gods who were listening for sticking him with the role of Champion.
Lance was interrupted in his brooding by the sounds of his X-Transceiver vibrating. Picking it up, he saw that he was receiving a call from Clair.
Lance answered the call, connecting the X-Transceiver to the monitor on his desk as Clair appeared, smirking in a way that no-one should so early in the morning, “Good morning, cousin!”
Lance closed his eyes and rubbed them, asking, “Could this have waited, Clair?”
“Nope,” She responded, all peppy and cheerful. Lance almost reeled back in horror when he realised that his cousin was drinking coffee .
“How long have you been awake?” Lance asked, dreading the answer.
Clair scrunched her eyebrows, highlighting the subtle bags under her eyes, “...Maybe 24 hours?”
Lance just stared at her as she squirmed, “It’s my off-day, alright?!”
Lance sat back and sighed, sadly used to his younger cousin’s antics, “What’s got you in a tizzy this time?”
Clair huffed, not appreciating her cousin’s condescension. She glared at him for a moment before grumbling, “Someone beat me…”
Lance arched an eyebrow, slightly incredulous that this was the thing that got Clair in such a mood, “So? Isn’t that good?”
“Not when it’s his first Gym badge!” Clair snapped back, “That’s never happened before!”
It hasn’t?
“I thought you don’t allow anyone without at least four badges to challenge the Gym,” Lance muttered, feeling a bit too tired for her nonsense.
She waved a hand away, “Technically, I do. I just treat them as if they’ve already earned four badges.”
“And no-one’s ever beaten you?” Lance asked sceptically.
Clair faltered, “Well… a few have,” She jumped back up, “But they already had two or three badges! This guy had none!”
Lance blinked, “I still don’t see the point-”
“He did it with a frog, a Pichu, and a Charmander.”
Lance blinked again, allowing his brain to catch up with what she said, “What was the team you used?”
Clair leaned back, seemingly satisfied at having Lance’s attention, “A Vibrava, one of the newly evolved Kingdra, and a Dragonair.”
As Clair listed off her pokémon, Lance’s eyes grew wider, “You’re saying he beat that team with a Charmander, a Pichu , and… what, a frog?”
“Yeah,” Clair confirmed, jittering in her seat, “And he said that he planned on completing the Gym Circuit in time for the Silver Conference in December.”
“He has his work cut out for him,” Lance replied, still thinking about what he had heard. The Kingdra alone should have been able to sweep the team she described. “Do you have a recording of the battle?”
Clair nodded, slumping back, “ Yesss . I’ve been watching the damn thing to try to understand just how he did it!”
“What do you mean?” Lance asked, opening a blank file on his computer.
“He’s obviously an experienced trainer. Even if he doesn’t have a single badge to his name, he obviously has a ton of experience,” Her face turned red in a mixture of fury and slight admiration, “He didn’t even give any verbal commands to that Pichu of his, and that thing took down my Kingdra…”
Meanwhile, as Clair rambled, Lance listened with growing shock. This was the man’s first Gym badge? He had assumed when Clair started talking that the man had some from Kanto, Hoenn, or even a region outside of the World League. And also, the Kingdra - Clair’s Ace - was taken down by a Pichu?
Did this guy roid up his pokémon?
“Clair,” Lance called out, interrupting her spiel, “What’s this man’s name?”
“Red,” Clair replied immediately, an odd lilt in her voice, “Red Satoshi. He comes from Melemele Island, wherever that is.”
Lance thought for a moment before saying, “I believe that’s in Alola.”
Clair shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. The point is that I think this guy is going places.”
Lance nodded absentmindedly as he perused the trainer database for his name. After a moment, he found a registration application from ten days ago, submitted from Silver Town, along with a report he hadn’t read from the Nurse Joy of that town.
Upon reading the report, Lance’s eyes shot up even higher, “Clair, you didn’t recognise his frog pokémon, correct?”
“Yeah,” Clair confirmed.
“I have a report from Nurse Joy in Silver Town that this frog pokémon was apparently won in an auction in Olivine City,” Lance hummed, “She also believes the pokémon to be Kalosian in origin.”
Clair groaned, “And I was starting to like the guy, Lance. Why Kalos ?”
As Champion, political correctness dictated that he defend the nation. But his ties with the Blackthorne clan prevented him from doing so. Instead, he continued reading the report, “She also says that his Charmander - wait a minute - his Charmander has a blue tail flame?!”
Clair snapped her fingers, her previous brooding mood forgotten, “Oh right! I forgot to tell you about that!”
Lance stewed for a moment, both wondering about the implications of what he read and the depths of airheadedness his cousin descended to when talking to anyone outside of her Gym duties, “You forgot to tell me that this trainer owned a Charmander with a blue tail flame? You are aware of what that could mean, right?”
Clair opened her mouth to respond, then stopped to think for a moment, then flushed when she realised that she didn’t know, then shook her head meekly in response.
Lance rolled his eyes, “You ought to pay attention to the elders, dear cousin,” Taking pity on her as she seemed to imitate a Shuckle, Lance explained, “There’s a high likelihood that this mystery trainer has somehow obtained a draconic variant of a Charmander.”
There was a pause, then Clair shot up like a bullet, “What!? You mean he’s a dragon trainer?!”
Lance began to sweat when he saw the stars in her eyes. That was more than a little worrying for his future health. “We don’t know for certain. If I recall correctly, the last documented Charmander that bore a blue tail flame was from the Draconid clan nearly a century ago. I’ll ask the elders when I come in a few weeks.”
“No need! I’ll ask them!” Clair scrambled to get up, completely disregarding to turn off the X-Transceiver she left. Lance called after her, knowing what her definition of ‘asking’ was, and sat back resigned as she ignored him.
After a moment, Lance closed the transmission. He ran a hand through his hair as he realised that yet another thing has been added to his ever-expanding plate. This wasn’t even necessarily due to him being Champion, it was just from trying to manage his cousin as she ran off towards the latest shiny object that caught her attention.
Though, he hasn’t ever seen her so passionate about another trainer before. Especially one she just met.
That was odd, but Lance wasn’t quite prepared to unpack that. Instead, Lance grumbled as he read through the rest of Red’s admittedly small file. Afterwards, he gave his signature and sent it to Lorelei to handle the bureaucratic side of League registration. Of course, this was assuming that she even saw it in the first place, given how deep in research she was at the moment.
Lance sat back, weighing the pros and cons of going back to bed and skipping out of his morning duties. Before he decided to just skip out and sleep, though, an alert buzzed on his monitor, alerting him to some other emergency that he needed to fix.
Lance sighed as he walked towards his window, calling upon his Dragonite who was down below. It was times like this that he cursed whatever deities and gods who were listening for sticking him with the role of Champion.
He cursed rather loudly.
…
Route 44
Red watched closely as Pichu tried and failed to use Iron Tail on some grass.
Of course, Pichu argued for practising on some nearby rocks. Red shot that down, though, pointing out how Pichu would just injure his tail if he failed.
That didn’t stop his oldest friend from trying, though. Red endured a number of minor sparks as he pulled the small mouse away from the rocks, literally kicking and screaming.
Red made sure to spend most of his time training with Pichu over the past few days. Froakie had already adapted pretty well to his new form, practising ways to use his small size to his advantage, while Charmander… actually, Red wasn’t entirely certain what was going on with the lizard.
Charmander seemed to flip back and forth between his previous aggressive personality and an excessively meek countenance that did not fit with Red’s view of the beast. One moment, Charmander was acting as he always did, barely regarding Red’s command as he attacked like a brutal god. The next moment, Charmander seemed to move on autopilot, his eyes staring forward as if nothing was there.
It was at those points that Red ended his training with Charmander, as he let the small lizard sit in front of the campfire, staring ahead. He had been slightly worried when this behaviour started shortly after leaving Blackthorne City, but Froakie physically held him back when he tried to approach Charmander at these times.
He wondered about that.
When Charmander did train, he largely focused on improving his control over fire. While the small lizard’s physical capabilities were still rather impressive, his fire attacks left something to be desired.
Pichu, meanwhile, was training until he dropped. Red had to step in at several points when Pichu’s injuries became too great. While he had stocked up on some potions using his winnings from the battle ring and the Gym, he still had a finite amount.
As Red watched Pichu spittle in rage over his tail not working again, Red thoughts turned to something else.
Why did they devolve?
His initial thought had been that they reverted to the forms they had been in at this time of their lives. But that didn’t hold water.
First off, at this point, Pichu had long been a Pikachu. Additionally, Charmander looked nothing like he did when Ash found him. Red wasn’t even sure if Froakie was born at this point.
He even asked Froakie, and the frog just shrugged.
Additionally, unless the time-travel affected humans differently than pokémon - which, upon thinking, it probably did - Red should be ten years old.
Another theory that Red had was intriguing. Considering that Source Energy itself was evolution energy, he wondered if his pokémon got in contact with some sort of anti-Source Energy, or maybe just got hit in the opposite direction?
That headache was back. It had plagued him since emerging from Mount Silver. After a moment, it subsided, allowing Red to return to his thinking.
Since Source Energy caused pokémon to evolve, even past their natural state, wouldn’t that make the opposite true? If an abundance of Source Energy caused pokémon to evolve, then perhaps a lack of Source Energy would cause them to devolve.
Red rubbed his forehead as he thought about this. He was never particularly gifted in this type of thinking. He largely flourished in battle, as shown by him surviving the worst of the Storm.
Did this mean he would actively have to push Source Energy onto them just for them to evolve back into their previous forms?
Red shook his head firmly at the thought. He wouldn’t risk such an action, even if it had the possibility of strengthening his pokémon. In his experience, messing with Source Energy was almost always lethal. He’d choose having his pokémon remain in these forms over potentially killing them any day.
Even if Pichu threw a fit about it once every hour.
Besides, he didn’t know this for certain. If they were lucky, it was just something else he couldn’t think of, and they would be back to normal soon enough.
Still, he had to plan around their newfound weaknesses going forward. Charmander was no longer the tank he was as Charizard and Froakie no longer had the dark-type specialties he had as Greninja. Pichu had the worst of the lot, as Red was coming to realise just how limited Pichu was in terms of strength.
Pichu could theoretically reach the same power output he had as a Pikachu. It would just kill him, plain and simple.
Red refrained from sighing as he took out his quickly expanding notebook. He had to make a plan for Mahogany Gym, especially after the surprises he faced against Clair. If she held to her word, the rest of the Gym Leaders would have likely heard of him by now, and after hearing about him going against Clair’s 5-Badge team, they likely wouldn’t allow him to fight anything lower than that.
Still, he had faith that his pokémon would pull through. They had faced worse odds in the past ( future? ), and he knew they would have to face new challenges going forward.
…
Mahogany Gym, September 12th, 1997
Red stepped to the podium as the noise from the crowd began to steadily rise. While the turnout to the Gym match was significantly smaller than that of Blackthorne City, it was no less enthusiastic as the denizens of the town came out to support their venerated Gym Leader.
Pryce stood across the arena, which was covered in ice, standing upright with the support of his cane. He regarded the challenger with an icy glare before speaking out, “You are here for my 5th Badge Challenge, is that correct?”
Yeah, he expected nothing less . “I am,” Red replied.
Pryce nodded, not taking his eyes off the challenger, “Then let us begin.”
The referee stepped to his podium at the side of the arena, “Challenger Red Satoshi of Melemele Island has challenged Pryce Hagel of Mahogany Town to a 5-Badge Gym Battle! This will be a 3-on-3, with no switching being allowed after a pokémon faints! Gym Leader Pryce will begin by sending out his pokémon!”
Pryce regarded Red carefully before silently sending out a pokéball. In a burst of light, a sea lion pokémon flopped onto the ice bed.
As the referee announced to the crowd what the pokémon was, Red whispered to Pichu, “He’s all yours.”
Pichu grinned, small sparks tingling against Red’s cheek. The small mouse hopped down to stare across the battlefield, eyeing the Dewgong with violence in his eyes.
Pryce stared coldly at the small mouse, commanding the Dewgong to use, “ Aqua Ring .”
As the sea lion called forth thin rings of glowing water, Pichu rushed forward, gaining speed in a frantic Volt Tackle .
Pryce’s eyes widened when he saw Pichu barreling towards Dewgong. He rounded onto his pokémon, “ Dive away!”
The Dewgong took only a moment’s hesitation before dropping the Aqua Ring to dive within the ice. However, before it could get more than halfway within the ice sheet, Pichu rammed into its tail, causing the Dewgong to cry out as it was ejected by the electrical force.
Before the Dewgong could move, Pichu grappled onto its fins, glowing yellow as it prepared one final Discharge . Upon seeing this, Pryce’s face turned grim, and he commanded, “ Perish Song .”
Red winced as the Dewgong sang a disparaging melody mixed in with its cries of pain. He shook himself as the sea lion slumped over, fainted in record time. Pichu hopped off the pokémon, wobbling slightly from both the electrical output and the withering effects of the song.
Across the arena, Pryce hummed to himself as he recalled the Dewgong, “It seems that Ms. Blackthorne wasn’t exaggerating about your Pichu. It’s rather aggressive.”
Red nodded distractedly as he watched in concern as Pichu began to slap itself in order to stay conscious. It took a moment to realise that Pryce had yet to bring out his next pokémon, instead waiting for the full minute given to switch pokémon in order to allow the Perish Song to have maximum effect.
Sneaky bastard.
Red looked across the way to see Pryce giving a small smirk, twirling his next pokéball around his fingers. The old man eyed Red in the eye before giving a slightly larger smile, turning towards those in the audience who began to boo him, “You all call this unfair, yet the young man across from me says nothing,” His eyes turned even colder than before, “Unlike you, he understands that in a real battle, there is no honour, no code binding one to an artificial set of rules. You take whatever advantages you can.”
With that, the timer reached 0:00, and Pryce sent forward his next pokémon, “Piloswine.”
Red’s mind thought rapidly, considering that Pichu only had the opportunity for one move before fainting. He thought over Pryce’s words, ignoring its resemblance to one of the Chariot’s many mad speeches, and called out, “ Taunt! ”
Pichu heard, and in one heaving breath stuck out his tongue and began loudly spewing spit at the Piloswine, stomping around in clumsy motions mimicking the towering mammoth.
Upon seeing this, the Piloswine ignored Pryce’s commands to Hail , and instead began charging up towards Pichu in a Take Down .
Upon seeing this, Red gave a cold smile and commanded Pichu, “Brace yourself!” Knowing that, while Pichu was about to faint, he was still physically strong enough to tank a few hits.
It was only from the decade’s worth of trust in his trainer that Pichu obeyed, curling into himself in a mimicry of Defense Curl before being knocked away by the mass of charging mammoth that slammed into him.
Red watched in silent relief as one of the aide rushed to where Pichu’s unconscious form was, taking him to the Pokémon Center. Red turned back to see the Piloswine stomping on the ground in agitation, ignoring the bruises it received from its ill-advised attack.
Not seeing any reason to wait and allow the Taunt to lose its effect, Red sent out Froakie, commanding him to immediately, “ Quick Attack into Water Gun !”
“Meet it with Tackle !” Pryce called out, changing his strategy due to the lingering effects of Taunt .
Piloswine snorted a breath of frost before charging towards the speeding frog. The two met, creating a small shockwave, before Froakie shot a Water Gun in Piloswine’s face.
The mammoth grunted in pain before bucking off Froakie with Thrash . Upon seeing this, Pryce sighed and commanded the Piloswine, “Stay on top of it!”
“Keep away from it and use Water Gun on its sides!” Red called out.
Froakie nodded mid-jump, dodging another attack from the beast. The frog hopped throughout the battlefield, never staying too close or too far, continuously shooting Piloswine’s sides with Water Guns .
This lasted for a minute, before Piloswine’s previous enraged expression gave way to a trembling countenance. Upon seeing this, Pryce stepped forward, “ Endure! ”
The Piloswine steeled itself, planting its hooves into the ice, before giving a pained screech as Froakie landed one last Water Gun onto its backside. However, the mammoth remained standing, and as Froakie prepared the finishing blow, Pryce’s voice rang out, “ Hail! ”
As if it had been holding a sneeze in for the last several minutes, the mammoth snorted, the air released from its nostrils beginning to spiral around him in a growing snowstorm as it collapsed once and for all.
As Red watched this with growing dread, Pryce’s lips twitched as he grumbled, “That damn Pichu really threw a wrench into things,” He took out his last pokéball, “I suppose even the weakest pokémon have their uses.”
Red bristled at that, but remained silent as Pryce regarded him through the streaks of hail and ice. The old man’s features began to be obscured in shades of white and grey as he called out, “Sneasel, it’s time to end what we started.”
Red couldn’t even see the pokémon emerge within the din of ice and snow. The raging winds began to obscure the sounds of the crowd as flashes of glowing blue snow, spires of void, shards of shrapnel, the crimson gaze, the Source Storm-
Greninja bleeding red as the tears across his back dig into his bone.
Charizard barely breathing surrounded by a halo of torn wings.
Pikachu gasping and limping as the storm around them closes in-
“SIR!”
Red snapped back to reality as his aide yelled to get his attention. As his focus reoriented to the surroundings, he saw that the hailstorm had lessened ever so slightly, allowing him to see Pryce’s carefully blank look as he stared across to Red.
With a faint blush creeping to his neck, Red turned to his aide, murmuring apologetically, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
His aide’s sharp look softened a tiny amount before nodding downwards, “Your pokémon fainted.”
Red turned to see Froakie being picked up by another group of aides. He was glad to see only some bruises and lacerations rather than a tear across his back.
The aide by his side spoke up, “Do you need a minute?”
Red breathed in and out, centring himself, “No. I’m alright,” He unclipped his last pokéball, down to Charmander once more, “Knock ‘em dead, Charmander.”
After the lizard emerged, it took a few seconds for the cameras to focus on the Charmander through the haze of the storm. As whispers erupted from the crowd about Charmander’s unique appearance, the referee called the match to continue.
Pryce tapped his cane, “Add Icy Wind to the hailstorm.”
“Stay at the edge of the storm. Be cautious for any attacks,” Red replied.
Charmander huffed a breath of smoke, shuffling away from the growing hailstorm. Shadowed silhouettes jumped too and fro from within the storm, slowly closing in around the lizard.
Even as the edge of the storm began to batter against Charmander, Red waited. Upon hearing Pryce’s command to use Fury Swipes , Ash commanded, “ Fire Spin around yourself.”
Charmander stepped forward, puffing out spiralling embers of blue flame to surround itself in. A shadowed figure then leaped from the hailstorm, reaching out to swipe Charmander's tail, before crying out from the flames.
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Charmander turned to the Sneasel hissing as it patted away the small flickers of flame sticking to its arms. The cat-like pokémon looked up only to receive an Ember to the face.
The Sneasel screeched as it began to burn, desperately clawing away as Charmander leisurely stepped forward, a small smirk present on the lizard’s face.
The smirk was lost when Pryce called out, “ Facade! ” and the burning Sneasel turned back with a devilish grin before speeding forward, slashing deep into Charmander’s scales before he could react.
Charmander cried out before growling in rage. Rushing forward with Metal Claw , Charmander slashed forward, only to see that the Sneasel dodged, delivering another Facade .
Charmander whirled around, claws emanating with draconic energy as he brought down a devastating Dragon Claw , only to see that he swiped at the wind.
Charmander coughed when Sneasel hit him with another Facade . The hailstorm around him began to disappear. His trainer’s cries for him to get out of there, ignored. The world slowly got consumed by a void as the demon inside of him commanded him to stay standing .
He roared when another Facade struck his backside, hateful wisps of draconic energy beginning to spiral around him, begging to lash out, begging to be freed .
Charmander lost his constraint, focusing upon the rapidly descending form of Sneasel with unadulterated, unfiltered hate . Charmander screamed in rage as a wave of shattered draconic energy erupted from him.
Then, Charmander felt limp, as if all of his energy was sapped away. He swayed, thinking of how nice it would be to lie down and rest. Yet the voice in his ear remained, unwavering.
Stay Standing .
Eventually, the din of cheers reached his ears, as Charmander turned to see Sneasel collapsed, unconscious, with small remnants of draconic energy still clinging onto its fur.
The lizard turned to see his trainer, Ash, looking at him with both pride and concern. Charmander chose to ignore the latter and focused upon the former, a small pit of glee settling in his stomach.
The lizard remained smiling as he was recalled into his pokéball and sent to the Pokémon Center. Red waited for the snowstorm to dissipate before stepping off of the podium to meet Pryce at the centre of the arena.
As he stepped closer, he locked eyes with Pryce, noting that the old man’s eyes were somewhat unfocused, as if he was seeing something else.
When they shook hands, Pryce handed him the Glacier Badge, before placing a hand on Red’s shoulder, “You made mistakes, as did I. Learn from them, and they will be your greatest success,” Pryce then looked past Red, staring at nothing before murmuring, “Remember who you are.”
After that, the old man made his leave. Red stood there for a moment, running Pryce’s ominous message over his mind, before being nudged by the same aide as earlier. Red shook his head as he left the Gym, placing his thoughts on Pryce’s words in the backburner as he prepared for his trip to the Lake of Rage.
…
The Lake of Rage, September 15th, 1997
The morning sun cast a reflection upon the water, lighting up the lake as if it was a giant lantern. The orange sky slowly turned a cloudless blue as Red trekked along the edge of the lake, Pichu and Froakie taking up both of his shoulders.
The two of them had recovered rather quickly from the Gym match, both of them only taking superficial damage. Pichu, as usual, was cranky after being knocked out before he could truly get on a roll. While he hid it better, Froakie was also disgruntled over the match, as he was continuously working on moving faster and faster in his training.
Meanwhile, Charmander had been acting lethargic, not training nearly as hard as he had just a few days ago. Red had observed the small lizard sleeping much more than usual, which was what he was doing now in the pokéball. While he knew that Nurse Joy’s analysis of Charmander stated that the pokémon was in perfect health, Red was beginning to worry.
However, Red intended on giving Charmander a few more days to rest. Nurse Joy had told him that a likely cause for Charmander’s pseudo-hibernation was to recover after learning Dragon Rage , which was apparently the move Charmander used to finish off Sneasel.
Red had asked why that was the case, given that his pokémon had learned new moves without major issues in the past. Nurse Joy explained in basic terms that if the pokémon doesn’t acclimate to using the move before actually performing it in battle, there will often be a period of recovery, depending on how powerful the attack was.
Red wondered about that. Charizard had known the move and never had difficulty with it, so why did Charmander? Was it due to him being in a new form?
Red thought back to Charmander’s new look. The dark red scales made Charmander look darker than others in his species. The lizard was also unusually tall for a Charmander, though he was still only level with Red’s waist. The blue tail flame made Red think of Mega Charizard X, which he remembered changed into a dragon type.
He thought back, recalling the changes he observed in Charizard when he assumed his Source form. That form also gained the dragon type, though instead of replacing the flying type, it became Charizard’s third type.
Did that affect something when the four of them travelled back through time? Or does it have nothing to do with it?
Red rubbed his forehead as his near-chronic headache returned - he needed to have that checked out . He wished that he could ask Professor Oak these questions, but he couldn’t risk exposing his connection to his ten year old self.
His thoughts were interrupted by Pichu and Froakie’s joint poking and prodding. Swatting them away, Red looked forward to see a familiar spot.
Hiking up the hill, Red reached the stone ledge he and Lucario had used to scout out the Team Source base underneath the lake.
Red shivered as he felt the cold memories seep into his mind, the old demons reaching up from the abyss to remind him that they never left.
Red abruptly turned away, nearly knocking off the pokémon on his shoulders. He began to rush down the hill when Froakie crowed into his ear.
Sighing, Red turned around to see the frog pointing out a rectangular slab of stone off to the side. Red stalked up to it, noting the vines spiralling around it, indicating its level of care.
It was obviously manmade, though. Red examined it for a moment before flipping open a pocket knife from his belt, cutting through the vines.
When they fell away, Red stepped back to observe the mural - for that was it was - of stone. At the head was a carved caricature of a Mega Gyarados, though its angular design made the creature seem far more primal and dangerous than any he had faced.
The Battle of Rage Memorial
In the beginning of 1977, marking the fourth and final year of the Great War, the Johto-Sinnoh Coalition was finally pushed back from Kanto after key defeats in Viridian and Pewter. As the armies retreated through the Silver Mountains, Kanto began its own invasion into Johto, conquering major cities such as Violet and Goldenrod. In preparation for a counter-attack, the Sinnoh forces prepared at Gyarados Lake while the Johto forces moved to Mahogany to lure the Kanto armies into the trap. However, during the short skirmish at Mahogany, the Sinnoh forces at Gyarados Lake were ambushed by Orre-Kalos Separatists, resulting in the Sinnoh forces becoming scattered. When the Johto and Kanto forces met once more at Gyarados Lake, it devolved into chaos, as the armies of Kanto, Johto, Sinnoh, Kalos, and Orre fought in a confused battle. This marked the bloodiest battle in the war, lasting over four days from April 4th to the 8th. There have been over 150,000 deaths accounted for across the five regions and over 70,000 missing. Over 70,000 of the confirmed deaths were recovered from the bed of the lake itself, seeming to have drowned in the conflict. Eyewitnesses say that a Mega-evolved Shiny Gyarados was responsible for many of the casualties after raising the entire lake, drowning numerous trainers and pokémon alike. It was this battle that marked the beginnings of disarmament talks between Johto, Sinnoh, and Kanto, as this was not a battle with winners and losers. This was a Battle of Rage. In 1979, the newly formed Indigo League renamed the lake into the Lake of Rage in honour of the fallen warriors of the battle. It is said that if one is blessed, or cursed, they will see the Shiny Gyarados swimming in the now-peaceful lake.
Red’s eyes were narrowed as he finished reading the mural, muttering the words to himself. His words were loud for Pichu to understand, who, unlike Froakie, never bothered to learn how to read. At the mention of the Gyarados possibly appearing at the lake, Pichu cast a quick glance at the water, as if determining whether or not the creature would emerge.
Froakie croaked a quick question, pointing at the mention of the Orre-Kalos Separatists. The confused lilt in Froakie’s voice told Red that, just like himself, he had never heard about the Great War before meeting Herren and Nurse Joy at Silver Town.
Granted, Froakie had somewhat of an excuse, given that the frog had only been a few years old when Red first met him as Ash. Red thought it more likely that he just didn’t pay attention to such things when he was a child.
He remembered skipping out on classes to sneak into Professor Oak’s Ranch. He probably missed a good amount of history.
Still, he would think that he would have learned of it during his travels. Perhaps it was his age that stopped people from talking?
Red shook his head, telling himself that he would think about it later. Procuring a pair of binoculars from his bag, Red peered across the lake to the familiar hillside containing the entrance to the compound below. At least, that was assuming that such a compound existed at this point. The hill itself seemed completely normal, though he could have said the same before he saw it split into two.
Setting down his binoculars, Red whispered to the pokémon on his shoulders, “We should be able to make it to the hill around mid-afternoon. We can check for any hidden entrances there.”
Froakie nodded stoically while Pichu shrugged. Red placed everything back into his bag and resumed his hike to the hillside, storing the information from the mural into the back of his mind, along with everything else.
…
Red grumbled as he crossed ‘Lake of Rage’ off of his list. He had spent the past four hours scouring the hillside, not finding a single shred of evidence to indicate Team Source being present.
He had even dived to the bottom of the lake itself - after haggling for a solid thirty minutes with Froakie - and found no water entrance.
Now, as Red dried himself off next to the campfire Charmander built, he mentally reviewed the itinerary he and Froakie created on the way to Blackthorne City. It had only been about two and a half weeks since he descended Mount Silver, and he had already won two badges. At the rate he was currently going, he should be able to earn one badge every one to two weeks. This would make it so that he would have just enough time to enrol in the Silver Conference at the beginning of December. Of course, this assumed that he didn’t run into trouble and get delayed.
Red knew from experience that he wouldn’t be so lucky.
While the base underneath the Lake of Rage had yet to be built, he remembered members of Team Source talking about how the base at Goldenrod City was home to one of the first major experiments conducted by the organisation.
Red was of two minds when it came to looking into his base. On the one hand, if he were to spend days scouring Goldenrod for a base that had yet to be made, it would be a colossal waste of time when he was already pressed for it. On the other hand, on the off chance that it did exist, then Red would have an opportunity to learn more of the organisation’s movements, which would certainly be a stark improvement from his current position of grasping at straws.
However, this didn’t take into account other difficulties he may face. While the autumn season was relatively mild in terms of weather, the coming winter would prove more hazardous in his travels. Additionally, Red recalled the strong Team Rocket presence there was in Johto. He had even seen some shifty figures in his brief time at Mahogany Town.
It was times like these that Red thanked whatever deity was watching him that the Rocket Trio were off in Kanto harassing his past self. While they were largely harmless, they were certainly annoying.
Though a part of him wondered if he could track them down and help lead them away from crime, given his experiences with them after the Storm.
A splash in the distance caught Red’s attention. He peered across the lake to see the water rippling against the orange light of sunset. He looked down by the campfire to see Pichu murmuring in low tones to Charmander, who was nodding distantly. Froakie was balanced on a rock with one pad, holding a small globe of water between his hands.
As Red was about to call them to an early night - allowing them to return on the trail early in the morning - the ground began to shake, small pebbles dancing along the rock, as a massive whirlpool of orange water began to spiral in the centre of the lake.
Before Red could comprehend this, an ear-splitting roar blasted through the wind, knocking Froakie off of his perch. Branches snapped behind them from the residual shockwaves as a gargantuan figure began to emerge from the lake.
Red scales glistened against the light of sunset, blazed in a spiralling wildfire, as a monstrous Shiny Gyarados rose its head from the depths of the lake. Its red eyes darted back and forth - in perfect clarity - before focusing on a single point directly below Red.
The beast’s irises narrowed into triangular slits before raising its tail from the water, before crashing it back down, sending a wave several magnitudes larger than Clair’s Kingdra had at the stadium.
Red and his pokémon had already started running towards the woods, though he knew they all were nowhere near fast enough to evade the oncoming wave. Red grit his teeth as his headache began to pound on his head, a crimson haze outlining the edge of his vision.
The first droplets of water crashed before larger torrents began to overtake them. Red spluttered as the water reached his waist, hearing rather than seeing his pokémon struggling against the waves.
Heart pumping, head pounding, Red thrust his hands out in a futile effort to stop the waves, his mind and soul screaming out for safety, to save his friends’ lives, to stop the wave .
Something solid seemed to wrap around his arms, as if someone had joined arms with him. Red didn’t ( couldn’t ) pay it any mind, gritting his teeth as sweat began to trickle down his face. The headache impeded any conscious thought as it pounded and pounded and pounded and pounded -
Red gasped as the headache snapped away, the red haze in his vision fading with it. He collapsed onto the dirt, splashing small puddles of water that were beginning to be absorbed into the ground.
Small puddles of water?
Red blinked and grimaced at the pain in his eyes. Stars both literal and metaphorical snapped away as he stared in front of him to see a translucent lavender wall of light. As the wall began to sparkle away, Red belatedly realised that what stood in front of him was a Light Screen .
With a jolt, Red snapped his head behind him, letting out a relieved breath when he saw his pokémon standing beside him on wobbly knees, disoriented yet alert.
Before he could speak with them, though, an agonised shriek was heard in front of them. Instantly, the four of them barreled towards the pained cries and roars from the creature at the base of the lake.
Sliding down the muddy hillside, Red stumbled upon the source of the screams. Lying against the rocky hillside, a bleeding Croconaw gasped in shaky breaths as it struggled against the gashes across its body. The small puddles surrounding it mixed with swirls of blood.
Forcing his eyes off the dying creature, Red turned towards the lake, which was now clear of the monstrous Gyarados. Multiple thoughts began to cycle through his head before another pained cry brought his senses back to the immediate danger.
The Croconaw was bleeding out.
Red kneeled down next to the gasping pokémon, checking its wounds. Froakie hurriedly placed basic medical supplies - gauze, rubbing alcohol, and bandages - next to Red before shaking his head at them, seeing that they wouldn’t help with injuries as large as these.
Red thought the same, meaning that they would have to get Croconaw to a Pokémon Center. However, the nearest Pokémon Center was a three hours’ jog away, and Red wasn’t certain that Croconaw could hold on that long.
Long-buried memories began to rise up. Images of Sceptile’s broken form, bruised and bloodied, lodged itself into his mind. He remembered the same despair they had faced when seeing his injuries, knowing that their heavy-duty medical supplies were kilometres away.
Lucario had been busy fighting off The Chariot’s Tyranitar, preventing him from healing Sceptile. It was this death that led to Lucario teaching Ash moves such as Heal Pulse .
Now, Red turned back towards Froakie, “Place everything back in the bag and get ready to go.” He turned towards Charmander and Pichu, “You two go and retrieve whatever you can from camp, we’re heading to the Pokémon Center in a few minutes.”
Charmander took off without hesitation while Pichu gave a small salute before catching up. As Froakie returned the medical supplies back into the bag, Red placed his palms on Croconaw’s injuries, recalling the log, the feel of his own and Lucario’s aura, the pale pink radiance that spiralled from his heart.
His hands glimmered in the rising moonlight before shining a radiant violet, pulsating healing energies into the pokémon’s wounds. The world around Red seemed to disappear as he placed more and more of his focus in keeping constant hold of his Heal Pulse , stitching the Croconaw up until it was stable.
Red gasped as the healing energies snapped away, wisping into glittering particles before disappearing completely. A moment later, Croconaw gave a heaving gasp as its eyes fluttered open, locking onto Red’s as it gave strangled breaths.
Red grit his teeth, ignoring the ever-present headache that was beginning to return, “Hold on, Croconaw. We’ll get you help.” Red knelt down and grabbed the crocodile, hoisting it over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
Red turned around just as Charmander and Pichu returned from the wreckage of their camp. Thankfully, they hadn’t taken nearly anything outside of his bag before the Gyarados sent the flood, so nothing of value was lost to the lake.
Red recalled Froakie and Charmander to their pokéballs before extending a hand for Pichu to scurry onto the opposite shoulder that Croconaw was on. Pichu scrambled to get a solid grip on Red’s shirt as he began to jog towards the Pokémon Center, periodically checking on Croconaw as the alligator drifted in and out of consciousness.
…
Pokémon Center, September 16th, 1997
Red sighed as he leaned back, blinking crust out of his eyes. The rain outside battered against the windows in a constant stream of noise.
He had been soaked upon reaching the Pokémon Center a few hours ago. A storm had rolled in not even an hour into his trek to the Pokémon Center, drenching him, Pichu, and Croconaw. Thankfully, the rain actually seemed to help Croconaw with its injuries, given its typing.
Now - long since dried thanks to Charmander’s tail flame - Red waited for word on what would happen with Croconaw.
When Nurse Joy admitted the pokémon into her care, she learned that Croconaw was tied to a pokéball, meaning that there was a trainer out there who owned it. She sent a distress signal to the ID-holder for the Croconaw, and they were now waiting for the Croconaw’s trainer to arrive.
Red would like to say that he fully expected this to happen. He really did . However, he had developed a pronounced pessimistic streak over the last few years, given that his only experiences with other trainers had been members of Team Source, or The Chariot himself.
His mind wandered to the possibility of Croconaw’s trainer actually abandoning it. It was a real possibility - Charmander’s presence by his side reminded Red of that fact - but he didn’t quite know what he would do if that was the case.
Ash would take in the Croconaw as his own without any hesitation, damned be the potential consequences. Red would too, if it would only be that simple.
If he was merely going on a regular pokémon journey, then yes, he would take Croconaw into his own care. However, going after Team Source was a very real threat that has proven to be fatal to most.
The likes of Champions had fallen to their wrath. Several of Ash’s friends proved to be nothing more than mere bricks in the wall that The Chariot and his followers tore down in the wake of the Storm.
Red shook his head at the images his mind began to recall. He had dark days ahead of him - he knew that. He lived in a world where The Chariot was alive and well. He had no need to dwell on such without reason.
Thinking back to Croconaw… Red reasoned that it was best to leave the pokémon to the authorities if it came down to it. While it was certainly a melancholic thought, it was better than giving the pokémon a death sentence by forcing it to follow him in his pseudo-suicidal mission.
Giving a calming breath, Red stood up to notify Nurse Joy that he was leaving without the Croconaw. He knew she would take care of the creature if its trainer didn’t return.
Maybe the trainer is dead? The Gyarados could have killed a random passerby in its attack.
Just as this possibility flashed through Red’s mind, the doors to the Pokémon Center slammed open as a young man sped to the counter in the blink of an eye. Red spared the young man - no older than 18, if that - a quick glance, determining that the redhead was the trainer who owned the Croconaw.
Red confirmed as such after reading Nurse Joy’s lips - a skill he had learned from Meowth of all things - given that he picked up keywords such as ‘Croconaw’, ‘injury’, and ‘trainer.’ He contented himself with the knowledge that Croconaw had a caring trainer before stepping out of the Pokémon Center…
Into the rain.
Red was scowling when he walked back into the building. Given how deep in thought he had just been, he had entirely forgotten about the storm raging around the lake. While he had more than enough experience surviving in harsh weather, it didn’t mean that he preferred doing that when lodgings were right here.
Besides, Nurse Joy did offer a discounted price after saving Croconaw. He can afford to lose a little bit of time to rest.
Before he could, though, Red was stopped by the red-haired boy from earlier standing in his way.
Already tired and nearing Pichu’s level of crankiness, Red arched a single eyebrow in question. The boy nervously fiddled with the cuffs of his navy blue jacket before visibly steeling himself as he said, “Thank you.”
Red faltered for a moment, his previous frustration beginning to die down as he remembered that standing in front of him was a kid . While Red was somewhat desensitised to events such as the Gyarados’ attack, he imagined that it must have been very frightening for someone who hasn’t had to live through the Storm.
Grumbling to himself, Red returned, “You’re welcome,” and moved towards Nurse Joy to request a room for the night.
However, the kid sidestepped into Red’s way once more before bravely extending a hand, “My name’s Salvare.”
Red just stared at him for a moment before meeting his hand, eyes still on Salvare’s own, “Red,” He removed the hand, “Is there something you need from me, or can I go?”
Salvare flushed slightly, which was highly pronounced due to his pale skin, before standing straighter, “I wanted to ask if I could travel with you.”
Red blinked, then narrowed his eyes, “Why? We’ve only just met.” Nevermind the many travel partners he had acquired in his life before.
Salvare leaned back slightly, crossing his arms in a confident pose, “First off, I heard that you were the one to save Croconaw, so I thought it’d be a way to pay you back,” He uncrossed his arms, “Secondly, travelling on your own is not the safest, as I can attest to. And given that I haven’t seen any travel partners with you, I imagine you’re like me and have been on your own for a while,” He then leaned back up, adopting a slightly pensive expression, as if debating on whether or not to add the next bit, “And I think I could learn a lot from you. You look like you have… experience,” He finished, somewhat lamely.
Red stared at Salvare as he thought about the kid’s reasoning. The first two parts were standard, though he believed that if Salvare truly wanted to pay him back for saving Croconaw, he could do so with actual money (not that Red would push for it). The practical, and somewhat pessimistic, side of him could appreciate Salvare’s final reason of wanting to improve off of Red’s teachings (whatever that would be).
Still, Red wasn’t exactly the most keen on this. He hummed before replying, “I’m going to be moving very quickly across the region. I’ve only gotten two badges so far, which I’m basically doing in reverse order, and I’m aiming for the Silver Conference.”
“That’s no problem!” Salvare returned, eyes widening slightly, “I’ve already gotten most of my badges. I’m only missing the Gyms in Goldenrod and Olivine.”
Red pursed his lips, sharing a glance with his pokémon. Froakie’s face remained neutral as he scanned Salvare. Charmander huffed a small puff of smoke. Pichu merely shrugged in response.
Turning back to Salvare, Red answered, “We can go to Ecruteak together, and after that Gym I’ll decide if we continue travelling together.”
While Red expected Salvare to jump in excitement - it’s what Ash would have done - Salvare seemed to deflate in relief, “Thank you, Red. You won’t regret this.”
At that, Salvare stepped around Red to sit down on one of the benches. Red spared the kid another look before getting his room, noting how exhausted Salvare seemed to be.
Why was Gyarados there in the first place?
Was it after Red?
Or Salvare?
Red shook his head, placing that line of questioning in the back of his mind along with everything else.
He could always ask the kid about that when they hit the road later today, after the storm had passed. Besides, Red was tired himself. After the stressful time spent at the Lake of Rage, Red was ready to move on and forget.
He had more than enough memories of the lake to die with, anyways.
…
Team Source Base, Underneath the Lake of Rage, April 22nd, 2007
Distant rumbles shook the metal walls as Ash and Greninja stalked through the empty halls. Voices carried from the distance as the occupants of the base blasted away at the entrance, destroying what they thought to be their intruders.
It was times like this that made Ash glad to have taught Greninja how to make Substitutes.
As they sped through the rusted halls lined with glowing pipes, Ash broke into several rooms and laboratories, pocketing whatever he could fit into his bag. From what he could tell, they were largely odds and ends - the type of scrap that Greninja would love to tear into after the day was done - though there were a few gadgets that he excavated.
He had found two more shield generators, which were always useful. There were also a decent amount of Source charges that could be used for the gauntlets he wore, which was a blessing, considering that he was nearing the end of his supply.
However, he had yet to find the globular device that the individual had used on the hillside, which was proving to be a major disappointment. The device seemed to be almost exactly the thing he was looking for in regards to tackling the Storm itself, which he hoped to do, some day.
Still, even if he couldn’t find that device, he could at least achieve another goal of his that had been plaguing him for just as long as the Storm had.
The Chariot.
It was almost poetic, their relationship. Back in the months immediately following the Storm’s arrival, Team Rocket’s Meowth had put it in rather simple terms.
“He’s an unstoppable force, while you’re an unbreakable wall.”
Ash bit the inside of his cheek to distract from the memories of what happened mere days after that. Of the small number of survivors from the first Source Wave, only Ash and a handful of his pokémon had escaped the Chariot’s wrath afterwards.
It was those memories that cemented something in Ash’s mind. Lodging itself tightly in a small corner of the mind, whispering the same truth over and over again until Ash could no longer hear over the ringing din in his ears.
The Storm is more destructive.
The Chariot is more dangerous.
It was a cold comfort to consider that the Source Storm acted in a manner akin to a rabid animal. That made it predictable. That made it manageable.
The Chariot was neither.
Ash almost wondered if the man - if he could be called one - was the result of an experiment aiming to combine ruthlessness, rage, and unwavering cunning in one agonising package.
He wouldn’t even be terribly surprised if that was true. He had seen some of the experiments Team Source were up to before the Storm.
That ultimately contributed more than the cold mist to the small chills that raked up Ash’s spine as he slinked through the empty compound. With anyone else, he would be content in the knowledge that he hadn’t been caught.
With the Chariot, he could never be sure.
It was this reason that Ash paused when he opened the next door. The room in front of him was entirely dark, except for the radiation coming from the pipes, and one, singular spotlight illuminating a table holding an inconspicuous fist-sized metal ball.
If this wasn’t a trap, Ash would eat his pants.
Ash released his remaining pokémon, giving a wordless signal for them to scan the area. He stood still as they did so, trusting their judgement, until they returned a minute later with a negative.
This did nothing to alleviate his concerns though - the noises from the entrance had lowered to a whisper - but he knew there was nothing he could do to back out.
In a whisper, he commanded, “Be ready in five.”
Then, he walked across the room, into the darkness between the door and the spotlight. Five seconds later, he reached the metal ball and pocketed it without further examination.
That would come later.
In a span of time that went faster than his eyes could comprehend, a burst of light heralded the oncoming heat of hellfire from the hall. The door slammed shut as the combined weight of Charizard and Lucario held against the oncoming blast of fire. Just as Ash’s eyes began to adjust, Lucario kicked open the door and Charizard fired a scorching Blast Burn of red fire into the hall.
Another blast of fire met the oncoming fireball, causing a resounding blast that shook the entire compound. Greninja jumped in the space where the door used to belong and erected a wall of water to absorb the shards of burning metal catapulting towards them.
This all happened in the span of three seconds.
Ash clicked his tongue just loudly enough to halt his pokémons’ advance. He knew that the Chariot was just testing the waters .
He was proven correct when a wheezing laugh reached his ears, seeming to be filtered through several layers of metal and tubings that made the jubilant noise sound demonic to the ears. The flames receded as the chuckle was silenced by the constant wheeze-hiss that echoed across the metal halls as The Chariot stood in the hallway, patting his scarred Typhlosion on the side with his metal hand.
Of the many reasons that Ash hesitated to call The Chariot fully human, his appearance was chief among them. The man was an off mix of frail and imposing, the metal exoskeleton he wore interconnecting together as pads of leather hid the worst of the man’s burns. Tubes and wires spiralled around the man’s left arm and neck, connecting to his gauntlet and to the respirator implanted in his neck. The man’s right arm was nothing more than a stump, instead replaced by a mechanical limb cobbled together by screws, gears, and wires.
The wheeze-hiss came from the mechanical lung attached to the man’s chest. From what Ash could tell, The Chariot had received a grievous injury some years before the Storm came, and it was only due to the timely intervention of The Emperor that he lived past that day.
It was likely that act alone that doomed the world.
Grey eyes flashed as he regarded Ash in a stare, amusement dancing in the lights of his eyes, “ Good morning, Ash. I see you’re doing well. ”
Ash nearly hesitated - It was never a good sign when The Chariot acted cordial - replying, “You’re alone.”
The Chariot’s eyes remained unwavering, locked onto Ash’s own, before twitching his mouth into a smirk - He hated how much that unnerved him - “ Watching the pawns flail with dolls can only be so amusing. Besides, we both know they would be nothing but collateral, don’t we? ”
Ash squeezed his fist, biting back the curses he wished to hurl at the man. He recognised that smirk - how could he not? - as it was the same smirk the man gave upon the mounds of bodies he ploughed through to get to Ash.
Nothing but collateral.
“ Before we resume our little game, I feel the need to extend my hand once more, ” The Chariot rasped as he held his left hand forward, “ We don’t need to be enemies. You and I, together… we could reshape the world. ”
It was as if they followed a script. Ash and Chariot would exchange pleasantries, then The Chariot would give his offer of alliance. Ash wasn’t entirely certain when and why this began.
For all of the man’s cruelty, The Chariot followed a code of honour, however warped it was. To those he respected, he offered a hand in friendship, oftentimes stating that ‘they would make the perfect protege.’
When those such as the Champions declined, he kept them in his grace, even in their deaths. While he was ruthless in combat, he always made sure to make their actual demise as quick and painless as possible.
And he always left their remains intact.
Ash himself had buried their remains long ago, in the days after The Chariot offered the same request to him. Yet, unlike the Champions, he lived .
This only enthralled The Chariot even further.
Now, in some sick, twisted way, Ash felt that every encounter with the man was a test . While he remained brutal in his conquest, he seemed to adopt a buoyant air about him, as if he was mentoring a favourite student of his.
The worst part was that Ash did learn.
Flashes of Sceptile’s bloodied form crossed his mind, which had led to his tutoring of healing moves. Memories of Infernape’s insanity wisped by, reminding him of the training he did to link his aura with his remaining pokémon.
Now, Ash had the terrible sensation that The Chariot had devised another one of his tests.
And Ash stepped right into it.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline,” Ash replied, voice carefully modulated to be as calm as possible. With subtle movements, he flexed his fingers in a practised motion, signalling his pokémon to prepare for their Source transformations.
The wheeze-hiss from the hallway paused as an exaggerated sigh emanated from the Chariot. Ash felt the compound tremble as three silent flashes heralded the arrival of the man’s Tyranitar, Umbreon, and one final pokémon hidden by the shadows.
“ A shame, ” Came the voice from the encroaching darkness, enveloping the hall in his own gloom. As the Chariot spoke his next words, Ash twisted the stones on his wristband, “ But not unexpecte- . ”
“eeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ”
…
…
…
Ears ringing. Bleeding . Flashes of flame and ice shatter across the broken metal.
Blinking. Dust . Ash . A dull noise radiated across his ears as waves of heat heat heat heat -
Blasted back. Impact against the wall. Broken bones? Ash gasped a strangled breath, collapsing on the floor as his vision threatened to be consumed by enveloping darkness.
A flash of light. Hope. Love . Sparkling radiance in the corner of his eye. The other was swollen . Clarity began to return as his vision cleared up to reveal streaks of molten steel and shattered pipes lining the ground.
Ash’s ears perked up as Lucario gave a strangled grunt as he pushed deeper into Ash’s injuries, forcing the Heal Pulse to work faster than before.
Was he concussed?
Bile raced up Ash’s throat as he began to vomit, shuddering as the healing energies radiating from Lucario numbed the pain of his body forcibly restructuring itself.
Finally, as if a final piece was added to a puzzle, the last bone clicked back into place, jolting Ash into standing position as Lucario supported him. The haze around Ash’s eyes vanished completely, prompting Ash to wince as explosions of white-hot fire crashed against the blue inferno.
Lucario leaned in front of Ash’s face, revealing his transformed state. Burning red eyes regarded him through sheets of metal, reminiscent of a knight’s helmet. Lucario’s face split into a metallic grin as he patted Ash on the shoulder with ruby gauntlets, the radiating swirls of aura surrounding the jackal jittering in joy.
Ash snapped his attention back to the brawl that shook the foundations of the compound. He covered his eyes as Charizard dashed between the walls, the blue flames engulfing his wings mixing with the white-hot inferno that raged from the Typhlosion’s Source transformation.
Because Ash wasn’t the only one who utilised Source transformations.
Any commands Ash could have given would be lost in the din of combat. Waves of heat, stone, and darkness crashed together, each causing the world to rumble as walking behemoths bore down on eachother.
Whereas Ash’s previous bouts against the Chariot had been largely done in open spaces, allowing them both to utilise highly destructive attacks without abandon, the tight space of the hallway prevented such actions.
It was very claustrophobic.
Lucario remained at Ash’s side, deflecting any debris that threatened to harm him as Ash surveyed the shaking hall. The metal walls shined a dull orange due to the overwhelming heat, causing the outer layer of some portions of the wall to completely melt off. Glass and glowing liquids littered the torn floor, charging with static electricity as a mad spiral of lightning illuminated the entire hallway, dotting the view with afterimages of Pikachu’s form.
Ash covered his ears as a blood-curdling Screech burst his ear drums, its power so overwhelming that he could see even the afterimages of Pikachu falter.
Just as Ash uncovered his ears, Charizard let out a Roar , knocking away the gaseous form of Umbreon before Greninja sped forward, clapping its palms together to unleash a Hydro Cannon as the raging inferno surrounding Typhlosion.
A sharp voice rang out in response, “ Ares, match it and switch with Dionysus! ”
Before the command even finished, Typhlosion gathered the white inferno surrounding it into a beam of concentrated heat , blasting into the Hydro Cannon , covering the entire hallway in a burning mist.
Greninja hastily brought up two Water Shurikens to counteract the sudden attack from Chariot’s Tyranitar, as the towering beast Bulldozed through the frog’s defences, launching him onto the floor next to Ash.
The beast then brought down the devil’s wrath in a Stomping Tantrum , upending the metal panels as shards of stone shot up in a discordant array.
Ash grit his teeth as he jumped away from one of the shards, clapping his palms together in sync with Lucario as they both palmed the ground with Vacuum Wave , dispelling the effects of the attack.
At the same time, the trail of lightning began to spiral around Tyranitar, before several copies of Pikachu slammed against the beast’s side with Iron Tail .
However, the infernal creature refused to cry out, instead roaring in rage as a rippling wave of exhaustion, hatred, loathing, rage, death -
Ash grit his teeth against the headache caused by Tyranitar’s mental attack.
It wasn’t bad enough that The Chariot’s pokémon were physical monsters. They had to be psychological monsters as well?
Sweat dripped down Ash’s brow as he focused on flushing out the dark energy with Calm Mind . He ignored his pounding headache as he directed the calming energies to his other pokémon as Lucario did the same.
However, as Ash was doing so, Tyranitar took a quaking step and opened his maw to fire a rippling Dark Pulse straight at Ash.
Before the beam of dark energy could reach him, though, Lucario leaped in front of him, bursting forth an Aura Sphere with his palms. The resulting blast of glittering aura of both light and darkness would have been beautiful in any other circumstance, if they were not currently fighting for their lives.
Before the brawl could resume, Chariot commanded, “ Dio, fall back! Hades, Shadow Wall!”
Recognising the defensive move, Ash whistled with his fingers, prompting his pokémon to fall back, standing at his side. As the dark mist extended from wall to wall, bubbling in a gaseous barrier, Ash took stock of his pokémons’ injuries.
Despite a number of shallow cuts, Charizard retained a healthy glow to his flame. Greninja bore a number of greater injuries, which Lucario was in the process of healing. Lucario himself appeared only minorly scuffed by the encounter, while Pikachu’s hazy form prevented Ash from getting a thorough view of his injuries. Though, based on the fact that Pikachu was still creating passive afterimages, Ash presumed that he was largely unharmed.
Looking back to the other side of the hallway, Ash could see the wreckage their small battle had wrought. Small puddles of multicoloured liquid littered the shattered battlefield, swirling in a mixture of the substance found in the broken pipes and the leaking water from the lake above.
After a moment passed, the noxious cloud dissipated, revealing The Chariot - no worse for wear - standing beside his pokémon.
Ares, the man’s Typhlosion, stood proud and tall as white hot magma circulated around its body. Despite the number of scars it bore, the old beast still raged with the wild rage of its youth.
Hades, his Umbreon, seemed to exist in a state between solid and gas, colours of black and purple ichor spiralling together in a mad arch. The creature regarded the five of them with disinterested red eyes, as if they were nothing.
Dionysus, the Tyranitar, was a monster amongst monsters. Dashed across its rocky hide were glimmers of black diamonds, which seemed to suck away the natural light, akin to miniature black holes.
Upon seeing the relatively unharmed states of both his and Chariot’s pokémon, Ash couldn’t help but recall something that the man said in one of their first encounters.
“You’re the only one I can call my equal.”
Ash blinked as those same words were repeated in a modulated rasp. He glowered as The Chariot gave an almost-nostalgic smile, lips moving as lowly murmured words reached Ash’s ears.
“ It’s almost funny how normal this seems to the likes of us, ” Chariot waved his mechanical hand as if giving a lecture, “ We are surrounded by devastation, yet we stand tall. ”
The Chariot’s smile turned cold.
“ You’re the only one who ever could. You know that, right? ” The man - devil? - asked in a purr. “ Those such as Mr. Stone, Cynthia… even the venerated Samuel Oak , ” The man paused as a wheeze-hiss filled the air, “ They fell to me. ”
“ Yet you stand before me. ”
The Chariot closed his eyes, and Ash tensed. When the man’s eyes opened, pinpricks of pure darkness remained where grey eyes once were.
“ I’d say this calls for a little bit of Shock and Awe, wouldn’t you agree? ”
Before the Chariot finished speaking, Ash called out to the top of his lungs, “DROP!”
Because, unlike a mere minute ago, he saw it.
A flash of light. Heralding the coming of one of the final gambit. The final deceit.
Flaming wings of burning glory descended down the hall, almost faster than Ash could track.
“eeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ”
The Heatwave generated by the legendary bird was visible as it swept through the hallway, further warping the metal on the walls. However, instead of being knocked back like he had previously, Ash had been prepared, calling out, “Bring it down, Pikachu!”
“ I’m afraid not, ” Chariot spoke amicably, “ Dionysus , Tectonic Shift.”
Ash widened his eyes as the man’s Tyranitar rammed its fists into the ground, its entire body twisting as the walls, floor, world moved .
Ash didn’t need another second to see that the situation was, quite literally, flipped on its head, “Retreat! Beat back the damned bird and MOVE!”
Ash’s throat was soar at the volume he had to yell, but the chaos surrounding him forced his hand. The entire compound, previously damaged by their battle, began to fall over them in a cataclysmic earthquake. Mixtures of rock and rushing waters began to flood the hallways as they blasted their way away.
The Moltress - mutated almost beyond recognition - cawed, sputtered, and raged at them, uncaring for the blood it lost to the falling chunks of burning metal and stone.
Amidst the din of crashing waves and cascading stone, Ash could hear a reverberating laugh that echoed across the flooding compound. Explosions rocketed all around them as both Ash and The Chariot’s pokémon tore into each other in a mad dash to the exit. Ash distantly recalled the pools of blood and corpses he ran through as grunts screamed in terror from their rampage.
Collateral.
Finally, Ash stumbled through a broken door into a large domed room. Glass panels remained the only barrier between them and the waters above.
And they were breaking.
The mutated Moltress blasted through one of the walls, engulfed in hellfire as it fought against Pikachu and Greninja simultaneously. Its eyes will dilated, wild, rabid , as rippling waves of scorched earth crashed around them.
Ash jumped as Tyranitar slammed into the ground, grunting as Lucario engaged it in Close Combat . The beast groaned as Lucario’s final punch cracked its chest, before rearing its arm back and launching it with dark energy in Payback .
As Lucario was launched back, Tyranitar stomped on the ground, bringing up several Stone Edges to protect itself from Typhlosion, who had been tumbling towards it.
The Typhlosion roared in rage as it stepped forward, opening its maw in a white Flamethrower . Charizard snarled as the flames impacted his chest, the power of which was so great that it was capable of burning through his defences, before pushing forward in Outrage , tearing at the Typhlosions chest with draconic slashes.
The entire room shook as a yellow streak blasted across the air, impacting one of the glass panels, shattering it completely. Ash growled as Pikachu cried out in rage as he began speeding back up a red and yellow streak, ignoring the trail of blood he was leaving behind.
Water began to crash down from the broken panels, funnelling into miniature typhoons as Greninja sent several Water Shurikens into an amassing cloud of darkness. Several gaseous duplicates of Umbreon raced out to chip away at the frog, who remained adamant in his own attacks.
Ash snapped his eyes to the source of resounding laughter, seeing The Chariot skipping around the battlefield in joy.
Skipping around the battlefield!
“ Don’t you feel alive! ” The madman called across the rages of war, “ This is what life is all about! ”
Ash couldn’t decide on whether to be incredulous or enraged. Here he was, focusing on the present battle and making sure that all of his friends made it out alright.
While The Chariot skipped around like a schoolgirl with candy.
A shift in the floor alerted Ash to the attack mere moments before it happened. Tyranitar stood over him, armour breaking under constant attack, charging a Hyper Beam point blank at his face.
Before Ash could do so much as cover his eyes, Tyranitar’s face was knocked away just far enough that the white beam skidded past his ear, searing it, before trailing along the wall.
As Ash’s life stopped flashing before his eyes, Lucario renewed his offensive against Tyranitar, moving faster and faster as it absolutely wailed on the beast.
Tyranitar bellowed as Lucario’s palm completely shattered its chestplate, bearing down its maw in a desperate attempt at a Crunch .
Lucario only snarled, snapping its fist against the beast’s chin, snapping it shut, as it launched an Aura Sphere directly into the Tyranitar’s chest cavity, causing it to howl as blackened blood burst within its chest, caving its organs.
As Lucario released a breath, however, a streak of burning red sped towards them, piercing through the jackal’s chest with its beak.
Lucario spit blood from its mouth as it grappled against the mutated Moltres to little avail. Burns raked its skin, melting away portions of the jackal’s armour as it wailed feebly against the legendary bird.
The Moltres cawed in surprise as an Aura Sphere impacted its side, releasing the jackal from its grasp. Ash gasped from the strain of using the move, though he still scrambled to where Lucario staggered into a limping gait.
Before he reached Lucario, however, time seemed to slow down as Tyranitar, in one final act of vengeance before death, grappled onto Lucario with its arms, raising him up as Moltres flew in once more before beating its wings into an overcharged Heatwave .
Ash cried out as Lucario hollered as his armour melted off, burning into his fur, skin, bones … before he was dropped as Tyranitar tapered off of consciousness.
The noise around Ash reduced to a low hum as he dashed to Lucario’s ashen body. Lucario’s chest weakly moved up and down in stuttering motions as Ash placed his hands on the jackal’s chest, ignoring the lingering heat, pouring his heart into a desperate Heal Pulse .
…
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. Ash’s vision faltered as he poured all of his aura into healing.
But it wasn’t enough .
Ash blinked away tears as paws gripped his arm. Lucario stared into his eyes with such intensity that Ash almost thought that he would make it.
Then, the eyes drooped, as the intent red eyes died away into a cold, dead grey.
A broken, burnt body.
Another friend lost.
Another added to The Chariot’s list.
A dull baritone of noise radiated across his head. Flashes of red obscured the edges of his vision as The Chariot’s voice rang out in his mind.
“Nothing but collateral.”
Ash’s head snapped up as the hairs on his arms rose straight, a nigh-solid trail of pale yellow dashing by him, arcing in white electricity.
The air seemed to turn static as Pikachu paused mid-air, afterimages coalescing together as god-like thunder rumbled in the air, before several glass panels above shattered as a bolt of lightning pierced through the lake to strike Moltres mid-flight.
The mutated bird shrieked in agony, falling from the sky as both water and electricity tore away at its flaming wings. Ignoring his numerous injuries, Pikachu sped towards him - afterimages reduced as he reverted back to his base form - before grappling onto the beast, crying out a desperate, “Chuuuuuu!” as he Discharged onto the beast.
Finally, Pikachu slumped forward, heaving for air as his injuries finally took their toll. The mouse gave one final cry of triumph and mourning before fainting atop the still form of the mutated Moltres, frothing at the beak as it twitched in seizure.
Gently closing Lucario’s eyes, Ash limped to Pikachu’s still form, cradling him to his chest. The water from the lake was at ankle level and was rising quickly.
The sound of breaking glass alerted Ash to the wider battle still at play. High above them, Charizard dragged Typhlosion through shards of broken glass in a Seismic Toss , only relenting when the bleeding beast retaliated with Iron Head , slamming Charizard back into the water.
Charizard cried out as the rising waters extinguished many of his flames, lumbering wobbly steps as he stood upright.
Across the flooding room, Typhlosion fell back onto the floor with a resounding crash, roaring in agony from the broken bones it suffered. Ash glimpsed a rare crack in The Chariot’s composure, as the man swore before bolting towards his pokémon.
Above them, more panels shattered as the weight of the lake descended upon them. Ash waded through the thigh-high waters, hearing rather than seeing The Chariot cry out as glass tore through his skin.
Ash tripped on something within the water, nearly falling before Greninja appeared from behind to catch him. Ash’s breath hitched upon seeing the pokémon’s injuries, boils and cuts lined his arms and sides while a deep gash tore across his chest.
Greninja shook his head and pointed to Charizard. Upon seeing that the lizard’s injuries were far more critical, Ash recalled Charizard to his pokéball.
Ash cast one final look at The Chariot as the man began coughing. His metal arm rested on Typhlosion’s prone form as Umbreon snaked around the man’s shoulders. Even from the distance he was at, Ash could see that The Chariot’s mechanical lung was torn apart.
Still, the man kept on laughing through his heaving coughs, casting one final smirk at Ash through the haze of cascading waters.
“We’ll meet again.”
Ash could no longer see the man as they were both submerged by the raging lake. Even then, as he desperately kicked to the surface, he could hear The Chariot give one final promise.
“We’ll meet again.”
“Don’t know where.”
“Don’t know when.”
“But I know… we’ll meet again… some sunny day…”
Even hours later, under the cloudy moonlight, Ash heard the man sing from his watery tomb of rage below.
…
Archived Audio Recording, February 4th, 1995
“There’s nothing left for me.”
Static. Murmured voices out of reach. Shuffling of papers. A sigh.
“You know what I mean.”
A questioning lilt in the other’s tone. Nothing beyond.
“I’m the strongest. I’ve reached the top. No-one can challenge me.”
Slight compression. The speaker leans forward.
“I travel. I do what you need done. But I’m not truly living.”
The other voice moves further away until it’s nothing but a whisper.
“You know, old man, a part of me does.”
A surprised sound.
“I don’t know why you’re so surprised. You’ve known me since I was a boy; you know how I think better than I do.”
A hum. A solemn whisper.
“...”
“You’re right, old man.”
“But she’s dead.”
More words. Incomprehensible. A barked laugh from the speaker.
“That she was.”
“That she was…”
Silence. Only for a moment. A question.
“There’s been some. None were one my level, obviously. One was pretty good, though.
An intrigued sound, mixed with no small amount of scepticism.
“Her name was Cynthia. She’s about eighteen by my count.”
“She was strong, though. Her Garchomp just evolved and nearly took out Ares, with it being four times resistant to him.”
A quick question. Some concern, but not for the speaker.
“No. It was a friendly match.”
“I was in the area, and I’ve heard about her before.”
“I wanted to see if she lived up to the hype.”
A question. Asking if she did.
“...”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter anyways.”
A hum. The other walks around. Another question. The main question.
“Unlikely.”
“From what I’ve seen, she’d likely be interested, but would disagree with our methods.”
A small sigh.
“Yup. A shame too.”
“She would have made the perfect prot é g é .”
“I wish I would have met her years ago, but you win some and lose some.”
Silence. Rustling of papers. A murmured question.
“...”
“I’ll deal with her if she becomes an issue.”
“Let her have her fun for now.”
Silence. Movement. The other comes closer. They ask another question-
ERROR - Recording Corrupted - ERROR - File Data has been Corrupted - ERROR - Potential Tampering with File Data - ERROR