“Well, shit,” The day wasn’t going very well for Freya, as she adjusted the quickly slipping bag back onto her shoulder and resumed her scurrying run. Of all days to be late…she checked her watch, then diverted her gaze back onto the road, before checking it again, and again. The Absol easily loping along before her made no sound, but shot disapproving looks every now and then – each one digging into her like a knife. The teenager glanced at her watch again – last time, she swore! – as her breath caught, between uneven exhales and ragged inhales; tripping, stumbling. She was running as fast as she dared, and yet Time seemed to flit ever onwards, just out of reach – laughing, mocking.
The Porygon2 floating after her, unhurried, unperturbed, made a point to catch the occasional stray paper escaping from the quickly loosening bag. Somewhere within its inorganic brain, it understood the utility of these papers – important research papers. And somewhere further back, it was vaguely aware of the human’s sentimental attachment to the pages. But what the Virtual pokemon understood very well was the current time, and exactly how late they were. And so, with its characteristic strange voice, tinny but soft, it urged Freya to hurry on in a language she knew not. But the message was clear.
Panting, heaving, gritting her teeth through the pulled muscles, Freya arrived gasping at the front desk, where she was met with yet more disapproving looks. Yes, she knew she was late; let’s move on, shall we? She swallowed the bitter justification rising up her throat and smiled as best as she could – the result was watery, but thankfully the recipient didn’t seem too fazed. A quick swipe of her trainer card and she was off.
The field was already rather empty, the competitors evidently having dispersed already for their battles. Freya cursed quietly under her breath, gaze raking across the scene. People were beginning to walk back; were their battles over already? Perfect. Just what she needed. Abyss stuck close by her side, uneasily looking around, crimson eyes pausing on each person as though weighing their worth. Pan reached around with a sound like the striking of metal, collected papers neatly gathered in a sheaf, suspended by psychic strength. “Thank you, Pan, dear,” The female gratefully collected the proffered pages, stuffing them back in her bag and making sure to firmly attach the clasp this time. A low rasp from Abyss brought her attention back to the circumstances – more specifically, to the eight massive boards; no, screens; behind what she assumed was the Island Kahuna and his pokemon. She exchanged a guilty glance with him before hurriedly taking in the information displayed.
Melemele Meadow. Opponent is a guy named Andre. Freya paused for a moment, taking the time to absorb what she could from the simple information displayed. The screen itself didn’t offer much information, but the girl stood motionless, gaze riveted onto her adversary’s face. Sharp, but rugged face. His face was set in a grim scowl, but she knew better than to underestimate the intelligence behind those eyes. He would calculate every bit just as much as she would. After all, he had come as prepared as she did.
Biting her lip, she turned to go, guilt trickling back at how long she had kept him waiting, when she paused. Where was Melemele Meadow? Ugh, she knew she should’ve bought a map, or stopped to ask someone. Fantastic. Well, she’d just have to improvise.
Hurrying out of the makeshift arena, she released Gabriel from the confines of his pokeball. The towering Garchomp shook himself before stretching himself to his full, impressive height. With a mildly disappointed huff, he noted Koda was currently in his pokeball before turning to Freya. “Pan, go up and check where this meadow is. Sorry, Gabe. Need a favour,” She grunted as she hoisted herself up onto the Land Shark’s back. Garchomp were known for flight – speedy flight; exactly what she needed. Abyss looked uncomfortable as the dragon swerved to face him – he had no pokeball to retreat to, and wasn’t as fast as the Dragon type. At the same time, there was much doubt about whether Gabriel would actually carry the Absol or not. Freya broke the moment of heavy silence with a pat on her dragon’s back. “Abyss, come,” She motioned to the ground, before casting a glance to the sky.
Pan was intelligent. Pan was made like that. Pan could utilize electromagnetic waves to hover, even fly. And now, Pan floated high above the company, casting his biomechanical eyes this way and that. There. Meadow. ‘A piece of grassland’. That flat, green expanse was commonly known as a meadow. Duly noted, the Porygon2 began its steady descent downwards, where its trainer waited with some impatience. Gabriel shuffled back and forth, itching for a good flight to stretch his muscles as the virtual pokemon drew closer. In the digital pokemon’s mind sparked something akin to sympathy, and making solid eye contact with the Absol (who quickly grew uncomfortable at the unnatural nature of the staring pokemon) pointed with its bill in a certain direction, followed by a single vocalization.
Abyss paused, blinked, crouched, and then he was gone. Only the fading patter of his quick feet was heard by the time Freya looked around at what Pan was pointing at. Absol’s were known for being fast and nimble, as any mountain pokemon should, but sometimes she swore he had a bit of Rapidash in him somewhere. With the same, flat metallic sound, Pan pointed again, the same direction Abyss had bolted in. “Well, Gabe, you know the way. Don’t go all the way-”
She was cut off as the massive dragon rocketed forward, not unlike the Absol – Freya lurched backwards, almost colliding with the benign Pan before grimly hanging on for dear life. This was much faster, but she could feel a couple of years shearing away from her expectancy each time she rode the pokemon; this was no exception. The dragon, with arms outstretched to create torque, expertly weaved like an aviator of old, eyes glinting with steely determination when he caught sight of a bobbing blur of black and white. Where Abyss glided along the forest floor, lithe and wild, Gabriel soared at scalding speeds, fierce and untamed. And Freya hung on, regret flowing over her in waves as strong as her nausea. Pan was miraculously keeping pace, flitting back and forth around the travelling company, in blurs of pink ethereal energy. Agility. Seemed like all her current pokemon had an affinity to speed – the trainer alone suffered.
Just as suddenly as they had begun, the ride was over and they stopped. Just dead stopped. If it weren’t for the teenager’s death grip on Gabriel, she would’ve cleared flipped over his head, but as it stood, she collided violently against the Land Shark’s back. “Oh Arceus-” She wheezed, sliding off, barely noticing the skin scraping off from her fingers. All three pokemon had come to the sudden, unnatural halt, just at the fringe of the wood they had traversed to reach the meadow, and three curious faces turned to scrutinize the gasping girl on the forest floor. Why was she winded? She didn’t even do the travelling. “Arceus dammit Gabriel!” She cried, blinking back tears as she inspected her skinned fingers. Garchomp and their Arceus-forsaken Rough Skin. With a few deep breaths and a couple of grunts of exertion, she shakily got to her feet, leaning on the steadfast Pan for support. “Ow!” While she was used to accidental sparks from the Virtual pokemon, this one couldn’t have come at a worse time. Already protesting muscles screamed as she jumped away from the emotionless being, rubbing her arm which had been in contact with the floating pokemon.
A few more deep breaths; biting back sheer frustration at everything that had gone wrong, she held out two pokeballs, recalling the dragon and the cybersurfer back to their abodes. She had none to blame but herself, and a head full of frustration would do nothing to help her in the upcoming battle. Abyss wisely said nothing as they strode from the shelter of the forest cover, blinking in the sudden onslaught of bright sunlight. Far into the meadow, she could see a distinct silhouette of a man. Her eyes narrowed. Her opponent. Her small hands clenched into fists, determination and nervousness rising with each step. Sweat was quickly beading on her forehead, only partially from the relentless heat. Her breath quickened, her heart raced. This was it.
The man swung to face her in an almost theatrical gesture, the timing so explicit that she was struck motionless. He had probably turned when he heard her, but it seemed so much like the hero-villain confrontation of movies and games that she stifled a laugh. This was no black and white conflict. This was a struggle for power, position and prestige. Raw, red struggle. Or just a battle. No matter which way one looked at it, really.
“Andre?” Her tremulous voice broke the pregnant pause between them. “Yeah?” He responded, voice gruff, deep. Seemed like her face didn’t immediately strike him as familiar. She had seen his but a minute ago, on the board – how long had he waited here? “I’m sorry for the wait,” She offered helplessly, as his gaze flitted from her to the Absol by her side. Abyss was returning the gaze in kind, his unwavering crimson stare matching the man’s eye for eye until the foe finally broke away. With a noncommittal ‘hm’, he turned and released a pokemon in a single, forceful motion. Now it was truly underway.
When Andre tossed out his first pokemon, and saw none in return, Freya saw him physically hesitate. She could tell; had he made a mistake? Did he misunderstand? His gaze fell back onto the Absol by her side before returning to search her face. Only when he saw her closely scrutinizing the pokemon did he pause in contemplation. Freya, for her part, was studying the opposing Reuniclus, the gelatinous green pokemon quietly mimicking the action. Abyss shifted easily beside her, muscles rippling under his coat, flaunting the fluid predator that he was, as though in an attempt to intimidate the foe.
Psychic type. Multiplying pokemon. Final evolution. Slow Special Attacker.
The teenager could feel the PokeDex rustling in her pocket, vibrating in a call for attention as data scrolled across the adapted device, the stream of information unrelenting and furious. With a half-hearted press of a button, she allowed the piece of metal to pipe up – could it tell her any new information?
Deciding the face-off had lasted long enough, Abyss stepped forward with a roll of his shoulders. He was a confident battler, and there was a hint of arrogance in his demeanor. After all, he was facing off against a foe with a type disadvantage, which was probably the reason Freya let him stay in. The Absol had always been the more impulsive – ah, the quicker decision-maker, as he liked it framed – of the two, and while they had butted heads more than once over opinions, this time they stood together. Would that not make them stronger?
And it began. The Reuniclus hummed with energy as it levitated higher, a pink ethereal glow gathering around it as astral power began gathering within it.
And it turned to face empty space.
Abyss was here, there, everywhere. He relied on his swift agility and powerful attacks to pull him through. Strike first and strike hard. Go low, all skill. With a snarl, his paws hit the ground before he was off again, weaving and turning, hounding the benign Psychic type who desperately whirled to face the incoming blur of teeth and fur. The Absol had slowly drawn closer in his windings, and suddenly lunged close for a strike. At the last possible moment, the Psychic pokemon drew together energy for a shield, and Abyss harmlessly bounced off the psychic barrier.
It had been only the first bout of the exchange of blows, and already the two trainers were caught up in the battle. And yet the difference was starkly visible between the trainers. While Andre shouted out encouraging phrases and helpful commands to his pokemon, caught up in the heat of the moment, Freya laid back, watching with limpid, unperturbed eyes. Detachment from the battle helped her pick things her pokemon might otherwise miss – was that not her job as a trainer?
It almost seemed unfair. Freya never considered herself a particularly skilled trainer (she had admitted as much in a rather immodest tone) but it seemed one-sided from the get-go. Reuniclus was too slow, too ponderous. Abyss flitted in a streak of black and white, lithely maneuvering his way around and sneaking in the odd hit. The Multiplying pokemon did its best to fire off bursts of psychic energy, warding off the Absol with its kinetic powers, but it couldn’t harm him, not noticeably. The Absol didn’t hold still long enough for the opponent to gather itself together and bind him down with psychic reins, and the Disaster Pokemon shattered shield upon shield with his wicked claws.
To the foe’s credit, Abyss had yet to score a hit as well. The jelly-like pokemon had a marvelous defense, pulling up invisible shields out of thin air, sometimes just barely enough, but most times easily deflecting the incoming Dark-type danger. And it was unpredictable. She couldn’t figure out a pattern to its attacks to exploit, a niche to slip in to. Even Abyss had a pattern, a path he followed.
With a swipe of its glorified limb, Reuniclus fired a blast of psychic energy, striking the ground where Abyss had been standing but a moment ago. Where the pokemon had been frantic before, it had begun to calm down, rationalize. That wasn’t good. It was always touch and go with the Absol. Get in quick, and if he failed, get out equally quick. Either way, he went untouched. A war of attrition suited him ill; he simply did not possess the bulk for it. The trainers’ watchful eye roved over the fragile build, the almost feline, delicate being. She knew the strength that bunched underneath the thick pelt, but at the same time, one couldn’t help but feel that the next gust of wind would blow the Absol over to shatter it into a million pieces. A little porcelain doll.
Gliding softly over the ground, with a rippling grace, as though a mere ribbon fluttered along with the wind, Abyss shattered another line of defense, curved scythe down, spilling the safeguard, the shield into a thousand invisible splinters. Sunlight glistened off the Reuniclus’ shiny, moist body, arcing marvelously into a pseudo-rainbow. Abyss’ scythe curved, black as night, and an eerie power ebbed and waved, alive and unyielding. Pure power that could be harnessed, into a physical manifestation.
“Hold fast, Renni. You’ve got him,” Andre called out encouragingly, just as calm as when they had first met; even crossing his arms in an assured motion. ‘Renni’ nodded his understanding, hands glowing in flashes of bright, aggressive pink, surrounded by an unearthly hum of resonance of the elements. A show of power. Abyss looked unimpressed, before crouching low to the floor, toes splayed to display raven curving claws, mouth open to reveal cruelly white fangs. His crimson eyes flashed, meeting the deadpan black orbs of the psychic type, and Freya liked to flatter herself by thinking she saw hesitation on their opponent’s face.
Dark against psychic. Elements raged against each other. Like the dying light, Reuniclus struggled to find a foothold, to hold strong against the Absol’s barrage, and like the certainty of a sunrise, Abyss snarled, nose serrated into regular folds, fur curving along the side of his face like a crescent moon. Rage. The wolf raged for his prey. And yet it was not his to have. His lithe white form flashed, again and again; a reckless abandon, a quick flirt of unsheathed claws.
Once again they were off; this time Abyss made a beeline for Renni. Paws thudding against the ground, fur streaming, the canid drew close for a strike, one strike… his claws elongated, sharpened inexplicably as his attack strength heightened. Ohh, yes, the Reuniclus would feel this one. Except the hit never landed. With a frightened vocalization, not unlike what Pan made, Renni deflected the furious pokemon with a wave of his wrist, and as soon as his paws touched the ground again, the quadruped leaped again. The efforts to desperately scrounge together a sturdy shield were in vain, and like a knife through butter, Abyss’ claws easily crushed the flimsy defense; ever closer, in midair, he outstretched his paws, weapons ready and glistening with malevolent energy, Time seemed to slow, and Freya watched Andre’s face split into a smile.
An orb of strength grew between Renni’s hands, glistening with a steely sheen, which spake of brazen confidence. The aura around the Reuniclus turned from a frightened cerulean to a calm green, and even as Abyss fell closer, closer… he let go. The fierce attack from the psychic type blew the Absol back from the sheer shockwave itself, flinging the lightweight Dark-type far into the field. Renni had let the shield shatter on purpose, releasing the Focus Blast upon the defenseless Absol at point blank range. Falling through the air, Abyss had no place, no way to dodge, and the frail canid was swatted aside like a ragdoll. He did not get back up.
Absol had the defense of a…well, it had pathetic defense. Statistically, Abyss was no different. He lay there, wheezing, blinking in shock and pain, just barely conscious. His pride and his being had both taken a severe beating, and it was clear he couldn’t battle further. Shame. He had lost against a Psychic type. Drawing in a ragged, painful breath, he squeezed his eyes shut, defeated. Freya drew closer, rustling through the thick, long grass, but he couldn’t bear to accept the words of comfort she had come to offer. Painfully, slowly he sat up, pointedly keeping his back to her.
“Your Absol alright?” Andre’s voice rang out, and Freya turned with a watery smile. “Yes, he’s fine, thanks. Your Reuniclus was great!” To the winner go the spoils. The least she could do was graciously accept her loss. They had lost the battle, but not the war. With a new steely glint to her eyes, she retrieved a pokeball from her bag, revealing a Potion in the other. Never taking her gaze off Andre and Renni, she sprayed the dismayed Absol, while releasing her next combatant.
Musume. The puzzling little Malamar burst out from her pokeball, waving her arms excitedly. She had watched the battle of course, and loved a good, healthy tussle. She had easily been the most enthusiastic one about the whole tournament thing, to the extent of bothering about half the team. Her elation had been contagious, and Koda had joined her. So now there was a hyperactive adult and a hyperactive kid. Fun times.
The Malamar had been the subject of intense study, and Freya had made some enlightening discoveries about the dual type’s ability, Contrary. Most unusual. She hoped the fresh new aspect of the queer pokemon could help them gain the upper hand in the battle. Her hopes weren’t in vain, for as soon as she joined the battlefield, she faded into the shadows. The sky became queerly overcast, as shadows loomed out of nowhere. Glowing eyes seemed to surround the Reuniclus, whose aura quailed under the new assault. This time his shield was visible – at least an inch thick, a clear, luminescent wall separated the psychic type from his assailant. Multifaceted, a gem-like barrier formed around the pokemon, seemingly so tangible yet made out of pure energy.
And yet it mattered not to Musume. Renni suddenly turned, hoping the sudden tap on one of his walls had been nothing more than an illusion on his muddled mind, and that was all the opening she needed. Quick as a whip, the Malamar lashed out with one sharp tentacle, scything downwards in a cruel cut of energy. One strike, one win. The psychic type fell to the floor, defeated, as his gathered psychic energy dissipated, with the sound of cracking glass.
Musume for her part was ecstatic, waving her tentacles in the air. Did Freya see that? Did she? She won! Wasn’t she amazing? Freya smiled, nodding knowingly. Much like her species’ namesake, the Overturning pokemon, Musume hid a terrifying visage under the façade of innocence. It seemed they’d caught her at a ‘good’ mood, however. Just as well. She could be quite unpleasant to deal with; but even under her childlike demeanor she was a formidable fighter.
Andre nodded, acknowledging the strength of the new opponent, before releasing his next pokemon. Freya and Musume both blinked, surprised at his choice. “Phan!” Little ‘Pepper’ chortled merrily. “Get ‘em, Pepper,” Andre spurred the Phanpy on, words strong but tone kind. The baby ground type toddled closer, trunk raised in a gesture that was meant to be threatening, but didn’t really succeed, owing to the perpetual smile on the blue elephant’s face. Musume hesitated, stilling in indecision, and it this now that Pepper struck.
Rolling into a ball in a flash, she rocketed past the Malamar before she could register what happened, striking a glancing blow in her passing, and as Musume cried out, reeling from the sudden blow, the Phanpy arced back in a flaming wake of dust and grit, striking her a second time. Bruised on both sides, the Malamar’s face grew bitter, and slips of ethereal substance gathered around her, clustering into an orb of pure darkness. She hurled her weapon at the elephant, but Pepper was long gone.
The strange translucent orb splashed apart on the ground, seemingly liquid in property yet not so. It came closest to a plasmid substance, packing extreme explosive power within it. The potential strength she packed in her only served to annoy the Malamar now, as she whirled about; the tables had turned, and now Musume struggled to keep up to her foe. Knowing she was more than a match for the baby pokemon only seemed to heighten her frustration, and when she was struck yet again by the rolling elephant, she let out a cry, ending it with a pneumatic hiss.
Tentacles outstretched into the air, there was a familiar rush of energy as elemental strength flushed into the clearing, surrounding the combatants like specks of light under lidded eyes. One of the Malamar’s appendages turned dusky with darkness, fluid yet sharp, and the other flashed bright with kinesis, rippling, undulating. A joint attack that Freya often thought of as Musume’s signature strike. The peculiar dualtone nature of the Overturning pokemon’s typing allowed for the curious attack – something that synced well, harmonious and lucid, and yet didn’t quite sit right. An epitome of the clash between the dark and the psychic, reminiscent of the battle fought but minutes ago. Had it really been only a few minutes?
The first slash, a Psycho Cut, served to cause the Phanpy to quickly scurry out of the way; the second hit struck head on while the blue baby was still blinded from being rolled up. Crying in pain and defiance, Pepper unrolled, tears welling as she braced herself for the next onslaught of attacks. Her queer stillness when so far all she had been doing was eluding gave Musume pause, an opportunity the Long Nose pokemon grabbed and barreled closer yet again. The only sign to give her away was a tell-tale streak of energy streaming in her wake, faint, but present. The Malamar whipped out with her tentacles, grabbing hold of the Phanpy midway through her rampage, not only interrupting her roll but evidently her attack as well. Quick as a flash, the Malamar had nicked the captive with a bite laced with malice and flung her away, unforgiving.
“Pepper!” Andre called out, concern creeping into his gruff voice. Rolling into a ball yet again served to conceal the growing weakness in the ground type’s demeanor, but Freya knew what Musume had done. A Toxic bite, and it was only a matter of time. For now, it was more shock than pain or poison that caused the Phanpy to teeter ever so slightly in her path, refusing to unfurl and display the scratches on her side to her trainer. As though coming to terms with her inevitable downfall, Pepper rocketed forward the same time Musume did.
The titan and the leviathan met in a head-on clash. No sparks flew, but the sounds of bodily impact carried through the air. Musume gave it her all in a maniacal attack of Superpower, while Pepper clashed repeatedly in a series of terrestrial tremors. Evidently the many strikes from the Dark/psychic type only further invigorated the pokemon, instead of tiring her out as it typically would – an abnormality stemming from the ability Contrary, yet again. But despite her raised attack and guarded defense, the Phanpy’s Earthquake struck hard, and she reeled backwards. Catching herself only just in time, she looked up to see the opponent whirling and spinning in place, tossing up sand and evidently generating torque before suddenly-
With a burst of ice, she clear flew across the field and struck the Malamar, leaving a frosted over patch where she had collided, causing Musume to instinctively throw out the most natural attack – a Night Slash. Knocking the Phanpy back with a vigor, she carefully watched the small silhouette fall, struggle to stand, buckle as the poison took its toll and finally, with a defeated wheeze, fall.
Freya burst out into a faint cheer, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she’d held as she’d watched the battle unfurl. She prided herself on her logical thinking, but just for those few minutes that the battle lasted, she found herself inexplicably drawn into the moment, moods swaying with the rise and fall of the course of the tussle. But now that the heat had settled, she found it in herself to shake off the tensions and worries of the past battle; time to gather herself and prepare for the next round.
Musume was roughed up, bruised but not beaten. But even so, it might be best to start afresh. With a wave of her hand, she recalled the jubilant Malamar – now in good humor again – before awaiting her opponent’s choice. This time, however, he paused, clearly letting her choose first. This would be troublesome. Picking a pokemon with no knowledge of who she might be standing against…
Plucking a sphere from her belt, she held it out, looking beseechingly from Abyss to her foe. The Absol was still winded, and clearly in no state to fight, but he seemed to be silently grading the fight from afar. So far, Freya had yet to provide a single command, as the battle progressed. Not that she had a close bond with her pokemon or that they had stayed with her for very long – it was simply the result of hours of rigorous training and perfecting training motions. And when she deemed them fit to battle by themselves, she left them, only pointing out what she might pick up as useful. She hadn’t heard Andre call out either, and to be fair, any commands he may have called out wouldn’t carry over to her side of the field over the sounds of battle.
Evidently her opponent was a rather gracious fellow, as determined by when he sighed, picked a pokeball amongst his own medley of six, and held it out for Freya to see. So that’s how it was. Release in three, she mouthed. Her stomach knotted as it all boiled down to the climax. Two, he nodded. Freya pursed her lips, wondering exactly how much the competition meant to her. One. The meadow flashed.
Not many knew this, but Pan stood for Pandemonium. That was their full name. Pandemonium. Of course, Freya had been 10 when she’d got them, and a child’s humor can be strange, but she never got around to changing their name, only shortening it. Even some of the pokemon on her team didn’t know that, and Pan itself seemed to care less.
Opposite the rounded pokemon stood a specimen Freya had only studied in books. Gleaming metal towering towards the sky, moist green weeds draped over itself like medals, a single unnerving eye fixated upon her and Pan, in that order. Dhelmise, an elusive, powerful pokemon.
Unique typing. Dual type. Resistance and immunity. Genderless. Sole capability. Unevolved.
Words whizzed past her head as she unconsciously began breaking the pokemon down to calculated stats. The thing with sole stage evolutions was that instead of peaking and transcending their power in stages, like evolving pokemon, like the steps of a ladder, unevolved pokemon grew in power all their life. It was a steady curve upwards, like with an Absol. By potential alone, the Dhelmise probably outweighed her partially evolved Porygon2.
“Meet Kelpper,” Andre offered, with a hint of smugness in his voice. He possibly didn’t mean any offence out of it, but possessing a rare sea-dwelling pokemon was an achievement nonetheless. For its intimidating foe, Pan didn’t look particularly impressed. With its regular staticy sound, it released a warning hum, indicating it was ready to get down to business. It glowed with a bright yellow power, indicating its ability, Download, had raised its combat power to best utilize its strength and its enemy’s weakness. The Dhelmise responded with its own chink of metal. The female drew in a couple of deep breaths, shuddered, and was okay.
By types, it was a stalemate. Ghost and Normal cancelled each other out. Thankfully Pan was packing something just for this occasion. Besides being a highly effective machine in most every way, it also had remarkable control over several different elements, able to summon their effects through sheer manipulation of energy. Like all Porygon and their evolutionary line, it possessed the most affinity for electricity, so with a burst of said element to speed itself on, it sped towards its opponent, body sparking threateningly.
Except Kelpper wasn’t even there. Pan phased clear through the ghostly spectre of a silhouette, mechanically whirling around as it tried to process the new stimuli. Ghost types were masters of illusion and deception, but to harness their attacks, it took a certain understanding of those elusive stratagems. As Dhelmise explosively appeared out of thin air, one long strand of foliage out to strike Pan, the Porygon2 spun, a shadowy orb floating in front of its ‘bill’. The collision was imminent, and devastating. Pan and Kelpper were blown clear of each other, both seemingly hurt; it was difficult to tell with inorganic beings. They didn’t pant, or falter, or buckle. They stalled, or lagged, or hesitated as they ran calculations like Pan was, but they fought. Efficiently till their last breath. Actually, come to think of, she wasn’t sure Pan even breathed.
Stray sparks fluttered over the Virtual pokemon’s surface, and its tinny voice sounded out. ‘Parp!’ It vocalized to the silent Sea Creeper. There was a moment of quiet contemplation between the two, and Freya found herself waiting in trepidation. But the advantages of being a trainer, a party unrelated in the direct combat, was that she could exploit her relative calmness to impeccably time her commands instead of getting swept along in the whirling madness of the heated battle.
“Recover!” Was her first command, as she saw the Dhelmise move to prepare to charge. Pan hummed as it drew on inner reserves of energy, recovering what stamina it had lost as electricity afresh flowed through it. Once again, it aimed a malignant blast of electricity towards its foe – its usual move, Tri Attack, was useless in the face of this foe – but the Dhelmise deftly dodged, drawing closer with purpose.
Something was off. The pacing of the pokemon, the silence of Andre, the power it gathered in swirls before itself. Grass attacks had proved to be ineffective against the greater bulk of her Pan. Kelpper couldn’t possibly be attacking with ghost attacks?
All too late she recalled the unique move only Dhelmise could use. The pieces fit – its unusual behavior, the revving up for a powerful, well-aimed attack. For an inorganic being, Dhelmise sure was calculating; even as Freya fiercely called out for Pan to dodge, Dhelmise was there, before her, before it, releasing an awful screeching attack of metal against metal. Pan’s eyes went wide, it sparked wildly, and then went still. Ghostly chains slunk over its body, creeping their way in assured, circular motions, binding the Porygon2 to the ground. Unable to move. Unable to escape. Anchor Shot.
The direct contact of a Steel attack had interfered with Pan’s cognitive ability, and the shuddering pink pokemon lay as though dead. Of course, it wasn’t really alive, per se, but its lack of response made for having either lost, or short-circuited. And Dhelmise wasn’t done yet.
Standing over Pan, it whipped out with a swift Power Whip. The impact of the attack made Pan quiver, while it made uneven screeching sounds, whirring furiously as its eyes dimmed and glowed in an effort to resist, but the chains tightened, visibly painful, creaking very audibly even to the trainers, standing far apart. “Kelpper,” Andre called, but the ghost type didn’t seem to hear. Pan’s identity may not be organic, but its body was. It didn’t have bones to break, but destroying its body would nevertheless invariably destroy it. Pan as an individual wouldn’t exist anymore.
So it was with a sickening horror that Freya noticed a single glowing crack appear on the Porygon2’s left side, gently glowing with the inner workings of the Virtual pokemon. Pan had ceased struggling, and continued making sounds of static, and the rapid scrolling (like those of binary numbers in a screen) could be heard as an undertone. Dhelmise paused, the wheel appendage of its turned, the compass eye glinted and it raised its strings of seaweed again.
Freya saw Andre fumble for his pokeball, but the dreaded attack was already descending.
Only, it never landed. A cyclone of air rose around Pan, whipping at the Dhelmise, lancing at its metallic body, forcing it back with a psychic barrier not unlike Renni’s . Pan lay prone for a moment, shining softly, and a sound like a sigh escaped it. A single spark arced down its body, gently travelling, before it unleashed a nova of power.
The cyclone escalated into a tidal force of wind, hurricane-strength. It spread across the meadow with frightening speed, upon the trainers almost as soon as it had started. But the winds quelled and flowed around Freya, around Abyss, around Andre. As though it knew what it was searching for, and sought to see and destroy them alone.
Dhelmise was knocked airborne, further and further back. The steel chains binding Pan to the ground began to crack, shake by the force of the attack.
They gave more.
It blasted the Dhelmise out of the sky. It spread further, washing across the meadow, whipping blades of grass sky-high. Pan almost glowed with power. Beneath the incredible cyclone winds, behind it all, there was a faint crack. Like a thin sheet of ice cracking. Freya begged them to stop.
Pan gave more.
Psychic energy sparked to life within the winds. The cracking grew more insistent, and the meadow, already in the peak of the day, glowed like a thousand suns with Pan’s power. It surged through the air, battering at the Dhelmise, who stubbornly rooted themselves into the ground, although it was being buffeted like a ship at sea. The chains splintered, fragmented.
Pandemonium gave more.
Sunbursts of psychic power bombarded the foe, lifting it despite its anchor, and slamming it far into the field. The chains binding it shattered into shining fragments, as pulse upon pulse of power emanated from the rounded body, floating far above the ground. With all the force of the core of a dying star, energy emanated from Pandemonium. Like a pulsar, Pandemonium shone for one long, bright moment.
And just like a pulsar, it faded and died with a quiet crackle. When the winds settled, Dhelmise had been flung far from the battlefield, unmoving. Just like Pan. The Porygon2 had fallen to the ground, like an empty husk. Most jarringly, a large crack was visible in his body, strange blurry streams of yellow energy visibly coursing within. Freya choked back a strangled sound, running haphazardly towards the prone pokemon. Andre was stunned into silence, slowly walking over to Kelpper, who he recalled after a few quiet words.
Picking up the sparking pokemon in her arms, she turned, frantic, afraid. Andre nodded grimly, moving to allow her past. She had technically won; she still had her Malamar. Freya nodded back, a watery smile, grateful for his understanding. And she ran. She ran for a life. Not hers, but theirs. The sky was a sympathetic, almost muted blue with melancholy grey clouds scudding across it. The wind drove them slowly but surely. Abyss loped along by her side, steps painful, but certain, keeping pace. Freya swallowed the sobs threatening to break through, cursing herself for the lapse in attention. For acting otherwise. For having known the opponent better. For letting down her friend. A thousand regrets ran through her head, keeping pace with her gasping form as she ran clear of the meadow, the woods, the arena. She ran until they were safe, in the Pokemon Centre. And as she sat there, waiting in dead silence, glossy black eyes staring straight ahead as she rocked back and forth, she supposed she could cry for them.
(Welp, this is longer than it needed to be. Tl;dr, she won. Might not use Porygon2 in the final battle. And I had no idea how to end it. Zero. Nada. I also may have rushed it ^^' apologies...)
